Maximus had a power that no one in the Chaos Forge had. A power that nurtured and strengthened in ways not even Vargas' most advanced training could ever hope for. Love. They loved Khavur and it began to leak through the bond with every word until it flowed freely.
They clenched their jaw and tucked Khavur as best they could into their nest, into the place they could half-heartedly call safe. They tucked themselves into Khavur's body and took one of their hands to hold tightly, regret flashing like a light between them.
Maximus shouldn't think this way. Vargas had given them life, given them mercy, and then given them a gift that had fixed the flaws that had very nearly ended their life before it had begun. They owed Vargas much.
Words came crashing down, razing beams. They knew not what was decimated. The beast was trying to guzzle down the despair caused by this display of compassion, even as it poured in from the walls and the ceiling, if only to protect its sibling from more that was not needed. Khavur just didn't understand. How could they feel all of this for it still? Fear for it? Take blame for it? But Khavur had no energy left to be angry, or even annoyed. It was still choking on charred ground. Maximus felt all Khavur felt, yes... that's what made it worse. Khavur never wanted to doubt or regret their bond,
However, as the energy was dissipating, Khavur's ears began to open. The words were still making their intended mark, even if it was partially diluted by venomous and vile thoughts. This was the good, a part of their link Khavur cherished dearly. Khavur did not understand, yes, but their link offered it a chance to. And the same went for Maximus to Khavur. It was... dangerous, all things considered. Dangerous to bind such aliens minds together, to build a bridge for their alien emotions to freely pass over. The danger had just been showcased here. Yet, for all the danger it imposed, there was also something spectacular about having such unalike minds connect and share. Something empowering to them both. Maximus could now understand, or had the chance to, better than anyone. Better than Khavur's own creator! And wasn't that worth the risks... and more?
Khavur went along with every motion Maximus desired, showing no sign of hesitation or rebellion. It made the eyes of its small-horned head turn into something of a... smile, like how a cat would smile with its eyes alone. Maximus needed cheer, and Khavur had to produce it. Their bridge was not made to be walled off. Khavur felt it all with Maximus -- the light of regret, the fear, and love. The desire to leave -- oh, Khavur shared that, most certainly. And then Khavur felt the forgiveness. Not like it forgave itself, or that it felt forgiven, but through the link it felt Maximus forgiving it. That was relieving in part, but also added to Khavur's conflict about its own feelings on what it had just done. The red was fading, nearly all gone, and it would return, and tempt, and that did not deserve forgiveness, and did Khavur even truly feed bad about it--? And cheer, despite this, despite what Khavur had just started... was the only possibility of turning this smoke back into breathable air. To grow anew.
Staring at those eyes, swathed in the lights of touch and each flickering emotion, Khavur, in time, returned a message of its own.
Although, that had not addressed Maximus's final, most important words. Khavur almost didn't want to, but that was unfair. Steadying itself, marginally tightening the grip of its hand holding Maximus's, Khavur would respond:
@V-Chaos-Two
Maximus let Khavur feel. Let them doubt and worry, gently holding their hair through it all. It didn't matter what Khavur felt, what they thought. Maximus would be there through it all, to feel everything and to help the other work through the emotions they struggled with.
The little lamb looked up and saw Khavur. Saw beautiful colors, beautiful eyes, beautiful faces. Two heads depicting the emotions of one being, both conduits of their beloved sibling's energy. Their eyes didn't pick a point in space and stare any longer, but instead saw into them, peering into the other's soul like they could indeed pick out its shape.
Maximus looked up at Khavur, their soft, doe eyes blinking slowly,
They finally leaned up to nuzzle Khavur's cheek before flopping down again, yawning widely due to their exhaustion. It made them heavy, making their eyelids turn to lead and their brain to mush.
They set their head down and flicked their small, fluffy tail, a smile on their face,
A warm breath left their nose, sleep tinging the edges of their mind. They yawned again, squeaking cutely like they did as a small calf, so small and barely even able to walk, with wide eyes and a curiosity that spurred them onwards through life.
exit chaos-two to sleep?
Snuggled together, with no hope or even shred of a desire to escape, Khavur would feel and be felt, see and be seen. Maximus could perceive and pick through every layer. Khavur could not stop them, not now. Its energy was draining away, its consciousness slowly flickering out.
But of course, it still had enough energy to be perceived. It felt the beauty that Maximus saw, and almost had to audibly gasp for air. The imperfections of everything in the vicinity, in the shape of every curve and jagged edge, were becoming less vibrant, less visible, but still present within Khavur's mind. Like creatures of the night, they would be there when Khavur was not, watching as they slept, waiting and judging, and when the dawn broke they would strike--
And yet, Maximus's beauty prevailed. Maximus had invented the very concept, which incubated within the belly of the beast, the Reaver, alongside the hatred and spite that this community nurtured. It was a first taste, the only hint so far, to Khavur's true nature, to the Reaver's actual identity. It could maintain and train in these polarizing emotions, somehow working to withstand their opposing forces, tearing it apart from the inside out. A monster or a mortal might have held one side or the other, but did anyone... did anyone else besides the spawn of Vargas feel these sorts of impulses? Did the life-given spawn of Vargas...? Again, Khavur had no clue. Identity is not born in a vacuum; it is found, created even, among the masses of others.
