Backdated to before the start of Cry Havoc

- THE LEVIATHAN -

The newest creation--the one intended for his Lord Dhracia--had spent much time slinking around the empty chambers and old bones. Vargas was aware of its presence there, and had been studying its growth (so to speak) closely. He did not fear for the creature ruining his careful preservation and arrangement of skeletons to gemstones, as he'd already withdrawn those oilstones that still held promise, setting them aside with marks on the stone beside them to note which was which. They were committed to memory, now, and he had no need of retaining the skeletons in careful formations.

It was time, instead, to focus on the living.

V-Chaos-Four had been given a cycle or so to acclimate itself to existence: to gain a more graceful control of limbs, to be taught to hunt, to drink water and to swim, to fly. Vargas hadn't fully tested its linguistic capabilities nor had he formally trained it; this, he felt, was somewhat overdue.

He twined now through the ruined pods, the dessicated chrysalises that formed a macabre catacomb around the Womb along the cave's rear wall. Their shattered surfaces had held Chaos-Four itself and it was here that the beast often seemed to return: whether out of boredom or some other fascination, Vargas did not know. But his clawed limbs carried him with swift grace among the shattered stones, acidic eyes splitting the shadows for any sign of his creation.

"Chaos-Four?" he called out, pausing to briefly take scent on the air. His magic reached out, but failed him, no heartbeat pulse rushing to meet his sight. With a grumble of annoyance Vargas paced forward, hoping to find the creation with his more mundane senses.

@V-Chaos-Four

V-Chaos-Four

The bones and chrysili had drawn it in for no other reason than the shifting shadows and colors. The shadows hurt less, the colors like their own stone and hide, they had originally taken time to pick their way around the many arranged skeletons- judging that the dead, if given mind by Master Vargas, would be given mind by them.

Chaos-Four had been curled in the coolest corner they could find, tail flicking back and forth as it considers... life, in general, and it's wings, and the differences between them and their groupmates, and Overseer. Quite the one to have a colorful internal monologue, when not holding back it's instinct to strike at the first living things with the misfortune to meet it.

Noises of another moving through the catacombs has their head lift, and eyes all narrow, as it attempts to ascertain the whereabouts of whomever was approaching before being seen itself. The bright form of Master Vargas in the almost halls where it read makes it's skin crawl, slightly, and it's magic flows out around it like so much heavy smoke, and it decides it's approach.

Being called cements the decision for them, and so they make their way closer, a low, inquisitive hissing-rumble in it's chest the only indicator of it's approach. Maybe. Diceboy?


@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

It did not speak to acknowledge him, which was not a good sign. But then, this wasn't intended to be a creature to remain here, to kneel before him, to serve. It would have no master, where it would be going.

"We are going to train. I am going to teach you a few things. Do you understand?" he asked it bluntly, staring at it.

Was this one verbal or had he made another mistake? Was it feral, perhaps, or nearly so? He hoped it would grasp words, no matter how few. If not, he could control it, while driving it to heights of chaotic aggression which could only please his Lord.

Either worked for him.

@V-Chaos-Four