His claw tapped the tiger's eye.

By the caves he wished it was still intact. But it had shattered, and he'd had to listen to its inhabitant babbling at him incessantly for hours. Mostly it had been poor attempts at conversation--and wheedling, pleading, poor jokes. Why the thing had emerged before Master Nemean, he didn't know; likely because her wounds had been more severe, and Imp's, limited to "being choked by an Overseer."

"No, I will not let you up 'to draw me' and if you ask me again I will break your talons off so you can never draw again. I am not a fool."

Imp was currently pinned beneath his free forelimb. And Vargas, for his part, was staring irritably at Nemean's tiny chrysalis--a stone he'd moved, and dutifully protected. He knew what he'd say, the moment she emerged. He'd been rehearsing it in his head for more than two weeks, now.

Crack. He waited until she was out. Until she could think. He was polite, he was patient, he was deferential, but not so far as to be cringing. No doubt she'd be upset. Perhaps ashamed. Angry. He was here to mollify her, not to annoy her further.

"Master Nemean. You look excellent, as usual. I have gifts," he explained--but only when it seemed best to do so. And first, his gem-tapping forelimb skirted to one side, drawing forth the gem that had once belonged to Aetius. "I have kept this safe for you, in case you wished it--the stone of your servant. And this creature--consider him an offering. He has been performing... questionable artistry along the walls, primarily featuring yourself. It would be admirable were it not rude and littered with--limbs." Vargas was still vaguely puzzled as to these extra body parts. Those hadn't really factored in, back in his day.

His other limb kept Imp pinned, back-down, to the rock by his throat. He thought that perhaps Nemean might want to vent; if so, he wanted a more suitable target ready for her wrath.

"I await your orders."

"I wasn't gonna RUN AWAY. Or fly away!"

He wriggled beneath Vargas's weight. At first it had been terrifying, but once he realized that the Overseer wasn't about to kill him, he found that deliberately annoying him was fun. "Anyway, you don't even need anything added, you already look ridiculous! Hahahaha. That's a joke. Don't eat me. Hey, speaking of! I'm hungry. Do you have food?" He kicked feebly, idly, at the massive arm that pinned him; it was the fourth time he'd asked, and if Vargas's incredible annoyance at the question were any indication, the Overseer was ravenous. Imp resolved to ask a few more times. His reactions were great.

Crack.

Ah, crap.

Now that was a scary sound. Nemean was waking up. Not that he was afraid of her-! He'd tried to even eat her, once. But she was going to decide his fate. Vargas had been clear on that bit. Imp spoke up at once, half-talking-over the Overseer, his words loud.

"HELLO YOUR LOVELY TERRIFYING-NESS. I LOVE TO DRAW YOU. YOU ARE VERY SPARKLY." He didn't mention the penises. That seemed unwise.

Imp had had some sort of plan, something about flattery--he knew the sprite was vain--but past that he had no idea. Oh, right. Vargas had mentioned why she was in there. Vaguely. "ASTRAEA IS VERY FAT! LET ME GO AND I'LL DRAW HIM ALL OVER, BUT FAT."

Oh yeah. His other plan had been reverse psychology. "JUST PLEASE WHATEVER YOU DO. PLEAAAASE don't banish me to Hydra!" He'd survived Hydra already, after all, and he was preeeeetty sure that whatever these two were gonna do to him was about to be awful.

Imp stared upside-down at the Overseer, who was all he could really see from this angle. To him, it was genius and subtle. But just in case, he decided to add further theatricality. "That would be TERRRRIBLE."

Imp didn't notice Vargas slowly close all six eyes, but he noticed when the Overseer clamped six fingers around his jaws to keep them shut, and only then was he silenced.

He still wriggled around, though.

It felt like embers were peeling away bits of her flesh even after she was completely engulfed by her chrysalis. A magical, amniotic fluid gurgled to life, surrounding her, reaching in to her sundered skin and muscle; it soothed and cooled the bare areas of severed nerves and exposed bone left behind by the wretched necrotic spores. As she cried and sniffed, it entered her lungs and quieted her. It was not long until she was silent, her eyes closing wearily, grasping for the last moments of vision, a blurred pink landscape...

