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CYCLE 120Current time: Apr 04 2025, 03:10 PM


Assassins' Lead IN Main Area
THE LEVIATHAN
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It's like Creed, only not



- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas' turn, his bellow, was directed back toward the black and oily Spire. He was ever aware of its heat, of its shifting nature and something about it still unsettled him. Not... in a way that made him nervous; but in a way where he felt that he could never rest.

Not that he required sleep, of course.

"Garnet-Delta!" he called, and it was yet another name in the rote. Now that they had time, and space, he was speaking to each of them and doling out responsibilities and further training one by one--and he had high hopes, for this one.

High hopes--and plans.

He waited, there, briefly eyeing over the tracery of lightning-like burns that Draconua had left him with, pondering their futures.


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Its name was called, and how lucky it was that it was not away. No, it heard the call, and it came in a heartbeat. It had heard Vargas call for the others, one by one. It had been awaiting its turn, though in the same vein, not holding its breath. After all, it had a task to focus on. It had magic to learn, harness, master. It certainly didn't lay about in wait, but it was hardly surprised when it heard its name bellowed.

It had yet to get used to the damp darkness, but it was learning to call this place as home as any other. This place simply did not let it rest fruitfully; it set its pelt at an uneasy prickle, and with the monsters born from the Womb, it was not wrong to be wary. Draco, it found, made it so that it did not settle. Did not become complacent.

After seeing the children shy away from it so much, and after seeing how they had developed, Garnet-Delta felt a cold in its bones. Yes, this was exactly what was needed if they were to keep the caves alive. They needed to never fall into routine and familiarity, they needed to be pushed to perfection. It was uncomfortable. It made it flex its claws into stone and want to turn its head away. For that reason, it looked ahead.

Garnet-Delta flew through the cavern, toward Vargas and the Black Spire that dominated the room almost as much as the room dominated all beings within. "Master Vargas," the garnet announced itself as it swept down to land at the leviathan's feet, craning its head up to stare with bright, glimmering red eyes in the voidlight.

Don't get your hopes up. He's busy. "What do you need?" It asked. It's just business.



@Vargas


 
 
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- THE LEVIATHAN -


Vargas turned toward the sound of gliding wings, as pleased to see Garnet-Delta as he was the best of his own spawn. This one had, thus far, delighted him: exceeded expectations in both its attitude (outstripping even Hemlocke's responsible perfectionism and Palefur's ambition) and aptitude (showing both skill and resourceful thinking). It had done nothing wrong, and everything right; and that was something Vargas truly enjoyed seeing.

So his nod to this one was deeper than with some, a little more casual, a little more respectful. "Good! There you are," he declared, entirely unnecessarily. "Now that we are here, and have time to organize and arrange ourselves, I am doing just that. We are sorting out roles for the members of this Chaos Forge, and responsibilities. So tell me, first of all; since last we met, how has your training gone? What have you been doing; what more have you learned?" A pause, and then a rare, preemptive forgiveness, just in case: "I do not expect it to be much, as busy as we have been--and as much as you were needed to patrol Tunnel P whilst the children grew. But this is where I will begin," he explained, and his tone was almost easygoing.

A pause, and then, with a curious eye, the Master asked another question--this one the same he'd asked his Overseer, and he asked it now on impulse. "Tell me, too: what do you think of this cave?"


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Garnet-Delta's ears twitched at its Master's first few questions. "I'm still exploring possible methods to scry from a distance," it explained, "I've found a few possibilities, but I am still mastering them. I do not feel confident enough to move forward into stage two." Between ways it already had access to-- body swapping (its pelt prickled) and mind reading-- the others had yet to come so easy. Fungal magic seemed like a good way to start, but it hadn't quite made it work for itself yet.

