Notes: Yeah, more of this. I can't believe how caught up I am in writing it.
Behind Blue Lies – Part 4
After a meal and an hour on the slab, Vriska felt like a whole new troll. She was even in enough of a good moon to spend time looking over the latest financial standings from the teal she'd hired as a financial manager once she'd untangled Spided's mistakes. For all that she was capable of handling them herself, Vriska had never much cared for that part of business management, and it looked better to the hierarchists to see her delegating middle management to a midblood. If they ever looked closely enough, though, they'd find Remium to be her real assistant manager, and problems would crop up.
In the end, though, little work at all got done. Every few minutes she caught herself glancing at her Trollian, hoping Sollux had already managed to figure something out. It was a wrigglerish fancy of hers, something she shouldn't have indulged in at 12 sweeps. Sollux was good, better than good despite his protestations, but good didn't mean time wasn't necessary. As fast and powerful as apiculture networks were, they were also very testy things. Mess one thing up and suddenly there was mind honey everywhere. Everyone knew you had to be careful with mind honey around psychics on the order of Sollux. And there were few psychics quite like Sollux Captor.
At last Vriska abandoned her husktop, tired of being anxious and in no mood to deal with a pair of trolls who had just signed onto Trollian (though at least Equius and Eridan had gotten worlds better since Gamzee had finally stepped between them like Vriska and Kanaya knew he would). There wasn't much to be done until her matesprit got back to the hivesteam, and then she would be busy showering her sweet flushed Fussyfangs with affection to make up for the encounter that evening. In fact, it would be better if she started making up for it now.
The issue was, as ever, that Vriska had never been a master of the romantic. Kanaya was capable of pulling out all the stops, from candles, to hand cooked meals, not to mention the totally unnecessary and wonderful flush gifts. One the other hand Vriska couldn't cook, didn't even know where Kanaya kept the candles, and was about as good at picking out gifts as a blind wriggler shopping for Her Imperial Highness. Romantic gestures were just not her thing. Grand romantic gestures on a time budget were even worse. Still, as with everything, Vriska was determined to persevere.
The first, and simplest step, was flowers. It only took a few minutes on the communication grub to order Kanaya's favorite arrangement for delivery. As an after thought she told the floral creationist she'd throw a bonus his way if he could scrounge up a few tall, unscented candles. Another few minutes went into negotiating a price, and while Vriska was sure she got cheated in the end (as if she had any understanding of the value of candles), she came away happy.
Food was a bit harder. Kanaya wasn't exactly picky, but Vriska wanted a meal which told her matesprit she was appreciated. In the end she wound up just ordering their usual romantic dinner from the usual place. Lack of creativity wasn't a bad thing, not when she went with something so reliable and beloved. It was nothing to shill out the extra credits to have it delivered, hot, about ten minutes before Kanaya returned to the hive (which she did like clockwork, every night, at the same time).
The real problem was a gift. Try as she might, no amount of wracking her pan solved the question or Vriska's inherent failure at this aspect. She had none of the ideas of what to do. Which meant she was going to have to do something truly unpleasant.
With a deep breath Vriska reached for the comm grub once more, punching in a number she was loathe to use. For a minute there was only static, and then the dreaded sound of the voice on the other end...
"Adjustor Makara here. What can a brother up and motherfucking do for you?"
"Gamzee, it's Vris..."
"Aw man. If it isn't a wicked sister indeed. Don't suppose you..."
"As much as I would absolutely love to waste hours of my night commiseration over our rancorous red's lack of presence, I can't tonight Gamzee. I've got an issue with your moirail."
Silence, and Vriska immediately regrets her phrasing. The unwary might think something was wrong—and it was, but just not in an expected way. As much as she hated to admit it, she had none of the skill at manipulation once a comm grub came into play. Even on the husktop she had a special kind of finesse. But without her empathy granting her knowledge, or the skill she'd developed in reading between the typed lines, Vriska was useless.
"Everything up and okay?"
"Fine. I just called randomly for a chat and said there was an issue with your moirail for no reason at all."
"Oh? Cool, sister. I ain't up for random chatting though."
"You have the thickest pan, did you know that?"
"Kar says that too," the purple blooded half-pan laughed.
"Anyway, I kind of upset Kanaya this morning. Trying to make it up to her but can't think of a gift."
"That's a wicked simple issue to deal with. Ain't a motherfucking thing. Get her some accessories. My sister all up and loves the wicked sparklies."
"Accessories? Like ear dangles?"
"Try more along the lines of neck adornments. Something with a personal touch."
"Okay, but I don't have any of the free time to shop."
