- THE LEVIATHAN -

After speaking to the Selenite, there was one more thing left on Vargas' immediate plate. He'd been intending to speak to Draconua, if the thing could be even reasoned with. He'd seen her come and go, sometimes licking oil from carcasses strewn along the floor (gross); he hadn't really tried to engage with her. So far she'd left his people alone, and they had let her be.

The alternative was the destruction of half of Draco, after all.

He had debated how to best approach her. He was wary; if she turned on him it could wind up with another fight. Vargas, then, had to be careful not to outright provoke her. But he didn't know how hair-trigger she really was; and he also had to balance that with his authority. If he began to be cowed by her presence, too cautious with her, she might turn on him regardless.

He had, in the end, given up and decided to approach her matter-of-factly, as was his wont: like an equal. He would leave it to her to decide how to react to that, and he himself would, undoubtedly, learn from the experience. And hopefully, he thought, grimly, this experience will not crack the Creator's Spire in half.
The Leviathan wound his way sleekly among the stuttered outcrops of jagged, torn earth that led to the space where Draconua had hatched. She seemed to spend time there, and he picked his way down in the hopes of finding her in her usual spot. "Draconua?" he called out, pausing on what he judged to be the threshold. Not intruding, but waiting, patient. "Are you there?"

It might help that she would enjoy this task, he reflected--a potential silver lining. He had the feeling that once he laid out what he wanted, the 'Sleepless Chaos' would leap for it in a heartbeat.

@Draconua

When she half-emerged from beneath the Black Spire, it was quite obvious what she'd been up to; since she'd been urged not to tear His womb to shreds, she had been taking out her chaotic impulses elsewhere. Knots of scarred-over skin ran across her lower jaw on the left side, and burns twisted up and down her flanks. Most of those marks had been gained in battle—some from her own magical backfires, a terribly frustrating thing she asked Him about so often.

Indeed, though, Draconua kept to herself in this cave. She all but ignored the other creatures loitering about, only stepping to the defense of the Spire when an unfamiliar face came about. Most of them got scared off before a profaned creature could snare them. Shame.

Twelve pinhole eyes fixed on the Leviathan immediately, sanguine faceplate shifting to regard him. Her lips quivered, if only for the thrumming promise of another fight; this time, perhaps, she wouldn't make such a fool out of herself. The Sleepless Chaos knew that she was now used to this body and its corruptive influence. Would there be a contest this time?

For a moment, she contemplated just saying quiet—her slinking out from her Hell-hole was answer enough—but, she rattled out "I am" while looking him in the eye.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Are those eyes..? he found himself wondering, as the behemoth slithered from her black den up into the corrupted air above. They were little holes, yet they seemed to seethe with watchful, wary savagery--not careful, but waiting, waiting for a split-second failure on Vargas' part to unleash. Any excuse, he thought.

Vargas grinned, as best the monstrous and rigid lips face allowed.

"GOOD," he boomed, enthusiasm behind it, for now he was picturing her rage unleashed on Ursa. And those knotted scars, twisting across her hide--her own doing? He hoped, for her sake, that she had better control over her power now. "If you require training to control your magic, I will find someone. Meanwhile. The intruder in this nest yet lingers. I am gathering a team to hunt it down, to destroy it wherever it can be found. One of the strays of this generation--a fungal user, like Master Astraea, trained by him, I think, is out searching for others who might be useful. I will be sending one of my own beasts, and I want it trained before it goes. I was wondering if you would be interested in, oh," and here one massive forearm raised, gesturing with waving fingers in an overly-casual manner, "destruction, chaotic fire, obliteration, hunting, fighting, killing... Any of this of interest to you?"

There had been no niceties, no polite 'how are you doing' or even her name. He doubted she'd care for such things, anyway. He was offering her a chance to unleash herself. He did not doubt that she would take it.

The question was, would she remain controlled? Or would that rampage extend to the 'Gembound,' to the rest of the caves; would she attempt to obliterate it all?

@Draconua

"GOOD," that she remained, hmm? Perhaps the Leviathan had need of her, now. She hadn't forgotten what he'd advised her towards before; it'd merely seemed like busywork to be done along the way of her wreaking havoc. A fungus-laden deer wasn't too clear of a description for a creature that'd never seen a deer before, but perhaps the Master Astraea would come here. It appeared that creating and producing was their job. Where else, but in His womb?

Draconua recoiled slightly, then lifted her chin. Her magic... needing another's assistance? Hah. "I have honed it myself," her voice rattled out in interruption. Would you like to see it, Master Vargas? He'd have to lay down the challenge first, at least. Such was authority.

There were bigger fish to fry, at the very least—largest of them was contemptable Order. Merely hearing its mention had the Hound peeling back her lips, her tail lashing a harsh rhythm. She heaved herself further out the hole, so that the base of her tail was all that remained inside. Consider her interest fully committed to Vargas and not strictly how much she could destroy before he got a pin on her.

