Arghhhh. A few things: sorry about my week underway, but I couldn't spare any time to write. I'm sick as a barkbeast now. I just got off duty this morning and wanted to have both this and the next chapter for "Just Go With It" finished but I went to go see Welcome To Night Vale tonight so that was more important (sorry! I had tickets!), so "JGWI" will be finished/updated tomorrow. I know I said "Rewriting the Terms" would premiere on Friday but it turns out I have duty again that day (military wailing) so I will try to have it finished and uploaded on Thursday instead (but if not, look for it on Saturday). I think that about covers it. Brace for feels.

Many thanks to Jellawesome777, TH4TON3GUY, DarkBlueMahogany, Toaneo07 Ver2.0, Sgt. Red, and two guests for your reviews to the last chapter!

The Grand Highblood

The lowbloods must have thought she was an idiot if they'd believed they wouldn't be captured. Too bad for them, she was much smarter than she looked. While it had taken longer than she expected for it, they still ended up apprehended by Darkleer, and that was what mattered. It was also true that Mindfang's arrest and the subsequent hanging of Redglare by the lowbloods (leading to Mindfang's escape and the brutal slaying of His Honorable Tyranny) had been a complete debacle, but her arrest hadn't been as high on the list of priorities as the apprehension of The Signless and his entourage, and her escape was something they could recover from.

Redglare's death was, however, an embarrassment. It always looked bad when someone got the upper hand on a legislacerator, especially one as supposedly talented as Neophyte Redglare, but after Mindfang lost her an arm and an eye, she'd still been able to escape. Kurlas's blood still boiled whenever she remembered that The Handmaid had told her to send Neophyte Redglare instead of her older, more-experienced sister, though. The elder Redglare wouldn't have gotten herself killed. She would have just culled Mindfang at the first sign of trouble, but now Kurlas would definitely need to send someone to arrest her again—they couldn't let her elude them for very long.

Why had The Handmaid been so insistent on the younger Redglare in the first place? She supposedly knew what would happen in the future, so she must have foreseen Redglare's death. Had the intent been to get her killed?

Redglare's death had also cast light on something rather unexpected. When she was finally cut down from the noose intended for Mindfang, her glasses had been knocked askew and her eyes were wide and unseeing. Her eyes had been burned red, and based on the autopsy, they had been burned and scarred sweeps before. She had been blind the whole time and no one had known.

Stupid girl, Kurlas thought bitterly. She would have been culled eventually. Mindfang just beat us to it. It didn't lessen the insult of having been bested by Mindfang (even blind, Redglare had still managed to capture her), but it did alleviate some of the disquiet Kurlas felt over the legislacerator's death. It could have almost been considered a culling.

And then her thoughts turned to Neophyte Redglare's older sister, Judicate Redglare. There was no doubt in Kurlas's mind that the elder Redglare knew about the Neophyte's blindness. On the pretext of informing her of her sister's hanging, she summoned Judicate Redglare to see if she, too, was blind.

It had only been a day, and the involved lowbloods had been imprisoned pending a more in-depth investigation into the specific events of that day. It seemed fairly simple—Mindfang's ability to control lowbloods was well-known—but they at least had to investigate it to confirm. Still, it was to be kept quiet until the official results were released, meaning Judicate Redglare would have almost no chance to find out before Kurlas told her that her sister was dead.

"Grand Highblood," Judicate Redglare said after a respectful bow. "It is an honor to stand before you. What would you ask of me?"

"Do you up and motherfucking know why you're here?" Kurlas asked, her voice a boom that echoed throughout the throneblock.

Redglare furrowed her brows in confusion and shook her head. "No, Grand Highblood, but I would imagine it has something to do with my sister, Neophyte Redglare."

"Motherfucking right."

The surviving Redglare's expression darkened. "I assume she's failed you in some way, and for that, I can only apologize and offer to take her place."

"That isn't motherfucking necessary. She did up and fail, but it wasn't exactly her motherfucking fault."

"I don't understand, Grand Highblood. What happened? Where is she?"

"Mindfang up and motherfucking hanged her."

There was a dull thud as Redglare dropped to her knees, her face frozen in an expression of horror. "She... she's dead?" she finally asked.

