Notes: Good news guys, gals, and those with other gender identifications. There is no more happy left! Everything from here on is the other kind of feels. So you could just stop. Turn back. Avoid pain. No? You're still here? Wonderful. Let's get to it.
Behind Blue Lies – Part 18
"Scorpio to Dorado. Read me Dorado?"
"Reading you, Scorpio. You're in position?"
"I'm in all sorts of positions. You really can't believe it. Flexibility is all sorts of wonderful."
"I am in no mood for your shenanigans, Scorpio. Are you in position?"
"Well, considering the fact that I'm the one who ordered radio silence from all until my team was in position, of course I'm in fucking position you glubbing idiot," Vriska snarled, rolling her eyes to no real end because it wouldn't be seen through the small microphone at her neck or receiver in her ear. With a sigh she leaned back against the stone wall of the alleyway and sighed.
"Good, proceed as outlined," Dorado, Kythal, hissed over the comm before the line went silent. At least the seadweller hadn't presumed to tell her what happened next. This was her plan, well to be fair it was as much Sollux's as her own, but that was beside the point. Even when planning the worst terrorist attack in Beforus's history was something she had some degree of pride in. It took a special kind of cunning, that few possessed, to pull something like this off. A pan that could hold details like a vice, and Vriska wasn't about to forget something as simple as how her team was to act? Especially after just having briefed them?
"Fucking seadwellers," Vriska sighed, dramatic and loud, earning her a few looks, and emotional flashes, of shared anguish.
It was one of the funniest parts of the idea of hemohierarchy to Vriska. Building this society Veruna wanted by war meant her 'upper' class was being made on violence. They would get a taste for it—Vriska knew because she was starting to see it in herself—and would want more. They'd want more power than they'd get. She'd seen it these sweeps, the inherent hatred and distrust the bluebloods had for seadwellers. It was a point only pushed further into her beliefs with the response to her comment from the team of purples, indigos, and the one other cerulean blood.
Even if Veruna got her desires, the fighting wouldn't stop. It would change, but not stop. Jockeying for position, highblood trolls trying to figure out internal hierarchies, fighting to control 'lowblood resources' for themselves. Today Vriska would deal the first blow in a war that would never end unless Veruna was stopped short of the throne, and maybe not even then.
Except it wasn't the first blow. There had been so many before this. Tavros, Cyclos, Karkat and Remium, and countless trolls before them. With every beating the hemohierarchists had dealt, they had declared war. All Vriska was doing was guiding the first highly visible blow.
"Well, you grubs ready?" Vriska asked, pushing off of the wall.
The rest of her team, the main part of the strike, nodded in response. Vriska, though, waited for a salute from the other cerulean with the group. He was the youngest of her team, a full two sweeps younger than she was herself, but a true believer no doubt. From what Vriska had been able to piece together from Kythal's hints, the troll had been raised by a hard line and staunch supporter of Veruna, much like Vriska had. But this one hadn't had been granted the saving grace of the vision eightfold or empathy. He hadn't been raised with others to see how they could be treated, and share their pain. No, this young troll known only to her as Bomber had always believed, strongly believed even now and was almost shaking with pride for what was being asked of him. It was this troll that had been expected to assemble the explosive that Sollux had designed, who would place it, who would risk the chance of dying to kill the Empress if something went wrong.
Here was her sacrificial pawn, and he was everything Vriska might have been had she not been born with her gifts. And in the small shoulder bag he wore was the message Veruna wanted delivered in the form of just enough explosives to make a scene, kill and Empress, and deal some serious collateral damage.
"Then let's get to it," Vriska ordered, gesturing for her team to follow her further down the alley and into the backstreets of the capital.
Their entrance, and means of attack were already secured. Kythal had pulled some strings with his plants in the palace to have Vriska's team assigned to service detail during the celebration. They would be mingling with the crowd, passing out poisoned drinks (though Vriska had seen to some personal modification of the powder they were to add to the drinks, which should let most of the victims survive until medical aid could save as many as possible), and clearing the way for Bomber to get to the podium where the Empress would give her speech about the betterment of their peoples. Kythal's team had taken up places as enforcers, something they had done very carefully to avoid raising warning flags, such as they were. That team would lock down the doors just before the explosion, trapping in the surviving trolls to bear witness to the glory of Veruna and her speech. Then that group, composed of purples and violets, would see to the escape of Veruna and the other team, before getting out themselves.
"Let this go well," Vriska whispered to herself, and as she did the slitherbeast hidden around her neck stroked her throat in as comforting a way as a slitherbeast could.