Realistically, it needed to speak to more gembounds, and continue to expand its magical capabilities. Such things had been slow going with the movement, but-- "However, there's been a flood of other creatures looking to explore the new caves. I'm keeping my eyes out for the more capable, whether they would be a good opportunity to learn more, or worthy of more practical interests... Design, or otherwise." Garnet-Delta was being a bit wordy, ah, maybe over-explaining itself for the lack of actual progress made thus far. Even with its Master's understanding preloaded and offered space to breathe.

The alien-feline felt the pause in the never still air, rocked by the constant breathing of the aperture. Its wide, still eyes filled with the black of pupil at the question, lips drawing back ever so slightly.

Ah, the cave.

"I was more comfortable at the warren," it answered earnestly. Comfort was a luxury it spurned like an ex-lover, now feverishly obsessed with its work. So it went on: "I think we, as a whole, are better for moving here. Draco sets us all on edge, and for good reason," the feline eyed the fresh, sickly wounds across its Master's carapace. "We have the fate of the caves resting upon our success and failure. We should be unsettled. There is work to do."

That all was a whole lot of conjecture, a whole lot of waxing lyrical that perhaps Master Vargas would not necessarily respect... But it was a gut feeling, one that it couldn't shake. One that it was certain others felt as well. "As for a place to do our work, it is relatively secluded," it went on, "and compared to the beauty of Pegasus, I imagine most gembound would rather stay away from a place that feels... Unnatural. There will be some, curious, but I feel many will avoid sticking their nose into somewhere we don't want them to." Only the truly foolhardy or dangerous.

The ones they could make use of, perhaps.

"It is also dark, and many of us blend in nicely into the bright glows and deep blacks. We have the advantage of growing accustom to this particular light, where as others who would attempt to stop us would find it difficult to fight here... Without magical aid, at least. We have the benefit of having many who can sense living creatures, as well, so it will be hard for anyone to sneak through the entrance without being noticed." It had a lot of thoughts on the subject, though for the most part it was coming up with ideas on the fly here.

"Lastly," it was almost done, really, "I've noticed that there's lots of stones, where creatures were being... manufactured, perhaps, in the past? It's worth considering if any of them could be reborn." V-Zoisite-One had been made from a random stone, which... It was unique, at least. There was potential, it assumed, worth exploring.

If monsters had been born here before, they could make monsters once more. That was what Lord Dhracia wanted from them. The spare stones would give them plenty of fuel when they needed it.



@Vargas


 
 
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- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas mostly listened, only interjecting here and there as he deemed it necessary. "Wise," was one such interjection, at the mention that Garnet-Delta wasn't yet comfortable moving past the initial training. "Learn thoroughly; rushing will only lead to failure." It was approval, not advice, in his tone.

He mulled over the idea that Draco 'set them all on edge.' It was something he hadn't noticed, but then, he had hated the tunnel anyway: no place to stalk or hide, just a narrow, uncomfortably hot, bright place. No real foliage. No water. Not a good place, by any means. Perhaps it was because it was the only home they had known-? "At least they will have access to Pegasus," he responded, a thoughtful murmur. "But you make a good point in that the nature of this place will keep those not of His design at bay, I think. Perhaps that is why you are not comfortable here. As for the stones, I have already been categorizing them. Do not touch them," he added, in warning, "but part of my work here has been to check which are still viable, and lay them among the bones to which they belonged. It will give us some idea of what they are best used for." Yes, he and Totum could create new creatures, but Vargas already had a swathe of monsters--like Zoisite, Orthoclase, and Chaos-One--to use in the formation of a new generation. Assuming they weren't all too... new-generation on their own, too uncomfortable around Chaos, too used to the caves' new magics, it would be faster and easier to pair them off with the bones of appropriate designs.

"On to your tasks, then. Obviously, your primary goal is to continue training and to tackle the tasks I have given you--if even the dragons still remain where they were. But you will also be in charge of our wing, should you accept this, of spies and assassins. Your skill, intelligence, resourcefulness and your sense of responsibility--your ambition, without greed--are unmatched among any of the spawn, here. And so, this is what I propose to you."

