set just after Incentive

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Most of them had come to him, after the meeting; had marched their way over, had their conversations, been given their instructions, and then moved on. It had proved... enlightening, for the most part.

He had too long neglected some of them--not only their (and oh, was this word losing its shine) training, but their talents, their skills, and their interests. Their strengths and weaknesses, their desires. He did not know them, and that had been a failing on his part.

When the day had wound away, drifting the hours from one face to the next, one voice to the next, and at last left him in dimmed silence, he considered. He ran back over all of the day's discussions--from the meeting and the death of Kethri to his assessments and orders for Khavur and Zoisite, for Aurelia and Nidhogg and the rest. Am I missing anyone? he thought, and his mind at once swept to a single face he'd made a note of in the meeting, but not yet spoken to: the Selenite.

Such potential, in that shape; yet it had, to his knowledge, no instructions and no duties. Had it even been (ah, here it came again-)-trained?

Hm.

It took him a few moments to find it, perched atop a rock and sharpening a knife. Vargas came to it at a slow but ground-eating stride, peering at the weapon--wondering where it had gotten it. Had it made it? Scavenged it? Commissioned it from some subterranean smith?

"V-Selenite-One," he greeted. He couldn't remember who this one's stonegiver had even been--it hadn't been one of his creations. Attikias's-? Did the elf even know, if that were the case? Does Erebos? he wondered. Did they know they were half-siblings, here among the other monsters? Again, a Hm.

"All of those without duties were instructed to report to me," he said, and his tone was as measured as his approach had been. The following question was genuine; he had no way of knowing if Cain had granted it some duty of which he was unaware. Or maybe the Orthoclase had left it with one, one it had chugged away at in the background, inconspicous, forgotten. "Have you already been assigned duties? Either way, I wish to speak."

@V-Selenite-One

Bright eyes pitched and fixed upward, hands hardly stilling in their work—sharpening was hardly a difficult task, except when it came time to actually examine the blade or ensure that the stone had been going with the grain of whatever metal (or gemstone, at times) was involved. Ears pricked. A barely-restrained hmm... ? of interest murmured from toothy lips and it shifted in place.

"Master Vargas," Selenite greeted in kind, swinging its legs over the edge of the womb-hole it was presently lounging in. It landed gracefully, half crouching and bracing itself on its bottom set of arms. It straightened to its full height with a casually dipped head. All four eyes remained fixed on the enormous Master as he spoke, unwavering from their place; whether that confidence was well-deserved or from a general air of carelessness was anyone's guess.

The kaijin twirled its knife (a glorified shard of chrysalis, as usual, but of diamond this time) between fingers and palm absently, and tossed its choice of sharpening block—a pebble—back into the hole in the wall. It held its tail limply, swaying between its legs just slightly.

Vargas had spoken, and it dipped its head in a nod after a moment's consideration. Selenite huffed the affirmative "yes" and licked at its chops. "I was waiting for the others to... finish," it said, idly peeling some unknown bit of gunk from between chitin with the points of its claws.

"My, um... assignment is no longer with us." A grimacing smile lined its jaws, and it tipped its head back to see the master better in all his looming, intimidating glory. The look quickly soured and sobered, and it continued. "Kethri had me carrying things around for her. Uh, moving, if she needed it. Protecting her and the Doctor if they asked." Which, the snide former never had. Following and protecting V-Chaos-Two while garden work was in session had been another story; one that it had ditched entirely, because Khavur was already there doing such a thing, more often than not—and likely much more effectively.

But, of course, V-Chaos-Two could protect itself and just had to during that... meeting.

The selenite fiddled again with a piece of chitin, avoiding the inevitable realization that most gatherings seemed to end in Chaotic destruction. Stay quiet and stay out of focus, eh? It crossed a set of arms over its chest, shifting weight onto either foot. Quills wobbled tellingly, and yet it wasn't Vargas it had any need to be coping with seeing or being near—Hell, it'd gone cycles barely saying a word to the Master without any consequence.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas hesitated, for a beat. He was half-tempted to menace the Selenite, old habit instigating a snarled warning for it to be more responsible next time, to find him sooner, but those urges had been ferocity born of warning. In those days, if they hadn't learned fast, someone else would teach them. Now Vargas was the one to teach--he would still grant his warning, but perhaps... not so harshly. But that wasn't why he hesitated.

