Vargas had spotted the additional chrysalids, and caught the recent scent of a few of the Sentinels. He suspected that--given their rapidly-increasing size--these were the work of Orthoclase-Alpha (and they'd better have been; he certainly hadn't given that layabout Ruby-Beta permission to reproduce, yet).

He looked them over; the selenite was curious. It wasn't Thirty-Five's-? Was it? That would be a... bizarre choice, though perhaps Desert had convinced Orthoclase to give it this chance, for some reason. Vargas snorted, amused; if Desert Rose had managed, then it was his victory to take. The bizarrely-watermelon-esque gem, the Zoisite--that one, he knew, had been the Collector's gift. And Vargas knew of a few of those, any of whom would have made good children; he hoped it was one of the decent ones.

Claws traced along one edge, and he turned to look back at the two large, slickly oily, black stones he'd left, himself, earlier this same day. He had decisions to make. He disliked the 'Sentinels'' naming scheme. Some masters did not at all care what their creations were called. Others gave them individual names. Vargas, as Overseer, hadn't really had the luxury of deciding their fates and thus, had given them a stone-number designation until they'd proven themselves.

But now-? He was debating getting rid of that system altogether--finding a new one; but in order to abrogate the first, he had to find a replacement, a second one.

Hmm.

He became aware of Orthoclase-Alpha's presence, then, and he turned, blinking. "Ahh, there you are. I wanted to ask; who or what provided this selenite?" It wasn't rudely-demanded; it was matter-of-fact. Vargas was curious, for now, and little more.

@Orthoclase-Alpha

A little further down the way, the orthoclase had snared a stray scale deer for itself. The poor thing'd wandered out of the terrific wastes and practically fallen straight into its teeth. Jugular first and everything - perhaps with a bit of encouragement from a thousand and a half pounds of weight and claws. The point was that it'd been quick, and Alpha was making a return to the ledge just outside the Sentinels's Warren. It could've easily taken the Lesser then and there, but it preferred to rip it in half. Less choking, that way.

Also, it was easier to pick of the pointy bits when you had a surface to work on. Lot of work for one little thing.

It seemed Vargas was in the office; he took near-immediate notice of its presence. Ignoring the feeling of something crawling beneath its chitin, the kaiju dipped its head in acknowledgement. At the bottom of the bow, the deer thump!ed into the sand. "Master Vargas," it chirped automatically. Hopefully, the Lesser was gemless and wouldn't turn to Oil - like those chrysalises, it thought, taking stock - in the time of this exchange. Not that it had any opinion in how long such a thing went on for.

Radioactive eyes shifted briefly to the shiny-white stone named selenite, then back to its Master. "A two-legged Gembound with - erm, hands? It called itself Attikias," Alpha reported, then tacked on, "I left a chrysalis in Cetus, too, near the entrance. The stone's from one of the black swamp creatures." That one, it didn't know the name of - and, it belatedly realized it'd never introduced itself before requesting a spar as it usually did. Quills pricked in internal annoyance. It flared its nostrils, and shook itself. There was at least a little bit of deer blood on its teeth.

Ah. It glanced down at the deer briefly, and shuffled back a few paces. In case Vargas wanted, like, a free meal.

@Vargas

Vargas' eyes widened a touch--all six of them--in surprise, at the description. Vargas offered a nod to the Orthoclase as it pushed up from its bow, and glanced to the dead deer--taking it in--then to the selenite. "Violet-skinned, dark-haired?" he asked, and then looked to Orthoclase-Alpha again. "Tell me about it; why did you choose it?"

If it were the creature he was thinking of--soft, but with arms, hands; a hunter even from its hatching--then the results could be interesting. But left to chance, too, risky. Within this stone, he knew, there might be a mighty, armored, bipedal hunter with ever-useful hands forming; or it might be a soft-skinned, thin beast shaped like Alpha but a fraction of its size. That method of reproduction was... clumsy, he thought, at best. (Little did he know, of course, the results of his own attempts.)

