[GRO] Eostre Diazzi - Adult

[Sypon]

The fight drew on, and the seasoned fighter seemed to gain energy the farther she pressed Eostre back. She stepped casually over Bastia and surged with a hook.

Then, the door to the office opened: Piazio. Still on auto-pilot, he entered and closed the door before realizing he was about a foot away from Eostre's back. Confusion flitted over his face before he spotted the still form of Bastia, and his bloodpusher leapt into his throat. "Wha--"

"She killed Bastia!" Khmera spat out; she didn't waste any time concocting any further stories. With Piazio a suitable distraction, she honed in on one of her discarded knives. Khmera swept down in an instant, spinning the knife handle and launching it straight as a bolt towards Eostre's face.  

[purplerosesbeauty]

As Eostre took another step back, the other blueblood was there. Eos opened her mouth to respond to the accusation, but before she could, the blade landed firmly in her eye, her vision filling with blue blood and white hot pain around the edges. Her hand flew to her face and she screamed. A moment, breathing heavily as she tried to orient herself. "You! ********, Piazio, she killed her! You're next!" she hissed, all pretense of the Bunnie persona and voice gone, trying to wrench the blade out of her face through the pain. She couldn't let her get away, she still had her mission and if she couldn't get her taken out for this, she'd--

She hadn't planned for this. For something to go this wrong. The possibility that she might actually fail? That she might die? Her mind raced. How could she convince Piazio to not kill her in the instant he processed anything? "The papers!" she yelled, gripping the twice-bloodied knife as she launched herself forward, to Khmera. Less calculated now, and much more desperate. Her hands were balled into fists, holding the blade tightly as she slashed.

 

[Sypon]

Piazio was frozen, but the ink on his skin seemed to shimmer and contort in his panic. He watched for a split-second longer: Khmera's complexion was now marked with open wounds, blue blood from both women pouring.

"P-papers?"

Khmera grabbed at Eostre's wrists, but as they were slicked with blood she couldn't get a grip. Fortunately, the younger fighter was desperate and wounded.

"Help me!" She screamed. "Please!"

The bookie had made up his mind: stop the threat (currently slashing), and tend to Bastia (hopefully still alive). His bloodpusher pounded as he raced into the fray, unarmed but using the full weight of his wiry body to plow into Eostre and take her to the ground.  

[purplerosesbeauty]

"She's a criminal and I'm on a mission!" Eostre hissed, writhing and trying to take out Khmera before she could lie any further, before she failed the mission. Already jeopardized, already compromised. But not fully, not yet. Her eye was throbbing, swollen and starting to shut, and sweat was dripping from her brow as she fought against the other woman, unable to get any attacks in. She had only the desperate strength, her quick thoughts, and the knife.

Piazio slammed into her, and as she didn't expect it, his sudden weight sent her to the floor with a grunt of pain. She fumbled for the blade, and couldn't find it with her obscured vision. Frustrated, she blew air through her teeth and shoved him off roughly, pushing with both hands, kicking him to get some distance so she could pull herself up."I won't hesitate to take out anyone interfering," she said to him coldly. She reached for the other hidden knife in her waistband. The only other one she had, having not been wearing her coat. "Bastia didn't want you to die so don't be stupid."

She tried to go for Khmera again, intending to finish her. Eostre couldn't let her win, to get away, to make her fail. Not when she was so close. She'd deal with the bookie if she had to, if there was no choice.

 

[Sypon]

A mission. Reality fully crystallized for Khmera, now. No matter what, Eostre was a known agent. There was no frame job strong enough to hide the fact that she was working for the Empire, to hide the fact that Khmera was under investigation for a reason. It was time to go.

"Piazio." Khmera warned, but the rookie fighter was frozen again with fear and confusion. She frowned. Two against one now, it seemed - or, at least, she had lost any semblance of back-up. "Tch. What good are you. Bastia was wrong; you're cullfodder."

She briskly side-stepped to grab the discarded knife on the ground. With a blinded enemy, she had one opening to disable her before making her escape - injuries or none. Khmera brutally shoved the blade towards Eostre, releasing the hilt and twisting back towards the door.