Vargas rocked back, sitting on his haunches, and took a breath to speak.

"For you to oversee the wing of spies, scouts and assassins of the Chaos Forge. To seek out appropriate designs for use in training or further creation. Cats seem useful; the more winged cats we can find the better, I think, but that will be your decision. You are also to hold training--joint or separate, as you see best--with Ruby-Beta and with V-Chaos-Two. Ruby-Beta and yourself are to share what you have learned; teach it what I have taught you thus far, as well. With V-Chaos-Two, it will be in charge of teaching new spawn the basics of all our learning, and so you will teach it what it will need to know to grant a foundation to them. You will also be in charge of arranging such things among the young. Ruby-Beta turned down the role of training the young to hunt; you would be free to take them out if you so chose, and train them yourself."

Vargas paused, eyeing Delta.

"Should you accept, you may choose a title appropriate to your station. Any title you wish. And once your training is complete, you might choose a name, as well," he added. "You would be free to guide and direct the spy wing, its training, its reproduction, entirely; and come to me with questions, or requests for new designs. Your thoughts-?"

That last implication, he didn't elaborate on--but it lay there, an offer that glistened black. If Garnet-Delta wished it, Vargas could create for it anything it wanted: a servant, a bodyguard, another spy to work with. That was within his powers: and now it was offered to Delta, as well.


@Garnet-Delta

 
 
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Garnet-Delta was the cat that got the cream; every word of praise from its Master like a mother's tongue rasped over its ears. A sensation it would never know, but the feeling it brought so similar. The closest thing to reassurance, the closest it got to satisfaction.

Its report finished, it sat at attention to listen to its masters response, and immediately found itself puzzled... Did Master Vargas think that Garnet-Delta would meddle with stones? It had no interest in breeding, the thought had not occurred to it besides the use it would have toward its Master's purposes. "Of course," it mewled, subservient. It would have offered to help, but it presumed that Master Vargas would have a much better time without it meddling, and its small size and lack of thumbs would prove to make it more in the way than helpful, even if it could match bones to bones to stone.

The subject moved on, reiterating its purpose. The mention of training spies and assassins made its fur prickle. It had impressed its Master enough to put it in place of teacher, a role-reversal from such a short cycle ago. Eager, it nodded in agreement as Vargas began his proposal. The leviathan leaned back, inhaled, and...

Master Vargas got four words in before Garnet-Delta's ears filled with the roaring of blood, its heart racing. Oveesee. OVERSEE. That word, that precious word-- did Vargas really mean? Could he possibly? Its whole body buzzed with a static sensation; shock seizing it. Was this a dream? No. A test?

Garnet-Delta struggled to keep up, ears twitching and straining to focus on the words as everything seemed to come to a point, an unspoken purpose coming to a head. This was everything it had ever wanted, and Vargas dropped it so sudden, sweeping forward to explain what It Would Oversee. It caught bits and pieces, finding winged-cats, training with Ruby-Beta and V-Chaos-Two; from passing on knowledge to raising the youngest toward their new purposes.

But it was in charge of arranging. It was in charge. It was going to Oversee. Ruby-Beta had turned down an offer; and it had the freedom to take as much as it wanted, to spread its wings and soar.

Should it (of course it would) accept (OF COURSE IT WOULD), it would... Choose a title? A Title? Not a name; a name it did not want, the name would come when it was ready. More was offered to it, but it wanted nothing but what it had always dreamed of. It had not realized it was holding a breath the whole while until Master Vargas asked for its thoughts. Then it realized, as it exhaled and inhaled in a rasping gasp, that it had not blinked, either; its eyes dry as it forced itself to lower its head and shut its eyes in a show of respect and humbleness.

"... Master Vargas," the words came slowly, after a few more stunned seconds, and finally its head raised again. Its tail tip twitched with contentment, drawing a tongue over its muzzle as though savoring the taste of the words on its teeth. "I would take the title of Overseer, of spies and anything else you should need of me. It would be an honor." Satisfaction purred through its pelt, rippling its fur as it held its head high. It could have any title, but nothing would satisfy it as strongly as the one that Vargas had once held.