Maximus spoke through their link, huddled closer. Khavur felt like melting at every touch and word. Maximus spoke with such care and wisdom, Khavur could only marvel at how they spun emotions into parables. Neither of them knew the words for the feelings in their hearts, but with imagery and their link, the limitation was dwindled down to nothing. What Maximus taught was the polar opposite of Vargas. Not sparks, but tinder - they ignited and swayed each other, but not due to any threat. The concept of this was both alleviating and crushing. Khavur had just taught the labradorite and the zoisite about sparks, about finding the thing that aided in a crisis... but Maximus's mentality existed outside of such squalls. And Maximus wasn't wrong. The worst part was, only a little more than half of Khavur actually regretted the lesson it gave. The other part fought viciously for its own righteousness, and Khavur could not pull defeat from its own jaws. Not in this state, and potentially never at all.
The description of these pseudo-metaphorical fires, their motions, tying them into other aspects of the world, was sensible and soothing. Suddenly, being perceived by these gentle, loving eyes was not a sentence to some judgement and purgatory. More than anything, it made Khavur understand, and feel understood. Then came the last words: "I have faith in you." With that aisling, and that sentiment, the reddened, brutal imperfections began to fade away at last.
A nuzzle to the cheek and Khavur was ready to purr and settle. They were going to go together, to Canis, to find mangoes. All was understood, they would discover more as they went. Everything was in motion, just as it needed to be, and they could rest. Hopefully they could all rest. Khavur, the Reaver, holder of butterflies, the guiding star... Every name added somehow made the beast feel more at home with words and sounds. With each missing piece found, its identity was born and reborn. The Reaver of the Dark Above, the guiding star within that darkness. They would learn more as they went. They would learn more.
As Maximus lay down to rest at last, Khavur lay down one head beside them and the other would watch, just for a moment, the rising and falling of the little lamb's body. This is not a spawn of Vargas. Not a thought -- more visceral, guttural. An instinct. This was a spawn of everything Vargas did not know. How could they possibly be related?
Today was a bewildering day, to say the least. Tonight, Khavur might be plagued by thoughts and dreams of futures it did not want to know. And tomorrow, they might be gone.
The gears have shifted. The wheels are turning, the people in motion. May those that leave never return as those who left. Through ashes spring the first buds: creation.
- exit via snuggle ;u; -
@Doctor @Garnet-Delta (exit tiiiime!)
The feline had never been particularly involved with the Doctor, but considering their brief exchanges and-- well, that time that Delta had left Doctor with an enemy with a broken wing and the broad had come around to Delta by the end of it with almost zero effort on Delta's behalf, there was a lot of respect there. Almost enough respect to spark curiosity on the magic that the Doctor was using to heal. Disinfection? It almost asked, but its attention was divided.
Mentally, through magic, it was stalking after the Labradorite's thoughts, watching them flee to Pegasus. Physically, its attention was divided on listening Khavur and Chaos-Two (ear swiveling to catch glimpses of conversation, purrs and rumbles, almost all of it seemingly spoken through body language, perhaps?) and paying mind to the Doctor, who was much more polite and less nosey if only due to fear of harm on his mind.
"I'm keeping an eye on them via my magic," Garnet-Delta replied smoothly, "worse case, the Zoisite will end up in a chrysalis, but I'll know where it is." It was all about being calm. "I wouldn't worry," it went on, "you did what you could, Doctor. The rest is up to them."
Garnet-Delta raised its head, turning to meet the Doctor's eyes (or, eye) with full attention, now ignoring the two snuggling a ways off. It only made the cat's fur prickle slightly, easy enough to smooth over. "I won't keep you any longer." That said, the Overseer made its way back to its perch, once more signalling a sense of 'everything is fine and under control'. At least, as much control as chaos could be under.
The little Overseer had much to think about.

@Doctor ; delta exit unless stopped?
The good Doctor listened: polite, intent. Every word that Garnet spoke he absorbed, careful, his single dark eye fixed on the winged feline.
His worries were assuaged; he was granted the necessary, almost official reassurance and mild praise, and then Garnet had places to be. He dipped his head, accepting this with pleasant grace--it all seemed proper to him.
"Of course," he answered, as it made to go; "I will remain in Draco, for now, in case you need me."
He waited a polite few moments after it had gone before taking wing himself, massive wingspan and lumbering weight--for a bird, at least--thudding heavily into the air. He made for the rear of Draco--for the Climb, the bones and stones and ridged cliffs that he could roost on and feel oddly at home.
If he was needed, he'd be there; and he wouldn't pry, but he was curious.
exit Doctor