Zoey blinked slowly, finding herself feeling quite the opposite of Master Vargas's opinion. He was not incapable of feeling-- his care for his charge, for her and the rest of the Forge, proved otherwise. He was certainly out of touch with those feelings, like a callous had built up over his millennia of cycles. A necessity of the past, he seemed to emphasize.

... maybe she ought to ask him to hear more about those times. It struck her as something that he didn't like to talk about in great detail (unknowing, of course, that he was sparing her feelings more than his own.) .. maybe it would help to speak of those days. Maybe not.

Regardless, he offered her a question that felt like the culmination of their entire conversation. A question that felt like a spotlight, one that she could either recoil from or stand tall in, and her quills rattled at the heavy weight of it suddenly placed upon her shoulders.

A low, deep breath. She raised her head, her mind cluttering with too many thoughts. She worked furiously to arrange them, and began to speak as clearly and concisely as she could.

"Master Vargas," she said, "The reason is the same reason why there is life in the first place. If we were to be nothing but machine, why would we have desire? Have fears?" She knew he had his own wants and dreams. And fears. Why else would he wish for her safety...? "More... Moreover," she swallowed. "We are not alone in our desires. It would be one thing if you were the only thing that lived, or only part of a greater beings desires; but you are not. We are not. It is..."

... it was not black and white. It was so messy and complicated. "We are an uncountable, unknowable, enormous number of living things. Our lives are small, and they do not mean much in the scale of greater things... But, to live is to touch the lives of the closest things to your own life. These others have their own feelings, and each time you interact with them, you change them. This change can be for better or for worse, and can make you better or worse in turn."

A pause. "You do not make a garden," she hoped he would understand, "by neglecting the lives of others. You must care, must put more effort into another life, in order to ensure that you too may live. And maybe it would be easier to see this simply as a task to be done..." She looked at him, gold into emerald, and wondered if she was helping him grow like the plants she tended. "But it is much more rewarding, to know that you had made life easier for the flowers, and that when you look upon how much they have grown, it was because of your care for them."

She gave another swallow, her mouth strangely dry. "It is love. You'll see it reflected back at you, and you will know it. I promise." ... would he? Could he? Should he?

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas listened, quiet. Unthinkable, maybe, in ages past: for the Leviathan to listen, truly attentive and thoughtful, to a philosophical and emotional speech and to truly give it consideration.

And--ahhh--it was heartbreaking.

For Zoey had come to some conclusions, and he knew the answer to her questions--in fact, had given them to others, Onyx-Three among them--but to answer that rhetorical would be terribly cruel. Possibly devastating.

Still... he had asked a question, and Zoey had answered, and so now--oblivious to the irony--he danced delicately around that single topic to speak on the others, instead. "I believe," he said at last, with gentle humor, "that you may prove the better gardener than I. But," he went on, studying her, "I am glad that you are." Because the alternative, it seemed, was to collapse. To find no purpose. To succumb to purposelessness and misery and rage, as so many of them seemed to do.

Zoey-... she was earnest. She had found some purpose, some meaning, and she believed in it and who the hell would he be to destroy that? A monster in truth, that was who. That was what.

So he sandwiched the answer in, not an answer but an offer of one, because half of him was too honest and straightforward to lie even by omission; but the other half hoped she would not ask, that she would let it slide away because he did not want to give her that, not really. Let her keep her ignorance; let her keep her innocence.

"As to your question of fears... desires. I know the answer to that question," he offered quietly, "if you wish it. But its answer does not change the meaning that you find in things. Because whatever that answer is it does not give meaning; even if we are nothing but machines--as you put it--that would never dictate what we value. If you find value--for yourself; for all life--in the connections that we make with others?" Vargas paused, mulling his phrasing over, because this was most certainly beyond his usual conversation. He was out of his depth, struggling to stay afloat, let alone to swim. "Then that is... good. Good that you find reward in what you do," he went on, rallying a little, because this was like 'work' and work was familiar. "Good that you find... fulfillment." Ahh, awkward.