Meanwhile, Piazio scrambled over to Bastia's still form and propped her up, pressing his hands to her neck and murmuring at her. "Kelpin... Please, Kel, please..."  

[purplerosesbeauty]

Eostre moved away from the oncoming thrusted blade, but not quick enough. It made contact, sinking in a few inches into her arm, thrown defensively to block the attack. She sucked air in tightly through her teeth, muscles tensing and yet more blue blood flowing. A goddamn mess. Eostre could hardly see, feeling almost lightheaded. Piazio was not going to help - she couldn't count on civilians that way anyhow. This was her assignment.

She held onto the wound on her arm, staunching the bleeding as Khmera ran through the door, her pumpbiscuit sinking. s**t. s**t. She was getting away and she couldn't chase fast enough. She hadn't... done this perfectly. The way she envisioned. Eos still had to gather the evidence, the papers she carelessly threw everywhere, before someone else got it. She'd... work on something else. Khmera couldn't get far - and if she did, Eostre would find her. Hopefully. Eostre tore at her shirt, cutting strips of fabric from the bottom with her knife awkwardly. She couldn't bleed all over the evidence, of course.

Kneeling by Piazio for the moment, she frowned. "I'm sorry. I tried... " she looked to reword the events, to put herself in a better light, but she couldn't find it. Not yet. Not like this."Khmera was going to kill her, and I didn't manage to stop her quickly enough." Eostre offered some of the fabric to him so he wouldn't have to use his hands, but she wasn't sure if it'd be much help now to the seadweller.

She finished wrapping her arm, dabbing the blood off of her dripping face, wiping her filthy hands on her pants to dry them. The facial bleeding had mostly stopped it seemed, though it was hard to tell without being able to see all that well now. She picked up the papers, not bothering to be neat as she'd have to leave quickly. Just grabbing, careful not to rumple and ruin any, gathering the wildly strewn evidence in silence.

Sypon

 

[Sypon]

Eostre’s target stumbled out the door, but the tension in the room seemed just as tense. Piazio took the fabric from Eostre, then muttered curses and stripped off his own shirt to wipe up the scene. She was barely breathing, shallow and barely visible, head propped up in the blueblood’s lap. A light tap of her weathered fingers on Piazio’s wrist made him start.

“Hey, hey, it’s gonna be fine…” He muttered, offering her a shaky smile. Something just short of a chuckle whispered out of her.

“You’re gonna be fine.” She responded. Bastia gave Piazio one final squeeze with her hand and relaxed, tension fading away. She was gone.

A long moment of silence in the room was met with the shuffling of papers. Piazio took a deep breath. “Okay. Hey. Bunnie, or… Whatever your name is.”

He gestured to his back, still sitting carefully on the ground with his mentor tucked gently on his lap. “I’m forming the coordinates and addresses for Khmera’s contacts and hideouts. I doubt she’ll be able to get far, so I’ve triangulated a map of her safe spaces in order of probability. Do you have a communicator?”

He stripped the band - matching the one Khmera had used earlier - off of his wrist and held it up. “You can tune this to your signal.”

Piazio ducked back down. His forehead nearly touched Bastia’s, eyes closed in grief, but his mind was working. Pigment welled across his back like spilled ink, fading where he scrubbed away old information and replaced them with blots of new coordinates, imagery and numbers in a sweeping matrix.  

[purplerosesbeauty]

Eostre tried not to look at the display too much. It stirred uncomfortably, awkwardly. An intimacy she didn't understand, and wasn't a part of, and was the cause of. She idly wondered how close they really were. Close enough Bastia seemed genuinely mortified at the idea he might get killed too. Well, he wasn't dead. The least she could have done for the seadweller, she supposed. A frown twisted on Eostre's face, as she found it difficult to properly filter her feelings at the moment. She found a folder to keep all the paper in, and kneeled again to look at Piazio's back. Even now, she avoided looking at the corpse too much.

"Of course I have a communicator," she replied. No need to give her name just yet. She'd almost forgotten the device though amongst all the chaos. It wasn't as if it would have helped much, anyhow. It was for communication with her handler mostly... and generally hidden. She reached into her boot and pulled out the thin, black object. After a moment, she tuned the signals.

