Oh, what was this? Chaos-Two surprised Cain, and Master Vargas as well, it seemed. Kethri's mouth had gotten her into trouble, much to Cain's perverted sense of cruelty and delight. The faint smell of blood was inhaled, tasted on its tongue and sending a shutter down its spine. It knew the taste of Kethri's blood, but how long had it been?

Did Chaos-Two delight in that taste? An amused twitch went through its whiskers. Master Vargas bellowed reluctantly, now faced with having to make a point out of the whole mess. To say that the Overseer was pleased with this result would be underselling the contentment that rumbled softly through its pelt. Keen red eyes settled briefly on Kethri as Aethril's heel pinned her down, noting how redundant Kethri might have been.

The owl had her uses. She had no tact, unfortunately. Cain was torn: did it show some mercy at risk of its own hide, or did it enjoy the show presented to it? As it considered, Kethri spouted her reasons to live, revealing knowledge she had purposefully kept hidden, a bargaining chip that asked Master Vargas to call off Aethril.

That was not how it worked, unfortunately. The Master answered to the Hand, not the other way around. Cain felt a creeping sensation of disappointment.

Kethri's eyes held Cain's own, and it stared blankly back. Was she begging her Overseer to step in, to say something? A small thread of magic reached forward, whispering its answer to her: I'm not the one you should be pleading with, Cain thought grimly, rising easily to its toes.

And Cain's magic pried open her mind, grabbing at the knowledge she had been hiding. Evil Eyes (a plant) with no known cure, and deto-plant, hex berries-- it snatched this information greedily, staring her down. There wasn't enough information on the surface of her thoughts, but it memorized the mental images that it caught a glimpse of. It could do its own experiments if need be.

You sound like a traitor, Kethri, Cain thought to her. Hiding valuable information from us? Really? It considered saying something, but as its gaze raised to meet Aethril's deadly stare, it struggled to find something to say that would convince the Hand to spare her.

"Aethril," the Overseer mewled politely, "Do you think I could salvage this?" That was all it offered, an alternative: "I'm willing to try", but it was framed such that Aethril still held all the power in the choice. Aethril would know that Cain would not be kind to Kethri, and that it would exact a punishment much longer and crueler-- but if she wanted immediately gratification, she could simply say "no", and that would be that. As much as it wished to keep Kethri alive to hold it against her for the rest of her existence, it found that her life had already been spared before. Yes, Cain would miss their banter. But would Cain miss Kethri, truly? The thought filled it only with that same feeling of deep, disgusting disappointment.

That was how these sorts of things always seemed to go.

Draconua, the Sleepless Chaos, spared Khavur a menacing grin as the two-headed beast skulked into view, settling between her and the Forge's simpering terror. They had taught her how to fly, not at all by the kindness of their own heart—so, they held no place in hers (not that they would have, blackened as it was.) No debt was owed to them. Even then, honor was ever in short supply.

Lips pulling back over her chattering teeth, the valkhound then sustained a bored, disinterested expression; glaring vaguely through the Master's back, just barely scanning the crowd for action, motion, anything. Mental suggestion rang clear through her skull, but she waved them off—even if they had been quite out of place of the constant susurrus of Chaotic voices and impulses not yet acted upon. There had been no words, and so the blow deflected off her skull.

Vargas called her name, though, and she straightened. Eyes refocusing and head lifting, Draconua lapped at her chops—catching the rest of the Oil slicking them over—and listened for once.

She cared not for the Chaos Forge. They could waste away for eternity, wallowing in their stink of failure and weakness, and she would harbor not a single ounce of sympathy. It was merely fortunate that the Leviathan imposed a death penalty upon those that threatened his pathetic ilk. Any need to protect them was nonexistent.

Yet, there was the Black Spire. Her Creator's influence made manifest. A wondrously horrible centerpiece to this sepulcher of Chaos. The last echoes of His life as far as she could truly see in this Nest. A grin twitched along her maw, and she practically crooned. "There is no greater honor." (Rich, coming from someone who'd just been so limited in the honor department.)