Gamzee chuckled again, this time throwing in a honk for good measure. "Better. Want a personal touch. Commission something for my moirail. She won't care that it ain't done yet. Just the idea of it and the wait will be a pleasure."
"Sometimes, Gamzee, I think you're a lot wiser than you come across as."
"What a miraculous thing to say. But, shit girl, I've got a client in give with a dinner with Goatad after that. Best be all up and getting my professional on."
"Now that'd be a sight to see."
"Then up and get the wicked vision on, my clade sister. Up and see the miracle of a guidance adjustor getting his work on."
"Another time. A very other time."
She didn't even give Gamzee a chance to disconnect, just removed the comm grub from her ear, turned off the frequency adjustor and returned to her husktop. A few quick searches online found the perfect jewelry designer, and she shot off a set of messages to him describing her desired design, a rough measurement of Kanaya's neck (more precise sizing could be gained through a more pleasurable examination later) and requested a time frame and cost. By the time he was ready to start setting up the block for the meal, she had a response back quoting a price (reasonable given her request) and a time frame (longer than she would have liked considering everything, but his claim of being backlogged made it acceptable). With all that done Vriska rushed off to change into one of her favorite Maryam designed outfits, and figure out where her matesprit kept the good tablecloth.
"Oh Vriska, what have you done?" Kanaya gasped in surprise as she peered into the dimly lit hive. The astonished look was lovely on her face, but Vriska didn't linger by the door she'd opened for her matesprit to admire it. Instead she guided Kanaya forward, hand at the center of her back as a foot slid the hive door closed and her other hand slipped the sheaf of work papers from Kanaya's hands. The papers were gently placed on the couch as Vriska led her fussyfangs through the hive and to the candle lit dining table.
With a graceful bow she left Kanaya's side and swept one of the chairs out from the table, then extended her hand to Kanaya. In shock Kanaya accepted it and let herself be guided into the seat. Once she was comfortably arranged, Vriska swept the bouquet of flowers off the table and knelt before her matesprit. She carefully laid the flowers in Kanaya's lap, took her hands once more, and kissed the back of it.
"I'm sorry about this evening, dear. I had a bad day and took it all out on you. It wasn't fair. Forgive me?"
"You need not have asked. Sometimes I just wish you weren't so afraid of telling me things."
"It's not that I'm afraid, Fussy. I don't want to run the risk of even skirting pale with you. Your thinkrapist would kick in, and once we flipped, everything would be wrong. I won't risk it. I pity you too red to risk it Kanaya. I'm sorry."
Kanaya smiled, her face softening as Vriska spoke, and at last she just shook her head. "I wouldn't risk our matespritship like that, my dear. I was concerned."
"Nothing but a bad day, dear. So, to apologize, I did this for you."
"And it is wonderful," she admitted. "Come, I have grown quite famished, and if I am correct I can smell the distinctive subtleties of Chef Vryson's pasta with herbs and grubsauce sauteed in green pucker fruit. It is my absolutely favorite meal."
"I know, but I had one last surprise for you."
"I wonder just what it is. Truly, Vriska, you have gone to great lengths for this night."
"I had help," Vriska admitted, moving to her own seat. "I've commissioned a gift for you. A neck adornment. It won't be ready for a while, and I won't spoil the surprise, but..."
"Oh Vriska! A new neck adornment! What style? What colors? Oh I must know everything if I am to make a garment appropriate to it!"
"All in good time, my dear. You don't want your food to go cold, do you?"
She's standing in the middle of the meeting cave, and all eyes are on her. Her hand is still high in the air from releasing the dagger. None of that was as disturbing, though, as what she was facing. Before her Calgor was standing, the tip of her thrown dagger protruding from his body, and a stain of violet rapidly blooming out from it.
"You're no hierarchist," Calgor accuses, striding toward her, staring her down.
She tears her eyes away, only to find herself staring at her hands, covered in violet blood.
Again she looks up, and this time she's alone in the darkness, the only light coming from directly above.
Before she can turn to look around, there's a pain in her chest, sharp and demanding. Her eyes flickered down, and she sew a brilliant stem of metal piercing through her chest. Cerulean bloomed from the metal, and then a voice was whispering in her ears.
"This is what a traitor earns."
It was Calgor's voice.
"NO!" Vriska shouted, sitting up abruptly, dislodging Kanaya's arm from where it had lain across her chest.
"Vriska?" Kanaya gasped, coming awake immediately.
"Daymare," Vriska gasped out, as much for herself as Kanaya. And yet, even knowing that, she still lifted a hand to her chest, searching for the blade, for the cerulean seeping from her. When her fingers came back clean she sighed in relief.
