[Chaos Forge] INCENTIVE - Printable Version

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Draconua's assurance: 'There is no greater honor,' was a surprising, pleasing relief. It worked, he thought, a weight he hadn't known was there suddenly lifting. That was one less problem, then, to deal with--well, he hoped, at least. Surely there was no way that could backfire--and this thought, though amused, was dry.

Chaos-Two came to him--which was good--but spoke volumes of tumbling words, which was bad. Just before they'd finished, Vargas interrupted: "I did not invite your input," he said, and his voice was boomingly loud--enough for the entire Forge to easily hear--but deadly calm. "No, you did not tell me about it. Yes, that is your mistake. You have the option of language: use it. Next time, you tell them what you intend to do! You warn them! I have just laid out these rules, and I do not intend to immediately begin to bend them for you-" ...but here, Vargas fell silent.

Kethri was speaking. Here was her response, and Vargas turned to listen. Not a single apology, he noted; no assurances. Only... blackmail? Draconua's outburst, too, drew his head in a sharp swing, and he snorted faint amusement. Before he could respond, Aethril was speaking; and Vargas was not about to interrupt a Valkhand. 'While I very much appreciate your valiant defense of my honour, Chaos-Two, you were given an explicit boundary by your Master.' Vargas nodded faintly, glancing to Chaos-Two. "It is not your place to act as an Overseer when you have not earned that right, Chaos-Two. You come to an Overseer or myself with your complaints: the rules are not only for when you FEEL like obeying them." His tone, again, was both loud and firm: this would (as promised) be an example for them all.

And Overseer Cain: 'I offer her purpose be made to deal with unpleasantness. Murder. Assassination...' I do not need assassins, Vargas thought irritably; I need messengers.
But it was not to be.

And as Aethril began to speak, his heart sank--not for Kethri, no, but for the Forge. 'Master Vargas and Overseer Cain are good people. They are fair. While they have the Nest's interests at heart, they also have your interests at heart...' Oh, yes, he knew what was coming. An example. He wasn't sure, of course--not until the magic ripped the little white owl inside-out, tearing it into a ragged mess of silent, twitching flesh. Master Vargas stifled his sinking disappointment. But he didn't look at the pile of feathered meat, no.

Because it wasn't Kethri's death that bothered him. 'Master Vargas is protecting you from me.'

He had failed, then. He had not been strict enough--not harsh enough--and Aethril felt it her duty to be the looming monster in his stead, the whip to his carrot. Fuck, thought the Master--a rare swear that sank quietly into his subconscious. Toxic gaze cut at last to Kethri's dead body.

If I had been harsher, this would not have happened. It wouldn't have needed to, he thought.

He looked to Chaos-Two.

This mistake would not be repeated. "NOT to doubt our own Hand," he began--loudly--which probably wasn't the best way to start, with contradicting her, but he had a point to make, "but I am not 'good' and I am certainly not here to coddle you all. These rules are to protect the Forge as a whole, our work--and you from one another. They are FAIR rules, and I will not be BENDING them UNFAIRLY! You can expect consistency from here on out."

And with that he turned sharply--a violent motion, one arm shooting out to snag V-Chaos-Two's leg; to jerk the creature off its feet and bite down with his jaws. It was a bite that, if it connected, would do approximately the same damage as Chaos-Two had done to Kethri--more a warning than real damage, but enough to draw some blood.

And then he would release it--setting Chaos-Two down, and looking out over the Forge to see the impact his (and Aethril's) words, and actions, had both had.

Chaos-Two had just gotten Kethri killed. As he watched her dig her own grave it was like cotton had filled their ears. They had no spear to clutch to hide their trembling hands or to turn their head and hide their saucer-like eyes behind, meaning all their terror was on display as they watched Kethri be mutilated.

"PERHAPS THERE LIES SOMETHING RESEMBLING A SPINE AFTER ALL!"

They didn't want a spine. They didn't want this, they didn't want to be the one who'd essentially sent a person, no matter how hopelessly cruel, to her death.

Chaos-Two was snatched up and they only managed to let out startled bleat before it was over, the pain nothing compared to the worst they'd ever felt. A paper cut in comparison. But it wasn't the bite that hurt them, it was the fact that Vargas did, and it was like something they'd been desperately clinging to had slipped from their hands.

They fell onto their side and hissed, quickly standing up and limping away as fast as possible. The wound stung more than it should have as they tried to retrieve their spear to hide behind, aching to rejoin Khavur and retreat into themselves further.

’... There's no saving him,’ they thought sullenly, though such thoughts quickly turned bitter, ’There is no love, no goodness within him. He broke Overseer Alpha and he will do the same to the rest of us if he continues on this path.’

