- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas blinked at Callista, and maybe unexpectedly, grinned.

Or maybe "grinned" was the wrong word for it, given the weird, rigid leather-hide that made up his face. It was more of a parting of the jaws, the wrinkling of the muscular beneath to attempt a grin warping just a little. His gaze sharpened again, attention drawn back from wherever his mind had been drifting.

"Ahh... you do not know of the vast battles of the cosmos. There would be a fun story, over more drinks, maybe. Not that I am hinting. It is just that it is..." What, grand? Monumental? Dramatic, miserable? Hrmph. "A lot," he finished lamely. Claws tapped wood as he considered. "Chaos is but one of the forces that battle for supremacy, for place. I don't know why each world is chosen. Or each... place," because it wasn't always worlds, was it? Look at these caves, or moons, or entire planes of existence. "I suppose the reason changes. But there is Chaos; there is unchanging and stagnant Order. There is willpower, life, perhaps half a dozen other themed deities and powers each reaching for their own desires. Some do not fight. Others do. Some, like ours, reach out to spread our Chaos, or Order, and are countered, battled, forced back or victorious!"

He shrugged, the sudden energetic-seeming summary falling away abruptly. "I have never been to war. Only overseen its construction." An odd way to phrase it, maybe. But he looked back at Callista, then. "That is our reality." And he looked around, at the tavern. "I suppose the caves are peaceful by comparison."

@Callista

I used to think that the day would never come
I'd see the light in the shade of the morning sun

Callista sat and tried to comprehend the story Vargas was spinning for her. Her tail had swept around her chair and was resting in her lap now as she absentmindedly played with some of fur on it. Yes, Vargas was right, between what he was describing and the life she had known, these caves were the most peaceful place in the universe.

She'd seen...a bit of violence. Not that much, but her own abilities, limited as they were, hinted at greater possibilities of strife. And it wasn't like she wasn't a traveler at all, she'd seen ruins and stuff. Although it occurred to her at that moment that she hadn't really been everywhere. Toss that in the back of her mind for later. She'd heard of conflict too, the battle that had occurred in Leo some time ago...all before her lifetime, thankfully.

It did make sense that forces of Chaos and Order would fight for dominance. They were opposites. Although she still could not understand why they ever had to be separate, when everyone had a bit of both in them.

"Yeah, I guess so. It sounds like a violent world out there." She blinked, looking at Vargas, considering something herself as she watching him deflate a little bit. Was that regret she heard? Or jealousy? She couldn't tell - he was extremely hard to read and she was not exactly a master at reading people. "Is that...something you want to do? Go to war?" She frowned. "Do you even like your job? I mean, the whole raising armies of Chaos despite their inability to follow any orders. It sounds pretty exhausting."

That my life would depend on the evening moon
That the night would never comе

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

"Hmm. 'Like?' Parts of it are enjoyable. Parts are not. My task is an honor, however, and I would not give it up." Not for anything. It had become part of his identity, but more than that, part of his longest-term goals. And the "term" in question was a vast span of time that would be quite literally incomprehensible to most mortal minds.

"War. Perhaps some day, but it is not an urgent desire, no. And you? You seem to be a creature that was created half of chaos, or perhaps half of something else with the... purple theme," he added, gesturing vaguely at Callista's split coat colors. "Are there urges toward violence in you?" It was spoken with genuine curiosity, because he couldn't really figure out what Callista was. Feline, yes--absolutely. But the rest? He was guessing she was some sort of hybrid with something else, but he didn't know of anything in the cave created with a thematic split and a bipedal build, really.

@Callista

I used to think that the day would never come
I'd see the light in the shade of the morning sun

She nodded, part of her had figured his answer would be something like that. "Fair enough. I imagine it would be an honor." An honor to who, she didn't know. The god of Chaos? A higher up that worked out there in the wars? He obviously had been given the job by someone. In the cosmic scheme of things, perhaps he was quite high ranking, at least in comparison to her.

Did that give her more respect or fear of him? Not particularly, she decided. She didn't know these wars. She was not a part of it and if she could reject a job offer, then she could say that it had nothing to do with her physically. So while she admired and appreciated his ranking, she acted no differently towards him nor thought any differently of him.

As for herself...? She thought for a moment about it - was she violent? She considered, scratching her chin. "Hmm, I wouldn't say urges to be violent, but its fun to be violent at times I guess. And I like a good bit of mischief." She smiled. "I consider myself a bit of a thing of duality - I am both Chaos and Order. I like them both together. Can't have one without the other kinda thing." She thought of other aspects of herself and liked the conclusion she came to. "I like mischief and disorderly conduct, but I also like keeping things organized, I like systems, I like when things are in pairs." She blinked, wondering if there was a draft, what side would she fight on? Hopefully that never happened bc she would never be able to choose.

That my life would depend on the evening moon
That the night would never comе

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas considered, and studied Callista.

Was this just a set of personality traits that she'd developed? He didn't imagine so. Her nature appeared to mirror itself physically, as well, and he knew that enough of the other Masters considered aesthetics to be of importance.

"Do you know who made you?" he asked bluntly. 'Hatched in Orion, she said?' That wasn't an active creation site, so far as he knew, but maybe Astraea had left her there..? But to what end? He detested Order.

Then again, it seemed Callista was thinking of the concept of order, rather than the force of it. Not Order, but simply order. "I suppose you do not mean true Order, though. The Hive, and its minions. Mind control and an obsession for perfection, stagnancy... unchanging and rigid. None of that, I suppose, sounds familiar?"