Others stepped up to the plate, and still others spoke out. A plain bird offered her piece, and Draconua was content to simply ignore her and all else once again. Her gaze was far too fixed on her distorted reflection in the ever-shifting Oilstone. She watched as its surface churned and groaned with great glee, as if she were witnessing it in a whole new light. It was now hers to protect.

Hussaresque wings went loose at her sides as she padded around it, taking up a defensive stance already.

Click! click! click!ing heels rattled across Draco with the sound of a shriek.

The valkhound straightened again, a dog having caught wind of a scent or some sound, and whirled on the spot. White feathers had been sullied red, and the substance was dripping off of—oh.

Steeped in the oversaturated and -contrasted light of the Spire, the bloody mask that was her face tilted. Curious, intrigued, and almost delighted, because it was Chaos-Two whose face was marked; Chaos-Two who sputtered in their own defense before their Master. Chaos-Two who had at last put blood on their claws, who had showed that little bit of what a monster they should be. Draconua huffed a short laugh, then broke into the shrill wheeze of a kettle.

She barely broke away from the Spire to bellow: "PERHAPS THERE LIES SOMETHING RESEMBLING A SPINE AFTER ALL!" Her tail lashed, the scent of blood in the air already maddening her—there was that struggling little beast, trapped beneath a heel, and not begging for her life as so politely offered. Oh, and it was so small, and so easy of a target to tear apart with little backfire, but in the moment, that made Chaos-Two's outburst no less pathetic to her.

They had snapped, and the Sleepless Chaos reveled in it, hide twitching and sparking with peaks of unrestrained black lightning. A bolt lanced back into her body, sizzling as it met the conduit of her flesh and blood, but her grin was unfaltering.

Aurelia was already focused, hanging onto every word that left their Master's maw. But when their Overseer Cain spoke to them, soft acknowledgment and a gentle urge to listen closely on their tongue, she was sure to do so even more- if that was possible for the young valkhound. It seemed the bulk of the meeting was in fact over sooner than she had anticipated. She was to meet with Master Vargas after the meeting, as well as several other Forge members, all of whom she would try and memorize for future greetings. She had half a mind to gallop over to Master Vargas, that was until blood was spilled.

No sooner than the meeting ending one Chaos Forge member had bitten another- and so soon after Master Vargas had told them not to...She didn't understand, though it wasn't her current place to. Besides she was a bit frozen at the current moment, lost in overlapping thoughts as she inhaled deeply. The smell of copper caught in the air as her tongue flickered out from clenched maw, trailing over lips before receding and staring down at the event currently unfolding before her. Her skin writhed as whispers grew in hunger, her gut churned with a familiar ache, ravenous, and- she took a moment, breathing heavily. Calming.

Whatever was happening seemed to invoke the attention of The Hand Aethril- and from the looks of it, it was anger. She stepped on the owl's tail feathers and asked exactly how many messengers there were. Aurelia strained to hear the rest but, to pick apart tone and intent. Aurelia felt intense curiosity while she was watching everything unfold before her, especially after Master Vargas was quick to alert everyone to pay attention. And when her Overseer Cain stepped into the situation, well she was completely and utterly glued. Well there would certainly be no fear of her wandering off before speaking to Master Vargas, especially not while all this was happening.

How many times had Aethril been in this situation? How many times had her fingers caught around a rebel's throat, and she waited for them to spew their pleas, their tears, their whimpers for their lives? Some had been a little more dignified-- but none of them, that Aethril could remember, had a worse case than 'I know about plants.'

"What makes you think you're the only one that harbours this information?" The Hand asked, and there was impatience lining the very edge of her tone. "What makes you think you are the only one capable of... discovery?"

Her foot twisted with a scrape of the heel against smooth rock and bent the pale feathers underneath. "Your duty, both of you--" and she passed a glance to Chaos-Two at this, too. "Was to shut up, and listen. You were given simple, fair rules: do not attack your allies, and do not piss me off. While I very much appreciate your valiant defense of my honour, Chaos-Two, you were given an explicit boundary by your Master."