***

Muffled voices.

Her cat-like ears twitched, listening. Who was that?

Slowly, her eyes blinked opened, droopy as they searched: she was curled in a fetal position with her arms clutched to her chest. She felt lethargic. There were shadows moving behind the pink wall that housed her, and as she came to, she could make out bits and pieces of what was being said.

Hungry. Someone was hungry. Her mind swayed, it was hard to concentrate and make out their words. There was a spark in her muscles, a need to stretch, so she placed a tiny hand on the wall of her chrysalis and dug her claws into it.

Fine. She was ready.

There was a crack and her chrysalis split open like an egg. In a sudden moment of escaping fluid, she winced at the tepid air that felt cold; her fur was flattened wet to her skin as she clawed her way up, draping herself over the edge of ridged pink crystal, her eyes squinting to see Vargas and—ugh, what was that.

Vargas mentioned she looked excellent, but she felt like she had just drowned. She exhaled, coughing up fluid for a moment before her lungs were free, taking several gulps of fresh, rancid Canis air. The Overseer waited until she was done collecting herself before speaking again. She glanced at the stone he mentioned and shrugged. Eh, maybe she'd try to make a new servant out of it.

Nemean. Yes, that's what he had called her. Her tiny claws scraped against her chrysalis as she looked up to the other creature with a hiss. It was loud. It was speaking over the Overseer.

"You," she managed, clearing her throat and propping herself up against the rugged edge of smithsonite. A grin showed off all of her pointed teeth as she gestured to nothing in particular. "You would not be worthy of Hydra," Nemean hissed. "You think," she paused, pulling herself up to sit on the stone, and before she continued, a laugh barked from her chest. "You-hu, ahah, you think we'd want you in Hydra?" A tiny hand pressed against her face and she shook her head. She didn't know what drawings or limbs the Overseer spoke of, but she was feeling right spiteful. And for this creature to speak of Astraea in such a way..!

Astraea... Eh. She probably deserved it.

Her hand pulled down to her lips, fingers tapping there for a moment as she hummed and smiled, looking like a drowned rat; finally she snapped her fingers and pointed at him.

"Wait, I remember you. You fucking mongrel," spat her voice, her brows pinching in anger. "Yeah. You. Fucking tried to eat me. What was that you were saying? You were hungry?"

If he was speaking, she was ignoring him. She stood up and brushed her fur out, letting her wings vibrate behind her, drying them too. After some time of self-care, she lazily waved a hand at Vargas.

"Let's gouge out his eyes and make him eat them," she ordered finally, looking back up to Imp with a scowl. "But don't let him die. We'll cauterize the sockets." Testing her wings in place before determining she was fit to fly, she fluttered over to the Overseer's shoulder and peered down at Imp, malicious intent oozing from every fresh new pore she had.

"Weren't you already in Hydra, anyway?" she asked, sharping her tiny claws against the rough skin of Vargas. "Haha, yeah, but do you see us making anything from you? Ahh... no, because you fucking suck." What was he even supposed to be, anyway? An infiltrator? A spy? Surely not a weapon...

She flitted and hopped down the length of the Overseer's arm, looking back to her many-eyed friend with an evil grin. "How d'you wanna do it? What sounds fun?" A bloodbath of some type, hopefully.

@Vargas

Vargas listened, only relaxing slightly when it became clear that Nemean wouldn't lash out at him. At this news that Imp had tried to eat his Master, however, he swivelled a massive, scowling head down to stare at the little beast.

It had dared...? He wondered why it wasn't dead yet; but that probably wasn't a good thing to ask. It'd only lead to bad potential answers and the last thing he wanted was to piss her off even more.

"A good lesson. He can hardly draw insulting things without eyes by which to see." Why not just kill him? Vargas wanted to ask--but he wasn't about to start second-guessing Nemean. In his mind, this was still a precarious moment.

"As you wish, though I can't cauterize, myself." A warning, given. And then, thoughtful--"Though I doubt eyes alone will bleed enough to kill him." Indifferent, thoughtful. Vargas twisted Imp's head one way, then the other, inspecting the (now-wide) eyes absently.