"I've also taken one of the beasts in Cetus for my own uses. Our Creator, Orthoclase-Alpha, favored certain traits. Or it might be better to say, is associated with them. I wish to pay homage, as it is he who has elevated me to Master, now. Black and oily skin, the glowing eyes you and I share... With luck, our offspring--these spawn," he explained, gesturing to them all, "will be powerful symbols, ravagers created in His name and echoing His favored shapes. We will see," he added.

Master Vargas turned, and paced to his own chrysalises, tapping them one by one. Both were oily black, and both were already spreading and growing. "You know little of our past, but the Masters have not always cooperated. There is a rule, here: the strong rule the weak. The survivors mold the future. At times, all of us--any of us--would hunt, kill, usurp, betray, in order to better our own station. It was not... good, on the whole, for such things to get out of hand--to allow that would have been to weaken this entire nest. But if one of us died, well, then clearly we did not deserve our position," Vargas explained. His voice was low, rough, and measured. "And there were times when even the Masters fought about which direction to move. Jupiter was one of those who betrayed, and she hunted, at times." A claw tapped the nearest stone. "I do not know which of her victims this was; but to die to a Master is not so great a dishonor. They would have stood little chance against her. And their stone's presence in her collection suggests loyalty to the Creator, and so I have offered this one life. This other is my own creation, Orthoclase-Alpha."

There was pride in Vargas' eyes as he turned to stare at his spawn. "My first. A powerful beast--though there's room for error--created to wreak havoc. It will emerge fully-grown, and you will be tasked, at least in part, with training it in my absence. By 'absence' I mean whilst I am throughout the caves on my own business," he explained, "I would name you my Overseer--and that means you can choose a name of your own, if you want it," Vargas added, and despite little fanfare having led up to this announcement, he turned to face Orthoclase-Alpha squarely.

"I do not need to TELL you that is a great honor. It is granted on a base of necessity, yes," he went on--for there were really no other decent candidates, and he required assistance in embarking on projects of this magnitude now--"But it is granted also on a base of achievement. Do not think it is out of necessity alone; you have earned it. You will continue to earn it," he added, in a growl. A warning, of sorts, or was it assurance-?

The Master turned, gesturing to the chrysalids.

"We will train them, and test them. If they are skilled, they will be the bulk of our core force, and help train those in the future. But all of them will answer to you, Overseer," and Vargas looked pointedly back at Alpha. "Congratulations."

For a moment Vargas loomed, towering and staring down; and then he lowered himself to his haunches, getting down to business. "Now, we have several decisions to make, and I would like your input." It was, perhaps, to be a test as much as a request for ideas--but Vargas did want its judgment, for both purposes.

@Orthoclase-Alpha

Alpha nodded, squinting some. He's met it before? No matter; the orthoclase cut to the chase, "it wielded a spear." Pause. Ah. "It's the one that I told you about in Tunnel N. We sparred later, and it seemed strong enough." As for the product, the kaiju hoped: "an armored creature with hands might be able to wield weapons. I thought it might spawn something on two legs or something like my stone-giver. Either would be useful, I think." To both train and potentially have training, later on. Variety in shapes and uses was good... right?

It abandoned its meal, for the moment, and plodded after its Master. Eyes glanced over the oily-black chrysalids as he spoke, and it nodded mutely. If either of the swamp-beasts were utter failures, they at least could be symbols of their Creator (and it wondered who exactly that was, but perhaps the crawling shadows and ancient voice from the Altar... ?) The orthoclase blinked, slowly. Icons of ancient days it hadn't lived though, but was bringing back...

There'd been implications of conflict in the past - Jupiter's separation from the rest, missing Masters, caves yet cordoned off. Being brutal and overpowering had, of course, not been implied. It was suggestion and direct orders to be that way. Preparations for a return to that. None of this was the point of Vargas's speech, though. He'd just been explaining the source of the particular stone he was touching - a dead loyalist, maybe. It nodded, then fixed on the other chrysalis.

