"A musclebeast! A musclebeast! My kingdom for a musclebeast!"
- Troll Richard III
You are now EQUIUS ZAHHAK, and you are in the common area of T's spacecraft, drinking some milk out of a metal cup. You can see Aradia and Sollux sitting at opposite ends of a small table at the other end of the room, silently playing what appears to be an intense game of chess. You're not paying enough attention to see who is winning.
As you finishing your cup of milk, the door to the common area behind you slams open. This startles you to the degree that you wind up crushing the now-empty cup in your fist. You put the wrecked cup down on the table as gently as you can manage, and turn to see T in the open doorway, looking more frustrated than you've seen her before. She sits down next to you, and lets out a long, exasperated sigh, looking down at the table. Sollux lets out a curse from the other end of the room, stands up, and walks over towards yourself and T, followed by Aradia.
"Ugh. AA ith way too good at cheth, it'th totally ridiculouth! I'm supposed the be the damn geniuth around here."
You look back and forth between the two of them. Aradia beat Sollux at chess? You knew the lovely young rustblood girl was remarkably talented, but this still comes as a surprise to you. You'd expect Sollux to be the best at that sort of game.
"There's more than one kind of genius, Sollux. You're far better with technology than I have ever been."
"Well, yeah. That'th obviouth. Theriouthly though, how the fuck did you beat me like that?"
Aradia looks thoughtful for a moment, and replies with a confident smile."Your tactics were quite solid, but it was reasonably clear you didn't have a lot of strategy beyond just trying to take my pieces."
T raises her head and says "The Culler has the same problem." This draws an odd look from everyone in the room, yourself included.
"I think it's reasonably clear that the Culler is not a god or otherwise supernatural entity," she continues. "What sort of god smites and does exactly nothing else? It's a troll who is doing this, somehow. And that troll's agenda isn't entirely clear yet."
You speak up. "While it is reasonable to exclude the the possibility that The Culler is some omnipotent deity, how do we know it is a troll, and not some other being we do not know of? After all, no troll has ever been reported to have a type of psychic power this precise and formidable."
"The Culler's crimes have mostly been against political officials and nobility, along with the leadership of the Mirthful Church. These crimes are meant not just to end the lives of countless trolls, but also to make a statement. These are the crimes of someone with a clear grudge against the Empire, so naturally it is probably a troll. When I said that The Culler's agenda isn't totally clear, I mean I can't deduce his or her endgame, or what precisely they mean to personally gain from their appalling crimes. The Culler's motivation, on the other claw, is clearly political; strongly opposed to the Imperial power structure, and against the Hemospectrum. While I don't entirely disagree with this perspective, the idea of culling one's way to a better society is a dangerous sort of madness that cannot be allowed to spread."
You scowl. It seems that the order of the Hemospectrum is not well-respected among your peers. Even T does not support it! You grimace at the thought before quickly rearranging your features into your more usual look of blank-faced regality. While not as high-blooded as you, her blood is teal, and therefore far better than the rest of the the team. While talented, they are such… peasants. Truly degenerate, especially the lovely Ms Megido. She is really amazing, to have earned a place as an officer of the law, despite her rust-colored blood. It is shameful that you were unable to woo her, you cannot believe she has chosen the hacker over yourself. It would be best not to dwell on it, you think.
T shakes her head. "Anyway, that's my initial analysis. I've got several ideas to narrow down where the Culler is, but I'm going to need to think on it more."
Sollux yawns, and asks, "What about the prithonerth? You dethided what to do with thoth fuckerth yet?"
T frowns. "I had figured that I could get most of the info on where Vriska kept all her stolen wealth by interrogating Tavros, but it turns out he doesn't even know where hardly any of it is hidden. Either she doesn't trust him, or she figured he'd get caught eventually and talk. I just came here after escorting him back to his cell."
"Are you sure he was not lying?" you ask. "Lowbloods often break easier under advanced interrogation."