At Nemean's question, he paused. He wasn't sure how to answer. "Fun" rarely factored into torment; killing was one thing (he enjoyed hunting, trapping, the feel of having cornered prey) but physical torture was generally not something that he delved into. He was not, despite his predatory leanings, a sadist--he was practical, and his natural answer would have been to shrug and offer to merely pluck them out.

Unless she was trying to just scare the beast? He studied her, for a moment, but he could not tell. Best just to list all the ways, then. Let her decide.

"I can carve them out slowly, if you want. We can force him to carve them out, himself," and even that seemed too cruel, to the Overseer; ahh, inspiration. "The little shit stung me with that Hydra tail of his. I can break it and carve his eyes out with that. Or I can make an example of him in front of his--ahh," he added, shaking Imp briefly as if to indicate him. "He insists that he's a creation of Aquarian. A few of them are in Cetus claiming as much, hunting and feeding him. Apparently the reason behind all this behavior is-" Vargas turned, and let Imp's mouth open, careful to keep his sting pinned with one hind leg. "Tell her," he commanded, his voice an imperious growl. "And no nonsense."

Imp struggled, and tried to talk past the hand that held his jaws shut, but managed only muffled protests. When finally his mouth was unleashed, he paused for a moment, pondering the question.

"Huh?" he began, which--wasn't the strongest of starts. "Oh! Yeah he said you're a betrayer. YEAH I tried to eat you. But he said you betrayed everyone!" Imp insisted, eyeing her.

Oh yeah--about that. His eyes. "Also you can't take my eyes! My eyes are--I NEED those. To see!" he explained, though there was a note of shrill panic in his voice, now. He paused, and then--with mischief back in his tone--added, "Plus, they're beautiful!" He did his best to bat those eyes at Nemean, their pale green shimmering in the light, flecked with gold.

He had a bad, bad feeling they wouldn't be there for very long, though. "Anyway, what's wrong with me?! I did GOOD in Hydra. I could put life into your dead guy's stone! I'm really good at not dying, except--hey that ASSHOLE led-" Imp suddenly remembered Garnet, his body twisting, head snapping up and around as he looked for him; but Vargas' hand was clamped again around his snout.

The Overseer had apparently heard enough; he nodded to Nemean, awaiting her verdict.

Nemean listened to the creature with feigned interest, propping herself on the Overseer's arm with her hand tucked under her chin.

A tiny ear twisted to hear Vargas admit he could not cauterize wounds himself. "Aww," she drawled, upturning her face to look at him. "That's such a shame Vargas, I can't do it either..." her voice trailed as she slid her catlike eyes back to Imp. "Oooh weelll." Really, a damn shame.

This creature... stung Vargas? Nemean growled a tiny, spontaneous laugh that she tried to muffle as the Overseer began to list ways they could gouge out Imp's eyes. She nodded along, as if agreeing to all of them before he prompted Imp to speak. About Aquarian. Eugh. Wait, they FED HIM? For FREE? Her face twisted in an effort to hold back more laughter.

Imp called her a betrayer and she faked a gag. Oh, please. Aquarian got free snacks but she was the betrayer. Her eyes rolled dramatically and she waved a hand idly in the air, then made motions with it as if it were a talking mouth. Blah blah blah, blahblah blah, blah, my eyeesss. Ooh, I'm good at not dying, ooh— Nemean rolled onto her belly with her feet swinging up in the air, as if she were having loads of fun listening to him beg for his eyes and some sort of—meaning?—for his life, that he could be good in Hydra, that he could this, or that... That he were a creation of Aquarian.

Her lips split into a grin as Vargas clamped the hybrid's mouth shut.

"Mmkay, so, fiiirst of all," she said, taking a moment to clear her throat just for the sake of hearing her own dramatic pause, "I'm just good at my job, alright. Aquarian is a selfish jerk." That was Nemean's story and she was stickin' to it.

