- THE LEVIATHAN -

Orthoclase-Alpha had been his Overseer for several cycles, now, and not once had he actually trained it in what Overseeing entailed. It was time to rectify that, now that they were in Draco; they had work to be doing and he needed his Overseer to know what to actually do.

How to "Oversee."

Part of that would involve understanding the process ahead--and Vargas wondered, vaguely, if Alpha would be up to the task of deciding which creations were weak, which ought to be culled. And Chaos-Two-? Surely that one should have been destroyed, by now; what am I waiting for? A grim thought; he had to wait, to find out if it had any sort of potential.

He should have destroyed it at hatching, really. But he hadn't. Not because he was weak, of course, but-... Just in case.

Anyway-! On to Orthoclase-Alpha. He'd teach it what they were doing, and therefore what to Oversee. What to look for. What to correct.

And in training the others, what to look for, there; how to gauge another's strengths and weaknesses. He only hoped it had a handle on itself, by now; chaos was good when needed, but a fucking liability otherwise.

Vargas grunted, staring into one of the empty alcoves--his would not end up forgotten bones and dust-slicked crystal, no. His would succeed; his would survive.

"OVERSEER," he called, at last; "To me."

@Orthoclase-Alpha

This place set its quills on end.

The orthoclase would like to think that the others disliked the womb, too. Soon as the spawn were given permission to go on their own, half of them spent quite a while in Pegasus. It didn't think for a moment that it was due to one's innate eagerness for exploration. If it weren't busy pacing senselessly, it might've ventured out with them on occasion.

Several days had been spent in its dank confines doing whatever housekeeping was necessary: cataloguing chrysalises; storing away any intact stones and bones they could find; keeping count of the Forge's creatures. The last task was more or less directed at the Sleepless Chaos lying beneath the Black Spire. She'd yet to emerge from her hole since Vargas had dealt with her. Alpha wasted no time in seeing the amount of destruction she'd caused—albeit on its master or the ground. Having some... creature with that amount of power unchained made it nervous.

But, the Leviathan had enough faith in her not to immediately cull her. It'd have to swallow that down eventually. That, and hope that its wariness had been totally unjustified.

Speaking of—

Alpha loped towards him, barely glancing at the womb as it did. It straightened as it came to a halt, grunting a simple, "yes, Master?" Not much more was necessary, given that it had no context for any part of this. Vargas'd clue it in.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas turned to regard his Overseer. He was launching right into all of this--no point in falling behind again; not this time. No. He'd rested, briefly--a day or so, he thought, but who was to tell?--after his brief but ferocious battle with Draconua. And now it was time to begin.

"Have you chosen a name yet?" he asked it, bluntly. He waited for an answer, and then went on.

"Tell me what you think of this place. First impressions, without... filtering your words. Tactically, emotionally, whatever." Vargas paused, stretched; winced faintly at the pain still lingering along one singed leg. Singed, now that his magic had gradually worked new flesh from beneath that which had been blackened. "And then tell me what you know of my work. Of what we will be doing here--myself, Totum, all of us. We will begin with that," he explained.

His demeanor was businesslike--there was no demand in it and little challenge. It was, perhaps, an odd introduction to even a Vargas conversation, but he had reason for framing it as he was.

@Orthoclase-Alpha

"No," it replied promptly, "not yet, sir." Toxic eyes drifted sidelong, though the lack of pupils made noticing the aborted contact near-impossible. Same as last time, considering one hadn't been on its mind. If it had been, the orthoclase might've ventured to ask, "what's in a name?" The spontaneity of Gembound and their ability to come up with seemingly meaningless ones on the spot… it was beyond Alpha. Asking for one seemed so… wrong, though.

That was quickly put onto the backburner. Vargas was asking for, in essence, a report. The Overseer blinked once, slowly—it ought've expected to be called upon one, but so soon… ? (Nevermind that he'd said first impressions outright.) Quills prickled at the passing mention of filtering words. What could he mean by that? Everything felt strangely off. Intentional?

But, yes. First impressions, existing knowledge. Alpha nodded, grumbled for an overly-long moment of reflection (one could hope) and began, "it's small and… flat." Stellar wordsmanship. Its head craned to indicate towards the aperture as it continued, "and has one entrance. It'll be easy to defend." If the alarm sounded, the Forge could be upon their threat in mere minutes. "There's no prey, but the next cave over has enough." The adjoining tunnel wasn't particularly long or arduous to cross through. "It might be good for hunting practice. More… erm, different Lessers." Not just various breeds of rats. But, that wasn't about this place.

