ORIGIN

Orthoclase-Alpha had been his Overseer for several cycles, now, and not once had he actually trained it in what Overseeing entailed. It was time to rectify that, now that they were in Draco; they had work to be doing and he needed his Overseer to know what to actually do.

How to "Oversee."

Part of that would involve understanding the process ahead--and Vargas wondered, vaguely, if Alpha would be up to the task of deciding which creations were weak, which ought to be culled. And Chaos-Two-? Surely that one should have been destroyed, by now; what am I waiting for? A grim thought; he had to wait, to find out if it had any sort of potential.

He should have destroyed it at hatching, really. But he hadn't. Not because he was weak, of course, but-... Just in case.

Anyway-! On to Orthoclase-Alpha. He'd teach it what they were doing, and therefore what to Oversee. What to look for. What to correct.

And in training the others, what to look for, there; how to gauge another's strengths and weaknesses. He only hoped it had a handle on itself, by now; chaos was good when needed, but a fucking liability otherwise.

Vargas grunted, staring into one of the empty alcoves--his would not end up forgotten bones and dust-slicked crystal, no. His would succeed; his would survive.

"OVERSEER," he called, at last; "To me."

Vargas turned to regard his Overseer. He was launching right into all of this--no point in falling behind again; not this time. No. He'd rested, briefly--a day or so, he thought, but who was to tell?--after his brief but ferocious battle with Draconua. And now it was time to begin.

"Have you chosen a name yet?" he asked it, bluntly. He waited for an answer, and then went on.

"Tell me what you think of this place. First impressions, without... filtering your words. Tactically, emotionally, whatever." Vargas paused, stretched; winced faintly at the pain still lingering along one singed leg. Singed, now that his magic had gradually worked new flesh from beneath that which had been blackened. "And then tell me what you know of my work. Of what we will be doing here--myself, Totum, all of us. We will begin with that," he explained.

His demeanor was businesslike--there was no demand in it and little challenge. It was, perhaps, an odd introduction to even a Vargas conversation, but he had reason for framing it as he was.

"Easy to defend," Vargas agreed, by way of beginning his response--and with a gesture toward the Aperture, added "and easy to become trapped in, in case of something drastic. We will need to set up some form of defense. Spikes or the like, I don't know what yet." But Draconua alone had been warning enough--warning, perhaps, from Lord Dhracia herself. Or simply the lesson Vargas had taken from it: Do not become complacent.

Chaos did not rest.

"It is not the old tunnel. It is better, in my eyes, in terms of being larger--more power to work with. More space to work in. More prey, close by. I trust they are finding Pegasus to be... refreshing?" he added. Beings of chaos wished to rend and destroy but these half-breed, half-Gembound beings of Orthoclase's lineage seemed more peaceable than those in the Leviathan's time. Draconua, again, came to mind.

"You're correct, you'll be training them. More than that, overseeing their training. You will look at who has which strengths, which weaknesses. I've judged V-Chaos-Two--it has little other use--to possibly be worthwhile for raising the very young. Guarding them, but also teaching them the very basics of all categories of learning that we might tackle: scouting, infiltrating, magic, mending, combat. From there, you will assess them periodically. And then decide who will mentor each of them, train them further. So now I have two questions for you, Overseer."

Vargas dropped to his haunches, studying Orthoclase-Alpha intently.

"First of all, I want you to tell me what you imagine to be the strengths and weaknesses you might expect in a good fighter, and then again, in a good scout or assassin, or spy. And second."

Whatever question was about to come, Vargas gave no indication: no emotion, no tilt of the head, no blink. There was no sign that this question was to be any more serious, or any less, than anything else. That it might be a test, or whether he already held an opinion, himself.

"What do you think ought to be done with complete failures? Creatures like V-Chaos-Two, crippled or damaged, and unable to perform?"

It was carefully-phrased, and Vargas watched his Overseer closely, like a predator for prey--but it was any twitch of the creature he was looking for, any sign of its emotions in its response. What wasn't clear was why. What he expected was not even hinted at. Whether it was an idle question, or one upon which might hinge the fate of a dozen children, was entirely unclear.

Vargas hadn't been correcting Orthoclase, just adding to its thoughts, but apparently its self-damning nature hadn't recognized that. He listened intently, in fact, to everything it said: noting down what it knew, what it didn't, what its opinions were. The only time he interrupted was to interject into the "spies" bit, a quiet "Social skills," when Orthoclase stumbled over "be able to speak..." and beyond that, he just took his mental notes.

"I am not asking what were were going to do with them; I am asking what you think we should do with them. You and I both may form creations that do not compete properly," he explained, and boy, if Alpha had thought Vargas brutal prior, it might certainly find his cold question now to be so.