He'd very nearly blurted something about the meaning she found being just as meaningful as any other, and would've meant it in a good way but clammed up just in time as he realized how it might sound: accidentally dismissive. But what else could he say? She had offered near-poetry, a philosophical beauty rooted in stars, and all Vargas could say was "glad you enjoy your work."

He felt... clumsy, stumbling, in a way he did not usually feel. Awkward and off-balance compared to her grace with words and her acceptance of her own emotions. And he, in trying to be supportive of his grandchild--he was offering what?

And what could Vargas say to assure her that he... if not understood, was trying? Would remember what she said? Just that, he thought at once. That her words will not go forgotten. That they have value. "You speak," he tried, testing the words with caution, "with the wisdom of an ancient. I will bear what you say in mind," and would that be enough-? "Thank you."

@Zoey

Zoey stared up at her grandfather, heart in her throat. Outwardly, she was still and rather expressionless. She did not have the capacity to smile at Vargas's praise, to honor his humor with an appropriate softening of her features. The best she could do was quietly click her mandibles together, a faint grinding that was more again to gnashing teeth than a playful grin.

It was a curse and a blessing, because his follow up: an allusion to an answer to "that" question. He spoke softly, haltingly, as though that answer would bite them if he were to speak it into existence. He backpedalled it, insisting that the "answer" he had did not matter, did not change her feelings, but it felt... There was something about it.

She mulled over that, six golden eyes not leaving the leviathan's towering form. Master Vargas... He too, seemed to be mulling, his thoughts unfinished. She did not interrupt his train of thought, as a strange and particular feeling settled in her stomach like a stone.

It was a fleeting moment of respite when his last words finally came. Praise, not lightly given, the words carefully chosen like all those that had come before. She felt that he meant it, and she raised her head a touch higher at the words.

"You're welcome," she answered. "Speaking is only a small part... Living, acting, trying, is the important part. Words only reach so far." She made the point only as a stopgap between thoughts, really, and she wasn't sure if the sentiment really... landed. It wasn't as important as the weight that was pulling down on her, making her want to shrink away.

She did not recoil, no matter if she wanted to. This felt like something that needed to be faced directly.

"... Master Vargas," she began, saying his title and name as way of showing respect before the following question, which held very little respect indeed: "Who gave you that answer?" Her voice was suddenly sharper in quality. It was... Suspicion, and.... Maybe not anger, but the feeling was similar. A hot fire-poker to the heart. It was a question asked with conviction, one that demanded quite a lot and also held challenge to it.

Master Vargas claimed to have the answer to why life existed, and he hesitated to tell her.

She had a gut feeling, and she wasn't about to ignore it.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

He tried, in his infinite wisdom, to reach out.

To curl a magic hand beyond Zoey's stone facade, and sense what lay beyond. To use the gift she had given him and learn from this experience.

Instead, that magic refused him now. And beyond that, it curled back, a threading sense of doubt and unease infiltrating as though with sinister intent. It twisted through him, then became a white-hot surge of rage; then terror, and then horror so deep it seemed to plunge his limbs into ice.

It took him a moment to realize it was the item, the spell, that had failed. That Zoey's mind was not so chaotic a pot of boiling emotions. It took him longer still to regain control, to take a breath and force his mind above that drowning pit of overwhelming feelings, to bring himself back to the here and now.

He did not know how much of it had been obvious. He heard what she had said, and almost retroactively he registered her words, considered them, hastening to find an answer. That consisted of a hurried nod, though his voice, at least, seemed less distracted. "Someone's words are meaningless if their actions do not match those. Not," he added, trying to claw back some humor, "that this is what you meant. But actions mean far more; words are meaningless without them. Sometimes, anyway. So I suppose it makes sense that those actions are more meaningful."

Another deep breath led to a long sigh--not exasperation, but thoughtfulness--at her question. He looked off into the distance.

He was not--and it would likely be obvious--seeking some lie, or way to sugarcoat things. He was simply thinking on his phrasing. And his initial answer came as though he were still thinking; an indication that he wasn't done right away, not at first. "No one 'gave' me an answer." That pause, then, thick with thought; and then: "I do not know if I can describe to you the possibilities inherent in a life as long as mine. It is possible with enough thought and experience to learn the nature of most things! -Does that sound arrogant? It is true. It is also true that perspective matters," and almost, almost, he accidentally mentioned Lord Dhracia. How--of all people--she did not share his.