It held that moment, a culmination of all it had achieved. From here, there was only one thing to do: to be an Overseer, for a Master it had all but worshipped from hatching. So, to be an Overseer, it would have to do its job and do it well. "I will see to organizing what we already have to work with, and passing down my knowledge to those suitable... And see to the producing of more appropriately shaped creatures to flesh out the wing of spying." Speaking of... "If you were to find something appropriate among the stones," its red eyes glanced toward the broken pieces lining the far wall, "I would like to have an apprentice, to mold from birth." But it did not want to rush such a process. "Once I have taught what I can to the current generation, and once I have mastered the art of assassination fully."



@Vargas ; thank you for your patience you cannot IMAGINE how long this whole thing has been sitting in my brain aaa


 
 
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- THE LEVIATHAN -


The gasp took him by surprise, and he watched, nonplussed, without real reaction. It was more a sort of mental note, a Huh, unthought in real words, tucked away for later (brief) pondering.

And then it accepted his proposal.

"Good," he began, his voice briefly booming, before settling back into his typical loud-but-businesslike speaking tone. "It pleases me to know that this is in good hands. A lesson for you, for free;" he added, and there was amusement in his tone, almost as if speaking to an equal; "delegation is half of leadership. It is a weight off my mind to have you performing this service. And a Master is only as good as his Overseers; and indeed an Overseer must have their workers, too." A nod, then, of acknowledgment for the Garnet's other request. "Overseer Garnet-Delta." The form of address--the first of its kind--was loud enough, and then Vargas tilted his head a little, as if tasting it, gauging it. "We will get you an apprentice and once it has also proven itself, perhaps you can choose a name to go with that title--something more suited, something personal. In the meantime, you have options."

The Leviathan turned, gesturing off at the black stones, the very ones Delta had indicated. He was going through the possibilities in his mind--not judging Garnet, at the moment, no longer examining the minutiae of its body language, no; now he was thinking over apprentices, of all the options now available to them regarding the formation of life.

"I can create for you a custom creature if you prefer it, one from these stones, and to your design. Or I will give you leave to find a suitable partner to create one yourself, of your choice. If you wish to wait for me to find a stone for you to use, we might try it; but this place was not one of small spies. It was a place of behemoths and armies. And if even I found such a stone, we might not find a spark of life yet remaining in it to be ignited. But the choice is yours." He looked back to it, unblinking. "I can make you a being; you can form one yourself, or you can wait. Mind you, the entirety of the Forge--all of those you choose to create--will be your apprentices, in a sense. But if you mean that you want one wholly under your control, your authority; that, we can do. Explain, then; what is it exactly that you want, and how would you like to tackle it? ...Overseer?"

Vargas was making mental notes, now, too: he'd need to tell Orthoclase-Alpha that Delta was now its fellow Overseer. Two was good, a solid number: he'd have an Overseer of physical combat, and another of stealth. And that, for now, was all that he needed; these were the only positions that he intended to fill. While the Orthoclase was to handle most of his duties when he was away--security, primarily--the training of hunters was an important task, as well.

He imagined that Lord Dhracia, in particular, would find it simply imperative.


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Overseer Garnet-Delta nodded, lips drawn back to bare teeth in an expression that was fierce and enthused. Master Vargas was pleased by its choice, always satisfied, always urging it to chase its full potential. It was still thriving in the high of the decision, but its long ears remained forward and pricked, absorbing every word as though still starving for more.

Delegation; a weight off of Master Vargas's shoulders. It, too, would have to learn this skill. It took in this information, swearing it to memory like a badge of honor. Master Vargas spoke its title, something it had imagined in its dreams since its first cycle. It was real. It was Overseer. Master Vargas told it that they would get it an apprentice, and once it was proven, Overseer Garnet-Delta could have a name. As if a name could give the same euphoria as its title, but respectful of the prestige held out for it, it lowered its head in subservience again.