Her maw split in an overly wide grin, "the only love I have is for what you've listed."

Draconua cared not for this team or its leader, nor the beasts in training; perhaps not even finding out who other than He had shaped her. The purple behemoth's assumption was true. She would jump at the opportunity to unleash herself and upend reality. "Where first?" Because, of course, she was a one-Valkhound army.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

"It will be in Ursa," he responded--and then studied her, for a moment. Okay, so she'd trained herself. Cool, whatever, that was less work for him to do, and it meant he had another reliable soldier. Assuming, that was, that she wasn't overestimating her own abilities.

"But. You do not, or do you-? have the ability to sense fungus. So unless you destroy the entirety of the cave, its mountains, and everything beneath and ensure nothing escapes, it might simply leak out. That's your decision, of course--if you go that route, completely destroy all tunnel exits first, dig your way out after and pray the other Masters do not actually need the snow cave for anything after it's destroyed." He didn't actually care if she did this, but--"Just don't take too long if you do that, or we--the rest of us--will be blocked from protecting the rest of the nest. Alternatively I will grant you some of my spawn, and you will help to train them, and then lead them into battle. Give them the taste of the Creator's chaos, if you wish--V-Chaos-One will be good for that. The long, black serpent-creature," Vargas explained. 'Corrupt it, if you will,' was what he meant; but to Vargas it was hardly corruption, was it?

Assuming Draconua didn't interrupt him (and there was little he could do if she did), Vargas went on.

"You may go alone, then--or you may lead a group of them skilled in whatever form of destruction you choose to teach them. They are still mine, and not to be harmed unnecessarily--and 'necessary' or not is by my definition--but you might lead a small chaos army of your own, one that can sniff out and obliterate this corruption before it spreads," (and that was corruption, to Vargas--this crystallization of Order and stagnation) "and prove your worth as a true warbringer. I have others coming--hopefully within this cycle. Those that can find the fungus at a distance. That is what I came to ask of you--to see if such leadership interests you. You would be useful in that way. Perhaps the Lord would take notice; perhaps the Creator would grant you leave for further decimation, elsewhere."

Vargas imagined that He would.

@Draconua

The name Ursa did not strike a familiar chord with her, though later context would manage to provide enough description to know that she'd ventured through the cave before. It was a frigid, barren waste; the only interesting feature it held was the mountains Vargas'd described. Draconua did not yet know the upper limits of her ability, but she presumed them to be rather infinite, once she was fully used to it. Destroying caves seemed to be the least of her worries.

... and yet... to lead what would raze Order. To be at the head of a charge, the first to land blows, to break the ice... bah, it was not nearly as enticing as being the singular weapon of mass destruction plowing through. Yet, His influence would be spread further if there was an army of chaotic beasts. Draconua grinned slightly, reminiscing—a swarm of writhing hounds, thundering over the land and between the trees and buildings.

If she were to take this, there was further chance of the Lord's notice, of their Creator's noticing. He'd placed her here for a reason, she was still convinced. Perhaps, it was this.

For the entire duration of her thinking, the Valkhound was stock-still. Her head bobbed with every slow, rattling breath, making the edges of its faceplate glint in the spirelight. Every once in a while, her tail would lash, or she'd exhale more forcefully. Surprisingly, she was not much one to pace, but to occasionally twitch to peer this way or that.

Alone, or with an army—she could do both.

Draconua shifted to gaze at Vargas, straightening after a good thirty second's silence and consideration, and grinned, "we'll burn it all." A chuckle rattled from her lungs. She then sobered to ask, "who do you have to sense it? That of Astraea's?" They'd exhaust their use quickly, she thought, once the infestation was located, but... oh well. All things were expendable in the fight against sterile Order; made for one purpose, and sometimes disposed of once they'd outlived it.

"And where is this... V-Chaos-One?" Is it not already drinking from the well of Chaos? Why was it up to her to provide a taste of that cruel addiction? She mulled over that for a moment as she awaited answers.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

He listened, and was pleased with her willingness, at least. She would burn it all. "Good!" And her apparent ability to think--nothing detailed as yet, and he wasn't truly sure if a sharper mind lingered beneath. But she was thinking ahead. "A young stag, similar to Astraea's current form." He paused. Was this Draconua's first birth? He was unsure; had she known Astraea in the past? Never mind--"It calls itself Tahi-shei. We will see how useful it is," he added, indifferently.

As for Chaos-One--Vargas turned, peering about, imbuing sight with magic. He didn't spot the thing--nowhere near--and after a moment he grunted.

"V-CHAOS-ONE," he boomed, and then, with a sour glance at Draconua, "it does not tend to listen well. Do with it as you see fit, though I prefer seeing it put to use rather than slain," he added. "Its design is good, but it is a fool." Then he was turning pacing with swift and liquid strides for a cave wall. He didn't spot it right away--and it didn't answer. Vargas paused, and turned to the other Valkhound."I will look for it. You may come with me or I will send it to you--bring it to you--when I find it."

