The others filtered in after Garnet-Delta, but it had no mind for anything but Master Vargas and his test subjects. Subject Two refused to answer its master's questions, and Delta's claws clicked softly upon the stone. That would not do.

But Delta did not interrupt. It waited, poised and loyal at the side lines, as Vargas eyed up the blind child he could so easily snap in half. It watched as Vargas answered with surprising patience, and kindness-- the humanoid creatures were offered safety, food and water, whatever else they would need.

Vargas declared that none would hurt the child or the adult, and Delta felt disappointment sink through its chest. Only for a moment, and then it was gone. It would protect the experiments, then, and equally make sure that they did not find ways to harm themselves. At least while it was watching. Its tail twitched as its thoughts delved into what it would do.

Its Master's voice rose into a roar, one that demanded full attention and swept free every errant thought in the young hybrid's mind. Its eyes stared at the glowing green pits that bore into the tiny gathered crowd, fighting to keep its fur flat even as the sudden volume startled it.

You have been good.
I am proud of you.

Garnet-Delta blinked, and sat a bit taller as Vargas addressed it first; an honor. One that clutched its chest tight and did not let go as it kept perfectly still. It would be a weapon, and these simple, small, daunting words filled it with such a keen lust that it felt in every inch of its veins. It wanted nothing, NOTHING! more.

Next, Ruby-Beta. Bloodstone (Delta did not know this one). Hemlocke. The rest of the Sentinels.

Overseer Orthoclase-Alpha. The words filled Delta's tongue with ash, listening with rapt jealousy. Since birth it had longed to become an Overseer, and since birth, it knew it would not be one. An Overseer was big, hulking, dominating. Overseer was not a role that Garnet-Delta would ever fill, and time and time again it was reminded.

It would be a weapon. A tool. It would be efficient, and perfect, and even then it would not become--...

Wait. Garnet-Delta's ears pricked, pulling itself from its pity party to focus on what Master Vargas was saying. Overseer Orthoclase-Alpha had been hurt by its Master, by their Master, because it had seen the Hand of the Creator. Its emotions were wiped clean under the fresh depth that it and its fellow Sentinels were suddenly being made aware of. The Caves themselves were in danger of being purged.

Garnet-Delta held no such attachments to the weaker beasts of the caves, and it expected the others to feel much the same. There was the safety of itself (did it actually care about its own safety?) and proving itself to Master Vargas, certainly. Protecting its master, absolutely. Protecting its fellow Sentinels? Important, at least, regardless of it if particularly cared for them.

Graver still, with Vargas as a new Master, and the other Masters as failures (this alone was jarring-- it had never met another Master, but it had been raised to respect them-- if they were fallible, then...), it was their task and their task alone to do everything to ensure that Master Vargas would succeed at the impossible.

As Master Vargas went on to tell them to follow Overseer Orthoclase-Alpha's command, it ignored the niggling thought that the lumbering beast wasn't that clever, and instead paid more mind to productive thoughts. Its master had been looking for answers, and the child had refused them.

Garnet-Delta thought itself clever. Garnet-Delta thought itself powerful enough to simply take what it wanted, to simply choke the answers out of the child, to help it's master. With a deep breath, and a low growl in its throat, it reached for Two's mind.

The magic-- its magic-- kicked back at it, and there was a hiss it bit down on, lowering its head as the feedback wrenched through its own brain. Master Vargas asked if there were any questions, and all it could do was slowly lower its head and stay strong against the urge to tremble.

Two would receive the thoughts that ground through the Garnet-Delta's mind in that moment: Stay strong, the feline pleaded with itself. Don't show weakness. It's alright. As it struggled, it sank its claws into the stone, the sensation of nail on sandstone jolting up its nerves. As it's mind swam from the sudden jarring, it converged on a question.