"This other is my own creation, Orthoclase-Alpha." It blinked. It made sense, what with the immense size of the chrysalis - if it stared for long enough, Alpha swore it could see the shell expanding to host the beast. It'd already outpaced the other. Vargas tasked it with training this one, too, and - "I would name you my Overseer."

Electricity surged through its body, making every muscle seize painfully at once. Oh. Toxic eyes tore from the Oily stone and darted right for its Master's. The deer-in-headlights look was plain as day, even with limited expression. It swallowed, clenching its jaw as if that'd keep the sudden influx of something in until it could dissect it. (Excitement? Eagerness? Anxiety? Confusion? Dread!?) Blinking once or twice, Alpha failed to smooth down its agitated ruff. It certainly wasn't going to turn the promotion down - it dipped its head deeply and answered with a "thank you, Master." - but... it felt shaky. Elated, on cloud nine, maybe? It hoped that was the case.

Names (oh.) could come later, when it wasn't so... frazzled or caught off guard. One thing at a time, and its Master was still addressing it - a... Overseer. "I will not disappoint you," it assured... for Vargas or itself?

The orthoclase stuffed all of that down and tucked it away for later consideration. It stared up towards Vargas, blinking once more and nodding for the four hundredth time - "what is it?" Input with a shaky grasp on its apparent new authority, it could manage that.

@Vargas

Vargas grunted, glancing around.

"First, where to train them. Where to base. I do not think this tunnel will be suitable for what I have in mind. When the old northern caves are reopened--and that should be soon--we may be able to pick a location there. Until then, I want you to think of other places we can train. The arena is an obvious choice; but there are others, as well."

It seemed a not-very-important point, particularly since, given his inflection and tone, Vargas seemed both willing and eager to return to whatever lay behind the blocked-off caves. But he continued, gaze swinging back to Alpha--and if he noticed the new Overseer's trepidation he did not mention it (nor anything else Alpha had said, perhaps because there wasn't much to say).

"Second, I want to decide on my own naming convention. In the past, the Masters might have had their own ways; some earned names quickly, some were named, some were not. As Overseer, I offered only rapid designations to keep up with pace and to avoid any attachment. Names were earned. I think that is still a good motivation; to gain your own place, you must earn it, as you have." He nodded Alpha's way.

He made no mention of Orthoclase's prior... incidents, like the whole "spider thing" or "dragging the angry dragons back to Canis." Apparently, that had all been just peachy. "The stones and numbers were suitable enough, but if we reuse them I wish to add to them. Something we can use as designations in quick conversation, so it can't be too complex. Something... pronounceable, so it cannot be amalgamations of letters added together, either," he added, thoughtful. "I have earned the right to name them how I wish--it is another way I might exercise my influence, do you understand? But as my new right hand I would ask you if you hold any thoughts on the topic. If you have any ideas," he clarified.

His gaze drifted off again, then, ranging over the chrysalids, and he nodded to the selenite. "I will be interested to see if you are right. That method of reproduction is clumsy, but it has yielded interesting fruit, yourself among them. It has potential."

@Orthoclase-Alpha

This was a nice distraction, even if it was... well, wholly unused to having any opinions of its own to voice. Perceived strictness'd left it with surprisingly little independence, and it showed with the long period of hesitation and consideration before Alpha even began to suggest for the first question, "Eridanus might suit your - our needs." (It felt strange to use the word our.) "It could be used to train them to hunt, fight, and hide in difficult and close terrain." The kaiju's head swung towards the chrysalises, "especially if they're large." As per usual, Alpha didn't pick up on Vargas's enthusiasm or other ambiguous expressions.

Names, again - "to gain your own place, you must earn it, as you have." Quills pricked, much like the casual twitch of a hide. It made a small noise of consideration in regard to naming conventions, and admitted, "if you did not give them designations, I was going to refer to them by their stones." As was common practice with miscellaneous spawn that was picked up (see: Bloodstone.) It hadn't thought much further, on the off chance that there might be duplicates - such as now. Toxic-green eyes roved over the Oily stones, for a moment. "I don't know what could be added," not... immediately, anyways.

