ORIGIN

Vargas shook his head, relatively good-naturedly, at the apology. "Take your time," he said, when Chaos-Two briefly stuttered. He wasn't sure why it was upset, unless it had neglected its training and felt guilt at this. But as it reported, he assumed this wasn't the case.

Strange.

If he had known that it assumed he was beating others for failure he'd have perhaps been shocked; or maybe Vedette had been lying to it. His mind instead turned over what had been said: that Garnet-Delta had taught Chaos-Two to stalk, to hide, to form weapons. "That is a decent start," Vargas stated, tilting his head a little. "Ask it to teach you--or come to me if it hasn't got the time--about learning your targets, for longer hunts. And the importance of survival. Of calculation. When one delivers a venomous bite, one that might be deadly, do they follow up and risk being injured or killed, or captured; or do they retreat and risk the prey's escape adn survival, and so forth. Risk management, though it will only factor in a little to the younger ones," he added.

A six-thumbed hand gestured at Chaos-Two. "In any case, yes, I can attempt to remake you. It may hurt, briefly, and then you would be asleep for some time--half a cycle, generally--and then you would hatch again. It is not a pleasant process but there were errors in your creation, and I would correct them, if you wish it."

There it was, then; the offer. Whether Chaos-Two chose to accept it or not was its own decision, but it was laid now on the table.

Vargas studied Chaos-Two for a brief moment.

Truth be told, he hadn't really... considered the specific mechanics of this. It would undoubtedly be violent, which was... unfortunate. "Are you ready now, or is there anything you wished to take care of in advance?" he asked. In case it had, you know, goodbyes to say--or unfinished business to quickly wrap up.

"When you are ready I will do my best to knock you unconscious. Cleanly. It may not be pleasant, but it will be quick," he added.

It would probably be bloody. But Chaos-Two didn't need to be awake for that bit. A shame he hadn't the magic to just return it to its chrysalis. That would certainly make fighting easier, too--but so far as Vargas knew, he didn't hold that power.

A strange question to ask. He wondered if it would want an "apprentice" of its own, as Garnet-Delta had; and he wondered if this was something these Gembound craved: relationships? Closeness?

Bah. It didn't matter much to him.

"They should not bear your malformations, I would think. I cannot be certain, but I never intended them to begin with. And if they did, I could always atempt to reform them, though again I make no promises. These powers are new to me," he explained, with a tone that suggested he were admitting some fault. "I do not know their extents, and there was not a... manual handed down to lay it all out. But I will do what I can." None of this was said kindly, or gently--nor was it harsh; his tone was matter-of-fact, not intended to comfort but to inform. But Vargas was thinking, as he spoke. "As for creating spawn; I would say that once you have completed your training in the basics of combat and stealth, and raised at least a single spawn to a satisfactory adulthood, you could perhaps choose a reward then. And another, down the line, when you have truly proven yourself a long-standing contributor, yes? With many young raised. That reward might be the right to reproduce, or a name. Which you choose is entirely up to you."

He paused, then, as if waiting for any further conversation, before speaking once more. "I will inform them of your absence and what it entails. Now prepare yourself. This will not take long."

Vargas paced around behind Chaos-Two, eyeing its head, its neck, wondering how best to do this. "Are you ready?" he asked, again; it would sleep for weeks, after this, so best to be sure it had nothing else to say.

"There is not," Vargas agreed, and after a moment's thought made the concession: "I wish I had not failed the first time." It was likely not enough of an apology for "hey sorry I made you live in chronic pain," but it was... something.

He was pleased enough with the way it faced its fate: matter-of-fact, bravely enough. Proud? Maybe; he didn't examine it all that closely. He was too busy shifting his attention to the back of V-Chaos-Two's neck, looking for a good spot to hit that wouldn't outright kill it, but would surely knock it unconscious.

He paused just behind it, and studied for a moment longer, but didn't prolong it unecessarily; no point in tormenting his spawn by drawing it all out. Instead he struck out quickly-

-and missed.

A clawed hand shot by Chaos-Two's head, and Vargas nearly lost his balance, with a grunt and a stumble. The blow he landed was glancing, barely a hit at all, but probably enough to unbalance Chaos-Two also; he went staggering past so as not to land on his spawn, catching himself on one hand before shoving back.

"...That was a practice swing," he insisted, pulling his hand back to grip the wrist in his other thumbs. He'd strained it a little, it seemed...

Vargas grimaced, a sort of peeling back a fraction of rigid lips above hooked teeth. "I missed," he said, bluntly; if it wanted the truth...

Chaos-Two was clutching its head, and he felt a slightly wrench of guilt, at that. He hadn't meant to do that, damn it. Ah, and an answer--"No." He paused, and moved back behind Two again; "Just-" -hold still, again...
If he were lucky, it'd be the last thing Chaos-Two heard for awhile. No use leaving it writhing around in pain. The strike was at least accurate, this time--a blow for the back of its head. He then paused only briefly before moving forward to check--to ensure--that it had fallen fully unconscious.