Pale eyes flicked to the Overseer-- Cain, who came quite high on her 'most trusted' list. Cain, who had shown her nothing but politeness, respect, and the makings of a hard worker. Her hand trembled-- not with fear, or guilt, or even sympathy for the owl underneath her, but blatant restraint. Every fiber of her being told her to get it over with.

And yet. "I trust you to try, Overseer," she said, and that shaking hand stabilized and beckoned Cain closer. "In fact, I trust you to have better reason than-- whatever you call this one. Go on. Please."

Could it? With Kethri's life in Cain's paws, she flashes the Overseer a strained smile as she waited.

@Cain

Garnet-Epsilon


The point like sensation of someone else in their mind makes their mane rise, but they do their best to keep the rest of their body still as everyone else around them reacts.

Speaks.

Claims roles and desires.

What... did I do, exactly? They wonder, then, if Overseer Cain doesn't know, and Master Vargas has no preference that's been stated.

Nothing wrong, per se, other than not completing their task. They aren't the only failure, and they take some small comfort in that before-

They smell blood, and hear cursing to their side.

Taking a few steps to the side to avoid being anywhere near the spat between Chaos-Two - the other failure, pushing their luck, really- and then the owl. A smug white owl they vaguely recognize from before they departed the forge, and they decide to stay close enough to observe what will happen to Kethri.

Feathers pinned under a shoe, they watch the owl struggle with a... small amount of. Well. Glee isn't the right word. But they do look smug, and they take an innocent expression, tilting their ears outward and head to the side as they watch. Eyes and head tilting back and forth between the Hand, the Overseer, with curiosity.

No violent gleam in them, just simple curiosity, and a calculated blankness of someone awaiting something to change their path.

A Hand's ire seems to be equal to that of Lord Dhracia's, and they then settle their gaze on the shaking hand with a few blinks. If only they could know what she was shaking for. Restraint? Rage? With these high ranking others, the hybrid never really knows.

But, they don't open their beak.

They'd learned from Chaos-Two's mistake, as valiant as is had been.

As much as adding their own sarcastic comment about knowing about plants is a basic in these caves, how they could learn anything this owl had discovered- they'd said their piece, spoken of their memory and desire to improve and be a messenger. Silence is ad golden as the blood is red running from the owl's leg.

Dracuna's roar made Cain stiffen, whiskers twitching. Yes, Chaos-Two had finally shown some spine. It would cost them, though. That was the difference between the brave and the successful. Cain's lessons had always told it to ensure no flaw in its plan before enacting it, demanding caution and dilligence.

Maybe the others were given mercy, a chance to try again, but Cain lived knowing that failure was not an option. It need only fail its job once to be snuffed out. It thrived on this high pressure, where others seemed to crumple. There was a reason the Overseer looked down on the new lot, and this was one.

Even its fellow Overseer had let it down.

Aethril, however, accepted Cain's proposal. At least, she was willing enough to let it try. So when she beckoned, the feline stepped forward, spreading its wings to show the gnarled scar upon one wing, and tilted its gaze briefly down to study Kethri, helpless beneath the Hand's heel.

Cain had a delightful thought that, should Kethri survive, she would be stripped of her name. Was it a sapphire, her stone? Sapphire-One. Meat-One. Even better.

Aethril challenged it, and Cain's crimson eyes raised up to meet her cold gaze. It was an honor that she was giving it the chance, and even though it was starting to doubt that Kethri deserved it, the Overseer planned to make it worth every second.

"Unfortunately," Cain raised its nose, whiskers twitching. It intended to make this a lesson, both for the young Aurelia watching, and the other ignorant faces that stared mindlessly at the scene. "I suspect it is too late for apologies. Were I to make such a grave mistake, I would make it a point to make proper amends. One should say that they are sorry, acknowledge their mistake: in this case, disrespecting you, Aethril. And then they should say how they will do better in the future."