T sighs. "I don't need to torture him, Equius. Tavros Nitram really doesn't know anything useful. He wasn't lying, I'm sure of it. As for Vriska; I know her, she's got so much pride she'd not talk to us under any sort of pressure. There's no point in even bothering. I'm going to go back to my respiteblock and think for a while. Surely there's something useful I can get out of these prisoners."
She leaves the common area, and soon enough Sollux and Aradia are playing chess again. You suspect you are feeling as frustrated as T, though not due to the pointlessness of interrogating a prisoner who knows nothing useful. You look over at Aradia - she appears to be winning at chess again. That lovely lowblood detective, she stole your heart away without even trying, and refuses to return it, nor pay it any mind. With all your STRONGNESS, you still cannot crush your feelings for her.
Your mobile telecommunication device vibrates in your pocket. Your moirail appears to be trying to reach you.
Hopefully she can cheer you up.
arsenicCatnip [AC] began trolling centaursTesticle [CT]
AC: :33 *ac prepares to pounce ct*
CT: D - - Good evening
AC: :33 *ac leaps towards ct claws outstretched*
CT: D - I have no desire to partake in this nonsensical game
CT: D - While at some times I may make an e%ception
CT: D - This is not one of those times
AC: :33 *ac growls with furstration*
AC: :33 rawrgh!
AC: :33 i just wanted to give you a big hug!
CT: D - Whether you e%pected to give me a hug is irrelevant
CT: D - You still must wait another half sweep before you leave Alternia
CT: D - You have my permission to hug me then
AC: :33 its good to know i have purrmission!
AC: :33 but half a sw33p is soooo long, and i dont know how well manage m33t up once im out there in the big old galaxy :((
CT: D - I will find a way to make it happen, do not fret
CT: D - My confidence in that is STRONG
CT: D - However I wish to discuss something else with you
AC: :33 *ac excitedly wags her tail in anticipurrtion*
CT: D - E%citement is not the correct emotion
CT: D - The lovely rustb100d and that degenerate foul-mouthed hacker have entered into a flushed relationship
AC: :33 :((
AC: :33 the nerve! sinking my ships and stealing the troll of your dreams from you!
CT: D - Yes, it is e%tremely frustrating
CT: D - He, unlike Aradia, is moody, vulgar, arrogant, and a bit of a t001
CT: D - He mocks and disregards the hemospectrum openly
CT: D - I really do not like him at all
AC: :33 *ac strokes her whiskers, pondering*
AC: :33 but you are flushed for aradia
AC: :33 whos even lower on the hemeowspectrum than he is
CT: D - Well yes
CT: D - But she is a lovely troll
CT: D - Quite the anomaly among those of her blood
CT: D - She is not vulgar, rude, or otherwise unpleasant
CT: D - In fact her manner is almost regal
CT: D - It is 100di% that she is of a hue so low
AC: :33 *ac raises an eyebrow*
AC: :33 purrhaps you shouldnt take the hemeowspectrum so literally
AC: :33 maybe then she would like to be your matespurrit more!
CT: D - Do not be f001ish
CT: D - If I did not adhere to the laws of b100d then not just my own life but the whole team w001d go to wreck and ruin
CT: D - Which is e%actly why I must be the voice of reason
AC: :33 ugh!
AC: :33 i know that its impurrtant but following the hemeowspectrum like a woolbeast cant be your whole life
CT: D - Yes it can
AC: :33 no it cant
CT: D - Yes
AC: :33 no
CT: D - Yes
AC: :33 no
CT: D - Yes
AC: :33 no
CT: D - Yes
AC: XOO no!
AC: XOO you cant just blindly follow a stupid set of rules without thinking about them just beclaws some idiot with purple blood told you to!
AC: XOO you cant just judge efuryone you m33t on their blood color alone!
CT: D - Nepeta
CT: D - What you are saying here c001d be considered treason
CT: D - I order you to stop
AC: XOO no
CT: D - Yes
AC: XOO no
CT: D - Yes
AC: XOO enough!
CT: D - Nepeta as much as I respe%t your judgement as my moirail I urge you to think about what you have been saying
CT: D - As much as I w001d like to stand by my personal beliefs I am also saying this to prote%t you
CT: D - Now I must trot off
CT: D - Among other things required of me I must also find a towel
AC: :33 ugh fine
AC: :33 but dont think youre getting out off this f33lings jam furever buster!
