Notes: Was that not a great turn of events? I'm really starting to grow into a fan of the complexities of the pale quadrant. Sure, the flushed and caliginous quadrants are nice, but man, I'm loving the pale.
Behind Blue Lies – Part 16
The troll that passed through the crack in the stone and back into the presence of the would-be Empress wasn't the same one who had left. No, Vriska was a whole new troll. Had been since she talked to Tavros. Had been when she'd disconnected from the three way memo with Tavros and Sollux hours ago, pleading fatigue and promising to return for a final hour of debriefing before she left her hive. Had been when she'd gathered up the last things she wanted to take away from her old life—as sweet as it had been with Kanaya—and headed out into the scalding heat of the day. She was like a troll who hadn't had weeks of pure mental torture, every decision weighing on her as if she was the only one in the world who even motherfucking cared.
No, the troll who walked into slipped into the stone meeting room was cool, collected, confident and fulling in control of herself. A troll ready to give up the comforts of her life for the greater good.
Vriska was ready.
"Well, well, well," Veruna said, looking up from the scattered plans Vriska had left behind on the table. Apparently she too had calmed some in the time since they had last seen each other, if the lack of fish puns was any kind of indication. "I'm glad to see you back, and with twenty minutes to spare. Cutting it close there, Vriska. Still, it's within your winnow, so I guess I can't complain. Well, no, that isn't right. I can carp about anything I feel like. But it won't get us anywhere."
"What," Vriska purred, striding towards the stone table and the psychotic troll, "Did you lack faith in me?"
"To be completely honest, girl, I expected your excuse was a chance for you to gather your things and your matesprit and run. Not many trolls would handle what I was suggesting well."
It had been a temptation, such a temptation, but Vriska'd never say that. Instead she just smiled in a condescending way and rolled her eyes. "I never cease to wonder at how little you believe in my commitment. But hey, you want to worry, your business. I've got my own."
And she sure did. The last hours had been packed with it. With Sollux she'd started to outline a new plan, most of which she'd have to rough out on her own now, but the outline was important. It meant she could count on Sollux, and now Tavros, to work to getting into contact with the Web members, not quite informing them of what was coming next, so they could prepare for what was coming. Sollux was also supposed to start working some 'highblood' contacts he had to get their security and response rates geared up for the attack. And Tavros... had mostly just been there to help keep Vriska sane. It was a minor role, but an important one, and Sollux promised that he was going to see to finding a place for Tavros in the Web soon enough.
So here Vriska was, in the presence of a woman that was all but radiating waves of anxiety, just smiling as she started to pull new papers from the pockets of her robe.
"If you don't mind, I started to do some work. My matesprit was late at work so I had a chance to start thinking about things. Would you mind...?"
With a wide, sweeping motion of her arm, Veruna had cleared the table, making plenty of room for Vriska to lay out things on the table. First and foremost was a large roll of paper that featured the blueprints of the Imperial Palace. It had been the last thing Sollux had managed to get to her before Vriska had left to pack up her things. There was still a lot to do so that she could plot out guard movements and such, but the blueprints were vital.
"What's this?" Veruna asked, frowning at the layout. "Vriska, where did you get this?"
"Blackmailing a skilled hacker midblood," she lied, swiftly and easily. "They won't turn me in. They don't know enough about me to go to the enforcers, and their fingerprints will be all over the hacking done for this job. They'll be taken as a collaborator, not a victim. And if we manage to take out the Empress, no one is going to get off with a slap on the back of the hand."
"I'm whale aware of that," Veruna said, settling herself slowly on a stone bench next to the table. "You're sure..."
"If he tries, I'll kill him," Vriska promised. Again without hesitation. She wasn't sure whether she should be proud of herself or disappointed. Still, the assurance made Veruna comfortable, proud of Vriska. "Anyway, this is the current layout of the Imperial Palace. The party is occurring in the grand ballroom. If my memory of the story of your death is true, then you've never been there. It was built later in the current Empress's life. She's been holding her celebrations there every sweep for the last forty. My research suggests that it's usually set up in the same manner as well. Her security forces are obviously getting slack in her old age..."
