Vigilance - Printable Version

The Warden leaned back, a throaty chuckle making its way out of its jaws. It glanced at Mirac, remembering what Ace had been boasting about before their fight. "Yeah it is, that's the one the Drone was screaming about having fought I think." It didn't say much more, not daring to cut off or interrupt Master Vargas while he was talking, otherwise listening attentively. Personally, it didn't find the thought of doing patrols in a dusty bone covered cave particularly interesting, so it would let others volunteer for that one. If they needed backup, though, it would ride fast to join them.

Once there was an opening in the speaking for the Warden to pipe up, it did so, stepping forward. "This is Shrike - she has pledged herself to chaos after I triumphed in combat against a Drone that dared to get a little too close to Draco." He glanced at Shrike, to see if she had anything else to add.

"Patrol? Patrol!?" Mirac spat. He.... did not know what a patrol was. But, judging by Azrael's words, it was not as fun as a direct assault. Mirac had, admittedly, not been too involved in anything Chaos forge, most days spent in simulation or languishing the fact he was not being used as a weapon against another gembound.

"Mirac AGREES with the LARGE angry RED ONE. If this 'patrol' leads to fights with ORDER, Mirac is happy. But Mirac thinks chaos should only be fighting ORDER. Fighting order is FUN and Vargas says this patrol thing is... "easy'. Mirac does not WANT easy. Mirac wants HARD KILLDEATH ONLY! However....Mirac will go on patrol if Mirac gets to fight ORDER there."

In the back of Mirac's mind, was the slight, yet persistent fear of losing to Order. The visions he'd seen of Order destroying Chaos, leaving worlds static. If the caves were all Order, there would be no one to fight. That would never happen to them, right? Perhaps he could talk Order into only having battles, so no one side won, and they could fight forever. Mirac grumbled to himself. He did not like having a fear. They made things more complex, and complexity was bad. Mirac clapped his jaws, as if he could bite the bad thoughts away.

"AH! Mirac has not INTRODUCED himself!" Mirac's stone hummed feverishly as he pushed it, but it responded readily to his magic. He forced the air to split around him, the pressure around him lessening, causing his already loud voice to become roaring. He split his jaws and began to scream. "Mirac is MIRAC! The one TRUE blade! The BLACK BLADE! Sword of CHAOS! Maker of BLOODSPILLING AND KILLENING!" There was a pause. "Ah...Mirac has run OUT of names. Mirac would like MORE names, if suggestions are had."

"speak" think

V-Corundum-One trotted in at the middle of Vargas's speech, panting a little. She was late--she knew that, oops--but she caught the important stuff, at least. Probably.

When Zoey introduced herself, Corundum found herself quickly rethinking what Vargas had meant. She'd thought he'd meant only the new guys, but it made sense for the rest of them to make themselves known in turn. She'd come up alongside Mirac (she loved that guy) and sat there to catch her breath.

When Azrael spoke of going in and just murdering the Hive, Corundum had to grin and nod her agreement. She didn't get all the beating around the bush that was going on. They had the numbers, surely? Eh. She didn't feel as strongly about it, either, but she'd have loved a good fight just then. Or any time, really. And-

'Mirac AGREES with the LARGE angry RED ONE...'

Corundum flinched. Fuck, he was loud. She edged away a few feet, flattening back her sensitive batlike ears, and grinned (half a grimace, half amused) at him as she waited for him to finish. Once he had, she looked around. "V-Corundum-One. Just lemme know if any of the new folks want help with anything! Or a spar!" she offered, good-naturedly.

Then she side-eyed Mirac, thought for a moment, and leaned in. "What about the Blade of Badassery?" she asked him, in a murmur. Or well--he'd done "Blade" already. A couple of times, in fact. Sword, too. She thought really hard. "The Weapon of World Destruction-? No--MIRAC, the MIRACLE DESTROYER?" -She slammed her jaws shut and glanced around, sheepish--she'd gotten a little loud at the end, there.

...Awkward.

Nidhogg hardly heard anything Vargas had said, so distracted was he by the argument between his children. They were arguing over whose father Nidhogg was, and when V-Agate-One swore at him, he drew back, blinking.