Alpha hesitated for a moment, working its jaw clockwise and licking at its chops, before pressing warily, "there's… not much in here." Its gaze flicked up to Vargas. "The creatures have been going to Pegasus in their free time." (This was said with no annoyance or chagrin, because it couldn't blame them.) "Exploring, hunting, resting away from here…" If only it would let itself— "It's not the old tunnel." They'd all get used to it.

The Overseer paused for a moment after that, attempting again to gather its thoughts. At least this next segment was regurgitation of what it did know, without much analysis. "Creating and testing designs… producing and training them for the Lord to take—grnh," it grunted shortly in consideration, but remained fairly monotone, except in the areas it wasn't sure of, "you and Master Totum would be… making creatures. I—training and testing them… ?" Alpha gritted its teeth. All six nostrils flared and it straightened up where it stood. "Seeing what does and doesn't work. The others—the proven ones—would assist in training, too. In what they know." A group effort to ensure these Caves survived even a little bit longer.

It stopped there, head tilting up just slightly. All its shoulders tensed up imperceptibly.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

"Easy to defend," Vargas agreed, by way of beginning his response--and with a gesture toward the Aperture, added "and easy to become trapped in, in case of something drastic. We will need to set up some form of defense. Spikes or the like, I don't know what yet." But Draconua alone had been warning enough--warning, perhaps, from Lord Dhracia herself. Or simply the lesson Vargas had taken from it: Do not become complacent.

Chaos did not rest.

"It is not the old tunnel. It is better, in my eyes, in terms of being larger--more power to work with. More space to work in. More prey, close by. I trust they are finding Pegasus to be... refreshing?" he added. Beings of chaos wished to rend and destroy but these half-breed, half-Gembound beings of Orthoclase's lineage seemed more peaceable than those in the Leviathan's time. Draconua, again, came to mind.

"You're correct, you'll be training them. More than that, overseeing their training. You will look at who has which strengths, which weaknesses. I've judged V-Chaos-Two--it has little other use--to possibly be worthwhile for raising the very young. Guarding them, but also teaching them the very basics of all categories of learning that we might tackle: scouting, infiltrating, magic, mending, combat. From there, you will assess them periodically. And then decide who will mentor each of them, train them further. So now I have two questions for you, Overseer."

Vargas dropped to his haunches, studying Orthoclase-Alpha intently.

"First of all, I want you to tell me what you imagine to be the strengths and weaknesses you might expect in a good fighter, and then again, in a good scout or assassin, or spy. And second."

Whatever question was about to come, Vargas gave no indication: no emotion, no tilt of the head, no blink. There was no sign that this question was to be any more serious, or any less, than anything else. That it might be a test, or whether he already held an opinion, himself.

"What do you think ought to be done with complete failures? Creatures like V-Chaos-Two, crippled or damaged, and unable to perform?"

It was carefully-phrased, and Vargas watched his Overseer closely, like a predator for prey--but it was any twitch of the creature he was looking for, any sign of its emotions in its response. What wasn't clear was why. What he expected was not even hinted at. Whether it was an idle question, or one upon which might hinge the fate of a dozen children, was entirely unclear.

@Orthoclase-Alpha

Did its failure to consider being trapped show a sort of brazen confidence in its own... ?

Alpha's head followed Vargas's claws to the aperture, a wordless grunt of acknowledgement fleeing its mouth. It thought for a moment: guard at the entrance, another at the stones. (Stones meaning the arch cutting Tunnel G in half.) If one were to fall, the other would notice. It didn't offer as much; it was still unused to just... speaking without deliberate permission.

It was no surprise that the Leviathan had a differing opinion on the cave (such was the point of all this.) The orthoclase took it in stride, only experiencing a lapse in processing at "... refreshing?" What a way to put it. As if relaxation were in great supply. Alpha's head tilted just slightly, and it huffed, "they might. Khavur takes them often." They'd come back within a few hours, often with one riding atop one neck. It demonstrated a companionship that Alpha hadn't experienced since its own childhood. Quills pricked—any one of its clutchmates would've nestled deep into its mane, before. For even a trip into Canis, they'd do it. It was the bare minimum of contact, but it was just about the only kind it'd had. At night, they'd piled up in their self-made hole in the Warren.

The Overseer shoved off that tangle of muddled feeling.

For whatever reason—perhaps the limited facilities of when it'd been undergoing its own training—it had held some notion that an Overseer's job was far more direct. Teeth worked at the jaw again. Whatever Alpha had not taught itself, Vargas did through some (overly) brutal lesson or another. There'd not been any other beast but the two of them, yet. The orthoclase nodded mutely, corrected. When he sat, it remained standing.

