- THE LEVIATHAN -

He launched right into it, watching Nidhogg carefully. He watched for any sign of interest, any additional spark that might show that something, anything, that he said had caught its attention in any way.

"You must learn, first, to move unseen. And to see others, to observe them, without being seen, That can mean disguising yourself as Lessers, or hiding among the shadows, slowing your own heart so that it is difficult to spot--any of that. One might use magic, or a toxic bite, or anything like that, to catch and to kill--do you understand me so far?"

...Nothing, yet.

Vargas studied him, and continued.

"In some cases you must find a specific target. Follow them. Learn them, their habits, their defenses and their strengths, weaknesses--and devise a plan on how to take them out. In others you may simply spot a target of opportunity, and in these cases you must already be well-trained against eventualities. What to do if it attacks first. If it is powerful, in its magic. Then, you must already have an escape planned--are you listening, V-Chaos-One?" A hiss, half-escaping, a hatred of the name. Vargas half-sighed, half-growled. "I can teach you these things, given time. It was suggested," he went on--without quite explaining by whom, or why--"that you may be useful as a... bloodhound, of sorts. We give you a target, and you find and drag them back here, or destroy them. You are fast, and agile; you can climb well, and hide well, with the magic for it. i can teach you to hide yourself properly, and to track."

He paused again, waiting, staring at Nidhogg, awaiting any response.

Nidhogg coiled back even farther, so that its head was above its hips, now, jaws parting and eyes narrowing in another hiss. "I can already kill," it snarled, despite having literally never done that.

Chaotic magic again lashed out, and though it hadn't been an intentional threat--just anger--what followed could easily have been misconstrued as such. The air closed in around Vargas, a threat, a pressure that squeezed--and it squeezed Nidhogg, too, the little serpent clueless as to what he was doing. It became hard to breathe, and Vargas' look of shock was unmistakeable.

Nidhogg hesitated, his own eyes widening. "What is-" he gasped, and then was throwing himself back, writhing on the floor as he struggled to escape his own lashing magic.

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Briefly, he assumed that Nidhogg had suddenly become a master of magic, unbeknownst to anyone, and was trying to (foolishly) kill him. Certainly, the sudden pressure on his lungs was instantly panic-inducing--he could not breathe--but then the secondary suspicion rapidly rose, bubbling up like air in a boiling pot. An assassin-? Vargas' head snapped around, on instant high alert, but he sensed nothing--saw, smelled, heard, nothing out of the ordinary. He struggled, briefly, to sense the source of the magic but nothing came of it; then Nidhogg was rolling, writhing, thrashing.

Fighting to breathe.

They both were.

Reflexively, Vargas shoved up and lashed out, grabbing the fool child and hauling him from the dispersed pocket of air. As he sucked in a great, relieving lungful of air, he reflected that he should've left it there to learn the consequences of its actions--but no, it hadn't been deliberate, and he wasn't even sure, yet, that Nidhogg itself had done it.

Then Nidhogg was gasping, coming upright, and--hanging its head in fearful guilt. Ahh.
Vargas leaned down, very close to its face, ensuring that his fresh new breath was breathed back out, hot and stale, directly in Nidhogg's face. "Do not. Do that again," he told it, very softly indeed.

A pause, a narrowing of his eyes, as he sat back upright. "We will begin by teaching you to hide yourself. Soon. When I next come to you, you will be prepared for that lesson: do you understand?" Vargas' voice was deliberately flat, neutral--let it fear what it would, his patience was at an end.

It had feared violent retaliation. When all it got, then, was a quiet, stern few words (and bad breath on the tail end of it), Nidhogg cowered back. Oh, how it hated to do so--but true fear left it little alternative, and it shrank away as Vargas spoke.

As Vargas waited.

"I'll kill-..." it started, but that threat was unwise--"Yes," it managed, at last. Bitter hatred welled up in it again, but muted this time.

Perhaps it would come to terms with the idea of Vargas training it, given time. It had no real desire, even, aside from a ferocious bridling at Vargas' attempts at control; it wanted only to do whatever it wanted at that given moment.

It did not dare, for now, even hiss.

exit

- THE LEVIATHAN -

There had been little headway--but at least, now, the damnable thing was cowed. Vargas was relieved, now, that he had chosen to tackle this now--any later, and the shit might have become too difficult to easily subdue.

He'd give it time to think. Time to consider its options. It had physical potential; he hoped it would not flee. He was unsure that he'd find it again, given the size of the damn cave system, with all the new quadrants open. But with luck, it would come to realize that obedience, even if temporary, was its fastest road to freedom.

"I will return soon enough," he told it, and left it to stew in its own rage.

exit Vargas