Somehow, he felt like he was in trouble.

He hesitated. "I'm both?!" he said, worriedly. Was that not allowed?! Nidhogg glanced over at Vargas, who was talking, and then he lowered his voice. "I'm both! -Both your dads! -The dad of you both!" His phrasing was all kinds of fucked up, but he was really worried, now. Why were they upset!? "You're siblings! Um. We can go together..? Don't kill each other. But-"

He paused, thinking. He was proud of both of them, he realized, but he couldn't really figure out why. Maybe because they were both assholes? Or aggressive, at least? He could appreciate that.

Of course, he had no idea how to properly articulate this. "You're both doing good!" he tried.

Was that parenting? He'd never been very good at it.

Oh, but he still had to volunteer himself. "I'LL GO," he yelled up at Vargas, his voice half a hiss, far too loudly.

Archon was a little nervous with this many people here. This many, and so many who could bite his head off in a heartbeat. He was holding the handles of his scythes too tightly where they hung at his belt, and he found himself scanning them.

There were so many new faces.

As always, he retreated to "haughty" in the face of his nervousness, tipping his chin up and eyeing Vargas as he called out. "I will go." He had a few rewards yet to earn, and he was rather pathetically eager to prove his own worth. But...

It said something that compared to almost everyone here, Archon was weak. Small. Pale. Soft-skinned.

Compare that to the monstrous form of Zoey, with her pincers, or Labradorite with its intimidating black bulk, or the Warden's whole... thing.

Archon had never played team sports. He'd never stood in a gym, waiting to see (in absolute fear) if he'd be chosen last for one team or another. If he had, he'd have recognized this feeling now: the sweat between palms and hilts, the fear that no one would speak up and say "you can come with us."

He was really feeling like he'd just have to pick a group and tag along--but what if no one accepted him? Well--most of them couldn't fly, so there was that?

"If any land-bound group wishes, I can join as a scout, and keep an eye from the air. They can... relax, unless I find something?" There. He was offering to do all the work, if only they'd have him along.

Shrike was like a kid in a candy shop.

Or more accurately, a kind of twisted child in a monster factory.

She gazed around in awe, any nervousness she felt at being suddenly a part of such a large gathering almost eclipsed by her excitement. Monsters! Everywhere! In all colors, shapes, and sizes. It was beautiful. It was glorious. And she was pretty sure she was the most beautiful of them, if nothing else.

She gave a nod to The Warden as she was introduced, and for a moment she was at a loss--she felt she should add something, but she didn't know what to say. Shrike cleared her throat, and came up with it a beat later: "I'll join the patrols, if you'll have me."

There. An overachiever? Maybe, but she felt she owed that to The Warden, at the very least. After she'd spoken, she looked back at Vargas, staring at him--and then to Mirac, when his volume became too much to ignore.

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas looked over those present. He'd offered Scion a respectful nod as the other spoke, as if to acknowledge its achievements; then he'd waited for volunteers.

Now he got right back into it, wincing at how damn loud Mirac was, and hoping the sword did not interrupt him. "For those of you new to the Forge: obey those of higher rank, do not harm one another outside of a spar, and perform your duties. Do this and you will be rewarded! Warden, ensure Shrike-?-knows our rules and duties; Nidhogg, inform your children. V-Agate-One--that is you--I would speak to you when we are finished here. The rest of you may go--to Canis if you are volunteering. I will check in periodically. If you run into trouble, retrieve me. Remember! Minimum of threes. I will not lose any of you to insects."

That was everything--or well, almost everything.

"You make a good point, Azrael: let me think on that. Once we are certain Canis is purged, I will move toward that goal. But ensuring they have nowhere to retreat is not a waste of time; each infested cave weakens our position. Our power." Still, he was right. It was just a matter of proper preparation, this time. "And Mirac, I cannot guarantee a fight. But if you do not find one, I agree to spar with you myself upon your return, if that is sufficient."

Vargas's head lifted, and he peered off into the distance. "There is an Oilstone waking back there. A new being of Chaos. Somebody retrieve it," he said. Chaos-Thirteen had not gone unnoticed. But if no one did retrieve it, he'd go over there himself. "The rest of you are dismissed."