The Director stepped in then, correctly assuming that Kurlas wouldn't be gentle about what happened. "We've launched an investigation into what happened yesterday and so far it appears that Mindfang, using her power to control the minds of lowbloods, was able to manipulate them into hanging Neophyte Redglare from the noose intended for Mindfang. In the ensuing chaos, Mindfang fled the courtblock, killed His Honorable Tyranny, and escaped our custody."

Behind Judicate Redglare's glasses, teal streaks flowed down her cheeks. She was crying silently, trying to wipe away her tears with the heels of her hands, but the glasses got in the way. Finally, she tore them off her face and flung them to the side, rubbing at her eyes. "Where is she now? My sister, I mean. Where is she?" she asked numbly, opening her eyes and looking from The Director to Kurlas and back.

Judicate Redglare wasn't blind. That much was obvious at a glance. Her eyes were yellow and pupiled, normal. Fine. Kurlas supposed she could give Redglare a pass for not turning in her blind sister for culling considering the younger Redglare was dead now anyway.

"We have her," The Director said carefully. "Once the investigation has concluded, we'll return the body to you."

"Thank you," Redglare said quietly. She slowly got back to her feet and bowed once. "If you have no further need of me, I humbly beg your permission to take my leave. I'm sure you can understand that I require time to grieve."

The Director glanced at Kurlas, who gave a quick nod. "You may go," he said. "We will send for you in due time."

Redglare turned to leave the throneblock, and The Director called after her. "Judicate Redglare, your glasses?"

"I don't need them anymore," Redglare said, turning her head to be heard. "I only wore them for her. They hurt my eyes, anyway," she added with a half-hearted laugh. She left after that, and no one tried to stop her.

But if Neophyte Redglare's death and Mindfang's escape had soured Kurlas's mood, the news from E%ecutor Darkleer that he'd captured The Signless and his entourage brightened it. They were more important than a blue-blooded pirate, anyway—she stirred up her own kind of chaos, but hers was easily contained, whereas The Signless's chaos was one of revolt. That had to be stopped immediately.

The E%ecutors arrived with The Signless and the other rebels a few hours after Judicate Redglare departed. The whole group of them—E%ecutors and lowbloods alike—looked exhausted from the journey, especially the two mustard-blooded psionics, the ones at the beginning and end of the procession. They both limped when they walked, although only the one at the back had a bandaged leg. After the first Ψiioniic, accompanied by two E%ecutors, there was The Signless and his matesprit, the one called The Disciple. After them—Kurlas felt a wave of something she couldn't name, something familiar, but she couldn't decide how. It was The Follower, The Disciple's brother, but she knew she'd never seen him before. She knew—but when the olive-blood looked up at her, some small part of her knew... something. He was looking at her like he felt it, too, like in another life, they might have been matesprits, but...

They're just prisoners, every one of them. Even him. They're all to be culled. There's no use in waxing scarlet for him. She forced herself to look away from him, to the next two. The Dolorosa and The Singular. The child—he couldn't have been older than six and a half—had dried red tear-streaks on his face. The Dolorosa had him pressed tightly to her side, and neither of them seemed willing to let go of the other. He looked terrified, and rightly so.

The other Ψiioniic brought up the rear. He swayed on the spot, sweat rolling down from his scalp, and Kurlas could tell it was only through sheer force of will that he was still standing. He's weak. He won't last another three days. It will be best to execute him early. "Out-motherfucking-standing, Darkleer," Kurlas said. "Take them down to the motherfucking prisonblocks. I know a certain motherfucking waterbitch who'll be up and motherfucking delighted we got this scum motherfucking taken care of."

"At once, Grand Highblood," Darkleer said, bowing deeply. He jerked on the first Ψiioniic's arm and led the group out of the throneblock.

Kurlas couldn't keep herself from watching The Follower as they left, but he was looking back at her, too.

Her Imperious Condescension leaned back in her throne, tilting her head to the side. "Whale, congratunalations on hookin' the fuckin' rebels. I gotta say, I didn't expect you to actually do it. How many of them did you net?"