@Draconua

Inconsistency and chaotic impulses might lend themselves to an air of pure stupidity, but there was a brain rattling around in the Hound's skull. It was more reliant on wit than the long con. Skillful manipulation and a silver tongue wasn't quite to her tastes, yet—violence was waged with the edge of a blade rather than words. That being said, Draconua wasn't planning too far ahead. It would come to her in the heat of the moment, she thought. Why bother with the future when one was living in the present?

Her faceplate shifted minutely, sanguine edges lit from a new angle. She'd not bothered to ask this before, but—"what is it that you mean? When you say stag?" The question of current form? went unspoken, for the time being. No, the Sleepless Chaos did not know the Virgo Master; his identity was wholly unknown aside from being the creature she was meant to seek out for her purpose—or whatnot. Her tail swept once, and she straightened up further. Was such a thing worth keeping out of unnecessary danger? She'd judge so...

Draconua padded slowly after the Leviathan, pinhole eyes staring ahead with keen indifference. Not at all was she searching for the pitchy serpent. Instead, she was fixating a bit on the gleam of oilstone fixed at the base of his tail. She'd not noticed it before. Fortunately for Vargas(?), he'd already established his dominion over her.

So, then, she lifted her head and looked to him dead-on. Not listening? Either a recipe for disaster or failure. Hopefully, it was the former. "I'll come," the Valkhound assured plainly, then set herself to scanning for whatever might be slinking about in the shadows. A black serpent, hmm?

Were she literally anyone else, the hound might've made some small talk; perhaps asked about what the purpose of this V-Chaos-One was, or what it was to be a Master of these quiet little caves? But, alas, she followed along in silence, passively scanning the walls for any particular aberrations in—or on—them.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

The question--half-unexpected, yet it shouldn't have been--gave him pause. And for a moment, his brain had to struggle to piece together a quick answer: a definition of a stag.

"Small things," he began quickly, without thinking--oops, that was probably an insult to Astraea--"but magically powerful." A pause--did that fix it? And was it accurate-? He thought so. Then, everything was small, compared to Vargas--and now Draconua, who most certainly wasn't small beside him; no, these creatures of new generations, new designs, were practically miniscule compared to them. "Stags are brown, or white. They have four spindly legs that end in hooves, and spines growing like trees from their heads. They seem to be prey animals, and adapted mostly for speed," he explained.

He didn't know why Astraea was one, now. He'd been half-asleep when first he'd seen the Master's new form and hadn't thought to question it much, particularly after Nemean's mockery had made it clear that he didn't wish to discuss it. He didn't know where the design had come from. But the Creator hadn't remade him again, so it couldn't be serious, right?

"In any case, I've met only three and all three were of admirable power. Though they resemble the cave deer, they show far more usefulness than that. CHAOS-ONE-!" he boomed again, picking up a little speed as he went.

At length he found it, his senses at last picking up a flickering heartbeat hiding along a crevice in one wall--jammed in like a snake, as was its habit. He strode up to where it hid and stared up at it. "Chaos-One! This is Draconua. The Sleepless Chaos." Whatever that means. "You will be joining her in hunting down and assaulting bearers of Mother in Ursa later on. I want you stronger, before then," he added. Chaotic infusion should help that, at least; it might even be true what Esther had said about the Creator's magic helping to fight the fungus back. Vargas wasn't sure, but it was worth doing regardless, in his mind.

"Do what she says and you'll be rewarded, you'll get something to hunt, to kill." The two were alike enough, it seemed, in that regard; both Chaos-One and Draconua merely wished to destroy. Why, this serpent had seemed downright miserable with nothing to do, even when given its own chance to find something: perhaps it was best left in her hands.

When he saw the others approaching (after having repeatedly ignored the Master's summons), he was struck at once by their damn size. Vargas was big enough, but Draconua-? Wait, wasn't that the--the thing--from the, uh, that place-...

Fleeting, jumbled memories of tangled limbs and black blood, of shattering earth and new Black Spire, roiled through Nidhogg's mind.

At once he swelled himself up: he was laid sideways along a crevice higher in the walls, and now his body tensed, spines rising, lungs swelling, to fill this space in an attempt to look very big and menacing. Because the pair approaching--they were intimidating, and his toxic eyes watched them with little more than hateful suspicion. It wasn't a very effective display, on Nidhogg's part; he sort of forgot what he was doing halfway through and looked more like he were shrinking back against the rock instead. "WHAT?" he hissed, half-interrupting the Leviathan, but then cringed and refrained from doing so again.

Just in case.

But his glare remained narrowed, jaw twisted in a hateful snarl. When it was said that he would work with Draconua, he flicked his gaze to stare at her in suspicion.

He didn't hate her. He didn't know her, yet. And so he waited, tense, to see what new horrors--or offers--she might bring.

His only further statement was to correct, with a grinding hiss, the word "chaos-one" with "Nidhogggg."

@Draconua