[META-PRP] Just so you know (Muerte & Aprife)

[Melancholies]

 

[Melancholies]

After Byakko's announcement of the space exploration, the Iniative's desperate need for supplies and the consequential call to action, Muerte had mulled over his roll in the entire debacle very carefully. His first thought was to go to space of course; he had never been obsesses with the cosmos like so many of his species was, but he found it hard to deny a specific curiosity that came with traversing the stars. What sort of things were up there? More important, what sort of things were there to discover? It wasn't a love for space that called to him, but his love for science and knowledge.

To that end, it'd undoubtedly be the most risky. There'd likely be opportunities aground too, or maybe other chances to get his hands on valuable things within the tower itself. Either way, the more he thought about it, the more space didn't seem worth it. There'd be a large number of rebel forces going aboard the ships anyway, so what could we he be there? Sure, he could do the doctor thing, but he also valued the skin on his back. He didn't want to get caught.

So he'd spent the last night in Salamire fussing with his hair, how he'd want his disguise to be, who he wanted to look like. Restlessness was taking hold of him. Eventually abandoning his ventures for the moment, he set off to find his hivemate.

"I don't think I'm going to space." He found Aprife in his office, likely pouring over last minute paperwork. Muerte himself stood awkwardly in the doorway.

saedusk

 

[saedusk]

A mug in one hand, a small stack of papers in the other, Aprife had been neck deep in just that—paperwork. It was imperative they had backup plans for their backup plans if they meant to gather all the supplies and information they needed without anyone getting caught. The last thing he wanted was a mess when they were still so desperately trying to build themselves up.

At first he didn't even look up from the document. He took a sip of lukewarm tea from the mug Muerte himself had gotten him for the holidays and, after a moment, finally set down his work.

"Yeah? I'm a little surprised." Another sip. "Then again, I never did peg you a front line kind of guy."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Muerte didn't seem taken aback from the comment. He'd come to have civil conversations with Aprife, ones where he didn't take everything immediately personal. "I just think it—I might serve a better purpose trying to allocate supplies. I'm tired of living this." He motioned vaguely around the hive. It was homey enough, but just that—homey. It didn't have anything especially fancy. His lab was sorely out of date.

He slowly crept into the office, taking a seat in a chair across the table. After a moment, he pulled his legs up on the chair too, let his chin rest on his knees with his hair spilling over his legs.

"I just have a number of reservations. It's just..." His glasses were absent from his face too, his good eye drifted shut, the robotic one whrring in place, "Well, what are you doing?"

saedusk

 

[saedusk]

"I don't doubt it." Aprife could've meant any number of things by that one comment alone. "I've been thinking about it, too. I'm going to space."

It finally seemed to dawn on him then how chilled his drink had become. Instead of continuing to nurse it out of habit, he set his mug down and gave Muerte his full attention. There was something surprisingly vulnerable about the way he'd showed up with his thoughts. That or Aprife was reading into it a little too much—was it wishful thinking? He was self-aware enough to know wanted to be open with Muerte.

"This is going to be a delicate operation. I need to be there to make sure everyone stays in line, but we need competent trolls on the ground just as badly."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

The greenblood hummed in thought, his eye watching the mug. He looked tired, but not in an overly exhausted way, just sleepy. "You think you'll be able to disguise yourself properly? Your horns stick out like sore thumbs." Was it meant to be a joke, or a legitimate criticism? Either way, Muerte looked less than enthusiastic. Then again, Muerte rarely looked enthusiastic unless birds were concerned. "You're absolutely correct though, someone has to watch all these idiots, make sure they don't all get captured or killed or whatever the hell." Numbers were pretty short, after all. They didn't need to be shorter.

There was still something bothering Muerte in the back of his head though. He couldn't parse it quite properly. It irked him a little. Whatever it is that he wanted to say, he didn't seem to be saying it. He fussed with the split ends of his hair instead.

saedusk

 

[saedusk]

"The horns and the hair, don't you think? Oh, and the height." Everything about him stood out like a sore thumb, didn't it? He cracked a faint smile. "Don't worry, I've got it figured out. It would be sort of embarrassing if I called everyone else out but couldn't take care of myself." The thought would never stop him from doing it, of course.

Leaning back in his chair, he crossed his arms. All joking aside, something didn't feel right. "What else is on your mind?" he asked.

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Muerte wasn't smiling, but he seemed to agree in a wry sort of way, "Right, yes, the everything. You really are a monolith of awkwardly connected features." The voice was trademark too, but Muerte didn't bring that up. The thought still made him scratch his own neck subconsciously, right under his chin.

"It's nothing really." Lies "I was just... wondering to myself if I'd miss any crucial opportunities. It seems strange that they would amass all these volunteer forces just to detonate ships. Doesn't that seem funny?" The military could get the job done with a lot greater secrecy. Maybe not as fast as they would with the bolstered numbers, but there was no real need for civilians to get involved. He shook his head. "Perhaps I'm reading into it too much."

He was silent for another beat.