CT: D - Very well
CT: D - Goodbye
centaursTesticle [CT] ceased trolling arsenicCatnip [AC]
Heading to your respiteblock, your mind seethes. You care for Nepeta greatly. She is your lifeline in the galaxy, the one you care about the most. If only she would see reason, understand that the Mother Grub and the Empire has a place for all trolls. The Hemospectrum has worked well the common good for sweeps untold. Without it, if anyone could choose to do whatever they wished, the Empire would cease to function, and all would be lost. You've tried explaining this to your moirail before, of course, but she does not listen. You are concerned it may be the fact that she is a mid-blood that gives her a rebellious streak. But then again, your moirail is more vocally opposed to the Hemospectrum than rustblooded Aradia is.
As you enter your block, you quickly grab your towel, and wipe your face off. All these disagreements have done little but make you sweaty and frustrated. Sometimes you feel like you are surrounded by anarchists, rebels, and fools. You know this is not true, of course - you have no reason to doubt T or her loyalty to the Empire, despite her casual dismissal of the Hemospectrum's order. Besides, she is superior in rank, if not in blood. Aradia Megido is a troll of loyalty and integrity, despite her low hatching. Nepeta you cannot help but trust, despite your differences. Sollux Captor, though…
You do not like Sollux Captor. He is vulgar, sarcastic, and openly critical of not just the Hemospectrum, but of the Empire as a whole. It would not be so bad if he was merely critical of the seadweller nobility, as the animosity between land and sea is normal, and part of the way of the Empire. But his disdain is for the entirety of the order of society. He used to be a criminal himself, even! It was only T's decision that he could be useful that saved him from the gallows as a hacker.
Putting your towel down, you look at yourself in your mirror. Your dark glasses are cracked from when you put them on earlier this evening, and your face is somewhat less sweaty than before. Reaching out, you lightly move your claw across the reflection of your face in the mirror. Unfortunately, what for you is "lightly", most would considered crushingly STRONG. The surface of the mirror cracks ever so slightly across the reflection your face, and you pull your claw back. That was clearly a bad idea, in retrospect. Oh well.
You turn and leave your respiteblock, trying to put your frustrations out of mind. When you arrive in the common area once more, you see Sollux sitting across from the chess set, looking bored. He looks up as you enter the room, peering at you through his red and blue shaded spectacles, and smiles a cocky grin.
"Hey, EQ. Up for a game?"
"A game? If you are referring to playing chess, then no, I have better ways to spend my time than by fooling around playing trivial games with lowbloods," you reply, trying to keep the sneer out of your voice and failing.
"Well, that'th a thame, here I wath looking to fucking win for onthe."
"Do not curse at me, lowblood."
"That curthing wathn't direcated at you. But you know, how about thith; I'll stop curthng in your presenthe if you can beat me at cheth."
"I do not need to bargain with you. I command you to stop."
"Or fucking what? You gonna take your anger out on me, uthe your 'great thtrongness' to beat me to a literal bloody pulp? What do you think AA would think of that?"
You know the answer to this question. If you cull Sollux Captor, Aradia would not so much as speak to you ever again. You may be well within your rights as a highblood to end a disrespectful lowblood, but it would make a wreck of Aradia. She would hate you, and you have no interest in her for that quadrant. Besides, T would be angry, and you don't want to make an enemy of your boss.
"Fine", you say. "A game of chess it is."
14 moves in, you've lost. Sollux is wearing a gleeful smirk, and you very much want to smash it in. However, you do not. You must remain calm and composed. You don't want to wind up thoughtlessly cruel like so many seadwellers. It is counterproductive.
Finally, you manage to say "This game is poorly designed."
"It'th thtood the tetht of time well enough. Been around for a thouthand thweeps or thomething."
"The musclebeast pieces are clearly underpowered compared to their their true strongness."
Sollux attempts to stifle a laugh, poorly. "Ith that why you lotht tho fucking badly?"