Cain sat down, tail whisking neatly around its slim body and tucking over its toes. "Master Vargas would tell you that it is a waste to kill unnecessarily. The first mistake should not mean death, given the creations we are, are born with flaws. Doubtlessly, they will make mistakes." Cain felt it had never made a mistake worth mentioning in its life, but every other creature here certainly had. (Or, truthfully, Cain had never gotten caught.) "Thus, we must learn to make up for our failures. Learning how to properly apologize is part of it, and the part I will emphasize here:"

"Find how to do better. To be better. Declare how you will change, and then stop at nothing to prove that you are worth more than your failure."

It spoke to everyone in the room who had failed. Who disappointed it. Its words were sharp, vicious, and biting.

"Those who cannot do that much, should reconsider their worth. Gembound or valkhound, bodies are easily replaceable."

Then it went on, lowering its voice to speak once more about Kethri: "In this one's case, I offer my proposal. This meat has no diplomatic potential, it is true. She does, however, have a fiery disposition and a ruthless personality." It held Aethril's gaze with a sharp intensity. "These... Passions," Cain spoke, "could be redirected into a weapon. I offer her purpose be made to deal with unpleasantness. Murder. Assassination. And should she fail, it had best be in her own death. I believe Master Vargas has made it clear our opinion on traitors."

Cain paused.

"Meat," the Overseer addressed Kethri suddenly, raising a paw to bat at her wing, the same wing that had broken in her fall at their first meeting. "You should show your gratitude toward Aethril. If you cannot do that much, then my words are meaningless." Its red eyes burned. Its magics clung still to her, prying into her heart.

If she was not sincere, then it would feel no loss when Aethril took the life from her stone.

@Kethri

Kethri felt anger and rage through the whole speech. Not directed at Cain, no, she liked them enough that she could very easily direct her anger to who deserved it. That being the blue elf, of course.

She stared down Cain, eyes glowing with a barely held back intensity as she peered past them for a moment. She contemplated his words, her displeasure simmering for a moment.

Murder? Assassination? Oh how her heart picked up at those words like a woman offered a bouquet of flowers. A second chance she just couldn't refuse. She would snap up such a chance eagerly if she could, the only thing in her way being her own selfishness and narcissism. She couldn't feel any remorse for Aethril, not one bit. She focused back on Cain again, feeling a twinge. But was a twinge enough?

No... no it wasn't. She wasn't sorry.

"... Thank you-" Overseer Cain "Miss Aethril," she said slowly, "I will do better. I will become a weapon for the Forge, as Cain says. And if I cannot do so in this life, then I will in the next."

A smile crossed her face. She knew as well as Cain that she most likely wouldn't survive the encounter. All emotions directed towards Aethril were either hateful or fake, though the ones towards Cain were entirely genuine, and she almost felt... sorrowful. No, she definitely did. She felt like she'd failed them, failed to be more than the pathetic, small owl she was.

But maybe she could improve next time.

@Aethril @Cain

Content Warning
This post contains potentially sensitive material:

violence

gore

death

A slow breath.

There was something calming about the Overseer's words as they rang in Aethrtil's ears-- or perhaps it was just their appearance alone? --that put that little hunger for blood to a standstill, for now. She listened. She listened to everything Cain had to say without interruption, eyes flashing with gentle, attentative attention.

It would be a waste. This Nest wasn't what it used to be: a death would impact Vargas's forge until a replacement was found, or created. Aethril didn't like the idea of that waste: hadn't she tried to minimize such before? The pointed stone of that creature rang through her mind and she thought of what it had been created into, and how it would be trained and beaten into obedience.

Her eyes slid across to the Master, briefly. He needed to rest. She couldn't keep making demands of him.

The Valkhand's gaze returned to Cain in silence, and she wondered-- did it care? Did it truly care, or was this a show? This good faith was new to her, Cain hadn't displayed it when it last spoke of gembound. In fact, it only had ill to speak of them-- it showed her one, a puffin, who distinctly had something wrong with its brain.

The standard had been set. As far as Aethril knew, this was no isolated incident. That passion that could be turned into a weapon could be turned into a weapon against them. Between its arrogance, its hiding of information (as useless as that information might be), had the makings of something that brought an all-too-familiar taste to the Hand's tongue.