He stopped himself in time.

"Not everyone would agree with my conclusions after my answer. But it is the sort of thing that... when you know it, it explains a great deal. Perhaps it would help you, in understanding others," he added, almost indifferently. "But also, maybe not. You hold more empathy than I do; my understanding--my answer--comes from logic. I can tell you why a creature acts the way it does, in the most basic sense, and I would be right. I cannot gives answers to all such things. I've seen idiots with self-destructive tendencies that made no sense, but I've no doubt there are logical reasons. I'm just not omniscient," he added, amused. "But the point I am making is that I know the 'why,' but I do not experience it. I do not know it--truly know it--the way your kind do. Those not simply patterned from some design. Your history--your very being--is of a different essence than mine is." He said this without judgment: neither against himself, nor Zoey. He said it as one might compare air to water. There was no value given. It was explanatory, and little more. "If I gave you my answer, I would be teaching you some of my perspective. It is as I am learning some of yours!"

Vargas wasn't suggesting it. His tone did not indicate that he was; but he was honest, as ever.

It was just that, between the complex topic and sophisticated backfire of his magic, his words had gotten a little tangled along the way. He felt he wasn't really being as clear as he had been before.

But then... dancing around a topic without actually addressing it left little room for clarity.

@Zoey

Zoey stared up at Vargas, breath held for his word. Watching his unchanging, chartreuse expression as he searched for the words. She was only as patient as a predator waiting for the perfect moment to strike: hungry, starving, with nothing but want for what came next.

The Zoisite had been brought to life with magic passed down from the Leviathan's own stone. Maybe that was why, in this moment, as she focused so strongly on Master Vargas, that she felt her magic resonate to a frequency that she believed matched his own. It was not anything real, not in a physical sense, but on an emotional level, there was nothing more true to her. She listened, and felt like she was able to touch that thread that connected them.

When Master Vargas answer told her that her gut instinct was wrong, she did not have a strong reaction, which in and of itself was surprising. Instead of a heavy sigh of relief or of an instant release of all the tension she felt, the adrenaline simply faded, slowly, more akin to a leak in the tank than a balloon rupturing. She blinked at him, easing back into a more settled posture, listening to his heavy words and... And listening, more than she had listened before when he had gently tried to let her down from her grand thoughts and ambitions with his own truths: offered, but not freely given for a reason that she thought was worry.

What Vargas told her made a lot of sense, and also did slowly fill her with relief. She had been, she realized with a pang in her heart, terrified that someone had made Vargas believe that there was some greater truth. That that truth was bigger and heavier than anything a little grub could feel, and that was part of what made him the way he was.

But it wasn't some supposed truth with a capital T given to him by the beings that could turn gembounds inside out without so much as a flick of the wrist. It was not a law given to him by someone stronger, a rule that he had to accept to survive. Instead, it was a natural conclusion that he himself had come to. It was, ultimately, as he said: his perspective.

And so there was no hesitation when he finished speaking. "Tell me," Zoey blurted out, jaws clicking with alarm at her own sudden outburst. She recoiled, quills shuttering, and wheezed in a deep breath. Bashful, almost ashamed, she added: "... Please. I want to know your perspective."

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas grinned, briefly, as a thought occurred to him. Or... "grinned" was a strong word; his rigid face twitched slightly at the corners of his mouth, his jaw parting slightly so that the chartreuse glow gleamed between jagged teeth. His gaze held humor, anyway. "This would be a conversation best had in Pegasus, I think. sitting in the meadow, staring out at the herds of deer. But I won't make you march. You'll have to imagine it," he added, with a short, rare laugh. "But do imagine it." He became more serious, then.