"Seeecondly, if your eyes are so pretty, then maybe I should have them?" She gripped the edge of Vargas' leg and stretched her torso forward to peek down at Imp. "Eh... they're alright. Yeah, I think I'll keep 'em." Reclining back to her perch, Nemean tapped a tiny claw on her chin and turned slightly to face Vargas. She was deep in thought for a moment but finally decided she'd like to bauble them and keep them as ornaments. "Yeah, let's go with using his tail to do it. Pluck 'em out with a pop!" She made the sound with her mouth and thumb, dissolving into a short fit of giggles before returning her glare to Imp. "But uh, I want them intact."

Her lips pursed and another sputter of laughter spit from them. She couldn't keep a straight, serious face any longer.

"I can't believe you guys," an inhale, more laughter, her paw closing in on her face. "AQUARIAN TRICKED YOU FOR FOOD, AHAHA!" She rolled onto her back and kicked her legs against Vargas' arm, one hand still folded over her face and the other clenching her belly. "You, you-aaha, you fools!"

What a riot! She couldn't want to have his eyes dangling from the doorway of her tiny den.

@Vargas

for GORE

Vargas grunted. He stared down, listening to Nemean, half-impatient--he'd been waiting here, and he wanted to be off hunting. Hunger, faint but there, gnawed at him. None of her mockery struck his funny bone, this time around--but nor was he bothered by any of it.

It was just business as usual, really. Hell, it almost felt nostalgic.

Her orders given, Vargas twisted his grip. His hind leg slammed down to pin Imp at his gut and chest; one forelimb gripped the tail before its stinger, the other, around Imp's jaws before he could spit too many curses. He managed something about Nemean being "just a stupid ugly fairy-" before the Overseer silenced him with a crushing grasp.

"Be still," Vargas growled, and its bassy rumble echoed on the rock, "if you want to keep your life. It would be easy to slip--you are so small," he added, tone dark.

There was a snap as he flicked the tail too far backward for its joints, as he curled it around under the thrashing hybrid, and Imp's scream pressed even past the muffling hand.

Vargas turned, eyeing Nemean; he moved his elbow to gently push her back, to a few inches' safe buffer distance, from where she'd been idly kicking him. Then he leaned down, and forward, six eyes narrowing intently as he focused upon his task.

Six eyes that he'd be keeping, thank you very much; and Imp--well, he was about to be down exactly two.

The Overseer's work was (he was pleased to discover) like his hunting: swift, precise, and brutal. He stared down critically at the gold-flecked green eye, an eye that rolled to glare at him in twinned defiance and fear. Judging the right angle of attack, he flicked the hybrid's broken-tailed sting downward, thrusting it into the socket beneath the eyeball, then popping it up and out quite neatly.

A flip of the beast--ignoring its again-muffled, shrill screams, and its agonized thrashing--and he did the same, again, to the other. He released Imp's broken-boned tail, then, and plucked both with ripping tears from their optic nerves, before offering them out in his palm to Nemean. "I believe these belong to you." Vargas paused, then added--"Do you think he sees your point, now?" His rigid face briefly twisted into what might have been a grin; and then he thrust his hand down, gripping the writhing, struggling, eyeless hybrid by the throat, lifting him into the air.

"LISTEN now. If anyone asks you what has happened, you tell them you disrespected Master Nemean. You will tell them that this is what happens when you plot little rebellions against this Cave's masters! You will tell them that this was your just punishment, and that Master Nemean was more than merciful to let you away with your life. Perhaps I will send spies to ask you what has happened to your eyes, little fiend, and if you do not give this answer, I will tear out your claws and teeth, as well--if I do not simply eat you."A pause, a growl, and then--in a deadly-quiet voice, and with a tightening of his grip, he asked--"Do you understand?"

FOR GORE

Imp did, indeed, shout--a lot--as Vargas struggled to snap his jaw shut.

"Wh--FUCK YOU. YOU'RE BOTH UGLY! YOU'RE JUST A STUPID UGLY FAIRY-" and small, he was about to say, when Vargas' hand clamped down around his jaws.