@Callista

I used to think that the day would never come
I'd see the light in the shade of the morning sun

She blinked. "Um. No? Created me?" She thought back, wondering if there'd been anyone around when she'd hatched. But...hm, no. She'd hatched alone and had wandered for a bit. The idea that she'd been created by someone at all was a new concept to her. She shrugged. "Didn't know we were created. Thought we just kinda...happened." She looked up at Vargas, studying him back, head tilted slightly to the side. Now she was thinking further - if some of them were created, then surely Vargas was one of those. "Do you know who created you?" She was curious. Who had the power to just...make gembound?

As for these philosophical concepts, and real concepts really, Callista shrugged again. Oh yes, she'd heard of the Hive. She had yet to encounter one face to face, but she'd be interested, if only to meet one. As she'd like to meet one of these chaos beasts that Vargas trained. "I don't know all that much about it, really. Mind control doesn't sound too great, although I can't blame anyone for trying to reach perfection, nor hate anyone for liking things to remain unchanging. I sometimes like a good routine and predictability. It's safe, comforting." It did seem like it left no room for growth, but...well, again - duality. A little bit of both in her. A hint of mischief passed through her mind as she added, "Sounds like you're not a fan, though. They bothering you much?"

That my life would depend on the evening moon
That the night would never comе

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas studied Callista for a moment. "Some of you do just happen. But you are not one of those," and he spoke with utter confidence. Whether he was right was another story. But Callista didn't look like a regular Earth creature, spawned in by will and chance. She was something special, some sort of aesthetic and metaphorical design, he was certain. When Callista asked if Vargas knew who'd created him, he answered with a very brief, "Yes." It was clear he did not intend to elaborate, particularly when he went on by half-changing the topic. "Creating creatures in a particular design is the domain of the Masters. If you find yourself in Cepheus, the cinema has a show called 'Nest Nannies' that details some of the process."

He flexed one long arm, glancing at the door; it was clear he was considering leaving. Maybe he was thinking of the palace. Maybe of the palace's far stronger alcoholic drinks. But Callista's response about Order, and her follow-up question, jerked his attention right back to her. He seemed... surprised, and considered his answer rather than simply blurting it.

"Do they bother me? Hrm. I disagree with their concept. A lack of change is a lack of adaptation. A lack of adaptation is a lack of survival. In this nest-? They are an irritant," he acknowledged. It was honest, but he did not sound particularly invested. If anything he sounded... almost bored.

Or maybe distracted.

By the thought of a good mixed cocktail drink with a pink and swirly straw. After a moment his expression sharpened, and he leaned in a little, using one limb to hide his face from Bartholomew as he spoke quietly. "I do not think they do the good drinks, here." As if to say, seriously, you should go and visit Cepheus.

@Callista

I used to think that the day would never come
I'd see the light in the shade of the morning sun

She nodded - many reasons to go to Cepheus, apparently. Wine, Aethril, Nest Nannies. Put that on her list somewhere.

"Well then I hope I can find out whoever made me. I'd be interested to know." She gave Vargas a look that said "and I'd like to know who made YOU" but she didn't elaborate because he was changing the topic, and her attention changed with it. She'd probably otherwise prod at him, too curious to let it go, and it shuffled to the back of her mind to something to try and find out later.

She wasn't convinced that Vargas and anything like an unbiased opinion on Order. She stared at him, wondering if he understood what he said, because she immediately picked it apart and peeled it like a banana. "But they seem to be surviving quite fine...?" She pointed out. If they were an irritant, if they could take entire caves over with fungus, then surely their "lack of adaptation" was not a lack of survival?

As Vargas leaned down she glanced at her own drink, which was just about empty as this point. She knocked back the last of the mead quickly to not let it go to waste. She gave him a mischevious smile. "Bold to say that so close to the bartender," she whispered back. The tip of her tail twitched. "I'll have to try Cepheus though...if these aren't the "good ones" I'm excited to try what a good drink tastes like."

That my life would depend on the evening moon
That the night would never comе

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas nodded his agreement. "They are, for now. Survival on the scale of which I speak is in... the tens of thousands of years. More," he elaborated.

He hadn't exactly been around long enough to view true evolution in action, but it had sort of been his domain in terms of picking and choosing those who could survive, whose designs were best-suited for hardship. (And culling the rest, but that wasn't polite conversational material for dinner, he felt.) "When a creature is faced with... overwhelming odds," he tried to explain, picking his words thoughtfully, "it is often not merely physical prowess that saves them. Yes, they must have the endurance to survive. But more often than not, it is adaptability that allows them to thrive. To flourish and to outcompete." He was thinking back over the Hydra champions he had seen. The ones with clever tricks to outwit their competitors, or the ones who had cleverly used its hostile environment to their advantage. "The Hive is not here to survive, I think. They are here to counter us, to... interfere. They are not doing very well," and he said this without a hint of irony or malice. In his estimation, they'd been holed up in one cave for... decades? Maybe longer? And hadn't really done much aside from laying down some webbing. Hard to dig out, sure, but he hadn't really needed to bother.

"They are rigid. If you encounter one, and enter a fight? Throw pebbles on the ground. They are so wound up in ordering everything that they'll stop and rearrange it all before they even fight." Now his voice held emotion: faint, amused derision.

He looked around, and grunted. "Nedies--the chef--mixes a decent drink. Though if you can befriend the Hand, Aethril-? Or Master Nemean, though she is devastatingly clever and untrustworthy," and he said this with the full hope that Callista would repeat it--he thought Nemean would find it funny--"they are rather wicked with a cocktail."

@Callista