Its whiskers twitched as Master Vargas went on, giving it an array of choices. This was a weighty decision, one that he had only just come to think about. The options were daunting, but it supposed... If its first apprentice did not work out, it could simply start fresh. It would hate to waste Master Vargas's talents, but it found it difficult to imagine that it would find a suitable partner... There was risk, with breeding with a living gembound or a stone. It left too much up to fate.

... but it had been born of that fate, as had its fellow Overseer, Orthoclase-Alpha. The ones that Master Vargas had made... They had their own potential, but were also able to be flawed. All beings could be flawed. It would have to work with risk. Its ears flicked back and forth, as it considered, weighing the choices.

"Master Vargas," it began finally, meeting its master's six eyes with its own. "I look forward to teaching the others my skills, to train them to serve suitable roles as you taught us. This particular apprentice that I imagine, it follows in my wing. I want to give it the dedication that I have shown, to make itself a copy of myself, or better. One who's whole life has always been driven to this purpose." The children here, the fellow members of the Forge, they had been given freedom to decide. Overseer Garnet-Delta thought this wise, but... Master Vargas had been created to be an Overseer, and pushed beyond to become a Master. He had a purpose from birth, one that Garnet-Delta envied. That it strived to obtain for itself.

"...While I have eventually found my purpose," its voice softened, "I started with doubts. Doubts of my worth, of my potential. You have built up my courage, guided me. I would like a creature who would be made for assassination, who would know this from the start. Who would be certain, and fearless, and with my personal guidance, capable of pushing me to be even better." Its own words made it think of Epsilon, of Palefur, of Hemlocke. A cold crept down its spine, its tail twitching. "... It would have the choice, to take a different path; I would not want to force something into misery. But if it takes after me, after Hemlocke, after you, Master... I would be proud of it." As, it thought, Master Vargas was proud of it.

This was all conjecture, and spoke nothing to practical wants. Dreams and ambitions were nothing without substance. "I lean toward your creations, as they would be guarantee something of at least... the correct shape, something small, as I am. But I would think it wise to perhaps consider myself finding a... partner," these words were reluctant, despite itself. "Both Overseer Orthoclase-Alpha and I were made from two compatible partners, and I think the process has merit." A pause. "... I may consider removing the partner I choose from the equation before the child is born, if I take this method. Both of us have known our other predecessor's death in our lives, and I would be lying to say it did not have an impact, on me or others." That was the past, of course, but it seemed reasonable. Rational. It would be dangerous, because Overseer Garnet-Delta didn't plan on settling for the first winged, house-cat-shaped creature it found. It wanted someone to rival itself; something it could at the very least have faith in like Master Vargas had once had in Palefur.

"I will need time to decide further," it acknowledged. "For now, I have my tasks, and need to learn how to delegate efficiently, as well. If you find a design among the stones suitable, I would be happy to provide." It had no interest in offspring, not truly; this apprentice idea was less about its own bloodline and more about the relationship it believed it had with its Master, and wanting to continue that. Still, it knew its form had potential. It had proven that potential. A cat could not look more proud of itself than Overseer Garnet-Delta did just then, head held high, whiskers curled, tail tip flicking back and forth.


@Vargas


 
 
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- THE LEVIATHAN -


It began with what might have sounded, to another, like platitudes. But Vargas was fairly certain that Delta meant every word--and that was what garnered Garnet-Delta respect from the Leviathan. Real respect, not simply the approval of an Overseer or even a Master. He respected its dedication, its precision, its efficiency and calculation. But most of all the dedication--the loyalty, the sense of responsibility and direction. It was a defining characteristic, one he valued highly and one, unfortunately, that his other Overseer lacked in astonishing entirety. ...'To make itself a copy of myself, or better,' it was saying, and Vargas' chin raised a noticeable amount, then dipped, in a nod of obvious approval. "To desire to improve upon the next cycle with pride in your work, and not resentment in possibly being surpassed, is a strength," he offered, a brief notation inserted into its speech.

