- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas gave this question perhaps more consideration than your average creature should have. No "well, I don't want to murder others?" popped out of those hook-toothed jaws; no reassurance or explanation that all creatures could feel pain. Or maybe that cold-blooded killing was morally wrong. No: it was clear that he hadn't thought this over, yet, himself.

And his answer, far from being made up on the spot, was again honest: a sort of mulling-over, a musing-aloud, that he shared with his new Overseer. "I do not quite know," he said. "In the past, it was my duty to hunt and kill the damaged who had fled but we did not have... children. You understand, they spawned fully-formed, as Khavur has. But I did not kill the newly-hatched, simply because I was not there for that, Overseer." Vargas eyed Orthoclase-Alpha, thoughtful. "I did not create and perhaps that is the distinction? These are my creations--and yours--and I prefer to salvage them if I can. Perhaps it is that I do not wish failure. Or perhaps I do view them with somewhat more softness than I should; again, a liability that might be used against us." Vargas leaned back, some, considering again. "I have never believed in killing the unhatched--the newly-hatched--before they have a chance to prove themselves. And with these," he added, nodding back to Draco in general, "we will be training them to give them that chance. I do not see them as prey," and here he shrugged. "It is difficult to do so. Though I do miss the hunt," he added, almost wistfully.

Here he fell silent--answer honestly given, if not, perhaps, the heart-to-heart it could've been; and waited for the rest of what Orthoclase would have to say.

@Orthoclase-Alpha

Sentiment. That's what it was. Not that Orthoclase-Alpha could fathom it—not anymore. Perhaps it could a peculiar... softness. Yet, the monster'd always attributed that to just wanting to avoid failure. From the moment Zoisite burst from its shell and revealed that it was upside-down, it found itself fretting. Imperfect. When it decided that it could not hunt, Alpha covered that up and kicked sand over it. V-Labradorite-One's brief escape into Canis—it'd tried to avoid dragging the thing in kicking-and-crying in its moment of vulnerability.

It found itself dissatisfied with its master's answer, but it just choked that down and turned its head away. The Overseer almost still didn't believe that he'd done what he had to protect it; no matter how much it tried to think that he did. (Can you blame it? It didn't know any better.) Now wasn't the time to dwell on it.

"... if any of them mean anything to you," and maybe they did, "you must never show it."

Alpha retracted its prior statement: "don't kill them."

Hooked claws curled into the earth, and it hauled itself up to stand again without so much an affective grunt.

It paced a ways. Then, it dropped its head, "I don't know." Names, ranks, titles—those weren't significant to everything. They hadn't been to Beta; not from what little it actually recognized in his clutchmate. "If one rebels—" no, no, it... didn't want to kill any of their own. Teeth gritted. "I don't know." Alpha paced sideways, pivoting to gaze just past Vargas, quills prickling. I don't know, had never been a good answer.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

"Good! Then we will start with that," Vargas boomed, seemingly oblivious to Orthoclase-Alpha's inner turmoil.

He wasn't, though. He was finding it ironic that Orthoclase's apparent concerns about perfectly presenting itself and its answers were, in fact, its most damaging trait. Of course, he had no idea of knowing what exactly it was worried about and his guess was just that--a blind assumption. But it had never been one for hiding body language, and its pacing, the movement of its quills, the eye contact or lack thereof--what could be seen without pupils, at least--tended to reveal when it was... unfocused.

Never mind it now.
"Part of your job will be finding out what they desire. Making them desire what you have to offer. We make names something rare--we must earn them!--and so that bears value. Anything not freely available--anything withdrawn from us--we yearn for more, as a rule. Take it away to punish them. A name cannot be so easily taken, perhaps, but hunting and roaming rights can. I think a week not allowed to leave Draco would irritate any of us," he added, with dour amusement. "Physical punishment is an option though do not overuse it. In some cases--V-Chaos-One, for example--you may not find anything else that works. That one gives me trouble," he added, musingly. "But in my era, we had no freedom to do as we pleased, to roam or to explore. These have that by default, once they are of age, so it is hardly something to strive for. Likewise the right to reproduce." A pause, as he considered. "You may need to find their individual desires to look for rewards; and some, like Garnet-Delta, are dutiful enough, responsible enough, that good service and praise alone is a powerful reward. Those are to be valued," he added.

Orthoclase had been like that, once. The thought was... disappointing.

Vargas paused, now, to see what it would have to say; its reticence had made a comeback, but perhaps by brushing over whatever it was overthinking (and refusing to share) now, it would refocus on the new topic... and speak.

Perhaps not; he was still feeling out its personality in that regard.

@Orthoclase-Alpha

It latched too easily onto the new subject; fell too quickly for brushing off the last conversational topic.

Burning eyes refocused as its head jerked to face Vargas more directly. The rest of its posture was still strangely tense, but at least it would play along. The Overseer did little more than take in words, chunk them up, and cram them into that thick skull of its: motivation was a matter of giving and taking; of observing what desires were there; of learning how best to sate the creatures of the Forge.

Alpha sniffed absently. Praise, service, names—all apparently viable options for reward. Limitations and necessary violence for punishment.

When it hadn't been given a leading question (and hadn't found itself with any follow-up questions) the monstrous hybrid dipped its head once and grunted, "I see."

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas stared, and then exhaled softly. He gestured to Orthoclase-Alpha.