She had to have faith that Sollux and Tavros had dealt with everything necessary, even the collateral they had planned for but may have been difficult to implement with how little time they had. But Sollux had never let her down before, and so now was the worst time for Vriska to doubt him. He'd have done everything in his power, and then some, to make sure as many trolls as possible survived. The Empress too, if they were lucky. Not that Vriska saw them being that lucky. Something, some bit of her that she couldn't quite define, told her that that kind of luck wasn't going to be coming to them tonight.
Still, there was something expected of her right now, and so it was what Vriska did. Calm, collected, cold, she lead her team through the alleys and streets until they were near the palace. Then, briefly, she pressed the button on her microphone twice to signal Kythal of their arrival, then pulled it off, the headphones out, and smashed both of them under her feet. Soon, far too soon, they stood at the door of the service entrance, and Vriska was smiling at the enforcer there—a violet who radiated the kinds of anxious excitement that all the other hierarchists did today—as she waved Vriska and her group in through the service entrance door.
From there it was all so easy. Vriska had already portioned out their poisons into vials hidden up every hierarchist server's sleeves, to be sprinkled onto food and into punch bowls, and even more carefully into the glasses of bubbling drink that would be carried by the servers. Her team took their instructions from the food preparation staff well, even putting up with the rather finicky Jade blood who was in charge of things to straighten their uniforms and even hair to her satisfaction. Then, with the sign she had rehearsed with the group several times, Vriska dismissed her team to their duties.
The attack had begun.
"May I offer you a drink?" Vriska asked, as she approached yet another cluster of midbloods. This was her third tray of drinks, and because of the timing, the first she had laced with the poison. As she had been doing before, Vriska did her best to pull off the most civilized appearance she could. It was really rather simple when she thought about it, all she had to do was pretend she was Kanaya at some fancy shindig.
"Ah, yeah... I could totally go for a... Vriska?"
All Vriska could do was stare at the teal blood before her, eyes wide and shocked. Yeah, her gut feeling had been right. Luck really wasn't with her tonight. After all, only the luckless would somehow manage to stumble upon someone they knew while in the midst of a celebration. At least, of all the trolls it was, it was one Vriska wasn't particularly fond of.
"Do you know this troll, Terezi?" said one of the olive bloods near Terezi Pyrope, clad in a rather lovely dress but also wearing the bars at her shoulder that marked both this olive and Terezi as legisticators.
"Ex-Kismesis," Terezi explained, waving off further explanation.
"Oh..." the olive legisticator said, a hint of embarrassment flavoring the emotional air around Vriska.
"We ended up ashen with her flush crush," Vriska snapped, smirking viciously and watching, feeling Terezi seethe at the revelation.
"I hardly think this is time for quadrant talk," Terezi countered, giving Vriska one of her sharp smiles.
"It's never the right time for you. How sad. You've only got the blacker areas quadrants filled," Vriska teased, still smiling. If there was one thing she didn't regret, it was feigning black with Terezi. But, for all that, she didn't want the crazy bitch in that quadrant at all. Gamzee was welcome to a black relationship with Terezi, Vriska had never enjoyed it. Terezi just never let up, leaving Vriska to just beat her up until Terezi just left her be. Besides, Kanaya had been set on helping her moirail win his desired matesprit, and Vriska had been the right tool for that job.
"Vriska..."
"Do you want drinks or not?" Vriska snapped, shoving the tray forward to the group, turning it subtly to present Terezi with one of the poison-free glasses. Karkat would never forgive her anything if she let Terezi die here.
"Well, nice to see you actually working for once in your life," Terezi said, taking the offered glass and looking every bit the proper civil servant.
"Not all of us can trade in on our schoolfeeding to get into the party of the sweep," Vriska countered, feigning complete comfort with her work. Legisticators were welcome to these celebrations, as were lowbloods. Most of the higher bloods were here in some form of service, to reinforce the idea of the system. Even the Empress and Heiress, after the first few hours, would join the service, bringing meals to those older trolls who were present and were less able to walk around and seek their own food.
"Why Vriska, are you suggesting that I used less than absolutely faultless methods of acquiring my place here?" Terezi asked.
"I've never known you to come by something completely honestly in your life, Terezi. Not even your kismesis's hate."
That earned her a particularly brutal glare through Terezi's trademark crimson shades, but not enough of one that Vriska was much bothered by her. Rather, instead of letting Terezi get a word in edgewise and get the upper hand in their discussion, Vriska just turned on heel and strode away from the group, leaving the fuming—but likely outwardly calm—Terezi behind her. There was always something wonderful about leaving that girl fuming.
Still, having Terezi here was less than optimal. Even if her partner in the ashen quadrant managed to make it through the night, Karkat was going to be furious to find that Vriska might have hurt Terezi despite his best efforts to be the perfect auspitice for the two of them. Damn, the poor idiot would blame himself for all of this. As lucky as Karkat was to have his moirail near him, that didn't mean he was going to be anything but up in arms to find that Vriska might have hurt Terezi. Which left her little choice but to do one thing.
