Aethril was doing her favourite thing.

Nothing.

She left Obieth to sleep or roam around the Palace at her own perusal while the Hand went to one of the balconies overlooking the gardens. She'd brought with her a multi-coloured slushie from the concession stand by the cinema and a pillow for resting her head on the sun lounger.

There was no sun, of course, but it would do. She kicked the lounging chair right back and put the cold slush into the accompanying armrest, stretching out. It was nice, in a way, to have dim voidlight light up her skin. It wasn't warm, but it was at least pleasant.

One leg folded over the other and a hand idly fluffed up her pillow before the Hand fell still, fingers locking over a decorated, golden bodice.

Truly, Aethril was living her best life, brainless and motionless.

Aethril heard the familiar clicking of Eggbert's nails and a voice she hadn't heard before, alongside their own footsteps which stopped just by the entrance to the balcony. In a slow moment she stretched out and rolled over to lay on her belly, forearms propping up the upper-half of her body, to get a look at the new arrival.

A cat? Sort of a cat. A batcat, perhaps, but this one was much smaller (and very cute). Her eyes narrowed, then drifted down to the gemstone lodged in its throat. "Ahh," she hummed out loud. "Overseer Garnet-Delta, I presume? Vargas spoke quite fondly of you."

She adjusted to sit on the edge of the lounger, elbows in her lap as she leaned over. "Sit. Do you need any food or water?" The offer was delivered a little absently-- more routine politeness than a genuine concern for Delta's well-being. She gestured to a chair next to the table, but whether Delta sat on the chair, table, or the floor, was up to it.

The Overseer settled, Aethril got right down to business. "How long ago was your promotion?"

Aethril's eyebrows briefly raised. Milk? She wondered, her head tilting as she watched the Overseer for a moment. "I'm sure we have just the thing," she said softly regardless-- having not really expected it to take up the offer.

Her head turned towards the balcony entrance, eyes honing in on a passing Lesser making the rounds around the Palace hallways. "Not too long, in that case," she replied meanwhile, all the while quite politely.

The ivory deer jerked, head twisting to face Aethril as she felt His magic lurch from her, her mind pushing into the Lesser. As it began to bound away, she turned her head back towards the Overseer. "Now, forgive me if this next question seems... insensitive," she went on. "But Vargas tells me that you are born from one of the new Gembound, born from the Natural Order. Tell me-- do you feel as though this limits your abilities, compared to Valkhounds?"

A pause, and then some elaboration. "Your Master spoke very highly of you, of course, and I find his innovation to use the new Gembound in his creations quite innovative-- but I'm worried of the consequences."

She had to make sure Garnet-Delta wouldn't keel over and die trying to train Obieth, of course, and as the ivory deer returned with a bowl of sweet-smelling milk, settling it down on the table next to the Overseer and returning to its duties, Aethril was leaning back.

"On a much nicer note-- I hope you're enjoying it? What do your duties as Overseer entail, what has Vargas given you to do?"

Aethril hummed, but her eyebrows lifted in slight surprise. Despite this Overseer being half-Gembound it despised them-- that seemed quite evident. Yet, the Hand couldn't help but wonder if Garnet-Delta was being genuine or if it was just saying what it thought Aethril wanted to hear.

She pried the lounger into an L-shape and used the back to rest her elbow on as the back of her fingers brushed against her lips with thought. Was the lack of intelligence in Gembound a mistake? What was the Natural Order doing? Was this Overseer just... unlucky?

This information, though a little predictable, was troubling to her-- and quietly, she pressed into the Overseer's mind, scanning his thoughts and emotions, and promptly found them to be... genuine. What had wrought this dislike to its own kind?

Aethril was tapping her fingers against her lips, now, thoughtful. the Hand said after a beat. There were surprises to be found, and Garnet-Delta was certainly one of them, and perhaps, even a pleasant one. "I'm glad to have learned of your progress, Overseer. You've obviously worked very hard to gain your Master's favour."

It'd be best to get them to train Obieth as soon as possible, and she leaned back a little further and shut her eyes. "I've a Valkhound-- a bodyguard," she went on. "Obieth. She needs training and Vargas suggested you, if you'd be so inclined."

As Garnet-Delta drank its milk Aethril was twisting around to lean right back onto the lounger again, a hand blindly going for her slush. "She's very curious, and she seems quite eager to learn." A long sip of icy syrup. "You shouldn't have much issue with her aside from a stream of questions, perhaps, or her attention going elsewhere. She pleases me greatly, however-- she'll make a very good guard with the right trainer."

Another sip taken and Aethril let this stew with the Overseer, listening to it speak back in peace for a moment. This would work out very well, she'd decided. Garnet-Delta seemed quite capable and it'd prove itself once she watched a session of it training Obieth. All that would be left is--

Her eyes flicked open. Assassin? The rebels had long concerned Aethril, even before she woke up-- not that hibernation had calmed that at all. Her fingers drummed against the cold cup for a moment before she took a sip from it and settled it back down on the armrest.

She waited for a break in the Overseer's milk euphoria, head twisting to watch it. "I understand," she said. "You may not be around the other Gembound as much anymore, but it sounds as though you've experience with them, Overseer. I was wondering-- should it suit you, of course, and your duties with Master Vargas --if you could do something for me."

Feline eyes narrowed, sharply. "I trust you know of the rebellion?" the Hand asked. "I've been looking for... individuals who would identify themselves as part of such. Isra tells me that it ended long ago, and I do trust her word, but--" Aethril was shaking head. "Do you know of any such people, Overseer?"

Aethril's brow knotted and, briefly, it crossed her mind-- what if they aren't loyal? Her fingers curled, interlocking together on her stomach in a subtle gesture of discomfort. She watched the Overseer for a long moment, before finally responding. "Come to me, of course," her voice was soft. "Obieth is my responsibility. If she proves disloyal, it will be my failure. It will be my job to correct where I have gone wrong."

It was an uncomfortable thought, but it was sincere. Rebelling, betraying her-- attacking Eggbert. All these were things that Aethril would consider Obieth a failure over. They were things that would drive Aethril to tear out Obieth's stone and hand it to Vargas to make something more compliant.

But still-- could she trust the Overseer's word on it?

The mess in Ursa? The Hive? "I would," the Hand confirmed with a grim tone. "It's an attitude that spreads very quickly. Even thousands of years ago, I highly doubt many of the rebels actually knew what they were rebelling for. It's a popularity contest, Overseer-- the hows or whys don't often matter in the eyes of their peers." Her nose crinkled up to the bridge, and then loosened out again with a long sigh. "It's the kind of mindlessness Dontacael is looking for. They become far easier to manipulate."

It troubled her; but the vision in the bowl of milk troubled her more. Aethril leaned over on her lounger to look at the puffin-- yes, she knew these delightful little creatures... --build some kind of nest, fall into it, destroying it, and promptly fall asleep. Was... this an intentional design choice? Why? "What's wrong with it?" She asked Garnet-Delta with narrowed eyes. "How did it become... so severely broken?"

Rolling back, one hand went to rest on her forehead. "It's good that you have allies, at least," she said. "Still-- I'd like for you to bring me one of these..." she gestured at the milk bowl, "blatant failures. I'd like to assess them myself, and should they prove a waste of valuable resources, I'd like you to take care of them yourself."

Aethril's eyes were shutting. "Consider it a test of your abilities, Overseer."