It was a question it shouldn't have thought of, and one it wouldn't ask. But if you fail, the "Master Vargas" was implied, don't you deserve death? Don't we all deserve death, if we aren't good enough? Garnet-Delta closed its eyes tight, crouching down into a low, hunched posture on the edge of the ledge.

so, like, only the last paragraph or so of this is relevant to other dudes
contains one (1) f-bomb and yet more sadness :')
The orthoclase's head swung down slowly, dully staring at Doctor as he approached - asking for an assessment of its being. Its face throbbed and stung, still, with the roughage woven through it in a suture and magic idly working to repair the gouge. Its gut churned and stirred with a deep-seated worry, grieving as-yet incomplete and its own clearly-defined loneliness. Alpha was fucking stupid if it thought that it could have any attachment, however subconscious, to its master. He was not its father. He was not its life-giver. He was simply its creator and its command.

"No," it responded simply, and went back to watching.

Faith (and spirit, if briefly) broken, it was still his servant and his Overseer. It deserved the marks on its face. It'd made a mistake and had been punished for it accordingly to avoid further deconstruction; it didn't have any right to the simmering cauldron of anxiety, sadness, and fury. No right to feel as angry as it did when he spoke and addressed the rest of his creatures.

Vargas spoke in that booming voice of his, projecting no savagery - but Alpha's addled conscious supplied what was missing. Quills pricked, and even though it turned to politely face him while being addressed, it stared straight through where it imagined his heart was. Unwilling to meet eyes. Weaker beasts reminded if of the fruit-giver, of a bird adorned in monochromatic feathers, of a traitorous white stag, of a three-headed white dog. All chance encounters. All in the unique few that did not end in frustration and fury, claws tearing through flesh and teeth seeking the jugular. All those interactions that granted it those few good, untarnished memories it kept to itself as guilty pleasures.

It was pissed. Trapped in its own skin and raging raging raging. Furious and upset that it had to linger. In the heat of the moment, it was spiteful and hateful. Perhaps, more so than ever. It was better than feeling sad and mournful, better than lying with your belly to the floor and weeping senselessly. Better to feel hollowly angry than feel weak.

Spoken to directly, humans in either hand, the orthoclase felt exhaustion settle in again. Another burnout, spinning rubber and grinding it into the asphalt. Those flare-ups of anger were fleeting, and gradually growing further apart. The fire would go out eventually. It was a matter of keeping itself from throwing gasoline on it.

The Overseer waited for questions to be asked, then to be answered before shallowly barking orders to Hemlocke, "put yours on patrol. Alternate two down the tunnel at a time, and call for anything that can't be dealt with by the four of you." Glancing down at Bloodstone, it added, "take this one with you, but don't send it alone." It looked at Beta, then, teeth gnashing harshly. "You, stay here and guard." Any threats coming this way would have to deal with the two of them. Alpha didn't have much faith in the smaller Vargas-spawn's fighting abilities, but maybe it had made up for the many cycles it slept.

Two monsters were worse than one.

They were all settled in, and Hemlocke stared into the magnified-bright alcove. Ruby-red eyes fixed on the two bipeds, watching as the one stumbled back into place and as Vargas's claws gripped both - pushing them into better view. The other was... small. Was that being hunched-over, or was it just that young? A creature from outside of the caves, wearing a crown of gem and still growing. The odd alien had no attachment to not-yet-grown beasts like others might - it'd missed out on its chance with its own spawn - but the sheer oddity of such a creature...

Hairless, tailless - how did they manage to stay on their own two feet? Evolution at its finest, and the alien honest-to-God could not grasp it. But, that was none of its business; only serving its Master and ensuring that their Lord (had it heard such a thing before?) was... pleased. What had been done to the fresh Overseer didn't scratch the surface of what might happen in the event of failure.

It preened instinctively at the praise - as was customary - but the gravity of it all weighed heavy. Heavy enough that it was rendered speechless and took the orthoclase's orders in stride. Bumping into Delta's shoulder on its rise, Hemlocke chirped, "yes, Overseer Orthoclase-Alpha, sir." Cumbersome title. Ruby-red eyes flitted to Vargas, and it bowed deeply, "Master Vargas, sir."