"You have no right to speak to me that way, lowblood."
Sollux sighs, and takes off his glasses. He look right at you with those mismatched eyes. "EQ. It'th pathetic, watching you pompouthly claim you don't like me due to the fucking hemothpectrum. You're fluthed for my matethprit and she's ath lowblooded ath trollth even get. Why can't you jutht admit that the hemothpectrum ith meaningleth? You don't like me due to me being an athhole who ith in the quadrant you want to be in with AA. That'th all there ith to it."
You are starting to sweat again. You start to speak, but in your frustration, you change your mind. Your dignity has been assaulted enough, you think.
Turning, you walk away. You have no interest in enduring more of Sollux Captor. He mutters yet another curse at you as you do so; you pretend not to hear it.
It would be bad form to bother T about the insolent lowblood while she is pondering what to do with the prisoners. Discussing these issues with Aradia or even Nepeta would likely be of no use; Aradia would not appreciate complaints about her matesprit, and Nepeta would pressure you to change your views, to abandon the system. She cares… but she is misguided.
Really, what you want to do is escape. You wish you could take the shuttle and fly away into the void. But you would be remiss of your duties if you did. You are a highblood, and it would not be proper of you to quit, to leave this all behind you. You must be STRONG.
You wind your way through the ship, in the direction of the brig. Your heavy footfalls reverberate and echo off the metal corridors, turning one set of feet into a legion. Mind spinning and whirling, attempting to process and bring order to your conflicting emotions, you jab a finger at the keypad that will open the brig door. On the third number the supposedly strong plastic interface shatters under your rough treatment and your claw goes straight through the panel. You quickly stifle an unbecoming yelp as a burst of electricity crackles up your arm before quickly redrawing the finger and inspecting the damage to the keypad.
"Oh, fiddlesticks," you curse under your breath.
The whole panel has broken into sharp shards with a rounded hole replacing the number five key where your finger had gone through. You breathe a heavy sigh and trek back several metres along the corridor to the nearest order interface and delivery chute. Quickly, and carefully, keying in the items you need you wait only a few seconds before a hiss of air announces that they had arrived in the pneumatic delivery system.
Picking up the bundle of tools and parts you walk back to the broken keypad and begin the task of fixing it. However many sweeps it has been since you had the chance to work on anything mechanical you still haven't lost your touch. You work at a gentle pace, letting letting your mind go nearly blank as you try to focus on the electronic device. Your breathing slows to a calming rhythm of in and out, in and out. By the time your work is complete you feel a lot more relaxed than earlier.
You return the tools and the broken parts of the panel to the delivery chute, letting the ship's systems sort them out, then go to key in the code a second time. The door slides open without incident revealing another corridor, this one just too brightly lit to be comfortable. Three-walled rooms branch out from the hallway, two on each side. Both end cells are occupied, however; a slight shimmering in the air the only indicator that the electro-barrier was activated.
Walking to the end of the short corridor you check on the prisoners. Nitram is curled up in one corner of the near-empty cell, forehead resting on his knees and arms wrapped around his legs, obviously asleep. Slight brown stains can be seen marring his cheeks, remnants of where tears had dried during his nap. You curl up your nose at the pathetic sight and shy away from his room slightly, heading to the opposite one instead.
Serket was leaning against a side wall of her cell, arms crossed over her body, the smirk on her face doubling in size once you turn to look at her.
"Soooooooo…" she drawls. "I was wondering how long it would be before you got your blue butt down here. Come to sneer at the underlings, have you?"
"I assure you, I have merely come down to check on the prisoners," you reply curtly, already feeling a bit riled up by Serket's accusations. "It is part of my job to make sure that all prisoners are in a fit condition to face the justice they deserve and as the others are...busy...I have taken it upon myself to make sure that you and the rustblood are adequately provided for.
"Ohhhhhhhh, they didn't want you up there so you came down here to hide from them, is that it?"
"That is most certainly not 'it'! I have explained my reasons for visiting and I do not need a criminal like you jumping to false conclusions about my actions. Good day!" And with that you whirl around and begin to stomp out of the brig, your quelled anger returning.