He went on, though, sitting back with a deep inhale, a thoughtful pause, a long exhale. He gestured, then, at Orthoclase-Alpha.

"Overall you have covered most of what I would say, though only brushed over weaknesses. Recognizing strengths is good; their absence is certainly weakness. Frailty in a fighter is merely missing strength; blundering idiocy in a spy is the lack of social aptitude and intelligence. That is enough," he mused. "Go over the ones we have now. Your spawn, and mine. Tell me what you think them suited for, and what you would do to train them. As an example," he went on, intending to perhaps provide some sort of framework for this conversation, "for Garnet-Delta, I deemed it quite suitable--as it requested--as a scout and assassin. Therefore my first task was to give it to Hemlocke--its... overseer, so to speak, in that regard; and then, when it returned, to find out what it already knew. It knew of stealth, of caution, of a touch of magic but not enough. I found out where it might be discovered--by those with magic--and taught it how to hide itself: by imitating Lessers, by studying their movements. And how to avoid that weakness: by learning magics to watch from afar. I have now set it to gather information and return, and it will prove itself in doing so. So, give me a run-down on what you would do with your three spawn, and mine, were I not here--if you were Overseeing them, without my presence at all. For what do you deem each suitable? How would you plan their training?"

He had, perhaps, waited too long before starting their training, himself--but that was soon to be rectified, with--he hoped--Overseer Alpha's aid.

Orthoclase-Alpha's answer was indeed brutal, and Vargas' head tilted a fraction. He waited, however, until it was entirely done speaking, and then he tilted his head back a little to take it all in. To go over again everything it had said, while it was all still fresh in his mind.

Some vague part of him did, of course, pay full attention to all the individual notes about the spawn--but just as much, perhaps moreso, Vargas was gauging Orthoclase-Alpha's own attentiveness. What it might have missed. Where it was comprehensive, or accurate, or insightful. "All in all, your answers are promising," he began, speaking his mind bluntly; "and now I will explain that all of this is your responsibility, as Overseer. You now have the authority to make these judgments--come to me if you are unsure--and to command the training that you deem necessary. I agree with most of your assessments. I was unaware of Labradorite's ability to breathe underwater," he added, in a tone that suggested he was impressed--whether by Alpha's knowledge, Labradorite's ability or both, he didn't say. "So: start them on all of this. Be careful to use your time well, to plan it so you are not overwhelmed by one child or another. Delegate, as you suggest; Garnet-Delta might teach Selenite, as you say, and thus reinforce its own learning while freeing you for other things. Take them hunting in Pegasus, I think. Play games with them: one predator, the others prey--or one the hunted--and allow them to practice. See how they perform. Do this with the young among them, too. Finding someone to train Labradorite in the water may be difficult," he added, thoughtfully, "but see if Doctor or the--the white bird--can teach Khavur to fly." There--individuals covered, more advice doled out.

"It is your responsibility--and mine--to ensure that these creatures are up to the Creator's standards, if and when the time comes. Now I will tell you something else." Vargas sat back, eyeing Orthoclase-Alpha intently. "Magic is useful for our work. It is useless to the Creator, and to Lord Dhracia, except in specific creations that we may offer her. Those that fission--the results cannot use magic. They will have no stones to do so. They must be pure ferocity: physical force, pure and simple. Reavers and predators, all of them. So seek monsters, Orthoclase-Alpha: seek creatures that can kill you or I. Improve on what we have so far, always."

Vargas paused, staring again at the Overseer, and now at last addressed the elephant that he'd left in the room. "As for culling, putting them down, that is an answer I did not expect." There was no tone; whether Vargas was truthful here or not was entirely unclear. "I have no wish to destroy the new before we can attempt to find purpose for them, and then not to destroy them later on. That was the old way and it was the best way for forging only the strong. But do I desire that?" Vargas let the silence stretch, for a beat, staring at Overseer Alpha. There was honesty now, blunt frankness in his words. "I do not. Lord Dhracia insists that I must remember why we cull the weak," he went on, and here he leaned in closely, because who knew who might be listening in: "But if any of them mean anything to you, you must never show it. It might be used as leverage for your obedience." He leaned back, carrying on as if he hadn't said this, tone returning to a normal level. "If you do not wish to destroy new creations, then we must do our best to ensure never to make them to begin with. And if we do, to find them some useful purpose. We will see what we will build," he added.

Would Totum be joining them in Creation? Perhaps. Perhaps Vargas would not have the stranglehold on Origin's operations that he was hoping for. Perhaps Totum would Oversee him, in turn: he would see. But he had no intention of giving it reason to doubt him, or his.

"Now: on to motivation, and punishment. As an Overseer, you will need a way to reward good behavior and to punish rebellion. Your thoughts on this-?" he asked.