Elyon had picked up the habit of pacing again.

Her claws picked idly at the scarred-over joint of her right elbow, chancing puncturing and feeling the sensation of it open to the air and heal again. Grinding her beak, the centaur tossed her head, hooves clattering on the floor. She was hesitating at the middle of Tunnel K's length, deeply shrouded in mist - she should not be able to know where she was, exactly, but a sensation sat heavy in her two guts. Elyon wanted to throw up, knowing that home was a short gallop away.

All it would take was to push through the cave, the mist, the forsaken path.

Click! click! click! went her steps, again, moving from one side of the tunnel to the other, squatting a little as she approached the wall and standing rigidly straight again as she left. Elyon didn't know where else to go, what direction to take. The invisible weight of that accursed object still sat heavy in her hands. Wringing her hands together and shaking them at the wrist, the hybrid sighed. Twisting slightly and reaching behind herself, Elyon drew her spear and shield.

That was better. Familiar. Comfortable. Free of dark magics.

Rearing up onto her hind legs for a moment, she swung the polearm, its honed axe-blade glancing across the wall of the cave and sending a shower of sparks through the mist.

@Vargas

Vargas was returning. He was lost in thought, as he so often was, in his future plans.

Hybridize cat with scout. Cat with combat-oriented, large--self? Winter trial preparation. Check-in with Nemean.

He'd already heard a roar, echoing through the cave. Nemean hadn't called for him, but he felt it best to wait in Canis in case she came for him. He had a suspicion about the hot wind that had rushed through the tunnels, the bellowing that had shaken the rock, and he wanted no part of that whatsoever. If it was what he thought it was, best to keep his head down until they called for him.

Meanwhile, he had a job to do, and he wasn't about to-

Vargas stopped. Vargas blinked.

What... is that?

He slipped forward, breath caught in his throat, his attention sharpened to a knife-point.

She was huge--far larger than many of the others he'd seen around--and bore nothing of the small, soft appearance of the modern creations. She seemed, in fact, distinctly similar to Master Jupiter in some ways, but harder, tougher. She bore the same shape, and she carried something--weapons? But he could not see much more than that through the mist, no true details.

Quietly, he stalked closer.

"Who and what are you?" he asked, blunt but not particularly demanding. Perhaps she was another Overseer, one he'd never met.

Perhaps she was something even higher-ranking. Whatever she was, she seemed (he thought, looking her over again now that he was closer) distinctly useful.

@Elyon

Elyon swung once or twice more, the staff flush with her left elbow and lighting up the tunnel, if briefly, with more sparks. Crimson eyes lit up in it, the rhythmic weapons practice doing wonders for the anxiety. It was the monotony of it.

A voice, deep and booming - echoing from nearly beside her - had the centaur rounding on the spot. She tossed the spear slightly forward, catching its handle before it even came within range of the massive beast's body. A hasty warning to not approach so silently and suddenly. Elyon held her shield closer to herself, turning slightly.

"Don't - come up on me like that!" The centaur chirped shrilly, feathers all puffy and frightened, before finally answering, "I'm Elyon. What about you, big guy? What's your story?"

@Vargas

Vargas stopped cold, his head jerking back and his body going from easy, predatory slinking to frozen-tense. He stared for a beat at the spear, and when Elyon withdrew it, he relaxed, some.

He had not seen proper weapons in quite some time. He admired tool use, in a sense--he'd even toyed with the idea of modular creations, ones with limbs that could bear different weapons depending on the situation. He himself bore his own weaponry, but it wasn't as adaptable as some--he could not, for example, reach opponents in the sky the way that a bow and arrow could. Such modular design, however, would still need to incorporate natural weaponry, or risk the combatant being defenseless should they lose their tools...

Vargas blinked six eyes.

Well, Elyon didn't have a designation nor, apparently, a title. Close-up, he could still see no sign of the soft creatures of the modern caves on her. She looked, quite distinctly, like-... She looked familiar.

"I did not mean to startle!" he boomed, and then burst out laughing. It did not last long, and when its questionable echo faded, he peered more closely at her. "I am Overseer Vargas. Do you have an assigned task?" he asked, curiously.

...Wait.

His eyes narrowed, all six of them, as recognition turned into memory. She was a different color; she lacked the noble pose, the pure color, the thick beard, but--the build was much the same. Was it--could it be?

"ORTHOCLASE?!" the Overseer boomed--abrupt, and surprised, and very likely seeming completely out of the blue.

@Elyon

The bottom of the spear tapped against the stone, warily kept at Elyon's side. If she had actual knuckles, they would've been clenched until they were white. "I dunno how you're sneakin' around like that - you're… really big. Too big to be that quiet," she yammered the obvious, gesturing with a shield.

She'd just been about to answer that she had no task other than to just live her best life, when Vargas boomed again, calling out belated some sharp-sounding word. Her gemstone buzzed, feeding her recognition subconsciously. Still squared off, Elyon tucked her spear beneath her armpit and scratched at the base of her stone, beneath her chin. "Uhh, this? That's it, I guess — I don't do anythin'. Nothing - uh, regularly, anyways."