Satellite dish ears whirling around and finally letting go of its magic, the odd alien shook itself out. Chirping again to the scouts (and Bloodstone) it glided away from the alcove, "Garnet-Delta, start your patrol towards Hydra. I'll go towards Canis. We'll each take two laps end-to-end and switch shifts..." Its voice faded as it went away, to the altar-like exit of the tunnel.

exit?
@Garnet-Delta @Garnet-Epsilon @Selenite-Gamma @Bloodstone

Did... did they hear that right? Did Vargas- they were dreaming, they had to be!

A truly stupid grin spread across Inferno's face as his throat frills puffed out, and they sat up straighter, each head preening from the praise.

They looked up as Alpha spoke of them and looked to Hemlock, ready to do what was commanded of them. Condemn glanced back at the two beings. One distinctly... grotesque. No hair, scales, standing upright with only a fluff of greasy something on their head. Inferno and Char scrunched their noses but let Condemn observe by herself. At least the other one had fur. This one made their scales itch.

Bloodstone stood and trotted after Hemlock, wings spreading as they ran after Hemlock, now starting to realize that perhaps learning to fly would be a good idea. They flapped feebly as they ran, a bit disgruntled at themselves.

Condemn's eyes remained on the hairless one, her yellow eyes dimming for a moment.

Pity.

Exit Bloodstone after Hemlock(?)

subject two.
lonely little love dog that no one knows the name of
i know why you cry out, desperate and devout

The mean monster had a lot to say. He wanted to ask her about the surface, and the things she liked and didn't like, and all of that was okay because he was Master Vargas and therefore not a stranger to her. Two cocked her head lightly and narrowed her eyes. She wasn't sure how that meant he wasn't a stranger...? He was definitely a stranger. He said she could ask the bird—Doctor—for stuff she wanted, if she wanted anything.

But all she had to do was answer his questions, and she'd be okay? Hmph. He leaned in then and warned her he'd be loud, and her nose crinkled at the foulness of his breath. At first, she was stubborn, and as he turned to speak, she stuck her tongue out at him. However, when his voice exploded into the cave, her hands immediately moved to cover her ears and her lips raised to show her tiny baby fangs. What an awful sound. She felt it all the way through to her bones.

There was a lot he talked about, and most of it was lost on her. At some point, there was a tickle in her mind and her head turned toward something, someone: Delta. She didn't know who this was or why her blind eyes glazed right by them, but it was like she was hearing their thoughts: stay strong. There was a brief pain and then more thoughts, about being a failure and dying if they were a failure. She frowned.

It was around this time that the big monster finally stopped talking, and asked if there were any questions. There didn't seem to be. As she listened, it just sounded like the other creatures were leaving to go about their duties, assigning tasks and shuffling out.

She stood up then, careful, with her hand against the wall to support her as her nose sniffed and her ears turned, searching, listening, until she thought she might have pin-pointed where the thoughts from earlier came from. She was not looking at the creature, but past it; she could not imagine its shape or body, and could only vaguely assume where it was, or had been.

"That's not true," she said aloud, unsure how to respond with thoughts, and now questioning if she had heard that stuff in her head at all. The irony here was that she had sisters before her that indeed, were failures, and were killed for being failures. But she didn't know that, and she likely never would. "There's no such thing as not good enough," she continued, her sightless eyes shifting slowly back to where the big monster was. "You just gotta get better, and that's okay. It's okay to grow." Her free hand balled into a tiny fist. "And if that mean lady wants to hurt you 'cause of that, that's stupid," Two growled, her lips pulling back again to display her tiny little fangs. "You just have to show that mean lady there's always room for growth."

She sucked in a breath, her other hand leaving the wall and balling into a fist too.