He was wondering, instead, if the Selenite had been close to Kethri. If the reason it were out here, distracted, were grief, sorrow, loss. He studied its face, saw no sign--but could it express such things? He could not, with his rigid lips, his unbending and snag-toothed snarl of a grin. And what if it is lying-? he wondered; to blame one's previous inaction on the now-dead would be an excellent way to avoid punishment for said inaction, since he'd not be able to verify the truth. There'd have been no point in it, of course; he wasn't really punishing anyone for inaction, not if they hadn't actually been granted a task to fulfil and then simply not performed it. The only one fitting that description, so far as he knew, was Garnet-Epsilon; and that would be dealt with not by him, but by Overseer Cain. It was the possibility of the lie itself that interested him, but as he had no way of finding out, he set that aside, for now.

"I see," he began, studying it, eyes tracking the thrown pebble for a moment before swinging back to Selenite. "I have been finished with the others. It is your responsibility to follow up on what you are assigned, even if that is simply 'speak to me after the meeting if you have no duties.'" But rather than a snarled warning, a savage threat, these words were delivered with measured (if authoritative) calm.

Then Vargas moved on, shifting to settle on his haunches in an awkward, towering hunch.

"We have not spoken much, you and I. I do not know what training you were given, what your strengths are, where your weaknesses lie. I do not know your ambitions or your desires." It was much the same speech as he'd given the others--Zoisite and Khavur most of all. But the words weren't empty or indifferent; he was speaking with honesty. "This was a mistake on my own part, and one I intend to rectify. My goals in this discussion are to find out more about you. I will start with the basic questions: what have you been trained in, if anything? Do you have a specific task that you wish to perform?" He paused, to give the questions air for a moment, to allow the Selenite to think, or to answer.

"Do you hold opinions on the rules and punishments I've laid out today? Are you generally content within the Forge; is there anything that you would see changed?" It was... odd, for Vargas to be asking the opinions of all the rank and file. Or at least, it would have seemed so to those who'd known him in ages past. He was struggling with leadership. Overseeing, performing a set and controlling and savage task and using mere brutality on all those beneath him, had been easy. Enjoyable, even. The rules had been simple; and he'd simply enforced them. But inspiration and motivation, twinned with discipline, and the balance of them both-? Harder.

Much, much harder.

But Vargas was no fool, and as he studied the Selenite--the rise and fall of its quills, the shifts in its expression (it was capable, it seemed)--he realized that there was one other question that he should lay out.

"Were you close to Kethri-?" he asked, and though the question wasn't soft or gentle, nor was it demanding. If the Selenite were upset, he wanted to know--he would need to compensate, if it was, and to consider how to handle it.

@V-Selenite-One

Selenite nodded along mutely after that beat of consideration—not out of any sort of reticence or cloistered personality like a particular Overseer, but because there was little more to add but the affirmative. Its ears pitched backward and head dipped low to hide the slight frown on its lips, but that was about it.

Vargas moved on from that, doling out a veritable feast of statements and questions. It was a familiar sort of thing, despite the kaijin, again, scarcely sharing a word with the behemoth. He had entirely too much faith in his ilk's ability to grasp so much dialogue at once, and so the selenite hesitated to answer anything until he was finished.

And without hesitation, it blurted a brief "no" to any closeness to Kethri. "I did what she, uh, asked of me, and that was the…" it grasped for a word with a free hand, shifting its weight again, "extent of it." Its hand clutched back at a bicep once it was done, and Selenite cast its gaze downward. "Her death was… messy."

Nothing unusual, apparently.

It peered back up after a beat. Teeth worrying at its lower lip, it backtracked through its poorly compartmentalized working memory. An idle "hmm…" rattled its quills as it did so. (Asked after feelings, training, tasks, ah… no…)

"They seemed fair," it said easily. All that'd been laid out was punishment only for misbehavior and inaction—the latter apparently only now being in effect. The selenite had no intentions of stirring the pot, either positively or negatively. Note the lack of "happy" in the following, though: "I'm alright where I am, too."