"I'm right though, aren't I?"
You pause, finger held just above the keypad, ready to type in the numbers that would open the door but not quite able to do so. Her voice had seemed so quiet, so sincere, so...empathetic. You turn slowly and look at the Cerulean-blood again. She is now standing just behind the electro-barrier, leaning as close as she can get without being shocked, looking at you with something verging on pity in her eyes.
"They don't want you up there because you don't act like them, right?" she continues as you slowly walk closer. "You don't think like them, you don't get along with them. The only reason they keep you around is because you're high enough to get past barriers the rest of them can't and strong enough to do the same thing. They don't appreciate you for what you can do, don't listen to what you have to say."
By now you're standing right in front of her, staring straight into her mismatched eyes. Only a small gap of shimmering air separates you. She smirks slightly, the mischievous spark in her eyes burning through the empathy and you are enraptured with the blue of her irises, a blue so close to yours.
"But what if there was a way for you to change all that?" she asks finally and the thought that drifts through your thinkpan is immediately quashed by the certainty that things will turn out as they should. The thought that you are in way over your head.
It occurs to you first that it's like she's reading your mind. The next thing that occurs to you is that she is a psychic, and actually might be doing so. Your expression returns to a scowl, and you ask "You had best not be using any of your psychic trickery on me, Spider."
She lets out a long laugh at this, then holds up her claws in mock resignation. "Hate to disappoint you, Zahhak, but I'm not reading your mind. Most highbloods are entirely immune to my psychic manipulations, yourself included. Sadly."
"Then how do you know my name?"
"I had a veeeeeeeery reliable source of information on Tarvinia. You didn't think I'd go in for a duel with her completely unprepared, did you?"
You scoff at this. "You clearly were not prepared enough."
A regretful and frustrated look flashes briefly across her face. "Well, no. I'd not accounted for everything. But I did learn a great deal about you and your little team. Except it's not yours at all, is it?"
She's smiling now, a broad, confident smirk at odds with her position as prisoner. "Your superior officer is several shades your inferior by blood, and you are of equal rank in her team with a bunch of lowbloods. Do you know whyyyyyyyy that is?"
You try and keep yourself calm, but you are beginning to sweat again. Her words are eating away at you. It's clear she knows what buttons to push, yet you cannot bring yourself to turn away.
"Because you are a fool, Equius Zahhak. You think this galaxy needs order, which is reasonable. A lot of trolls think that. I don't, but I'm a modern-day Gamblignant of sorts; so of course I lean towards the chaotic side of that particular spectrum. The difference between yourself, and those rare unfortunate creatures, the trolls who are actually sensible, is that you think this order of things- the hemospectrum, the Empire, and so on- is reasonable and fair, when in fact it is merely stupid."
Your anger spikes, and you don't quite have get handle on it before you retort. "I have better things to do than listening to the insults and ramblings of a prisoner. You make it sound as if you would actually support the Culler." you say, practically spitting the words at her.
Vriska yawns, seemingly unintimidated. With her left claw, she pulls a set of blue dice out of her pocket, and begins to fiddle with them. You notice her right wrist is still bandaged from where T stomped on it during the duel. "The Culler? That idiot? I don't support him. I'd muuuuuuuuch rather he support me."
"What in the name of the Empress do you mean? You do realize the Culler has targeted criminals and outlaws in his cullings as well, correct?"
"So?" She shrugs, turning her back to you and stepping away from the barrier. "It doesn't mean he's anywhere near good enough to get me, the stupid wiggler. But anyway, he's not the one we're talking about."
There's a pause as she glances over her shoulder at you, then in less time than it takes to blink she's staring you in the eyes again, face only millimeters away. You instinctively rear back in shock, then attempt to hide the movement by clearing your throat and stepping a bit away from the electro-barrier.
"We're talking about you," she finishes. Her eyes gleam mischievously, mouth twitching up into a fang-ridden grin. There are slight sizzles and sparks as stray hairs drift into the electrified force-field blocking her from escaping.
