V-Zoisite-One had been here before. Hunting, fetching fruit, creeping quietly through underbrush. It had always been fleeting trips, never taking much time to enjoy the sights and sounds; Eridanus was too far from home even back when they lived in the tunnel.
But since moving to Draco, and since spending a reasonable amount of time in Pegasus, returning to the warmth, lush rainforest was almost nostalgic. It was too far for them to venture without reason at this point, and so it had been cycles since their talons had sunk into the loamy soil. Head craned back, golden eyes took in the view, enjoying the humidity and the quiet buzzing of insects and rustling leaves. The Zoisite dug around in bushes as they travelled, finding themself some berries and-- eventually-- a mango tree, where they reached up and snatched a mango to swallow whole down their gullet.
...
It was better than trying to hunt down a rat or something, anyway. Mandibles now sticky with juice, they continued to wander the paths in Eridanus. Stopping by a small river, the insectoid kaiju rehydrated, letting the stream wash the stickiness from their carapace. They didn't know how long it would take to search the whole forest, but they wanted to be somewhat presentable if they could help it. Quills shivered, rattling softly as they steeled themself.
Finding another creature like themself was a daunting task. What if they made the wrong impression? They did not interact with almost anyone outside of their immediate family, and... even in their family, they were not the best conversationalist. Still, they did not come this far to turn back, and so, slightly damp, the Zoisite continued onward. Whether they were ready or not, they wouldn't know without trying.
The deeper into Eridanus they got, the more certain they would not simply run into the being they were looking for. Uncertain-- maybe, perhaps, even impatient-- the slow creeping, six legged creature parted their mandibles and began to click.
"Venari?" They called, "Venari-- are you here? Hello? Venari?"
Perhaps they would not find her, but if they ran into anyone who could point them in the right direction... It would be a start.
"Venari! Are you out there?"
... Did they just pass that fallen tree? Hopefully they weren't going in circles...
"Venari? Venari!"
She was stirred from rest by a distant voice, one she was almost tempted to ignore. But what if they were here to ask for a contract-? She was being called for by name, after all.
With a grumble she uncurled, a multitude of legs clicking softly on the stone beneath her. Out she skittered, past the pretty baubled stones and--carefully--over the carpet of flowers that lay just outside. Two deeply-set, glowing eyes examined the forest before her, and after a moment, an eyelid parted to reveal the third at her forehead's center. It sparked like flame as she studied her visitor from afar, through the forest's cover. Ahh. Light, she gauged, and not one that she was familiar with. Not a target, though technically she had no real targets at all, right now.
Hmph.
She scuttled down, large body carried easily by her multitude of chitinous limbs. "I'm h-" she started, then startled: damn, this thing looked a little like her! Not a lot, but a little; long and many-legged, similar in color, if thicker and a little more, well, neon.
"...Huh," she said aloud, looking Zoisite up and down. Shrug. "You were looking for me." She stated it as fact, then waited, third eyelid slipping shut again.
@V-Zoisite-One
The Zoisite froze as the sound of clicking--
This was Venari, the Zoisite believed it without even blinking an eye, before she even spoke and confirmed it. The jagged stone flanking the right side of her face glistened beautifully in the leaf-dappled light, and what brief quill-rattling existed quickly stilled once more with awe.
The Zoisite had to squint, trying to see over their own mandibles without raising their head, but it was difficult to see Venari like that. It felt less like gawking than straining their head back, more... polite, and dignified, somehow.
Then, one more thing. Why the Zoisite was here, bothering her:
Naturally, she approved of the carapace and its ridges, of the pincered feet and the powerful jaws. The quills were an interesting addition, and she idly wondered if they were any use--venom, maybe, something like that. More useful than crushing up plants for it, anyway.
As Zoisite spoke, Venari realized abruptly that the portion she'd thought to be the head... wasn't; instead, the smaller appendage was the one from which a voice emanated. Now that's useful, she thought, with some smug satisfaction--not her own satisfaction, but just an appreciation for the stranger's design, and designers, whoever they had been.
Friend; there was that word, again. Ah, and Oliver. She wasn't surprised, really. "You're... friends, with Oliver?" she asked, and she wasn't sure if it was faint jealousy or lingering confusion at the term that passed through her. She shrugged it off, and considered. "You can come in, then," she said--and without specifying where 'in' was, she turned and skittered back up through the underbrush. "This way, and don't step on the flowers," she warned, careful to creep back over them without a single pointed leg crushing a bud. "I don't know if I'm 'nice.' I have a job, and I do it, but Oliver seems to think I'm nice," she reflected, carefully making her way into the den. It was well-decorated, with shards of diamond chrysalis, many of which were strung baubled along the walls for a glimmering fairy light effect. Shelves lay high up, and the ground itself was well-worn where Venari obviously lay.
The two of them together would be a little more of a tight fit, and Venari turned to eye Zoisite almost suspiciously. "What's your name?" she asked, wondering if this was someone sent to remove her, to take her place. The design was similar, though not as fast, not as efficient, she imagined. And then, bluntly (though this was more down to a lack of conversational skills than anything else) she asked "And why did you want to meet me?" There was nothing rude in her words, but they were certainly to the point. "Oliver is safe, yes?" If someone had harmed him, well, she'd have to kill them for it.
She was curious, though. Curious as to who this was, why they were here--and how Oliver had befriended them. And why. Maybe they like flowers, too, Venari thought, wryly.
Somehow, she very much doubted it.
@V-Zoisite-One
The Zoisite stood still but for a slight nod of their head at the question. Were they friends? Zoisite... Thought that Oliver would agree, but if not... Then...