Just coasting along.

Ever since—"and the… um, Over— Ex-Overseer… ? Taught us—me how to hunt, what to go for to kill… uh, self-defense." Bare minimum basics, really. It furrowed its brow. "Before it left," Selenite added, as if to clarify.

It'd not seen hide or hair of the hulking behemoth, and it, admittedly, rarely wondered where it'd gone to or if it even lived, yet. A passing blip on the radar. All of its attachment had been spent fairly quickly on chosen family, rather than its own clutchmates and Forge.

That's a whole new sidebar, though.

As for the last (well, the second) part: V-Selenite-One shrugged, "I did not mind moving things or helping the Doctor and Kethri."

It studied the floor for a moment, then Vargas hunching-over sitting, and—without thinking, as all species based on social mimicry do—imitated his pose. Of course, it was more squatting with its bottom set of arms braced against the floor while the upper gestured, but… "I like… uh, to make things." A beat of hesitation. "I can make a small… uh, floats-on-water thing. And fish—not very well, but..." The selenite nibbled its lip again. "I can sneak and hunt, but… I don't— um, see a need for… it..."

V-Selenite-One backtracked abruptly. "I can do anything you need me to." Simple enough, right? It peered up at Vargas, ears flicking back and forth.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

It was to his dismay that he thought he recognized some of Orthoclase-Alpha's utter indifference in this one. Its... apathy, its lack of true interest in anything. This was how it had started with Alpha, after all, wasn't it-? "Yes, I'm fine," no real interests to speak of, neither pleased nor displeased with quite literally anything. It had become gradually more difficult to wring out any sort of sincere or concrete response, until the beast was feral.

And-... They both had exoskeletons, didn't they? Maybe it was a feature of molting? This wasn't, in his mind, a flippant consideration--physical changes brought with them emotional, mental. Maybe there was a physiological link between the two--between shell and apathy, between Orthoclase and Selenite.

None of its statements expressed a personality beyond "amiable:" "I did what she asked." "I'm all right where I am." "I did not mind." "I don't see a need." "I can do anything you need me to." None, except one: "I like to make things." Had Alpha ever expressed such a singular sentiment--a single "like" for any one subject or activity? Vargas wasn't sure--couldn't remember. But he noted the Selenite's unspoken imitation of his posture, and he studied it.

"Can you show me some of the things that you make?" he asked. Perhaps when it came time to build, he could put this one with Attikias: crafting, creating, if that was its preference. Or maybe--like the others--it had unseen secrets, hidden skills he'd have to work to uncover.

That, he reflected, would be nice; it would give him more to work with, and maybe prevent a repeat of past disasters.

@V-Selenite-One

It nodded carefully.

The selenite shifted from squatting to half-standing, if only to hold out its admittedly rudimentary knife. It was something made purely of a diamond chrysalis shard, not even straight in shape, but if given enough elbow grease, could've been sharp-edged; but, peculiarly, it was sharp on just one edge and boasted no real handle. "I'd... uh, use it to cut food. Not kill anything," it explained, "my hands get messy tearing up meat and... um, it's hard to do it with..." A free hand gestured toward its face and the lack of a snout, even with tusk-like teeth jutting out.

If Vargas indicated himself as taking it for inspection, the kaijin wouldn't hesitate to hand it over.

"Um, the floats-on-water thing... uh... I do not have it anymore." Not that it belonged to it in the first place, and—"I made a long stick like Chaos-Tw—Maximus has. To fish with. The point had barbs on it so they wouldn't slip off." Quills flattened against its throat, though, and it absently twiddled its thumbs. "I left it... by the water. Somewhere."

In Leo, of course, but it quietly hoped that the Leviathan would not ask after it, or that he'd just request that it make another. Surely Pegasus had some manner of shells to work with for that... ?

"I don't keep a lot of it—what I make. Not when it isn't useful anymore."

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas listened with growing interest.

"You enjoy crafting?" he asked, almost... hopeful. He'd been hoping to find a blacksmith, or someone to train as one. Maybe an enchanter and a weaponsmith, too. Once upon a time he'd hoped Maximus would lean that way, but it hadn't happened and he had no intention of forcing them into roles they didn't want or like.