Any train of thought it had put towards the first question hard-braked to a stop at the second. Its head dipped in a quick, stiff nod. Right. Save that for last.

"I'd expect a fighter to be strong," first and foremost, "or resilient, if they're small. Quick-thinking, instinctive. Knows where and how to attack to quickly end a fight." The Overseer paused for a moment, both to catch up and try (and fail) to gauge any reactions so far. "Uses magic but knows whether or not they should rely on it; when to count on it. Preferring magic or their teeth and claws makes them vulnerable either close up or at a distance." Respectively. This role was the easiest for it to define, given that was... well, its own.

"A scout should be resilient, too. And—" What's the word... "—dexterous. Flexible or clever enough to get to good lookout points. Wings might serve them well... ? And a way to swim. They should be able to at least... fend off anything that might attack them. Smaller scouts might be... erm, fragile. Bigger ones visible and threatening." It was thinking of Epsilon, here, and the distant Gamma.

Then, a class best fitting Garnet-Delta; "small, lethal—well-equipped... ?—is good for an assassin. Something that knows magic and weapons, if needed. Flexible and quick, too. They—" Wait. "—it'd need to be patient and... strike at the right moment. Cleanly. Know its target."

And, finally: "Spies seem... like scouts—but, needing to blend in. They should be able to speak... well—and not be suspicious. Not look so intimidating. Be able to escape if they're caught. But, if one's... away for a while, it might turn." Blink. "On us, I mean."

Was it sad that its throat was a bit sore after that?

Vargas awaited an answer to his last two questions, and the Overseer hesitated to answer them. Its weight shifted tellingly from either foot, and it grumbled, "we were going to give them to the Doctor... ?" Unless the vulture had decided that he wasn't going to stay here and it'd missed as much.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas hadn't been correcting Orthoclase, just adding to its thoughts, but apparently its self-damning nature hadn't recognized that. He listened intently, in fact, to everything it said: noting down what it knew, what it didn't, what its opinions were. The only time he interrupted was to interject into the "spies" bit, a quiet "Social skills," when Orthoclase stumbled over "be able to speak..." and beyond that, he just took his mental notes.

"I am not asking what were were going to do with them; I am asking what you think we should do with them. You and I both may form creations that do not compete properly," he explained, and boy, if Alpha had thought Vargas brutal prior, it might certainly find his cold question now to be so.

He went on, though, sitting back with a deep inhale, a thoughtful pause, a long exhale. He gestured, then, at Orthoclase-Alpha.

"Overall you have covered most of what I would say, though only brushed over weaknesses. Recognizing strengths is good; their absence is certainly weakness. Frailty in a fighter is merely missing strength; blundering idiocy in a spy is the lack of social aptitude and intelligence. That is enough," he mused. "Go over the ones we have now. Your spawn, and mine. Tell me what you think them suited for, and what you would do to train them. As an example," he went on, intending to perhaps provide some sort of framework for this conversation, "for Garnet-Delta, I deemed it quite suitable--as it requested--as a scout and assassin. Therefore my first task was to give it to Hemlocke--its... overseer, so to speak, in that regard; and then, when it returned, to find out what it already knew. It knew of stealth, of caution, of a touch of magic but not enough. I found out where it might be discovered--by those with magic--and taught it how to hide itself: by imitating Lessers, by studying their movements. And how to avoid that weakness: by learning magics to watch from afar. I have now set it to gather information and return, and it will prove itself in doing so. So, give me a run-down on what you would do with your three spawn, and mine, were I not here--if you were Overseeing them, without my presence at all. For what do you deem each suitable? How would you plan their training?"

He had, perhaps, waited too long before starting their training, himself--but that was soon to be rectified, with--he hoped--Overseer Alpha's aid.

@Orthoclase-Alpha

"Social skills." Ironic.

Much as the orthoclase did not want to be cowed—subordinancy was no longer a good color, apparently—it couldn't help the instinctive smoothing of quills down its neck. They weren't fully flush, but certainly lying tensely. Vargas had not asked what it was they had planned. He was right about that. Alpha leaned forward, mouth just barely opening as if to backpedal. He awaited an answer it did not have.

So, it contemplated that in their tense silence. Releasing them into the rest of the nest came to mind first, but that would only feed any worries of rebellion. Keeping otherwise useless creatures about the womb would be a liability sooner or later. Extra bodies to defend, extra mouths to feed. Extra... leverage, against what they were doing. If someone like Pride happened along a twisted beast—Alpha shook its head slightly at the thought. Quills prickled. An answer, an answer—hm.