Rebel.

If there were words that could have saved Kethri, the owl hadn't found them. It didn't take an expert to pick apart Kethri's tone and see it for what it was: utter bullshit. Between an image to uphold and a Nest to protect, prioritize and make efficent again, it just wasn't enough. "Thank you, Overseer," said the Hand, her voice considerably softer.

There was no outburst of anger. There was no ugly rage, tears, screaming. She dismissed Cain back to its spot with an incline of her head and her gaze was lifting to the rest of the Chaos Forge, chin held high. "Listen well," the Valkhand began. "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. Despite what you might think, neither of them put these little rules in place because they wish to restrict you, embarrass you, or find reasons to punish you."

"These rules are in place to protect you. These punishments are put in place to observe what will happen when you step out of line. Any of you." Her eyes were hard, cold, and she drank in the presence of every single creature in the room: from the gold-and-white whelpling to the laughing monster bathed in oil. "You are all cut from the same cloth. You all serve a purpose."

"And oh," her head dipped to look at the owl beneath her shoe, "do you serve a purpose."

His magic was all too eager, this time, to answer her call. It came to her freely, flowing like water as it opened a vacuum-- a small black hole, inside of Kethri's chest cavity. The very air around her shuddered, and Aethril released her foot from Kethri's tail-feathers.

"Your purpose, Kethri, is to be an example."

All at once, the pressure collapsed. There was a horrific rrrriiip of live skin tearing apart, thunderous in ears. Bones cracked and split. Entrails, organs, fleshy, pale lungs unraveled like ribbon where the owl once stood. It seemed as though it were all happening in slow motion, blood and feathers and wet bits of gore hovering in the air before the vacuum was shut and it all fell into a mound on the ground with a hollow squelch.

Delicately, Aethril bent and picked up the blue-white stone with two fingers and a thumb. She gave it a firm shake to rinse the blood from it. There was no feathers visible of Kethri anymore: the vacuum had turned her entirely inside-out, everything that should have been kept safely in was on display for all of the Forge to see, and for those who could not see it, the Hand make sure to delicately kick the wet remains into the center of the meeting. She wanted them to see it.

"Master Vargas is protecting you from me. I do not want to hear of this happening again. Is that understood?"

Content Warning
This post contains potentially sensitive material:

gore

violence

death

Really, there was only enough time for Kethri to get just a few words out. Aethril talked, and talked... and talked... before she said the owl's name, and her time was up.

"Well shit," she said, not screaming or crying or anything else, it was boring all things considered.

Well, aside from the fact that she was now inside out. I mean Jesus H. Christ! So much for herpretty feathers because they weren't even visible anymore. She was just an ugly little mass of ew.

What a way to go!

*takes marker out from behind ear and adds another tally to the 'characters murdered by hot women' box* exit kethri from life lmao

Dread filled V-Zoisite-One. And yet, as it stood there, hunched next to its hatchmate, it knew better than to retreat.

Oh, everything in its body wanted to go find a hole to lay down in, to hide from the screams that were to come. Aethril wanted an audience. Zoisite didn't dare raise its head to see what the rest of the Forge was doing. It cowered, nothing more than a worm.

Its quills trembled. The words that Overseer Cain spat felt like daggers aimed directly at it. Then came Aethril's words, and a sickening sound of bone and blood twisting and sputtering. Zoisite did not breathe.

One day, that would be one of her hatchmates. Or Zoey herself. Then what, worm? Nothing. Of course, nothing. Khavur tried to change that, and what did any of them have to show for it? Nothing.

It was Chaos-Two's turn. They were going to be punished for striking without thinking. For injuring another. How long would it be before the Zoisite made the same mistake? Taking Overseer Cain's words into consideration, how long would it be before its worth was called into question?

And what of the other Overseer? Of-- of--... It didn't dare. Eyes closed tight, quills rattling like a rainmaker being violently upended again and again, it clenched its jaws.

It would wait until something told it to move.