It huffed about the Selenite (I hope I'm right and it's not a complete failure.) and glanced at the more watermelon-like of the chrysalises. "That one will be a surprise," Alpha grunted, "Algol didn't show me what it looked like, before." Did I report her name? In case it hadn't, it added, "she was a Champion named... Athelia?" That seemed... right... Hm.

@Vargas

There was silence, for the most part, from Vargas whilst his Alpha spoke. In his mind, he ran over Eridanus. He had dismissed it; it wasn't particularly defensible, if it came down to it, and in his mind, its terrain was far from 'difficult.' But the Orthoclase had a point about cover; and Vargas realized, with some amusement, that its bulk likely left it the brute shoving through thick foliage rather than the hunter using it to its advantage. This was in part why he, himself, did not think of Eridanus as any sort of challenge: he could see the heartbeats of others through the leaves, and stalk in slender-limbed silence through the trees.

As for designations, then, he'd have to think harder on that; and he set his mind to that, sort of 'in the background,' letting his subconscious mull it over and relegating it to "deal with that later." When Alpha named the Zoisite, however, six toxic eyes sprang wide.

"Athelia! That bitch!" he cried, with a sharp shake of his head, and then glanced to Orthoclase. "I refer to the Collector, not her--she was a powerful champion, yes, and..." (And he looked over Alpha, and offered the next sentence in a sort of begrudging admission) "...And not entirely unsuited to your form. Strong, but quick, and armored. But she was-..." He gestured with one hand, grimacing. "Upside-down. That bastard. I told him no tricks! There's no knowing how that will come out," he added, glancing with a grimace at the Zoisite. A perfectly good design, potentially ruined; if it came out half upside-down, half right-side up, unable to move... "I will have words with Algol," he growled, and felt a little sting of satisfaction at this. The Collector had offered that little trick after Vargas had explicitly told him not to; and now he was a Master. He wondered if Algol were fretting, worrying about what Vargas might do. He doubted it; the slimy bastard would probably insist with his oily 'silver' tongue that it was a serious, honest choice. And Vargas couldn't even really fault him for it--though it was a risk, the Zoisite wasn't a bad match at all. ...If it worked.

He shook his head, and looked to Orthoclase again. "If it works, it could be one of your most powerful spawn. If it comes out... deformed, it will be useless. Algol must have known this. He is ever a foul trickster," he added with a growl. "In any case, Eridanus is not particularly difficult terrain, but it could be useful for training movement in cover. I'd prefer somewhere open so we don't lose rebellious spawn so easily when they're young. I will think on it--so will you," he added; "Perhaps we should take Monoceros back from the dragons."

After a moment he began again, thinking. "It may be best to use the old system--stone and number--but with a modifier. To indicate the new generation, such as... V, for version, and for Vargas, yes? So if a new Orthoclase hatches, it would be V-Orthoclase-One? It is simple enough," he added, mulling it over. He doubted they'd run into any stone-number duplicates anyway, but the V could serve as a differentiator just in case. And he'd so long ago lost track of which number they must be up to--sleeping tended to have that effect--that starting over was rather a necessity.

"Stones like mine will be designated Chaos. V-Chaos-One, for example. What are your thoughts?"

@Orthoclase-Alpha

No immediate response to Eridanus — but certainly to the zoisite. Alpha's quills pricked sharply, both at the unfamiliar swear and simply being reactive to its Master's state of being. Annoyed was the current one. Upside-down—?! She'd been described as strong and capable despite that, unless that'd been a false sales pitch. It stared at the watermelon-like chrysalis. Subconsciously, it knew that not all three of them could be winners. Ruby-Beta of the original litter was capable and in peak physical form, but had quite the attitude problem. Titanite seemed… slow, but strong. No perfection — not even in itself.

