So, Vander Desert Rose was about. What else did he have to do, recently? Watch over some other kid that didn't know what it was doing? He'd be getting back to work soon, he imagined, but for now he had nothing to do but go in circles.

To keep his mind away from thinking, he focused on cleaning duties. Sure, something like this could be delegated to someone else, and he sure as hell wasn't going to clean up any bodily sort of thing- but he could keep the dwellings clean. Debris was snatched in the foredigit and thumb on his paws and swiped outside, tossed into a flat pile of items. He'd curled his tail about and set to dusting off the empty abodes, pushing the grimy Draco-flavored dirt out the doors. It was a job rather unbecoming of a Champion.

Someone had to do it. And, it's not like anybody told him to do it, so... eh. There wasn't much to clean yet, but it still let him focus on the task instead of wallowing in his head for the millionth time that day.

Like using a broom, the desert rose continued to push out the piles of dust into one neat pile, shaking out his tail and cording his talons through it to get everything out of it. With a casual air about himself, Desert tugged at the thread of chaotic magic, aiming it for the pile while he turned to sit near it. Something linked- there was a connection, but as he stared at it, he didn't find anything of note particularly.

Desert smacked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, glowering down at the pile, as if that'd make it go away.

@Vargas

backdated to shortly after this thread, which in turn is set a bit after this one!

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Well.

That had certainly been fucking something. Vargas was half annoyed he hadn't been there to see the Creator in person, half absolutely relieved. It probably wasn't smart to want to be there. Not after what he'd discussed with Lord Dhracia, certainly. Yet there was some large part of Vargas that still wanted to gleefully revel in the presence of such power, such destruction.

Such decimation.

Apparently the Creator had been present for only seconds--a peak into this reality through the briefest of windows--and yet he'd obliterated the room and everyone in it with sprays of pure corruption. He almost envied those who'd been struck by it--returned to their stones to come out, undoubtedly, more touched than they had before.

But his main reason for going had been to check over the Sentinell's chrysalis. It was intact--it had life in it and, for some bizarre reason, the halberd had been embedded in the stone. This had puzzled him: usually the chrysalis ejected such things. But perhaps His magic was working something strange; Vargas didn't know.

There had, of course, been one other important task to attend to in the palace: the retrieval of a chair. Aethril had suggested that they should have one for her in Draco and so he'd pestered Isra for a spare, and now he hauled it back under one arm and set it near the Spire. If they'd finished reading lessons he'd have sat a note on it: "DO NOT EAT, MELT, OR OTHERWISE DESTROY: PROPERTY OF THE HAND." But unfortunately, they hadn't; he had to just hope Draconua didn't run across the thing, and he'd warn everyone else not to touch it.

The third point was Desert Rose Thirty-Five. Aethril had discussed, at length, the members of the Forge and what Vargas strongly suspected was her fear that, unless they moved quickly to advance, the Creator would come smashing in fist-first and grind them all to Oiled nothing. She'd asked what he had, what he needed, and whether he had anyone promising and then, once she'd learned that Vander was his only Champion of Hydra, had asked to see him.

Ahh-... here. The Desert Rose was standing near the little habitations, staring at something on the ground. Vargas glanced over quizzically as he strode up, but he could see nothing of interest. "Desert Rose Thirty-Five," he said, calling out as he drew close, as he stopped; "We need to speak--I trust you have a moment? It is important."

That was, in Vargas's amused estimation, his biggest understatement of the cycle.

@Vander

While Vargas had his meeting and knowledge, Desert had, ah- ... not much. A pile of dirt? In any case, he certainly wasn't aware of the Actual Fucking Creator dropping in for a nice visit, currently focused on more physical tasks ahead of him.

His eyes flicked up at Vargas's approach. While he wasn't looking for an excuse to start or stop working, a knot still tied up inside of him, a familiar unease at the unknown of what Vargas wanted of him. Were the chrysalises hatching? Desert Rose clenched his jaw for a moment, standing up taller with his legs stacked underneath himself.

He still had held thought on getting rid of the dirt, but the last sentence hung in his mind. It's important. Was it bad? He'd have to take it whether it was or wasn't, so he just nodded once to Vargas's question, briefly studying his face as if it held a clue for the immediate future. "What is it?" The claws of his wings shuffled over his shoulders once, rustling the cape-like limbs behind them briefly.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas got straight to the point, with a single stern nod to the Desert Rose.

"The Creator made an appearance--a particularly devastating appearance--in Cepheus. Anyone in the room with Him was chrysalized. The Hand there--Aethril--came by; she is..." Vargas hesitated. Telling anyone, literally anyone, "I think the Hand is scared" or even "nervous"--if it got back to her she'd likely kill him. He had to phrase it carefully. "The Hand may be concerned that our current progress is not enough for Him. I am well aware we've been advancing but the Creator is the god of Chaos, and we do not want to tempt that. To get to the point: she was searching for ways to quickly improve and advance."