Which was as much a disappointment for Vriska as a boon. Failing her attack could be worse than not showing up here would have been. Security laziness made for an easier planned, more likely to be successful attack. At the same time, it meant it was really going to be easier to kill the Empress. All Vriska could hope was that after the attack the Heiress Feferi upped the requirements of her security, forced in new advisors, and made sure that such a tragedy could not happen again.
"Gyleia was the kind to rest on her tail," Veruna agreed, smiling widely. "I've always wanted to hook her with that fact."
"Well, we'll have a chance. From what I understand it shouldn't change, but we'll need some scouts to observe the system anyway. It would screw us over royally, so to speak, if she suddenly decided she wanted to change things around."
Veruna waved the comment away, fully confident in Vriska's awareness of her. "I've trolls that can get the information you need," she promised.
"May I ask who?"
"No. If you prove yourself to me in this work you will be made aware of more of the structure of our movement. For now you will work with what I give you."
Not the best way to handle things, it meant Vriska was working blind, but it was what she had to work with. Besides, if Vriska found out, managed to pass it all on to Sollux, and see the trolls caught then Veruna would turn on her. No, as much as she hated it, going through with the attack was really the only choice that she had for now. Make one great sacrifice for the sake of the downfall later.
Maybe, Vriska thought, history will one day forgive me.
But she wouldn't hold her breath.
It took almost five hours, but at last Vriska managed to slowly walk Veruna through the whole plan as far as Sollux had helped Vriska revise it. Of course, it only took that long because Vriska spent a lot of time hemming and hawing, making notes in margins of the papers she pulled out, and all around acting like she was making her revisions on the spot. It was a masterful display, and Vriska knew it. The longer she kept at it, the more she added tidbits that Veruna thought might help their plans, the more the fuchsia blood believed her. Well and truly believed and looked at Vriska with respect for her. Not true respect of course, Vriska was below her due to her blood, but respect for Vriska's cunning. Which was all Vriska needed, to be honest. Respect for a person themselves might not be enough to see them alive through something. Respect for something a person could do could see them alive through the worst of things. So long as Veruna needed Vriska to plan, she could keep going. Being useful was a powerful thing, even if the troll doing the using didn't realize it.
For all the Veruna was stronger, longer lived, and more capable of violence, Vriska had power in becoming a vital tool for Veruna's goals.
And her value to Veruna was only confirmed when Vriska started to slip some feigned yawns and drowsiness in as she planned. By the third faked nodding off, Veruna all but flew from her seat, tutting under her breath, and rushing Vriska to her feet. With the fuchsia hovering around her like a worried guardian over a sick wriggler, Vriska found herself shooed from the cave with her non-planning belongings in her arms, and out into the dark of the desert night. What the point of it was, Vriska wasn't sure. But she reveled in the feel of the night air across her skin, the way the light of the moons washed pink over the sand, and the glittering lights in the sky. Chances were the next time she'd see it all would be the night of the attack, and after that... Who knew? Then, suddenly, Veruna had a hand on her shoulder, tight and heavy and painful, and was guiding Vriska around the rock face. Soon enough she was being pushed into a crack in the rocks further along that Vriska hadn't noticed before, and which lead into another large cavern. What Vriska was faced with there was something she had never expected.
Vriska had thought the meeting chamber had been large, and so she wasn't even prepared for the sheer amount of space in this room. The chamber was more than twice the size of the meeting chamber, and obviously used more often than it. Half of the floorspace was taken up by a deep pool of water, large enough to swim comfortably in and for a troll even the size of a large purple to sink into well over their head. Around it was arranged what Vriska could only describe as a lavishly appointed respite block. One corner, sheltered by the wall of the entrance crack, held a huge rest slab, and along the walls were arranged dressers, desks, tables, and even a small armory filled with tridents and spears. Everything was done in that distinct shade that was the royal blood color, though much of it was splattered with spots of other bloods. Apparently Veruna's propensity for decorating with the blood of her kills wasn't limited to only her clothing and horns.
"You've..." Vriska said in shock, only to get a chuckle from Veruna.
"No, not entirely. I've got other blocks around other meeting locations. They've been filled over the sweeps with gifts from my followers. The pools take some true work. I've had psionics brought in to create them, then decorated with their blood. Doesn't it make a lovely effect on the walls?"