Even still, they could try to fix broken spawn. The orthoclase did not yet realize that reformation stunted growth, but it offered regardless, "forcing them into a chrysalis might help reduce the waste." Apparently, at times, it spawned a bipedal stance and hands. Alpha'd been convinced for a while that this was always the case. Reemerging perfectly as itself proved otherwise. For the moment, it didn't think that much about the ethics of beating one into a chrysalis to fix their problems. Didn't have the chance to, considering the mention of Monoceros.

Not at all meaning to insult the power Vargas now held, it asked, "would we wait for these spawn?" Inhale. "It might … be a good way for them to prove themselves." The dragons had numbers, but they would soon, as well. It was just a matter of bringing them down from the skies.

As for designations, Alpha quite literally had no thoughts about it. "It seems efficient," it answered, quills pricking. Like the designations of old, where each stone was just another in the series. Simple enough, and much better than Greek numerals — not that Alpha had any qualms about it.

@Vargas

"'Reduce the waste?'" he asked, glancing to Alpha with mild confusion. He was unsure what his new Overseer meant by that.

As for the suggestion of waiting for the spawn, Vargas considered. "I do not need them--not for that, not any longer. My reformation came with more than simply a title and spawn-abilities, Orthoclase-Alpha." Vargas turned, and eyed his spawn. It wasn't something he'd really done, yet--not at any length, not outside practicing on a few Lessers for hunting--but he focused for a moment on it. The attempt was something like a bloodhold spell; simply the forcing movement in another creature. And for Orthoclase-Alpha he did little--and the power was weak, regardless. Just a step toward him, and then he released his hold and grunted, looking away again, looking over the chrysalids. "And if we want to train them there, we'll need the place. We will have our own airborne army soon enough--but I would like to recruit the dragons to help reopen Draco. The children won't be grown by then, and I would rather have air support. I will have to speak to them, somehow. It would help if they were not incredibly stupid," Vargas added, sourly. Large, airborne, and fire-breathing did not mesh well with stubborn, aggressive and very, very dumb. Dread, at least, simply could not be reasoned with.

"I will think on it. Meantime, keep an eye on these stones, as I will. We cannot let anything come and kill them in our absence; they're... important, to us." Six toxic eyes narrowed, and then swung toward Alpha, studying it intently for a moment.

"This is more than my rebirth, child. This is a new chance for us all to prove ourselves. Do not forget that. You may not have known our Creator; but you do not wish to disappoint him. Do not, forget that."

@Orthoclase-Alpha

It hesitated, again. Jaw clenching, it took another, halting stab at it, "of the gem and magic. I've seen creatures emerge from their chrysalis with new parts or different shapes."

Vargas turned to it more fully, and something gripped it. An exigent compulsion to obey. It lasted no more than a second, pushing Alpha forward just a pace. However unintentional, it was a reminder that it was not the one in control - it never was, in the Caves. Given back the freedom of independent thought, the orthoclase simply stood there, gobsmacked. It sucked in one breath, having forgotten to breathe, and whipped up to stare at its Master; oh, he was talking, now.

About dragons and recruiting their might.

If only they weren't so stupid.

The Overseer (strange, how that felt weird to put in the narrative) blinked slowly, and hesitated before offering the tidbit of "the four-legged, white one didn't seem too stupid. It comes to Canis, sometimes." In passing, yes, but Alpha had never paid attention to her flight path, or if she was even sticking around. It'd missed the thing of Giggle accepting Bone as an apprentice. "It could be... reasoned with... ?" Quills laid flat on its mane. Suggestions tasted awful on its tongue. Its stomach was churning, and it couldn't discern why.

Of course, it was easy to realize that it was unfamiliarity and suddenly being entirely out of one's depth... when you were looking in from the outside.

Alpha stared at the chrysalises, and nodded, "yes, Master." An easy response. It'd work on building more glass spikes and - ordering the Sentinels to stand watch over them. Authority was surprisingly not a good color. It fit the Leviathan much more, who was bellowing another half-warning. Perfection was expected to set the precedent for the new order - or was it more fitting to call it chaos?

It did not know Him, but it did know His apparent gravity. "I won't forget," the kaiju repeated, quills still flush against its neck, but twitching.

@Vargas