"You have been having them more frequently in these past several perigees," Kanaya observed, sleep creeping back into her voice now that she knew her matesprit was fine.
"It happens," Vriska mumbled, freeing herself from Kanaya and the slab dressing cloths. "Better clear my pan before I try sleeping again. I'm going to get a cup of sleep balm brew. Need anything?"
"Less warming cloths if you are to be long. The slab is uncomfortably warm without you."
Vriska chuckled as she rose, whisking one of the warming cloths back a bit for Kanaya's sake. It was weird to have to do it, too, when she thought about the first night she'd spent with Kanaya all those sweeps ago. Back then Kanaya hadn't been prepared for spending a night in the arms of a cooler blood, and she'd shivered something fierce. Vriska had always loved to sleep warm, so she hadn't had trouble with a warmer blood, but the longer Kanaya shivered, the worse Vriska felt. In the end she'd climbed off the slab, retrieved a warming cloth meant for the dark season, and they'd slept in warm bliss. Now, though, Kanaya was so used to sleeping with her colder matesprit that she could barely handle warming cloths when she was alone. It was so beautifully pitiful.
It made Vriska feel horrible about lying to her matesprit. No amount of sleep balm brew would get her to risk daymares again this day. Instead she went to the food preparation block and pulled down a metal receptacle of the sleep staving balm brew and set water to boiling on the heating coil unit. If she was going to be awake, she was going to be awake. So Vriska brewed up a double strength cup, abstained from sugar, and headed for the office block. At a touch her husktop came to life, and with it came a repeated, demanding flash from Trollian. Someone had wanted her attention.
And the message was one she had been waiting for.
- twinArmageddons [TA] began trolling arachnidsGrip [AG] -
TA: yo vrii2ka found the iinformatiion you wanted
TA: or at lea2t iim pretty 2ure ii diid there2 no iinjury or a22ault report2 but he2 the only one fiittiing the qualiitiie2 iin the area
TA: unle22 the troll iin que2tiion ii2 two fuckiing young two have maniife2ted power2 untiil thii2
TA: anyway here2 everythiing ii could get out of thii2
twinArmageddons [TA] sent arachnidsGrip [AG] the file " "
TA: you 2eriiou2ly fuckiing owe me biig for thii2 iit wa2nt ea2y two get my claw2 on iit
TA: youre not even there are you typiical
TA: real fuckiing appreciiated arent ii
twinArmageddons [TA] ceased trolling arachnidsGrip [AG]
arachnidsGrip [AG] began trolling twinArmageddons [TA]
AG: Thanks Sollux, this is totally helpful. Sorry I was l8 responding.
AG: Was 8usy making up with my m8sprit.
TA: totally diid not need two fuckiing know about your flu2h drama
AG: You're in one of your moods, aren't you?
TA: no vrii2ka ii am not iin one of tho2e mood2 iim ab2olutely feeliing fuckiing wonderful
TA: regardle22 of my of per2onal rii2k ii ju2t 2pent an eveniing elbow deep iin my maiinframe2 rewiiriing for the 2et up iid need for your reque2t
TA: and de2piite the 2y2tem2 hackuriity ii got out wiith the data you wanted and even made you a map and youre two bu2y flu2hfliirtiing two even appreciiate my effort2
AG: You're un8eara8le when you're like this.
TA: fuck you vrii2ka youre alway2 unbearable wiith your iiron2 and your fiire2
AG: And I've told you that you don't have to do this kind of stuff, 8ut you keep agreeing.
TA: how do ii 2ay no thii2 poiint iim all but part of your lowblood 2pyweb
AG: Don't even call it that, Sollux.
TA: but iit2 a tangled web you weave vrii2ka
AG: Never, ever, call yourself a low8lood around me, Sollux. Call me whatever you want. Have one of your damn mood fits, shoot your own foot off with your psionics to spite your fucking legs.
AG: 8ut N8V8R 8V8R talk like one of those hierarchist assholes. Or I will see you regret it.
TA: iid liike two 2ee you try
AG: You know what, Sollux? I'm TOOOOOOOOTALLY done with this conversation. I am aaaaaaaall sorts of done with it. Go and 8e a fucking shitsponge on your own time. I'm not involving myself in this.
AG: And get some damn pills or something. You fucking need it.
- arachnidsGrip [AG] ceased trolling twinArmageddons [TA] -
There were far more important things to do than deal with a bipolar psionic. Far hotter irons in the fire now that she had the file from Sollux.