The "smile," such as it was, faded. "You ask why you desire, or fear. There is a difference between those created and those not. Life springs up--how is not the question--but it is left to fend for itself across many worlds. Even here. Think of those deer, and know they were left for centuries without tending, culling. They were larger, in my era. Why is that? Now imagine entire worlds-... Mindless, wild beasts roaming. Think of the deer eating grass, predators eating them, none of them creations with specific purpose. Or if there is a purpose, no custodians to keep them on that path. You have watched those deer, in Pegasus--yes? They protect their young. They fight danger, or flee when it is too great. Ask yourself simply: what would happen if they did not fear?" He paused, studying Zoey.

He left space for an answer.

Then he spoke again. "If you have a hundred of these beasts, these deer, and you set them free in a place where the hounds will eat them... the hounds catch and eat the slowest. Among the deer, the fastest and sharpest will survive. The herd is strengthened, faster as a whole. The swift live another day, while the slow perish. The next generation is faster for it. What has fear to do with this? I repeat: what would happen if they did not fear, did not flee to begin with..? Those that fear, survive. These threats change life itself, over time. It gives life its shape, inside and out! The Meadow Deer were larger in my time because we hunted them. Without that danger, the smallest were no longer killed, and they have... shrunken."

He shrugged, a little. "If they lost their fear completely, they would all die. Fear keeps you alive, Zoey. It stops a beast from walking into fire or an enemy's jaws. It... developed, over time. It exists because it sprang up, and those without it fell away, leaving only those who did. What is created here is a mirror of those things, but my creators had little reason to imbue me with fear, with mercy. You-? You are descended from creatures wild in the fields. You are different. Orthoclase-Alpha is different. Or rather... I am different, from all of you, all of the Gembounds of this era."

That "smile," again, but fainter this time, and he went on, relentless in his gentle words. "Love... what would a herd of deer be without it-? The mothers, abandoning their young? The herds wandering, losing that strength in numbers--but for fear, maybe! And among the hounds that hunt them? The same; mates wandering off without a care... It is a social bonding. A thing that keeps them together, yes, but alive, so the next generation can thrive! Living 'machines,' as you say." He considered, then emphatically shook his head. "That does not make it meaningless. All meaning is only what you find in a thing." This seemed, perhaps, oddly philosophical from the Leviathan, but so was this entire conversation.

"The point I am trying--poorly, I think--to make, is that over timespans inconceivable to you or I, living beings change. The strong live. Those who adapt survive. Those who love, fear, who grow angry to defend what's theirs, who grow curious and learn new things... I have said survival is all that matters. This is truth. Fear is survival; love is survival. I do not think love is weakness, or some lie told by a machine mind. Allowing it to control your actions, to overwhelm logic, is. And either way it isn't necessary for those like me, created to Oversee. It was necessary for the deer, the hound--for your ancestors. In a nest of Chaos it can be... problematic, but so long as you understand it--where it is coming from, and its purpose--and do not let it control you, it is as useful and... valuable, as speed, strength or cunning."

He gestured to Zoey, claws unfurling. "Knowing this can help you understand others. -Is all of this troubling to you? Maybe you don't believe it? Or you do... but remember, why we feel things does not change that we do feel them. As I have said several times in the past few minutes--and I say again for emphasis!--meaning is what you assign to a thing. Perhaps knowing all of this of emotions, you are better equipped to help others who are lost in them."

He had no idea how she'd react. He feared it. Would she recoil? Would she think things over, as was her wont, thoughtful and careful? Was this already too tense a moment, too fraught with feeling, enough to ironically tangle her in all of it?

"If I may extend your patience a little further..." He had spoken much. He had over spoken, trampled over anything she might have said, but this... this was important. "You spoke of connections, yes? Of that uncountable number of beings with all our little connections. When I say that your feelings are only something that has sprung up when the rest is peeled away by brutal survival--in my eyes, that makes what you have said even more... valuable. Precious. Those connections, I mean. Those million little lives have come into being on their own, and the connections you are forging against all odds, despite the universe having no plans for such a thing... they are purely yours. That web you describe is something new, in the grand scheme of things. Something you are making for yourselves."

He'd rambled far too long. He'd circled his point, and gotten to it poorly, but he couldn't go back now and rephrase it all; he just hoped she understood. And that his words did not terribly upset her.

@Zoey