"If something happens to you, then who the hell is going to get my delicate supplies off of the top shelves for me?"

saedusk

 

[saedusk]

There was a joke on the tip of Aprife's tongue about training Bumbs to get everything down for him. It was perfect, but it also didn't sit right. He felt a greater urge to comfort Muerte than poke fun. This was closer to getting an admission he'd be missed than he thought he'd hear.

"It is strange," Aprife agreed, his expression, his voice—all of it—genuine. "Except this isn't the first time the military conscripted volunteers to do their dirty work. I don't think the crown wants to hide its activity in space. I think they want all of Alternia to see what they can do." Didn't mean the rebellion was totally safe from some sort of pre-planned sabotage on Marian's part, but Aprife had a feeling that would be more trouble for them than it was worth.

Unfortunately, the Initiative wasn't enough of a threat right now.

"Going to space is dangerous," They both knew that, no point in hiding it. "but trust that I'm taking precautions." Aprife stood then, crossing to the other side of the desk and taking a seat in the second guest chair where he was considerably closer.

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

"It isn't that I don't find you capable," He watched as the taller individual crossed to the other side, his posture tensing slightly, "It's the capabilities of everyone else present. Do they have adequate medical staff?" Would they care about a "civillian lowblood"? There were a million outcomes and possibilities floating around Muerte's head, and few of them were good.

"I just don't want to be alone in this god forsaken swamp." There was a better, more precise admission. "I don't have anywhere to go outside of this place, and everyone else here is stupid. They're all morons. They're not smart like you are." He huffed petulantly, "I don't want to be stuck with them. You know, Invasi? Joining this disorganized band of imbeciles was a mistake." The grumbling was, more or less, Muerte's way of making himself feel better, rather than the actual truth.

"Maybe if you die I'll bake chocolate in Civesect." He mused. "That's rather unassuming, right? There's science in sweets, I'm sure. Precise calculations, important balancing..." He snorted, "They'll call me Wakeyn Bakeyn or something asinine. I'm sure I could come up with a clever name if I had the time." It'd likely be the obscure thought he held onto while he drifted off to sleep that morning.

saedusk

 

[saedusk]

Aprife crossed one leg over the other and relaxed into the chair, elbow on the arm, chin on hand. Definitely not as comfortable as his own.

"If I die," he said, sounding momentarily serious, "do whatever you need to do to survive. Don't stay here if you can't. I won't hold you to it. You know where the beetles are, right?" When he breathed out a small sigh a second later, the heaviness in his voice went with it. "Just take Bumbs with you. He'd be a good baking assistant. Willing to learn, at least."

The horn ring Aprife still wore around his wrist bumped Muerte as he reached out to put a hand on his arm. "Whatever happens, I'll be careful."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Despite the seriousness, Muerte actually seemed to be considering the pros to having Bumbs as a baking assitant. His eyes narrowed not suspiciously, but in genuine thought, "I suppose he would be a reliable source of honey, if nothing else." A hand was scratching his chin. It ceased when Aprife's own hand came to rest on his arm.

It got his attention, anyway. Both eyes--both ingoranic and flesh--were watching the yellowblood curiously. After a moment he seemed to fluster; "It doesn't matter, really." Ah yes, the dismissive tactic. No problem here. "It's all baseless worries. Of course you'll be fine. You're more competent than most." Whether the other Iniative members would be wasn't his concern.

After a moment, he seemed to perk up, "Oh, I know. I'll just take the iniative to ready your supplies." He knew exactly what things Aprife would need for such a vital mission. "That'll do."

saedusk

 

[saedusk]

Whatever helped Muerte sleep today sounded like a pretty good idea to Aprife. Besides, being over-prepared never hurt. Maybe he'd pack extra medical supplies. That would definitely be a good just in case to have.

"I'm on board," he agreed, "Wanna get it done now? We shouldn't stay up all day. Unless you don't want my help." Aprife laughed as his lingering touch finally fell away and he stood, stretching. There was a faint pop from a joint or two. "I really need to get some new chairs, huh?"

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

"What?" Muerte hadn't even been thinking about the chairs. What chairs? The ones they were sitting in? Oh. "I suppose. They serve their purpose though." He wiggled a little in the seat, the wooden bits groaning and wavering under his weight.

"Anyway," He cleared his throat, "I will be taking care of the preparation, thank you. Although if you must insist on helping... then you could probably help gather the supplies. I'll tell you what we need." His head craned up to watch Aprife stand.

"You see, Aprife." Muerte stood too, "It isn't just bringing things for utilitarian purposes. You need things to assist with your image." He paused, "Your disguise. You're going to fit in seamlessly. It won't be like Bloodfest, as flawless as those personas were..." He was rambling. Again.

saedusk

 

[saedusk]

"Aye, aye," he said, shooting Muerte a thumbs up, "Just tell me what to do." What he didn't comment on were their previous disguises. If he remembered correctly—which he did, Aprife had a pretty decent memory—the only real backstory to those two had been their relationship. Realistic, maybe, but flawless...? Ah well, instead he found himself wondering if that trait would end up a holdover in these iterations, too.

Wouldn't be a bad thing.

"C'mon," he urged with a hand at the greenblood's back to intercept the ramble before it really began. "I trust your judgement. Where do we start?"

Melancholies