'I started with doubts. Doubts of my worth, of my potential. You have built up my courage, guided me.' Vargas took note of this, considering. Perhaps its insecurity, if it had had any, had been a force in driving it to prove itself? He didn't know for sure, but he'd always been fairly certain of this one's potential, at least. Was that important? -Encouragement? I will remember that, he thought. He'd always Overseen, but never been in charge of the others' training. Only culled the weak, spared with them, taught them what he was told to, took note of the strengths of the survivors, and reported to his Masters. Motivation had come into play but not as often as it did now, and usually in the form of him stalking behind a group, motivating them to push on or to be eaten. And as for 'I would not want to force something into misery,' Vargas gave a little snort and a nod. "In my era," he remarked, "we were created with a purpose not only as our task, but as our drive. We usually desired to do our work, and to lack that desire was a fault, if an unusual one. Orthoclase-Alpha is proof of the new generation's differences. If your 'apprentice' does not like its work, its fate will be in your hands--to release as you see fit, if you wish it, and to try again. And I will not judge you on your work; this... section, of the Forge, will be wholly your domain. I will not intrude on it. You recall that I asked Lord Dhracia to leave the Forge to purely my authority, and for the rest of you to never be punished for my transgressions?" This was said factually, not with any of the martyr's whine; he was getting to a point. "So it will be for the assassins, or whatever you choose to name them. I will not decide their fates or punish them--that will be your responsibility and your privilege, unless you ask me to do so at some point." That had to be clear, and out of the way, in his mind. He wanted Garnet-Delta focused on its task, not eventually fretting over Vargas perhaps harming one of its subjects.

Though, he was not sure that it would care. He did not attribute it the same weaknesses that the "Gembound" held--but then, was that not a weakness of his own..? He had held the same... not fears, no. Not fears. Concerns. Yes, and did that count as a weakness, to ask that of his Lord-?

...Surely not. I will need to consider this. ...Later. It was a worrying possibility, and had the ex-Overseer briefly distracted.

He turned his mind back to Delta as quickly as he could, trying to focus on its words. To its long verbal consideration of possibilities. '... I may consider removing the partner I choose from the equation before the child is born.' Vargas' rigid brow would have perked over all three eyes, if it could have. "I would not recommend killing its parent," he interjected, somewhat surprised at such a thought. "-Do you mean that the pressure of a dead one spurred you to prove yourself? Or was it something else? Was that the case with Orthoclase-Alpha?" he asked, abruptly, surprised at the thought. The old Orthoclase had proved herself. Vargas had even told Alpha not to concern itself with such an idea, given that the Trial of Darkness had been little more than a feeding for a weapon held by this nest. "Regardless, the child may grow resentful and you might lose its loyalty, should it ever uncover that fact, assuming that you hide it. And if the design proves worthwhile it may be something you wish to reuse. I am uncertain about my ability to completely replicate designs, as yet," he added, in warning. Plus, what the hell? Even Vargas was surprised at the ruthlessness. But... he'd hardly been raised in a culture that gave him the background to morally protest. He couldn't even, on reflection, quite figure out why the idea of "murdering the other parent of my child" bothered him.

He hesitated, briefly, then settled on: "I do not want the Forge to get into the habit of killing the worthy." Faint memories of glory, triumph; of courage, flowed through his mind. That was the other side of the "culling, murder" coin: the blazing-eyed cheers of the survivors. The roars of the victors, scar-knotted and proud. The clang of weapon on armor or shield as they screamed their triumph to the hidden stars.