@Vargas

The Orthoclase... Vargas struggled to remember, six eyes again squinting. He thought it had been a noble beast, a creature that had held its pride despite the treatment often inflicted on the creations. One that had seemed almost regal--kingly. It had done well: strong, swift, and most of all tough, though he thought he remembered a bad end. Trying to help others, wasn't it-? Deemed poor at judging his own abilities. Charged into too much. Took too much responsibility. That, he reflected, and terrible heat regulation.

Or was Vargas thinking of Jadeite Four-Two-Six-... He MIGHT have been the one taken to serve Master-...

The thought trailed off as he squinted, trying to remember. There'd been a few designs along Orthoclase's lines. But all of them--size-wise, and with the exoskeleton--had been strong, and tough, and he was curious as to how Elyon would hold up.

"I remember others of your design. Possibly one of your ancestors," he added, paying no heed whatsoever (quite rudely, really, all things considered) to Elyon's first statement. He seemed excited, though, as he drew a little closer, eyeing her up and down.

"Will you fight me? Do not hold back. I wish to see what you can do!" He said it with enthusiasm. "If you are anything like those I remember, I may have a use for you other than 'nothing,' if you wish it!"

@Elyon

Elyon had no choice but to stare dumbly as Vargas mused aloud something about designs and ancestors. She, somehow, had missed the memo on old creatures awakening once more to partake in trials and continue on with the great machine that was — whatever the old days had. To be fair to her, they weren't too notorious quite yet. The way Vargas seemed to look her up and down, inspecting with eagerness, made the centaur think of a particular figure in black.

She didn't like it.

Alas, this Overseer was offering something she hadn't been in ages: a fight. A good walloping. A sound spar. No holds barred — except for death and maiming, Elyon hoped (even though she could just utilize her chrysalis to regrow lost limbs and sloshy, copper-heavy blood.) Gripping her spear a little less tightly, visibly relaxing, the hybrid immediately squared off and began to pace sideways.

"You suggestin' a spar? We can do one-a those, yeah," Elyon chirruped, eyes glinting eagerly in the dim, misty light.

The centaur broke into a front-heavy gallop, bowing low. Her shield was clutched to her right side, protecting her as she ran clockwise around the purple behemoth. Rounding Vargas's back, Elyon made the first move: a broad swing at his right kneecap with the blunt side of her spear's head. Y'know, like taking a hammer to the patella for a reflex check, but a little worse.

Round: 1/?
Attempt: Swing blunt side of spear at Vargas's knee
Defense: Shield on right side
Injuries: n/a

@Vargas

Vargas was not, in fact, about to stand completely still while the centaur ran entirely around to his back.

That would be insane. Vargas was... usually not... considered to be...

Anyway, he turned, as she ran, shuffling tensed and ready (and grinning eagerly), and when she swung her spear, he attempted to just... leap back, raising a forearm to take the brunt of the strike in a far more glancing manner. He wasn't sure if she might get her weapon stuck between his arm spines; he wasn't aiming for that, in any case, simply deflecting the bulk of the hit.

He could have, perhaps, wholly dodged... but he wanted to see her strength.

The blow stung. It stung.

"Good--you are strong!" he declared, with approval. Perhaps she could be of some use to them.

Round: 1/?
Attempt: Take the hit with a forelimb
Defense:
Injuries: none

@Elyon

As the spear made contact with a raised arm, Elyon wasted no time slowing down and trying to continue the motion. She simply withdrew the polearm and continued on her run, gloating, "I'm hopin' so!" The centaur pressed with the same strategy she had before, running around Vargas - now changing directions every once in a while. Not that she could escape the notice of six piercing eyes.

Ah, it was the feinting. The unpredictability.

The Overseer was persistently making sure to remain face-to-face. Elyon didn't think she could make the proper hit at the knees she wanted to — she'd have to look elsewhere.

On one lap, the centaur drove her shield into the earth, the hardened and reinforced alloy at the bottom driving itself into a sturdy position. Elyon took the spear into both hands for another lap and then aimed a mighty swing at Vargas's arms. The behemoth seemed just as front-heavy as herself.

Round: 2/?
Attempt: Sweep at Vargas's arms
Defense: n/a
Injuries: n/a

@Vargas

Vargas spun, this way and that, still letting Elyon take the offensive. It wasn't that he was letting her keep the upper hand, exactly; he just wanted to see how she fought before leaving himself open to attack.

She used her weaponry--but he wasn't sure how experienced she was with it. Feinting, leaping back and forth--he stood stoic, knowing it took far less energy simply to pivot and face her, wondering if she would wear herself down.

But--ah! There it was, a strike, and Vargas flinched as the hit struck across his forelimbs. He had enough weight on his hind legs that he didn't entirely faceplant, at least, but he stumbled heavily forward, with a grunt.

He took swift advantage of their sudden, closer proximity, catching himself and lashing out with one hand, trying to grab Elyon's spear and yank it. He wasn't sure if he could wrest it from her grasp entirely, but his intention was to do so. He didn't have the leverage he might have, though, because he was careful to keep its tip pointed away.

Round: 2/?
Attempt: Grab the spear
Defense:
Injuries: Bruisin' arms!

@Elyon