"And that mean lady hurt my dad! So if doing this means she'll come back, then fine!! I'LL DO IT! I'll play stupid monster with you!!!" she yelled, the force of her voice causing her body to lean forward slightly. Her eyes squeezed shut, tears welling at their edges, but she wiped them away with the back of her fist and sniffled. "'Cause..." her voice broke for another sniffle and she brought her hands up to her face, crouching and burying her tears into her palms. "'Cause I gotta go home." A whine, partway between dog and human, tightened her throat. "Dad..." she cried softly, continuously wiping tears that wet her fluffy cheeks until a tiny whisper broke through: "I'm scared."

Delta's wavy voice echoed in her head: stay strong.

A big sniffle, an aggressive final wipe of tears, and then she stood back up as her eyes sought out Vargas again. "It's my turn. Let Beatrice rest." Stay strong. "I'll answer your questions." Stay strong, and stay out of the burn pile. "What do you want to know?" About the surface? About things she liked? She was feeling stubborn, so he'd have to ask again.

@Vargas

Most of them listened--obeyed; one or two spoke. That tension--the knowledge of their fate, of the Lord looking over their work--remained, keeping him wire-taut. Keeping him sharp.

When the child stepped forward, when she began to speak, he was at first nonplussed. What's not true-? he thought, and if she had not continued, his rage might have overcome his surprise. Not... a real rage; but that indignant authoritarian surge of "how dare this mere halfbreed mongrel child contradict me." But, apparently, Subject Two had settled on some sort of motivational speech, and Vargas, baffled into brief silence, even glanced at Beatris as if wondering if this had somehow been her doing.

Vargas was not even certain who the child was speaking to, but her "you just have to show that mean lady there's always room for growth" was certainly accurate. But before he could comment, the girl was screeching, and his rigid lips partway peeled back from point-hook teeth with a grimace.

What is 'playing stupid monster?' he wondered, baffled, and now she was--crying?

'Cause... 'Cause I gotta go home. Dad... I'm scared.

This was... rather outside the Master's scope of experience. Usually, by the time things were simpering and begging, they were dead, or about to be; and he turned, for a moment, staring blankly at his servants, as if hoping one of them knew how the hell to handle this one. Her crying was wretched, weak torn from family, but surely she was not the first-? what of the others---Vargas shook his head sharply.

Blind eyes sought him out, and he grunted as she spoke.

"The child is right in that we must show our Lord that there is room for growth. This nest is a wreck, it is a DISGRACE," he added, turning toward the rest as he said this, "and that is not our fault but it is now our responsibility."

But the whole 'we have one chance to do this right' speech had already been made, and Vargas gave a nod toward the others before looking back to Two.

She'd wiped her tears, and her final words were strong. Vargas was...

...relieved.

"Good," he told her, gruffly--praise for strength--and dropped to his haunches, staring down at her. "Then tell me of the surface. Tell me what you like, and what you dislike. What are your strengths? Your weaknesses?"

I must know you--both of you--before I begin my work. Before I kill you both, he thought.

@Garnet-Delta @Orthoclase-Alpha @Ruby-Beta @Bloodstone @One @Hemlocke @Two
(for visibility too for the exits?)

Garnet-Delta's mouth was bone dry as it struggled to swallow its own breaths and hold still. Orthoclase-Alpha-- Overseer-- barked orders to its Handler, its Commander, Hemlocke, its stone-giver. And in turn, its hatchmate was giving it commands as well. Its ears pricked forward, straining to focus on the sound through the heady pulsing of its blood in its skull.

Thankfully, if it missed any details from the behemoth's grunting, Hemlocke's chirps were crisp and clear. Patrol toward Hydra. Shoving itself upright, it stepped to the edge of the shelf it was crouched on a moment before and spread its wings.

"That's not true," the child spoke, blind eyes staring out at Garnet-Delta. The feline froze, spine arching and fur prickling. What? "There's no such thing as not good enough," she said, turning her head back toward Master Vargas. Garnet-Delta's heart was pounding fast enough to turn its brain to mush, but it-- it needed to get out. Now.