"You're talking about me," you mutter while averting your eyes from her stare, trying to get a hold on this conversation again. "I was under the impression egomaniacs like you were supposed to go on about themselves."
"That's not a bad idea!" she beams. "Wellllllll, you probably know I'm somewhat of on old rival of your employer. I've culled 26 trolls in my career - and hey, confession! Bet Pyrope didn't see that coming! Most of them were pussies who had it coming, but some were just in the way, y'know? Wrong place and wroooooooong time. It happens! Just the other week, when I stole some stupid musclebeast sports painting thing, I culled a lowblood security guard who was on his way out. Unavoidable, he would've seen me and I could've be caught!" She gasps in mock horror.
"Enough!" you bellow, then hesitate. "Wait, it was you that stole 'The Noble Game'?"
"Well, duh! How many other attractive female gambligants and master-thieves do you know? I couldn't bring myself to leave my calling card for that one, since the work was so, well, ugly. I burned it. Took it as a public service, that painting was dreadful! Was a fun heist, though."
You sputter, feeling the released rage from earlier building up again.
"You WHAT!?"
"Burned it. Into iiiiiiiitty-bitty tiny ashes.."
"That...you...it….THAT PAINTING WAS A MASTERPIECE!"
"You care more about that stupid painting than that guard I culled, I see. What a shock."
You curl your lip, baring your teeth in anger at Serket. How could you, for a second, believe she had a modicum of compassion in the shriveled up thing she called a blood-pusher?
"You care about Aradia though, don't you? You do realize she can't stand you, right?"
And then the budding red-hot rage freezes and turns to ice in your veins. Your expression must have shown this because her next taunts cut you to the bone.
"Ohhhhhhhh! I guess she didn't tell you that. She is ever so polite."
Small drops of blue begin to bead on the palms of your claws where your claws had cut into the flesh. You stare resolutely at the floor, shoulders around your ears, as she continues.
"None of them can stand you really, I said that before. Not the know-it-all piss-blood, not your dear, sweet Aradia, and certainly not your employer, the blind bitch - she thinks quite highly of the infamous Signless, by the way; not a cultist, but a bit of a secret fangirl. She's sure done her history homework!"
You stay perfectly motionless, other than a slight ear-twitch at the mention of the heretic.
"Ooooooooh, you didn't know that, did you? Betcha didn't know about the silver chain she wears around her neck, either. You don't know a lot of things, do you Zahhak? I don't even know why they keep someone as worthless as you on the payroll. Oh yeah! That's right, you're here to keep the prisoners company, aren't you?"
There is a low growl reverberating around the brig, it takes several seconds for your sluggish thinkpan to realize it's coming from you. Swallowing does nothing to quieten it. You attempt to reply, but words are refusing to form as they should.
"I...don't...think-"
"No. You don't, do you?" Her words are harsh, sharp and even with all your STRENGTH you are useless against them. "You're just a mindless grunt, like your robots. Doing whatever you get told to do like a good little public servant. You're pathetic." She spits out the last words like acid. They burn like acid too.
With a roar you raise your fists and throw yourself at her, not thinking about the barrier until too late. With a shower of electric sparks and thousands of bolts of ouch arcing through your system you rebound and curl up on yourself. The pain has finally broken through to your rage-damaged thinkpan and you know what you have to do.
Three quick steps later you are in front of the control panel for the brig, something approaching an evil grin covering your face. Thoughts whirling around you head you do not hear the series of quiet taps coming from the cell behind you. Mashing your fist at the panel you hear a keening whine as the barrier deactivates. The panel shatters, and the barrier falls.
You lunge at her, aiming to make her end.
She moves with remarkable speed, and there is a flash of cerulean in her left claw.
"Fuck you"
She slices at your neck with it, and suddenly the only thing you can do is fall.
You look up at her from the indigo puddle. Vriska Serket quickly picks up her dice, and the cerulean knife vanishes from her claw. You hear the other cell barrier deactivate, and wheels turning as she rolls her snoring partner out of the brig.
Your last thoughts are of Nepeta as you bleed out on the floor.