"Put it down and... try again with its stone." Brutal. The words tasted dirty in its mouth.

"That is enough," he said, "go over the ones we have now." Their spawn and accompanying dossiers; what they would be good for and how they'd be trained to accomplish that. An example was strung along for it, and Alpha surprisingly retained and summarized a great chunk of the method: see initial strengths; put an expert on study; refine at the end. It spent a moment in contemplative silence before beginning with it's own spawn. There was a pause between each report, as it tried to be... somewhat contemplative.

"The labradorite—I would... have it be a scout—or a spy?—in the water. It's a quick swimmer. Quiet. It can breathe underwater like I can." (Had it ever reported that discovery?) "It'd need to learn... where all of the rivers go. We could attempt to find creatures in the water to teach it... ? Or have it find where on its own. I'd test how quickly it could navigate or track one of ours without touching land. Then, ways to stay hidden if it needs to. Its black... erm, covering runs off and leaves a trail. Magic to change colors or stick close to shadows would help—and spotting living things from afar, in case of danger or taking count."

Its throat hurt from disuse, but it cleared its throat with a grumble, and pressed on. "V-Selenite-One seems... it could be a good assassin. A spy, too. It watches from afar before engaging. Its strong and armored—could fight against a larger target—but still small. I'd take it to its... stone-giver, first; to learn how to make and use weapons... ? Or, to scavenge its own. Something for it to train with and know." (They'd have to hope there wasn't too much attachment... ?) "Garnet-Delta could teach it how to hide and plan attacks—with or without magic. It could practice on prey? Then, our own or... volunteers."

"Zoisite—" and wasn't this one confusing. It was Alpha's Chaos-Two and -Three; twisted around from birth, amorphous in motives. The insectoid creature scarcely hunted and even more rarely allowed anything to make contact with it. But, its stone-giver had been "a fighter. It's protected from all angles and its pincers are powerful. I'd train it in combat on my own, and have it spar with creatures across the Caves—let it find its own way to stop... looking at the ground." A faint twinge of failure coiled through it. "Have it learn magic to add to its fighting, too. It has the size and natural… weapons. I could have it learn to hunt and assassinate, too, using magic to bait into traps..." Afterthought.

The Overseer took more than a few seconds to catch its breath and clear its throat again. Three more to go, all Vargas's, now. It was more wary of judging any one of them. One—the aforementioned Chaos-Two—was completely hindered by a mishapened rear. Another's camouflage was completely nonfunctional. The third was… well…

It tried.

"I'd... do the same with Khavur. Teach it close-range combat, have it learn magic. Spar with our own and others. One of the winged creatures—Delta or Epsilon—would have to teach it to fly. It'd not be limited by range." A but of a pause. "If it wants to be a hunter, it needs to learn to control its... colors. Skin." "Stop that," was something it'd told the beast many times, to no avail. No matter how much the Revenant seemed to try, there was no voluntary response. Alpha glanced to the side and then back up. It paced stiffly for a few feet before continuing.

Omitting the name he insisted upon being called, "Chaos-One... erm, a hunter—assassin, maybe? It..." bites the Hell out of anything that moves "has... a lot of determination." Alpha was only half-joking. "I'd find a way to get it to focus on a target. Train it in what the quickest way to disable something is. And have it practice on prey with Selenite... ? Bringing them back without killing them. Then, some volunteers. It'd need to know how to hide and be stealthy. Climbing's already been learned." Many hours have been spent trying to wrench Nidhogg away from walls.

Last, and kind of least: "I wouldn't... do anything different with Chaos-Two. Learning magic might be good to protect the spawn—some to mend, learned from the Doctor, maybe."

The Overseer paced a few more steps, and then plopped onto its rear. If its throat was sore before, the sensation had increased tenfold. Its tongue swiped over its teeth. Caves, its mouth was dry. Yet another grumble cleared its throat; and, it awaited a response with guarded curiosity.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Orthoclase-Alpha's answer was indeed brutal, and Vargas' head tilted a fraction. He waited, however, until it was entirely done speaking, and then he tilted his head back a little to take it all in. To go over again everything it had said, while it was all still fresh in his mind.