Vargas paused, took a breath, and studied Vander. "I spoke highly of you, told her you were a Champion, and said that you are future Overseer material, in my mind. She wishes to see you, I think to evaluate you for herself. You are to report to her in Cepheus."

The Leviathan paused, debating whether to simply urge Vander on his way--but no, there must be warnings. "I warn you that I do not know Aethril very well but so far she appears... relatively fair. A Hand of Chaos, yes. Prone to violence, but treat her with respect and she should treat you with the same. Do you have any questions?" he asked.

@Vander

When the first words out of your superior's mouth is that your god had touched ground mere hours away, your first thought might be one of skepticism. When had he ever known Vargas to lie? Was today the day? No- It took a few long moments for it to set in, but when it set in, it set in hard. The Creator had visited.

And they weren't doing enough. Aethril's concern was founded in truth- what had they to show, some paultry valkhound every four cycles? Pitiful. Desert's breath caught in his throat as his chest clenched, eyes wide as he already thought over and over of what this meant. The Creator. Right. Breathing in deeply, Desert Rose recentered himself, forcing himself to bare the air of someone who wasn't racked with anxiety at the mere thought of it. Cool. He's got this in the bag.

Despite his worries dominating his mind, Vargas's mention of Overseer did not fly over his head. His eyes widened again- then back to normal, as he stood even straighter, claws lightly digging into the hard, pulsing rock below.

To report directly to the manager of your own overseer, well... It was either something very good, or very bad. If she wished to evaluate him on Vargas's high praises then, well, he could only hope for the former. He had seen her- seen her power, the flippant destruction of that owl cycles ago. It thrummed with her and her entourage- was he to join that pantheon? He nodded his head lightly to Vargas's warnings. "I am aware of her disposition, as far as she's shown in our previous meetings." She was fair enough, yes- it was fair that that owl died for what it had done. Then, in turn, would it be fair for his promotion? No- he had to stamp out that ambition before he made it there.

Desert Rose's ears pinned back for a brief moment, considering. "I don't think I have any. ... no, I do. Do you know what to expect from the meeting, other than 'evaluation'?" The Champion's head barely tilted to the left, self-concern plastered onto his face. What was he getting himself into? His chest still wound itself up as he struggled to place a claw on it, afraid for what was to come. He was almost afraid of the attention he was about to receive, of the direction he could be given.

Then again, hadn't he joined the Forge for purpose? What should he have to fear? That he was going to be turned inside out, as an example to all the other Champions who didn't return?

Perhaps he shouldn't let his thoughts linger on that.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas considered for a moment.

"She spoke of using Hydra again. Making more use of it, which admittedly! We have been leaving it mostly untouched. But we have had no one to test. She suggested recruiting the Gembounds with promises of rewards and testing them for viability. You know nearly as much of Hydra as I; she may ask you of it. She also suggested seeking out other old Champions, but I have my doubts on that front--she does not know that most, I think, would be quite reluctant. What do you think of the idea?" he asked, studying the Desert Rose. "Of all of it?"

If Vander could prepare them... just as he trained the children, then perhaps they'd find some use in the Hand's idea. Though Vargas, himself, had doubts as to the value of the Gembounds and their willingness to participate.

But now the decision, at least in part, rested on Vander's shoulders. Vargas was genuinely asking his opinion: did he think they ought to reopen Hydra at once, to return to Trials and testing? Should they use the Gembounds? Should they seek out other Champions? It was Vander's chance to help shape some of this-... to Vargas, and likely later on, to Aethril as well.

@Vander

Vander listened, internalizing the idea of using Hydra again. More trials? "I don't know how viable the Gembounds may be. What would you plan on doing with them when they survive? Those who ran the trials before were for... testing designs. All we could do with the random spawns would be seeing what works in the desert and... essentially polishing a piece of limestone you'd found on the ground." In lieu of pacing, the dragon's claws tapped at the stone at his feet, his gaze dropping in thought.

"Breeding between the survivors is a gamble. It may take on the best of their abilities, or the worst. Some would be averse to the concept. While it is something we could do, do we even have the appropriate stock to run more trials? We had the ones before, but... what happened with those survivors? They were altered, and I haven't seen anything of them since."

He couldn't help himself from moving in place, pacing to his side then back in a small radius. "The other Champions from before- I haven't seen much of them, either. No contact with my brother, not even a hint as to where the others are- they could be in chrysalises, for all we know." Stopping, he breathed in deeply, eyes shutting for a brief moment. "While I could see running trials for the Forge itself, or for the Gembounds who are ambitious enough to want some sort of recognition, I'm not sure why we'd run it on the latter if it means they'd just be free to go afterwards." Vander's tail swayed as he resumed pacing, circling around the pile of dirt he'd gathered up before. It was rather dramatic- except, it was undercut by the utterly small size of himself and the fact that he was just sweeping minutes before.