He gestured for the knife--to take it, examine it closely in one hand, and hand it back a moment later. He didn't know enough about weaponry to really gauge it, but it was a knife (confirmed) and that was good enough. "Tell me, Selenite-One," he said, mulling the words over along with the idea even as he spoke it; "would you have any interest in learning to forge?" (To Forge for the Forge, ha.) "I could find you training; you could create weapons, armor, and tools for those who require it. There is someone who could teach you, and perhaps you could even learn to enchant these objects with magic. It is a highly respected role and one that would gain you some fame, I think, among all the Forge. Is that something you might be interested in?" he sort-of repeated. He doubted that it cared for fame, much--most of them wouldn't--but he didn't know it enough to be sure. What was important was that he laid out all he knew so that it could accurately decide, and this was pretty much it.

It was always nice, finding a role in which someone would shine-something they'd enjoy, something they could do and do well and lose themselves in. A role that one would look forward to taking up, day by day, and take pride in their own work.

But was this a role for Selenite? Only it could say. "If you aren't sure, we could try it out."

And he wondered what the floats-on-water thing was, but--one question at a time. Right?

@V-Selenite-One

"You enjoy crafting?" It nodded almost meekly, akin to a child presenting their seeming life's work to an adult. Teeth worried unevenly at its lip, still, and a glimmering tongue swept over them in anticipatory listening. A hand stretched out to take the knife-blade back, and fingers worked idly to palm it, flip it around, and palm it again. Rinse and repeat. Keep its hands busy.

Selenite had not lied when it said that it would just do whatever Vargas asked of it,

But, something about fame and notoriety made the underside of its shell crawl. A slight frown twisted its features. Brows furrowed as it continued to fidget. Its tail thumped an uneven beat on the stone as it rocked back onto its haunches.

It tried after a moment's look of dismay and utter discomfort. "Would there be… something other than fame?" A hand came up to smooth down silvery quills.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas studied it closely. It was hard to miss the signs of discomfort, but it was possible to misinterpret them. But the frown, the quills--he was familiar enough, by now, with the quills. His own didn't raise and fall with his emotions, normally, but Orthoclase-Alpha's had and he knew that it was uncomfortable.

He responded with reassurance, but also with amusement. "You do not wish fame-? You do not need to become well known. It is only that good work is sought after, and there are not many who can do it. As for what else there would be? Satisfaction, I suppose. Joy in a job well done, or contentment in the work itself. I would prefer," he went on, and pushed up to do a slow, pacing turn around the room, speaking as he moved. It was a thoughtful tone, a thoughtful movement, too. "I would prefer that the Forge members each find something that they enjoy," he explained. "It is not enough to find something that you are capable of. You ought to have passion for it; to enjoy it. If you think you would like to create, but not be well-known, we can arrange that. But if you are unsure... we could visit the Blacksmith," he suggested, "and see? You might try your hand at it to figure out whether it is 'for you,' or not."

Vargas was, aside from Selenite's discomfort, relatively pleased with himself. His skillset had been gauging strengths and weaknesses, as Overseer. But matching "his people," as he was coming to think of them (in a sort of happy managerial sense) to suitable work--work at which they'd both excel and find contentment--was both an unexpected and pleasing new application of it.

He only hoped that he would not have members who had no passions: like the Alpha, for example.

At least most of these knew what they enjoyed.

@V-Selenite-One

Once again, the selenite found itself bobbing its head along with Vargas's words, but it wasn't out of minimal response or one-note acknowledgement; its ears were pricked forward, and glimmering eyes trailed his every movement with something resembling interest. If making could be considered an occupation… then perhaps V-Selenite-One would try it. The fact that it may come with knowledge of new things was ample enough of a bonus, it realized, to push an idea to I'm down for it territory.

It pushed up to stand—once again involuntarily mimicking the purple behemoth—and gave a more final dip of the head. "I can try it." Not a want or like, but… eh, let the slight flash of a grin speak for that. "Making… um, for the Forge and… this— Blacksmith?"

… whoever that was. V-Selenite-One's asocial and unaware ass had no clue.

@Vargas