ORIGIN

Vargas waited, and watched.

These most certainly were not the basics of survival, no. Chaos-Two had swapped lessons early on, it seemed, but again he made a mental note that this wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Adapting to the particular pupil was good, though he did note too that "basics of survival" had apparently been wholly abandoned.

Still.

He said nothing, simply observing, and his metrics of "pass" or "fail" were held close to his chest and unrevealed. Not even hinted at. What he wanted from this--what he expected of Chaos-Two--he said nothing of it. But he watched, closely.

The idea that Draconua had "taken Nidhogg under her wing" was amusing, though, and he had to suppress a snort. She was offering the serpent a little training--but only by Vargas's orders. And the little shit had turned on her more than once. He still didn't know where Chaos-Two had gotten these ideas of love and bonding, but the chaos that was Draconua held none of it. Even the idea of her gently sitting near Nidhogg--what, telling it bedtime stories?--was something to only dream about, and laugh at.

Her 'attack' was clearly an intentional threat, and Vargas remained silent, acidic eyes flicking to Chaos-Two to watch its reaction. She was not out of control--far from it--that much he could gauge; but to another, outside observer, it would almost certainly seem that way.

Vargas listened, content with all that he was hearing. Draconua was playing her part admirably, though he had no way of knowing how much was genuine threat. Chaos-Two was trying to keep its head, and making good points in its argument.

He wondered if it'd actually manage to talk her down. If it would manage to prove the usefulness of tact over true Chaos. He wondered, too, if he ought to nudge the lesson a little, so it didn't completely end in disaster. To that end he raised his voice, tone mild, as he sat on his haunches. "Chaos-Two makes a good point, Draconua," he offered, but it was not authoritative--merely a sort of suggestion.

What she did with it was her own choice--and what Chaos-Two did with its scenario was its own choice. And wasn't everything a test..?

Well, this certainly was. It said it on the label, really. Vargas waited, patient but attentive, to see what would happen next.

Vargas was listening intently to--and watching intently--the exchange when Chaos-Two simply... quit. Quit. Few things truly surprised the Leviathan, but this did--and he felt immense disappointment drop through his gut. Of all the creations, Chaos-Two had seemed one of the most level-headed, the most patient. It certainly wasn't distrust, or was it? Vargas had never done anything truly unfair in regards to Chaos-Two itself. He had always given it the extra consideration, remaking it and finding work that would suit it, giving it time aside for training... So it could not (could it?) be that the creature imagined this task to be a trick of some kind. Vargas considered himself a good judge of character, and this was the last thing he'd expected it to do. It had never given up through Nidhogg's idiocy, or Vedette's fury. He'd truly thought it would push through.

The refusal drained cold through his enthusiasm.

He'd held out so much hope for this one. He'd really, truly believed that it would triumph, and it was with grinding regret that he at last began to speak (virtually ignoring Draconua, though an ironic glance was cast her way). He had to raise his voice to be heard over her bellowing, and the first thing he did was call out to her. "That's enough, Draconua. If you wish a fight I will give you one but for now I need to speak to Chaos-Two." Because it had been planned, of course. He hadn't given her terribly explicit instructions; merely to challenge Chaos-Two, and not to truly harm it. But she'd done her task, and apparently Chaos-Two's true colors had been revealed. Vargas could only hope that it was some sort of misguided pride, and not something darker, more insidious, that had twisted Chaos-Two's willingness away.

"V-Chaos-Two, you have decided to fail and so you have. In the task we chose for you--training our creations, our spawn, up from children if needs be--you would need certain traits. Patience. Insight. Perseverence. You have long shown those traits, but it seems they have failed you tonight! Our creations are chaos, as Draconua is. Some will be easier to handle. Some far worse." He paused, studying Chaos-Two with the same disappointment roiling in him. There was no violent retribution; he wasn't angry. It would be a hassle working around this failure, true. But the Oilstone was not rebelling... simply quitting. This was not a personal insult. "I wanted to see if you would push through, if you could. And you were very nearly there." He looked to Draconua, embroiled in her own backfired magic--exactly as Chaos-Two had said she would. "If you had pushed on just a little longer, perhaps she would have listened! You would have made your point. But you gave up."

He looked back to Chaos-Two, drawing himself up, standing. "You gave up, and that is not a trait I am looking for, and not one suited to the task of molding those we teach. You may depart, and I want you to reconsider your chosen task. If you want to stick with it; then you will be given another test--a different test--two cycles from now. If you choose another? As a guard, a recruiter, an assassin? You have been remade, after all. Come to me and discuss it. But for now, go." Vargas glanced to Draconua again.

For now, he had her to deal with. Chaos-Two's choice to fail--to give in, give up--so close to the cusp of victory..? He'd worry about that further another day.

But damned if he was not disappointed.