- THE LEVIATHAN -

"I do not care?" he parroted back, and ahh, if only his brows were not too rigid to quirk-... "You claim I do not understand, but it is you who do not grasp the truth. I have shown my spawn--all of the Forge, in fact--patience. I listen to them, and assign them tasks that they prefer. Their roles are chosen, not forced upon them. They are rewarded for progress and success, and only punished for disobedience, never accidental failure. They have the support that they require. I do not willingly thrust them into harm's way without a benefit to doing so," he added, musing again, though, that Ruby-Beta really hadn't needed to volunteer for Hydra.

"A wager, spotted dog," he said at last, and thankfully, his feet were no longer making sounds as he came up alongside her. "You grant life to two gemstones from my Forge--or grant two chips of your stone, and one of my Forge grants them life. One, you may raise as you see fit, and the other, I will train among the Forge." He waved a hand to forestall any immediate protest, since--as he knew full well--she'd at once cry about their 'cruelty.' "It will be treated well and--like all the Forge--have the option to leave if it so desires, and in fact, will not even need to earn that right. I will raise it my way. You raise yours. And after, say, six cycles have passed, we will compare them, and see whose creation is 'happier' and 'well-adjusted.'"

He paused, eyeing her. He didn't particularly expect her to accept his offer. After all, she had little to gain, bar perhaps a half-Chaos beast at her side, though he doubted she could ever control such a one. But it would be a reason, once she refused him, to gloat.

And if she did accept-? Well, he'd be able to test her bloodline firsthand, and-... wasn't there the slightest chance, perhaps, of seeing what she meant? Lord Dhracia, of all people, had asked if there were none he loved in this cave. And, speaking honestly-? There were not. He cared, but he did not know the meaning of the word 'love.'

The fates of those children he had failed, despite all his attempts--perhaps one of the Earth-beasts could show him what was missing.

Not, of course, in a sentimental sense, but... surely he could emulate it?

She glared up at him. Her first instinct was a protective, maternal fury: give her child, to him!? His torturing ways, his cruelty?

A split-second later her mind saw possibility--a kindness, one that would far outstrip any suffering a single child might endure. Her eyes narrowed up at him. Giggle considered, for a moment.

A child--it would suffer, with the Forge, she was sure of that. Be neglected, treated poorly, and that wrenched her heart in two. But what of all the ones that had come before--and all of those who'd follow? What if she could make a difference, here--really change the way this idiot Master ran things? Fix it for the rest?

"Since you gave no stakes, let me offer some," she spat, sure that he would reject them. "If yours somehow turns out happier, I'll never bring it up again, and you can keep it. But if the child I raise turns out to be happy, and yours isn't? Or happier," she corrected, "then you have to take me to Draco, and let me show you how to raise your fucking children. And," she added, one hundred percent fiercely certain, "you have to use my changes. No 'I took some notes' bullshit. You have to change things. I let you take one of my children to raise, and you fuck it up? I teach you how to do it right, for all the ones that come after." And she stared at him, sure that he would say no.

- THE LEVIATHAN -

"Deal," Vargas snapped, and shot out his arm, hand-first, for Giggle to shake.

She had, however, no hands.

"To solidify a contract such as this," he explained, leaning in and hissing the words with all the smug satisfaction of the Collector, "you are meant to shake my hand. Use your teeth, if you wish, little dog."

Oh. A sort of hollow surreal feeling flooded her, though her fierce determination kept her ready to see it through. Guilt was already setting in--how would she explain this to her own family?!--but no, I am in the right. I AM. If I can change this...

She stepped forward, shoving her paw at his hand, her teeth bared in a snarling grin and her tail fluffed and arched stubbornly behind her. "Give me your stones, then," she snapped, because she sure as hell wasn't cleaving off any of her own.

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas considered only briefly.

He had no intention of handing his own design out to random earth-beasts as a hybrid--that would be too powerful. Too strong an enemy to have. No; but if he was going to do this right, he would need to give the hyena a true Chaotic challenge.

Chaos--the very element of the Creator--would, he knew, be best. But if she refused to give her stone, he would make do with V-Chaos-One. -Nidhogg, he corrected himself, for the serpent had at last earned a name. But its entire bloodline was as close to Chaos as one could come without bathing its magic in Oil. It shared Raheerah's ferocity and flame: first the back-talking alligator (tamed by age, at least), and then its half-mad swamp-spawn, and the creature Imp who had been such a rebellious prick that it had earned both the deep ire of Nemean and the respect of an actual Valkhand-...

And Nidhogg, such an extreme irritant that Vargas had actually foisted him off to Dragon.