"I would suggest some form of.. entry fee, a donation of their gem before entering, but I doubt the magic would stay within the stones for the duration of the trial. Besides, the fee is them risking their lives anyways, when it's up to them to enter freely. So- hm. An offer to join the Forge with rewards for surviving? But, they would already get rewards for surviving if you went with changing their form. A choice between the two, and I'd bet the Gembound would take mutation over position." He was practically just talking to himself at this point. His talons clicked on stone as he went around and around, wing-paws tense at his shoulders. "However, a trial would prove well if you wanted inspiration for further creations. But we're limited on that front- Draco is... empty, and has been for a while. We simply don't have enough Masters creating anymore for us to hold a trial just for that, even with you and-" Abruptly, he came to a stop, and looked back up at Vargas.

"... sorry, I'm rambling. It's... I know it's not my place to- sorry." He huffed out, jaw clenched for a moment. He didn't need to go on a rant about the lack of Masters and activity about. They both knew it, and Vargas was doing what he could. "But even then, one pair alone cannot hold up the nest, no matter how hard you'd push. At least, not if your attention is diverted to something that'll ultimately not do much. If there was purpose to the trials, if the Gembound were willing to take the reward in the Forge's ranks, then it'd be viable."

He sucked in a breath through his teeth. "But as it stands..." His shoulders dropped. "I don't know. I don't know if it was ever intended for Cain to oversee a trial, or if it's a good pursuit to try and reform the Gembound population. They were simply... raised too differently, for the Forge to- well, reforge them, not without a lot of effort." The claws of his thumbs scratched into the oilstone. "Perhaps Aethril has an answer. Perhaps she just wants to cull the herd. If she wants a trial, who are we to say no?"

Vander's gaze studied Vargas in turn, his teeth clenching together again. He was but a pawn, not the one to decide everything- but when his opinion was asked for, at least he gave it in earnest. Even if it meant more unskippable cutscenes.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas listened, attentively and in silence, until the point where Vander apologized twice in a matter of seconds.

Then, he laughed--loud, hearty and good-natured. "I asked your thoughts, and you are giving them. You need not apologize for that." He waited for the moment it took for Vander to finish off his thoughts, and then he considered.

"She wants more warm bodies. You point out flaws in the general idea, which is good, but that does not mean it's impossible, I think. It does mean that your mind is refining what we would require. A gamble, yes, but in order to test new designs, we do need new designs. I like your idea of an entry... Perhaps if we offer them some form of reward in return for surviving Hydra and then granting us children--even random spawns--we will find one or two decent new forms to work with." He'd been thinking about bipedal creatures, in particular, given the Deathmatch results, and now he gave a little hum of thought. "I want two-legged beasts where possible, with weapons, for further testing on that shape--given the Deathmatch. That revealed interesting results. But no, I do not want to risk our own people in there! We need more, not less. I will think on it, and perhaps Aethril and yourself might discuss it--if she brings it up," he added. "You asked what to expect and I think she might mention it, so it seemed wise to discuss it with you beforehand. Go, talk to her. And then come back and let me know what you discussed! Although--if you wish to stop in the palace and get a meal with Nedies, first, certainly feel free. You might be tired after that journey and that talk."

How very considerate he was.

@Vander

Vargas's laugh startled him, just for a brief moment. Something about the act broke a wall in him, and he gave a single 'heh', smiling for a moment with a sidelong look. "Nerves," he excused, shaking his head. But, still. The digits of his wing-paws tapped at his shoulders. "What about something with less risk, so we could still use the designs that show promise in specific areas? Hydra admittedly favors sustainability over a quick sprint." He shook his head again. "I'll think on it on the way over, but- I think I've got my mind set straight on it, at least."

Leaning back, Vander stretched out his wings and flexed his muscles, readying himself to launch off. "Thank you for asking. I might've run my mouth off with my thoughts if I didn't get them out now." Actually, he definitely will. Ah, well. "A meal'd be nice. I'll try not to be long." Vander's spine arched up as his bones subtly popped, long wings fluttering in place.

He paused for a split second, glancing to the dust, before stepping over it and leaving it. It was outside, and so it was where it belonged. "Be back soon." He hesitated for any word of Vargas's before bounding forward and shoving off. He gave a few hard flaps and swooped down, locking in for the journey to Cepheus. What else would Aethril discuss with him? Had Vargas's words impressed her enough?

There was a lot for him to mull over while he made his way over, then.

;possibly exit vander
@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas offered a grunt, and a final bit of advice for his Champion.

"Just do not mention anything unless she invites you to. Or hint at it, but do not start to go into depth until invited. A Hand--even for a Master--is to be spoken to when invited, and never otherwise." How had that little cultural quirk come up? Vargas didn't know. Vargas didn't care. Vargas just didn't like the prospect of being permanently melted into an inside-out puddle of Oil and gore.

"Go, then, he said, a friendly enough dismissal and--"Oh, and Desert Rose-? Good luck." There was humor in it.

He didn't really think Aethril would hurt Vander. In fact, it was interesting to consider that perhaps the Chaos Forge was--with the Valkhand--at a stronger bargaining position at the moment. They were the strongest and best this Nest had to offer; she was far less likely to melt one of them now than if they'd been busily overpopulated and thriving.

Not that he would test it.

exit Vargas; @Vander (for vis!)