"I want you to find them, and prepare their training. Return to me with any questions, or if you have any troubles whatsoever. See that V-Chaos-Two gets the training that it needs; get Chaos-One under control if you can. Ruby-Beta will need sparring practice again. Garnet-Delta will be beneath your command--but do not abuse that power; it is skilled and talented and I will grant it a new rank or title of its own. Should we gain enough creatures to work with, perhaps it will be Overseer of the assassins and you, of the fighters. And one other thing, Orthoclase-Alpha."

Vargas paused, eyeing it.

"Has anyone spoken to you of fission-?"

Was it capable of such a thing-? He didn't think so; but it didn't hurt to ask.

"It is the ability to split yourself-? Have you heard of it? It was expected of beasts in our day. Some may be taken for Lord Dhracia's plans directly; others will be expected to split themselves, their feral halves taken for conquest and for chaos. But this happens after training, after testing... I fear we may not have as much time for that as I'd wish. And as Overseer you will need to know of these things."

@Orthoclase-Alpha

Better to start them sooner or later. Alpha could almost imagine the purple behemoth saying something about it being high time. Chaos-One and -Two were to be its present priorities, it seemed—as well as its own clutchmate, Beta.

—and Delta. It hooked its claws into whatever cranny was available, mane puffing up before it forcibly smoothed down. The cat-hybrid, as Vargas said, was responsible, diligent, skilled. It was dutiful and did not let things get in its way; not even Orthoclase-Alpha. It wanted to be the Overseer, and it had been for those minutes that seemed like they stretched for hours. Alpha felt the burn of acid and bile in its throat whenever it happened to go by the garnet; the sting of wrong limbs moving in the wrong way.

Pay no mind to the fact that Garnet had gotten off worse than the kaiju after that incident. It hid it better than Alpha.

For all its faults with so-called sensitivity, the monstrous hybrid could compensate through its growling tone. It admitted after a time, "Garnet-Delta would... deserve it. The title and rank." Maybe then it wouldn't try to take me.

On to another subject, then...

Fissioning had only ever been mentioned in passing, and never with much description. The orthoclase racked its brain for the vast overflow of information that'd been dispensed in Orion, and dredged up "only what Master Astraea—and you—said. Splitting to produce." It shifted slightly. "Nothing else."

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas didn't miss the swell and fall of quills, nor the begrudging tone--was Orthoclase-Alpha jealous..? (He knew nothing of their unintended battle, however brief it had been.) But it gave credit where credit was due, and if Alpha was angry at Delta, that only made such praise from it all the higher. "Good. I value your opinions on all of them," and his tone, at least, was sincere.

"We will need to find a way to teach them to fission. Train Chaos-One hard. We will start with him, I think," Vargas added, thoughtfully. "Is there anything else that you can think of, Overseer? -And I wonder; would you still like time to find your own name, or ought we to ask the Creator to grant you one? I doubt that He would speak, but it is a possibility. That is an offer, not a threat," he added; "if you wish to find your own, take your time."

@Orthoclase-Alpha

Opinions. Right.

The Overseer didn't let its guard down, but it remained fixated on Vargas as he spoke. He slipped out of his mouth again when Chaos-One was mentioned; entirely unintentional like it had been before with the titanite. Alpha didn't acknowledge it so much now—but, it still stuck out. The little beast was insistent about his name. Nidhogg, was it? Ah, well...

It stiffly tipped its head to one side, huffing. Teaching required knowing. "How do you... fission?"

Regardless, it shook its head to the first question—if it had any other thoughts—and hesitated over the second. Some internal sense made it balk at the idea of asking the Creator for a name; perhaps the same one that urged it away from this spire or demanded it leave the hole. They were interrelated, all belonging to Him. The orthoclase, determined as it was to follow whatever direction Vargas pointed it in, couldn't invest itself enough in it.

Alpha paced further and shook its head again, "no. I'll find my own."

Somehow.

Some way.

It wondered if it should ask those few Gembound it knew; then, it found itself backtracking. It hadn't spoken to any of them in cycles. Any one of them would pry like they had before.

It'd find a way.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas thought about this, for a time. How best to explain it-?

"Do you recall how it feels to impart your magic to a near-dead stone, to return it to life-? It is-... like that, but... inside-out," he began, and boy was that a bizarre start to a description. "You must grasp your own magicka, within your stone, and force it from you in two directions. Force it through your flesh, to take new form. It is agonizing, at first, but that changes." A grimace. The screams were... haunting, really, though the results could be impressive. "The new creature may be controlled, or again it may not but they are never intelligent, and incapable of magic. Brutes. Weapons, to point at our enemies. A simulacrum, I think, of a true living being: an echo."

Feral copies were generally just that: feral, and violently so.

"Do not worry about it overmuch, for now. Nor the name. Go, and come back to me when you have need," Vargas ended, at last.

The Overseer, it seemed, was dismissed.

@Orthoclase-Alpha

exit Vargas

Alpha nodded mutely at the start of the explanation, and then promptly was lost in it. Agony was perhaps the only part it really comprehended; none of the important... meat of it. The copies being uncontrollable and without magic, it'd perhaps already known—or, rather, surmised. All of those bat-monstrosities in Orion were relentless. Even if they were weapons to be pointed in a certain direction, how were they... taken to where they needed to go... ?

The Overseer didn't ask. It supposed it'd find out, if they did produce and deliver to Lord Dhracia. "Do not worry about it overmuch," Vargas'd said, too.

Dismissed, the kaiju dipped its head. "Yes, sir," came the prompt response. It waited a moment longer before taking its leave—in case its Master had anything further to add. If nothing came, it slithered back to whence it came. Perhaps it'd go for Chaos-Two first. The hoofed creature would be easy to find; it was large and often lingering in one place for an extended period of time.

exit, unless stopped
@Vargas