Some vague part of him did, of course, pay full attention to all the individual notes about the spawn--but just as much, perhaps moreso, Vargas was gauging Orthoclase-Alpha's own attentiveness. What it might have missed. Where it was comprehensive, or accurate, or insightful. "All in all, your answers are promising," he began, speaking his mind bluntly; "and now I will explain that all of this is your responsibility, as Overseer. You now have the authority to make these judgments--come to me if you are unsure--and to command the training that you deem necessary. I agree with most of your assessments. I was unaware of Labradorite's ability to breathe underwater," he added, in a tone that suggested he was impressed--whether by Alpha's knowledge, Labradorite's ability or both, he didn't say. "So: start them on all of this. Be careful to use your time well, to plan it so you are not overwhelmed by one child or another. Delegate, as you suggest; Garnet-Delta might teach Selenite, as you say, and thus reinforce its own learning while freeing you for other things. Take them hunting in Pegasus, I think. Play games with them: one predator, the others prey--or one the hunted--and allow them to practice. See how they perform. Do this with the young among them, too. Finding someone to train Labradorite in the water may be difficult," he added, thoughtfully, "but see if Doctor or the--the white bird--can teach Khavur to fly." There--individuals covered, more advice doled out.

"It is your responsibility--and mine--to ensure that these creatures are up to the Creator's standards, if and when the time comes. Now I will tell you something else." Vargas sat back, eyeing Orthoclase-Alpha intently. "Magic is useful for our work. It is useless to the Creator, and to Lord Dhracia, except in specific creations that we may offer her. Those that fission--the results cannot use magic. They will have no stones to do so. They must be pure ferocity: physical force, pure and simple. Reavers and predators, all of them. So seek monsters, Orthoclase-Alpha: seek creatures that can kill you or I. Improve on what we have so far, always."

Vargas paused, staring again at the Overseer, and now at last addressed the elephant that he'd left in the room. "As for culling, putting them down, that is an answer I did not expect." There was no tone; whether Vargas was truthful here or not was entirely unclear. "I have no wish to destroy the new before we can attempt to find purpose for them, and then not to destroy them later on. That was the old way and it was the best way for forging only the strong. But do I desire that?" Vargas let the silence stretch, for a beat, staring at Overseer Alpha. There was honesty now, blunt frankness in his words. "I do not. Lord Dhracia insists that I must remember why we cull the weak," he went on, and here he leaned in closely, because who knew who might be listening in: "But if any of them mean anything to you, you must never show it. It might be used as leverage for your obedience." He leaned back, carrying on as if he hadn't said this, tone returning to a normal level. "If you do not wish to destroy new creations, then we must do our best to ensure never to make them to begin with. And if we do, to find them some useful purpose. We will see what we will build," he added.

Would Totum be joining them in Creation? Perhaps. Perhaps Vargas would not have the stranglehold on Origin's operations that he was hoping for. Perhaps Totum would Oversee him, in turn: he would see. But he had no intention of giving it reason to doubt him, or his.

"Now: on to motivation, and punishment. As an Overseer, you will need a way to reward good behavior and to punish rebellion. Your thoughts on this-?" he asked.

@Orthoclase-Alpha

Quills wavered at the praise, pricked at the "authority to make these judgments." The power or right to give orders, make decisions, and enforce obedience. Six cycles of being completely submissive to authority clearly let it slide comfortably into having those opinions and self-determination. It was a bit ironic. Orthoclase-Alpha, so concerned with control and power, had little to no ability to exercise it. All the authority it had ever held as Sentinels was garnered and sustained through violence; and, the Chaos Forge was suddenly not beneath the rule of beasts.

The Overseer nodded regardless. Vargas had advised towards delegation before, it thought—and it hadn't particularly done any of that past somewhat half-heartedly assigning patrols whilst Mary's chrysalis was developing. They'd all slipped easily into that routine after it had been established, so that didn't really count as direction.

There was the matter of magic, of monsters, too; physical powerhouses were what they should prioritize. But, for their own purposes, it was still a good idea—and in case the Lord took one of theirs with magical prowess. Alpha bowed its head to that, as well. Read, loud and clear.

"As for culling, putting them down, that is an answer I did not expect." No? Had it given him an impression of sensitivity? Softness—"... it was the best way for forging only the strong. But, do I desire that?" A pause. "I do not." The orthoclase tightened its jaw, some repressed memory of the Leviathan looming over it flickering to the forefront. It could almost feel the layers and layers of its hide cracking beneath his forearms; almost hear his booming voice threatening to destroy it.

Its mane flared once. What had changed that? The question burned in its mind, and it tumbled out in a brief growl, "why don't you?" Alpha's jaws popped as they snapped shut and it reflexively seized up tight, like a spring.

@Vargas