How glorious it had been. This... murder in the dark; that wasn't the right fate for a thing worthy of survival. Dying to an assassin might, to some, have rendered a thing not "worth" living; but Vargas knew that no creature was truly immune to such a tactic. A good assassin with time to plan could kill anyone, or anything--it was just that the caves' purpose was a little more... general than that. Armies, instead of spies. Brute force, over black cunning.

But there was no harm, the Leviathan thought, in practicing both.

"Take your time, then, in deciding. Come to me with any concerns that you might have, any advice, or simply to talk. We will be, in a sense, comrades from here on out--colleagues in our work. Cooperation and communication will be key and I want there to be no confusion between us. If you wish to train, pass thoughts by me or ask for aid you may interrupt me at any task. Do you have questions, for now, or anything else to discuss?" he asked, eyeing the Garnet with a businesslike eye.

...Eyes.


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RESTORED TO 100%





As Master Vargas spoke of his era, Overseer Garnet-Delta listened with curiosity and... longing, perhaps. It could have never been born without the recent changes, but had it been born knowing its purpose, allowed to hone its skills, would it have been even better? It didn't know.

It occured to the Garnet that Master Vargas's was trying to suggest it away from the idea of slash-and-burn, as though culling the weak was something he had come to decide was... Inappropriate, perhaps. It did not know if this was a weakness or a strength, but it had never liked the notion of loose ends. While Master Vargas wanted to make it clear that he would not punish it's subjects, it started to think that Master Vargas was implying that punishment was not the correct way to train.

The Garnet wouldn't disagree, even though the nagging thought that those that did not carry their weight did not deserve to survive-- those unfit to survive should perish-- it decided that its thoughts were wandering too far from the point. It put those ideas away to consider in its own time, despite the curiosity of how the Overseer had gone from a being made to Cull into one of... Hm... Compromises. Now that it had its own title of Overseer, those thoughts would become something it could allow itself to consider in depth. It had earned the right to fully question the world at large.

There, it lingered regardless as Master Vargas pressed it, discouraging the idea of killing its theoretical partner. The Garnet flicked an ear, studying those glowing green eyes to try and discern the why. It was baffled, to some degree, as it thought its logic made perfect sense. But its Master questioned, and so it answered, "When Palefur died, I was faced with a dilemma. I came from something that had failed to prove itself. It was surprisingly easy to doubt myself, when faced with the death of one who had come before me. I decided that I was not Palefur's child, but my own being... But it would have been quite easy to become trapped in the thinking that if Palefur failed, that I could fail as well, that my magic and form was flawed from the start."

Its whiskers twitched, as it absorbed the drawbacks of its plan that Master Vargas pointed out. Still, it lingered: if the apprentice had a parent outside of the Chaos Forge... Would it wonder if it truly belonged with the Forge, or with its other parent? Perhaps, that would be the true test of its loyalty. Was... Was that what Overseer Garnet-Delta was actually concerned about? Losing its apprentice's loyalty, in favor of some other Gembound? Of course it was. The thought made its tail twitch with the satisfaction of identifying its own weakness.

"I understand," it answered. But then, Master Vargas's next words were still punch to the throat: the Garnet should not get in the habit of killing anything considered "worthy". Was it an assassin if it only were to kill insignificant threats? Was its purpose not to kill those worth being deemed a threat? It held that thought on the tip of its tongue.

With that, Master Vargas told it to take its time. It came back to the present, and the thrum of self-satisfaction that was all too easy to find at its heart. With a nod, it answered, "I have much to consider." The Garnet purred softly, pushing itself to its paws. "Please feel free to send the others to train under me. I will seek out potential myself, but if there is someone in particular... Have them ask me." Something about the words made its fur tingle. "For now, I am satisfied. I'm sure there will be questions as I find my footing." It paused, and then raised its wings, prowling forward to rub its body against the outside of Vargas's forelimb as it rumbled. "Thank you again, Master Vargas." It was one of the only shows of affection it had ever offered to anyone, and promptly it turned away as though it had done nothing out of the ordinary and began to prowl away with tail held high.


@Vargas


 
 



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