The child's words called after her, raising to a shout as Garnet-Delta took flight and scrambled off toward Hydra, its tail puffed out and lashing in a desperate attempt to keep balance as it full on pelted away from the scene. It had a job to do, it couldn't-- it could not be here.

Garnet-Delta over-corrected immediately, sweeping hard into the side wall of the tunnel. Its claws scrambled against stone as it wings beat into the stone. Fur tore free from flesh, scrapes drawing wicked lines across its side. It slipped, falling forward into the dirt, but in the next second it was airborne again, racing furiously off toward Hydra with all the grace of a cat seeing a goddamn cucumber.

;; delta exits "gracefully"

When Master Vargas turned to it and commented on its previously missing status, it bowed its head. But from the tone and from the atmosphere, it figured that now would not, perhaps, be the time to explain. It could do all of that later. So, instead, it offered a simple, "My apologies, Master Vargas. I will strive to do better." Still, Vargas's promise that it had potential had its hope sparking. It just had to impress and follow orders and it would be fine.

At Alpha's command, Beta gave a nod. No reason to fight just because it was Alpha in charge - it was gonna stay here anyways. So, without further ado, it plopped to the ground, exactly where it was standing, though not lounging back, however much it wanted to. Sitting up, alert, watching down the tunnel for any intruders.

*exit, I guess? unless someone interacts further

subject two.
lonely little love dog that no one knows the name of
i know why you cry out, desperate and devout

It sounded like the others had left, and maybe like one of them had gotten hurt. She frowned, and hoped it was okay. Another small sniffle. Vargas wanted to know about the... surface? What was that? "The outside?" she asked, but he continued to speak, and she pursed her lips in thought.

Her likes and dislikes?

"I like my dad," she said first, "and I like the way he smells. I do like the outside, where there's wind and more smells, and the fresh mountain air! I don't know what mountains are, but dad said they were big spiky rocks that reach hiiiigh into the sky!" She demonstrated this by stretching her arms up as far as they could go, wiggling her fingers. Talking about Tamulus made her feel way more comfortable, as if speaking about him might summon him here and he'd take her home.

"I don't like this place," she said with a frown, and her nose crinkled too. "It stinks, a lot. You all stink, it's so weird." Her arms crossed over her chest. "I like when it's hot outside, and we go swimming in the water. Ummm, I like when it's cold too. Sometimes if we went up the mountain a little, there was snow, and while daddy did work up there, I liked to lay in the snow and sleep." She reached up and tapped her chin in thought. "Umm, I don't like the squishy food dad makes me eat, he calls it broklee, it's pretty gross." Her lip lifted at the thought.

And what were her strengths and weaknesses?

"Ummm... I don't know..." she answered honestly. She wasn't particularly strong. And was she weak!? Pah. "Well, I can't see," she decided to say with a cheeky grin. Duuuh.

@Vargas

The way he smells-?

"What does he smell like?" Vargas blurted, curiosity briefly getting the better of him. It was knowledge that was very, very unlikely to be useful, but still...

Mountains. He tried to picture it. Mostly, he failed. He imagined gray and stony spires, not broad snow-capped peaks.

You all stink. He snorted softly, but otherwise said nothing, not even to ask--despite curiosity--what they smelled like, to her. He took notes, though.

Smell was important to her, and apparently, to her memories--but then, she was blind, wasn't she? He made a note to remember how that might affect her thoughts and opinions. She did not like 'broklee.' That would be important to impart into the new creation, then. She enjoyed the cold--sleeping in the snow. Though, he noted, that might also be a product of her fur, which Beatris did not have...

And, she noted, she was blind. Vargas snorted again, and settled in, preparing a new round of questions in his mind. "Very good; very clear answers. Now, tell me more about this 'broklee'..."

exit Vargas