...And the old lizard succeeded, didn't he? Where I failed. Perhaps this beast can teach me something after all. Something, of course, on how to deal with the faults and weaknesses these creatures possessed. Certainly it wasn't error on his part. (Right?)

"They will not be mine. That would be a risk I cannot take. But I will bring someone," he added. "...You will wait here." Half a question; half a command.

Giggle huffed, and flopped down on her haunches. "Go on, then," she snapped, wondering what he was up to now. Wondering who he'd bring back. As he turned to go, she called after him, suddenly urgent: "AND MAKE SURE IT'S THEIR OWN CHOICE!" She didn't want anyone ordered, forced, commanded to give away their child, either.

The moment he'd gone, she found herself fidgeting. Found uncertainty warring with a mother's moral choice, her instinct that she was right--that she'd succeed, and make things objectively better--fighting the guilt of the here-and-now. Can I really do this? was followed by I can't back out now, which in turn was closely pursued by but of course I can, I can't let fear dictate my decisions! Morality has to. And then--But isn't this the right thing to do, in the end? Her thoughts ran circles in this way, until it felt like darkness was closing in, like the world was suffocating, like-

Peace, Mother-Sister.

Omen had, until now, remained half-asleep and silent, somewhere distant in Canis--somewhere the Order didn't reach. Now, her touch was a balm, a relief that let the hyena first take a breath and then let it slowly out.

Thanks, Omen. I have to keep myself occupied, and this second thought was just her musing to herself.

She pushed up and turned away, her attention going to the mold that lay at the edges of her home. At the very least, she could clear a space for a child to grow, here. Assuming, that was, no caves-damned Praetors turned up. We really do need to purge this place, she decided, fierce in her maternal instinct.

- THE LEVIATHAN -

By the time the Leviathan returned, Giggle had managed to clear out a good chunk of Order. That didn't mean that it wasn't still dangerous to raise a child here, however, and he glanced around, debating. "You cannot leave a stone unguarded here," he declared, ignoring her little jump as he startled her--she'd been facing the other way, and his approach had been predatorily quiet, by habit. "And when it comes time to hatch, it is best it is protected. Or, we will place them in another cave." He pondered, for a moment. "If they hatch in Pegasus, they will be safe, and near enough to both of us, though it will mean splitting them up after hatching."

A scratching sound behind him alerted him to Nidhogg's arrival; the serpent had been trailing him, but was--in the manner of a large, clumsy, stupid dog--bounding around and occasionally getting a little lost. "This is Nidhogg," Vargas explained, gesturing to him with one clawed hand. "I could not get him to grasp the concept of granting stone. You will need to spare your own." Which was an irritant; it meant he could've given her Chaos to work with, after all. Maybe she could teach him.

Nidhogg scampered up, leering, his tongue briefly spilling past a razor set of fangs. Then he hissed, scrabbling closer, sniffing and peering at the hyena. "THIS?" he demanded, looking balefully back at Vargas. This thing--this little weak-looking soft and fluffy brown animal--was what he wanted NIDHOGG to crossbreed with?! It was pathetic!

...It also meant the children wouldn't really be competition. Okay, he was convinced.

Nidhogg looked back at her. "GIVE ME THE ROCKS." He had, as Vargas had explained, not quite figured out the concept yet himself.

Giggle was busily ripping white (asshole) mold from the ground when Vargas's voice boomed out behind her. To say she jumped was an understatement; she sprang into the air, landed half-sideways and scrambled back upright, spinning around with her heart set back to 'racing.'

"Fuck's sakes," she breathed, a mere murmur.

Then she was looking at Nidhogg, and wondering what the heck she'd gotten herself into. "This-?" she echoed back, even as he said the same of her. He was, very clearly, a shitting lunatic. His hyperactive near-aggression would be hell to deal with, if the child were to inherit it, and she let out a slow sigh.

Well.

She'd raised kids before. As for giving stone-? She glared at Vargas. "Those weren't the terms," she snapped primly, but-... her eyes drifted back to Nidhogg. She put on her best Mom Voice. It was calm, gentle but firm, with an old authority but personal respect in it. It was neither a plea nor a command, but it rang loudly enough to get his attention.

"All right, Nidhogg. Sit down. Focus on your gemstone. See if you can use your magic to... convince a part of it to fall off," she tried.

Giggle was--though she couldn't know it--using the same exact tone that Dragon had. And Nidhogg--reluctant as he'd been, at first--had come to at least vaguely respect the alligator. He'd been useful, and helped the serpent, so almost automatically Nidhogg sat down. But her voice couldn't help his magic, and after a moment he just shook his head. "It doesn't WORK," he said, plaintive and irritated, looking from her to Vargas.