"I suppose," Vriska said, trying to hold back her nausea as she realized that the faint discolorations of the stone walls were deliberate, were old blood. It was almost horrifying. How long had Veruna been working in this place for the blood to be so faded? How many had died because they were 'low' in Veruna's eyes, how many because they'd tried to do what Vriska was doing but didn't have the psychic gift and support to pull through? "Forgive me, but I've never been fond of painting, myself. I don't like dirtying my hands with the swill."
"To each their own," Veruna mused, laughing. "There is a temporary slab set up for you in the far corner. It's where I place guests I'm entertaining. Oh, but do not worry dear, you'll get a different kind of hospitality from me. For one thing, I have every intention of you making it through the night. Now, we'll have to get back to work in a few hours, but you are welcome to relax in my pool for a while before you sleep. I'll awaken you when I've contacted those I have in place to gather information for you. It will be a few hours. When I return we will eat and begin the next phase of planning, with a few other of my trolls. Don't worry, no one will disturb you in here."
"Thank you for your kindness," Vriska mumbled, bowing in place. This was likely as much a test as anything else. The eagerness and deceit filling the air more than indicated it to Vriska. Good thing she hadn't brought anything that could damn her except for her husktop, and that had once again been locked down by Sollux. While she slept Veruna would likely send someone to riffle through her stuff, not that they'd find much more than her favorite clothing, some other small personal items, and her husktop. Things would be fine.
Soon enough Vriska was left alone in the block, Veruna slipping out and off to who knew where. With a sigh Vriska made for the slab in the corner—far smaller and less comfortable looking than Veruna's—and started to hide her stuff under the mattress, pillows, and other areas. Hiding it would be expected, and she wasn't going to disappoint. Well, that wasn't true, she was going to disappoint. There had been another emotion lurking below the surface with Veruna. A kind of underlying desire that told Vriska that Veruna wouldn't mind if she walked back in and found Vriska waiting on Veruna's own slab. Not that they were serious feelings, like the ones Vriska was familiar with from Kanaya. No, it was more ephemeral, fleeting, a little idea in Veruna's mind that she wasn't about to pursue, but wouldn't reject.
Once her stuff was tucked away Vriska grabbed a fluffy towel from a shelf of them near the pool, stripped down to her bare skin, and slipped into the water on the shallow end of the pool. The fact that there even was a shallow end was comforting. A native seadweller really didn't need one, not with how their gills took over under water, but Vriska had never been a strong swimmer. More like a floundering fool—Veruna would have loved that pun—and she wasn't willing to risk a deeper exploration. That being said, she was all but covered with sand, and the idea of being free of the grit was too tempting to pass up.
The water was surprisingly warm, all things considered. Vriska had always thought that seadwellers preferred cold water, that they handled heat far worse than she did. Maybe, Vriska wondered, it was just a stereotype based on blood colors and temperatures, and the common temperature of the ocean, but maybe Veruna was more mad than anyone ever seemed to acknowledge. Either way the heat on her skin was pleasant, and Vriska began to wish she had a bar of Kanaya's scented cleaning bars. But no, there was no chance of that. This was Veruna's personal access to the primal desires of a seadweller. Polluting it with cleaning supplies would never even cross her mind. Which meant Vriska had little choice but slip back out of the pool, dripping wet, to grab another towel for her to scrub the sand off with.
Still, without cleaning chemicals to concern her, there was little that Vriska could do. The towels didn't quite serve to get all of the dust and sand free of her hair, and in the end Vriska surrendered to the frustrating attempt, and hauled herself from the pool. The wet towel was tossed aside towards a soiled clothing receptacle near the wall, and the dry one wrapped around her. On Vriska the towel was almost large enough to be a short dress, which was hardly surprising due to the fact that Veruna had two feet on Vriska before horns even began to come into play. In fact, the towel was so large on her that Vriska grabbed a second carried it over to the slab, to use as a warming cloth. It would be large enough that it should serve to keep her covered, even if she shifted in her sleep.
Wrapped in the towel and covered by another, Vriska closed her eyes and forced herself to sleep. Who knew when the next time she would get the chance to sleep, without resorting to her hidden sopor pills, would be.