"Tavros, can you hear me?" Vriska whispered under her breath as she sidestepped around a group of lowbloods already holding drinks. Poor fools.
Two taps against her throat. Good, her moirail was still there.
"I need you to pass a message on to Sollux. Tell him Karkat needs to know I am doing everything I can to keep Terezi from harm."
Another two taps, and then Vriska was hovering on the edge of another group, this one closer to the podium than the last, offering them the poisoned drinks. Hopefully they'd survive the concoction. Sollux had helped her pick something that was slow acting when mixed with alcohols, and which hit the far hardier coldbloods before it hit the normally more easily affected warm bloods. Something about how it moved through the blood being different, but Vriska hadn't really paid attention. Hopefully some of the colder blooded trolls present would start to show the characteristic signs early enough that both they and a good deal of the lowbloods could be saved. Someone would chalk it up to foolishness on the part of the hierarchists, and Vriska would blame her supplier and offer the dead corpse of a known drug dealer to Veruna in compensation, hoping she made it through the killing. But after today, if she didn't become able to push aside some of the suffering...
Vriska easily pushed the thought out of her mind as she cordially offered drinks, letting her eyes wander instead towards the stage. The Empress, Heiress, and their entourage would soon be coming out, hopefully with the surprise addition that Sollux had said he'd try to get placed into the mix. The addition to the royal party, Sollux's move to protect the Heiress from things. After all, the last thing they wanted was for Veruna to win so easily by taking out the Empress and Heiress in one go. Sure, there were other fuchsia bloods that could take over, but none who had spent their lives training like Feferi had. The hope was that the yellow blooded enforcer woman that Sollux was trying to get placed with the royal party could protect Feferi when things happened. Sollux had sworn himself blue and red that the woman would be useful for that. That they'd met during their training in their psychic gifts, and that the other troll had been gifted with a peculiar form of clairvoyance. The yellow apparently lived both in the present and two minutes in the future. That should be just enough time that she wouldn't be able to save the Empress, but might be able to protect Feferi from the initial blast and get her out of there still glubbing.
At least, that was the hope.
A sudden hush rolled over the room, and Vriska almost froze at the emotions that rolled over here from every direction. Joy, excitement, several points of bloodthirsty satisfaction.
She already knew what she'd find, and yet Vriska let her eyes cast a little bit to the side of the podium where Bomber had likely already hidden the explosive. There, almost spilling from the only door that apparently wasn't protected by one of Kythal's enforcer replacements if Vriska was any judge of the emotions of the pair of seadwellers who stood on either side of the the door, was the royal party. A group of younger fuchsia bloods leading the way, following behind the chief of the Enforcers, Enforcer Tethys Hydrus and her ward and second in command, Eridan Ampora. Go figure he'd be here too. Oh well, if the yellow blooded troll, who Vriska now saw entering the room at the elbow of the Heiress, didn't succeed in protecting her, Vriska knew Eridan would fight to the death to protect her. That was what moirails were for. There was a slitherbeast around her throat that went far to reinforce that point. Then, finally, came Empress Gyliea, looking as regal and collected as she had the judgement chamber, when Vriska had sat before the great troll in judgement and secured freedom for her wardmates.
Gyliea didn't deserve this.
None of the trolls here deserved this.
But it had to happen.
For the war to end it had to start. And for it to start this most noble of blood had to be spilled.
Vriska waited for the Empress to reach the podium, glanced around the ballroom rapidly as the royal party took their seats between the Empress and what would be their escape route, and caught sight of the doors. Enforcers that had previously been at rather lazy parade rest were suddenly at full attention. They were primed, ready, and already Vriska could hear coughing in the far corners of the ballroom, a sure sign that the poison was claiming its first victims.
And there, when she sought far and wide with her empathy, recoiling quickly from most minds and emotions, she found the cool, self-possessed wall of serious intent that could only be Kythal. Her gift told her he stood at the rearmost door of the grand ballroom. From there Veruna would make her entrance, once the signal was given.
Again her eyes cast around, rapidly, only to barely catch sight of Bomber approaching her from behind.
A quick hand signal, down below her waist, was all that was needed. Once it was given she could sense the resolution in Bomber, and immediately Vriska—like the rest of her team around the ballroom mere moments after her—was flipping her tray to drop the drinks, and crouching down, using the sturdy metal tray to protect the back of her head and her easily damaged horns.
Confusion radiated around the whole room, and only had a moment to register in Vriska's mind before all she could process was the thundering noise of the explosion and hundreds of trolls lifting their voices in fruitless screams.
Then the room is a riot of emotions, thick and fast, and all Vriska can do is scream back in her mind, trying to keep them from overwhelming her.