Chaos-Two glanced at Zoisite, at Labradorite, then at Selenite.

’He would break or kill us willingly if it meant using our stones to create more of his wretched monsters.’

But how did little Chaos-Two ever hope to change Vargas' mind? To make him see that what he was doing was evil? That this Chaos would destroy everyone in the end? Or was that the point?

They made their way to Khavur and retrieved their spear before sitting down heavily next to them, clutching their leg as they inspected it. Nothing to worry about, at least for now. They instead turned towards Khavur, aching to be small again so they could hide under their belly again. They wanted to hide under their wings and cry into their hide, feeling hopeless and like their death was looming over them.

They leaned their forehead against their spear and tuned everything out, their eyes open but unseeing. They couldn't stand to be involved in reality anymore, they wanted to go away. So they did. The shock definitely helped them retreat into the back of their mind, locking everything out just so they could get a moment of respite.

Their eyes glazed over and they were still, their wound bleeding sluggishly with no attempt to cleanse it or treat it despite having the means to do so. They'd departed from the meeting, though their body remained.

Desert Rose remained stock-still throughout the process- his introduction, the plans laid out, the punishment.

He only flinched at Kethri's inversion before pointedly looking away. That was not his place to perceive the remaining mass- he would not look to Aethril now. She would not be a punishment for him. Instead, his eyes unfocused to some distant point as his ears pinned back, the voices around him growing distant.

Business as usual. But- ah, he hadn't spoken on his own placement, and slowly he refocused back into the living world, sitting up a little straighter. Everything had been filed away for the sake of professionalism, here. All that was left was the small dragon's lifted chin, his talons shifting closer as his shoulders squared forward.

There was a long moment of silence following the punishment given to Chaos-Two, and it was then that he'd finally spoke up. "If no one else is inclined to it-" and he finally glanced out to the crowd, his brilliant eyes striking through various others in an emotionless gaze- "then I will train the young. And in the downtime when we don't have any, I can perform duties as a messenger, too- one stationed here, in case we need to get a specific message out fast. Or a general back up, in case..." Well, he glanced, finally to where Kethri once stood. The latter was something he was finely attuned for and felt like a natural fit, but the former?

Well, even if he hadn't had much experience with children, he'd started to understand them thanks to living with his excitable half-sibling. Even if he was small, he could keep them in check, manipulate them into place- raise them as the Forge's best.

Somehow, that sounded actually pleasant, for him. He had been overjoyed at the first rearing. Certainly, he could handle more.

Breathing in sharply, Desert Rose cleared his throat. "Will there be any upcoming chrysalises?" Right to business, then, and something that could be good to know for the rest of them. Breeding rights would be earned, yes- but did Vargas have anything in mind for now? There was the one for Dhracia, as far as he was aware, but when would that hatch..?

Many questions for later, then, he supposed.

Attikias knew he was going to be late. He probably missed the whole speech, too- he had to gather up a lot of things, and he kept second-guessing himself, uncertain how much he wanted to actually bring.

What he settled on was just his satchel, filled with tons of drawn-out plans and ideas for homes. Lights, what deer would make the best bedding- what to make the bedding out of, even- even down to various structures like a hatch for those who wished to enter their homes from above.

And, of course, Melody came along with him. She'd help for seeing construction from different angles, so he didn't have to cast magic to get a higher view, after all. The little songbird had nestled into the papers of his bag, on top of a little bundle of pelt to keep the scratchings in bark free from any smudges or the like. It'd settled in alright enough to carry, at least.

The elf heard the tail end of something- some sort of speech, from- Ah, shit. Aethril was here. Keeping quiet, Attikias crept around the edges of the gathering, his hands carefully on the leather of his satchel's strap. He couldn't prevent Melody's wings from fwipping through the air, but he himself could at least keep his own presence on the down-low, avoiding garnering the Hand's attention.

But as he rounded some larger person, he glanced down to what they were all looking at, and-

Oh, fucking caves.

Attikias flinched his gaze away and covered his mouth, his gut already turning. What the fuck did he miss? Pointedly not looking at the mass on the ground, Attikias sidled in closer to those sitting near Vargas, trying to train his mind on the architectural plans instead of whatever that used to be.

"I um-" he cleared his throat, speaking quietly. "I brought some building plans." Focusing on Vargas's enormous claws, Attikias opened his satchel and drew the first one- a larger one, for something close to the base, possibly made of earthen magic and rounded off at the top with a single opening for any potential smoke. Who knew if they wanted a fire pit- it would be nice, perhaps? Besides, options would always be good.

Carefully, Attikias glanced back to the flesh, then back to Vargas's limbs, feeling almost like a sheep admist wolves.

He just had to be cautious. That's all.