He thrashed, his ridged gator tail trying to flip him, but then Vargas had it and was twisting it, and the agony Imp had never known--the sharp-ache pain of snapping bones, and the feel of them grinding as the Overseer contorted him--he screamed, blind with pain (and the irony would be forever lost on him), twisting madly in Vargas' grasp. His magicka threatened to spill over with rage and pain, fuelled by adrenaline, as his own feet struggled to get a grip--any grip--on Vargas, to kick and shove and burn him off--but in his panic, nothing came, and his blunt claws scratched uselessly over Vargas' thick hide, barely threatening to even break the skin--

The weight on him was too great. It felt as though he were being crushed, unable to breathe, the pain of his tail still twisting, and then his eyelid being pried open and oh no oh no oh shit oh no he's actually gonna do it his own stinger there, visible, past the leering monster-mask of Vargas' face-

The pain was keen, so sharp and overpowering that Imp nearly lost consciousness. His view was skewed--his eye was cold, and it felt like a thousand hairs were in it, and it seemed that his viewpoint was flopping loosely around. Then he was flipped over, and he saw both the ground, at a terrible angle, and again Vargas prying open his eye, and he realized that he was still screaming against his clawed grip. Imp thrashed and twisted, but the pain bloomed in his right eye, too, and then Vargas was turning, gripping, slashing, and Imp's bobbing chaotic vision vanished--

--and he saw nothing at all--

...Vargas was speaking. Past his panic, the rush of blood, the race of his heart, Imp felt the pain. He felt the loss, the furious anger, and he didn't care if they killed him. He was angrier than he had ever been, and when Vargas released his jaws, he screamed. And in between screams, in between ragged gasps of breath, he swore, and threatened, and cursed.

"FUCK YOU OVERSIZED--BLIND MASS OF DUMBASS SPIKES--YOU'RE JUST TANGLED IDIOT--AND SHE'S A DUMB TINY JERK AND NOOOOBODY LIKES HER SHE'S--A MEAN TERRIBLE THING AND I HOPE SOMEONE EATS HER-"

His jaw was snapped shut, again, past his gasping and crying and writhing, as Vargas looked to Nemean in darkly-amused silence. Imp was left struggling with muffled cries, his own blood streaking twin tear-tracks down his face.

She waited patiently as Vargas did the deed and clapped excitedly as one eye popped free, and then the next; she fluttered into the air and scooped the eyes from the Overseer's palm carefully, holding them up with some effort. They were nearly too big for her to hold, but she made do. A chattering of laughter bubbled from her throat at his lame but silly joke.

A quick flash of her magic and the eyes began to glimmer and glow.

"Ah, my new favorite baubled items," she said with amusement, twirling them around her neck by the ends of their stringy nerves like a shitty scarf. Nemean held one in each paw as if she were fluffing her hair. "I love them Vargas, thank you so much," cooed her voice.

Her genuine appreciation was a rare gift.

As Vargas told Imp what the heck was up, Nemean twirled gently in place and caressed the eyes, showing them off to nobody in particular; it was for her own amusement.

Despite the things Vargas threatened Imp with, the little termite spat back with more mean words.

"Ugh," she sneered, turning away from his bloody eyeholes and foul mouth. But truthfully, it hurt her to hear that nobody liked her. That wasn't true...! People liked her! The self-doubt was already eating away at her though and she made a grumpy frown.

"Just toss him. Let's go hang these in my den," she said carelessly, bouncing the eyes in her paws as she settled back onto Vargas' head. Bye, stupid ugly creature. Hello, fancy new glowing doorway eyes.

Vargas' rigid face twisted further into a grin at the praise. Her anger was safely around the curve, then, left easily behind. There were things the Overseer took for granted--like the fact that a Master's thanks might be followed days later by terrible punishments--but that was just part and parcel of the job.

Of the... existence, really.

He took the good where it came, and as far as Nemean went, he enjoyed her company, and her humor, when he wasn't debating how the hell something so tiny had survived so long.

At her order, he turned and lobbed Imp carelessly away by his snout, careful about the tail. Even broken, it held nasty venom, things he didn't want to deal with again. That had been embarrassing.

He turned away before even hearing the thud of the hybrid's impact, though he did half-turn, as he stalked off after his Master, to ensure that Imp would not attack her from behind.

The pathetic way the wretched creature was scrabbling blindly on the stone, however, made it clear it was no threat. Vargas almost felt bad for it.

Almost.

exit Vargas