"Seven," Kurlas said to the screen with the fuchsia-blooded Baroness on it. "Two mutants, two olive-bloods, two mustard-blooded psionics, and a motherfucking jade-blood. E%ecutor Darkleer up and brought them down to the motherfucking prisonblocks already."

Meenah suddenly looked intrigued, her pixelated eyes widening. "Jade-bloods are rare," she pointed out. "Shell probubbly net a high price as a slave."

"You want to up and motherfucking sell her?" Kurlas asked.

"Yeah, shell her. She's worth more alive than dead. And the psionics... I can use them. They still got their powers?"

"I motherfucking think so. Darkleer up and put these collars on them so they can't motherfucking use their powers and try to get their escape on." That was the last thing she needed, especially after Mindfang's escape.

"Exshellent. I can use them to power my ship!"

"There's a motherfucking problem with one, though," Kurlas said. "The one is in bad motherfucking condition. He looks like he's about to motherfucking die on his own."

The grin slid off Meenah's face. "Don't you fuckin' let him die! Those two are far more valububble together than separate, espeshelly if one of 'em's dead!"

"I'll do my motherfucking best," Kurlas said sullenly. "I'm not in the motherfucking habit of keeping motherfuckers alive, though."

"Keep him alive for another day. I'll come and get them myshellf." The screen cut out and Kurlas sighed. Sell the jade-blood and hand the Ψiioniix over to Meenah. Darkleer's gonna love that.

Blueglow

His leg throbbed. His body ached. His neck was sore with the psionic-inhibiting collar they'd never taken off. His head was filled with the sounds of screams, seven voices crying out in agony and despair, seven voices he knew—

And then, just like that, three voices faded into nothing. There were just four left. His eyes flew open in the darkness, but he strained his think-pan harder, trying to listen. There was definitely Karkat's voice, still loud and strong, and Kankri's voice, still high with youth. Nepeta's voice stood out, too, her voice distinctly female in the cacophony of male voices, and Meulon's voice, deeper than all of them.

But no longer could he hear Kanaya's voice screaming, or Mituna's, or his own. Their voices were gone. Oh, my God.

For as long as he could remember, he'd been plagued by the voices of the imminently doomed. The moment the E%ecutors captured them, he'd heard all of their voices echoing in his head, screaming for mercy or justice or just an end to the pain, and he knew they would all die. But something had changed. He and Mituna and Kanaya would not be executed. For whatever reason, they would be spared, but he had a feeling it would be a worse fate then at the end of an E%ecutor's arrow.

Tuna. Can you hear me?

The E%ecutors had separated them yet again, keeping an empty prisonblock between him and the block with Karkat, Kankri, Kanaya, Nepeta, and Meulon, and between them and Mituna's block. Sollux had never spent so long without even being able to touch his brother, and he had a feeling it was one of the reasons he was suffering so badly now. Mituna felt it, too. Sollux kept thinking back to when they were younger and when he could have even rested his hand on Mituna's arm and he didn't and if he'd have known then that there would be a time when they wouldn't even be allowed to touch, he probably would have hugged his twin and never let him go.

All he knew now was that if he didn't get to touch Mituna soon, he would most likely die.

Yeah. I can hear you. How are you doing?

It hurts. Everything hurts. I can't do this much longer. I didn't know they were going to do this to us.

We're too powerful together. Sollux could hear the sadness in his brother's thought. They won't put us together again.

I know that. I'd give anything to not have these fucking powers anymore if it meant they didn't separate us.

I completely agree.

Sollux blinked back tears. But that's not why I'm talking to you now. Something happened.

What?

The voices... I only hear four.

Four? Whose?

Karkat, Nepeta, Kankri, and Meulon. Not Kanaya's, not yours, not mine. They're still going to die, but we won't.

Mituna's response came a few tense moments later. Why?

I don't know. I don't know what they have planned for us. But don't tell the others. If we tell Kanaya that Karkat and Kankri will die but she won't, she'll probably lose her mind.

I won't tell. Just keep yourself alive, please. I won't survive if you don't, too.

So Kurlas and Meenah are on a first name basis (in this fic's canon they are, in fact, kismeses, which has been hinted at, but not stated). WILL SOLLUX SURVIVE? WAIT AND SEE!

No but actually I was really sad while writing this...poor Latula...