But Venari did not put much more thought into it, instead ushering them "in", somewhere. Zoisite's head snapped up to watch as the large, longer insectoid skittered away. There was a pause, and then a lurch into motion, hasty in their attempt to follow. They froze when Venari mentioned the flowers, craning their neck and twisting their head to try and stare down and up at the same time (not an easy feat) and took ginger care to avoid the flowers suddenly sprouting up everywhere through the path Venari lead.
... There were so many. Zoisite almost paused to examine one, but was urged onward by the sound of Venari's voice. Listening intently, the six-legged kaiju cautiously crept after them to the den. Distracted by trying not to stumble over their own talons, they didn't notice the brightness that filled the space above them until they crossed the threshold into the den.
There, they paused. There was a warmth to the light here, and as they twisted their head back they saw the immense care taken to embellishing every corner of the space. They reeled back, their lower spine arching as they raised up their forelimbs and twisted to look about, golden eyes wide as they stared at the shards and glimmering lights that reflected upon each other.
It was...
It was so beautiful.
She lived in a bountiful forest, in a place of light and warmth, surrounded by flowers. How could one place be so perfect, so wonderful? She wished she could show Chaos-Two... But, despite their thoughts, they listened intently and did not miss a single word Venari offered. Their quills lay flat, their mandibles slacked open as they made no sound but for their own breathing.
What was their-- name?
"I..." The words died in their throat for a moment. "I don't have a name." And oh, in the face of beautiful names-- Mary, Oliver, even Venari-- how it made them quiet. "My designation is V-Zoisite-One>"
But, luckily for Venari, Zoisite was used to tactless, direct conversation. In fact, it was practically the only language the two-headed creature spoke. "Oliver thought we could be related," they said, and then their quills shuttered. What if something had happened to Oliver? "... he is, as far as I know." They had not expected the worry that prickled through them at the idea that Oliver could be unsafe, but hopefully that was not the case.
There was one other thing that Zoisite wanted to say in that moment, and the smaller chitinous being's pincers clicked as they formulated the words in their head. "... I... Like your home," and that was what it was, wasn't it? A home?
"... It..." With a bit of concentration and effort, the Zoisite brought a faint, glowing orb of golden light into existence, hovering above their head. The light poured over the dark fuchsias of their carapace, gleaming over the individual plates and brought out the warm hues. "... is warm."
She was absently studying their design again, and wondering what their purpose was, and watching them gaze around them and get acclimated, too. She wasn't sure yet that inviting them in had been a good idea--but if they turned out to be hostile, better to fight on her own turf. She was pretty sure her mandibles would make short work of even Zoisite's carapace, though.
But the stranger didn't attack. Not yet, at least. If anything they seemed oddly gentle, almost like Oliver had been. "Designation?" Oh. Some distant knowledge in the back of her mind offered up a simple explanation: Zoisite wasn't as important as Venari was. They were rank and file, one of many, not a unique creature with a distinct, important task. Hmm. Were they even meant to be here, then? "Related? Who designed you?" she asked, bluntly. She was about to ask what the Zoisite's stone was when she realized--Oh. Zoisite. "We don't share a stone." A wiggle of her diamond mandible, waved in the air, seemed to try and call attention to what was definitely not a Zoisite gemstone. "I'm Astraea's creation. I was made to be a hunter. What were you made for?"
The idea of blood relations was mostly foreign to her; at first she assumed Zoisite meant that their creations had somehow been linked, in what was probably both purpose and design. Oliver had spoken of a Dad and a Mom, but these concepts were still alien ones, for the most part.
Zoisite had complimented her den, however, and she looked around. Mandibles clicked. "Thank you," she said, and she meant it. "I like it, too."
@V-Zoisite-One
V-Zoisite-One wasn't surprised that Venari questioned the designation thing. It was... something that the Forge did, but others in the nest were free to have names. Zoisite tried not to give it too much thought as it made their chest ache with a quiet longing that they didn't dare look too closely at.
But the question of who designed Zoisite struck a bit deeper than expected. They did not think they were designed, but Orthoclase-Alpha had created them (as much as it denied being their mother)... but had it been Master Vargas's instructions that led to their creation?
Regardless, they tried to answer earnestly. "Overseer Orthoclase-Alpha... created me," they said, "Our Master is Master Vargas." Venari pointed out her stone, and that seemed to confirm it: that they had no relation. Some small part of them didn't want to let go of the chance, but Astraea was another Master all together. They and her? Mere coincidence. It stung.
Outwardly, there was little to show for the train of thought that continued to chug through the smaller insectoid gembound. Their mandibles clicked quietly, they shifted weight on their talons, their quills rattled here and there. For the most part, they continued to twist their head about to look anywhere but at Venari, not wanting to rudely stare.
But the Zoisite's words fell even shorter under the question of what the Zoisite was made for. They... They didn't know what they were made for. The thought that they were supposed to be made for something, given designation and purpose, was left out in the darkness with the notion that they were someone forged but not found use for. Did they have a place in the Forge, truly? What was that place? Did the Zoisite even have the barest idea of their purpose?
It wasn't Master Vargas's fault. They had options, opportunity. To protect, survive, and guard the nest-- but--... "I don't know." The Zoisite paused. "... Master Astraea decided you would hunt?" They sought clarification, "What do you hunt?" Maybe, with their designs being... Not too far off, Zoisite could find purpose and meaning in their form, and figure out what they were missing. After all, everything they had seen so far had led them to believe that Venari was nice, and liked the same pretty things that they did, so her... purpose... might hold promise, too.
The gratitude was something that seemed foreign to Zoisite, but taken graciously, and quietly they lowered their head once more and tried to stand still to listen.