His power was incredible to watch, like a painting in motion, but something more raw than musclebeast portraits and other fine art. Washing like waves clearing the sands, all the data and other miscellaneous things she couldn't understand gone as new information replaced it. Her eye scanned it, looking for familiar landmarks she could use to orient herself to the map Piazio created. "Your help is... greatly appreciated."

 

[Sypon]

Piazio fully realized the data and gave Eostre a nod. “Thanks.” He said, simply. He was out of words, out of will. He simply slid the band back on his wrist and let the spy take the time she needed to record and repeat his information to her people.  

[purplerosesbeauty]

Eostre was glad for the silence. She called her handler - letting them know foremost that it was urgent, Khmera fled the premises and was not likely to be far from the Violet Knuckles. There were other contacts as well she had information for. She relayed the locations and coordinates Piazio showed, Khmera's hiding places and safe spaces, copying them down on the inside flap of her folder as she spoke.

"Additionally, I'm ready for extraction now. Minor... to moderate injuries on my end. A single casualty as far as I can tell. I have the assets required of me, so I can make my report soon," she concluded. There was more than enough to take out the whole fradulent operation now, along with all of those helping Khmera run it. A lot of orphaners... the Queen might hurt a little with the drop in that line of work.

Still, Eostre felt herself stewing in the dark feeling she'd done poorly. She'd done what she was supposed to, of course, but it wasn't enough. She hadn't been enough. Now she required back up, to be helped and to patch up her mess. She wasn't... used to feeling this way, like something heavy in the pit of her body. Uncertainly lingering in a way she didn't typically experience. Her head pounded dully, the pain getting worse now as her adrenaline wore off and the danger had subsided. She looked and felt a mess now - torn and bloodied clothing, messed up makeup, a sheen of sweat and the ugly injury to her eye. The thoughts she'd been putting off were a bit more clearer now - if she'd been even slightly more unlucky, she would have failed completely. She would have died.

 

[Sypon]

“Roger. Units en route.” The orders on the other end of the receiver, sending troops to Eostre’s location and the coordinates, were cut off as the communication line dropped. The office was quiet.

--

LATER….

The investigation had checked out: the ring collapsed. Khmera, a fugitive for a few more nights, had been seized in one of the locations Piazio had conjured during a moment of clarity in his grief. She would be held, put on swift trial, and summarily executed.

Mojaan Ruxack’s crimes drifted, hazy, into the light. Blackmailed by one Muayia Khmera after a bloody lusus-related Orphaner dispute gone wrong, her crimes landed her immediately in the Punishment Pits along with other Violet Knuckles workers who were not otherwise culled.

Of all trolls to escape unharmed, Huunda Jelico managed to get scooped up by the Alternian League of Gladiaterrors thanks to his charisma and obliviousness to all wrong-doing. ‘Bunnie’ would receive a post-card of him (featuring his poolside abs and an umbrella-tipped drink) in Four Fronds inviting her for a skirmish and margs.

Nights after Khmera’s capture, a solemn military parade consumed Civisect City. The highly decorated Kelpin Bastia was an honored public figure, exemplified by the huge turnout for the procession. The night was grim and damp, unpleasant meager drops splattering against a crowd-cover of black umbrellas as the mist soaked the mourners. As usual, there would be no body, no fond cast-off, merely a reminder to the Alternian public of military pride and the imminence of mortality. The crowd dissolved into the haze after hours of marching, off to presumably imbibe and smash up the town in a suitable Alternian fashion.

Finally, the very evening after Bastia’s tribute, Eostre received a plain envelope from one Luzzid Beldan. It was a copy of his superior’s report, with a personal note attached.

“Greetings. Given that statistical accuracy is my bag I wasn’t able to fudge any of your numbers, but hey, we got ‘em eventually so that’s good. Anyway. The bosses weren’t so nice about this one, Diazzi. As far as I’m concerned it’s a pack of vermin off the streets, but what do I know. The only thing I’m mad about is that I’ll need a new dive for drinks and sports, and I don’t do coliseum seating. Report attached.”

The aforementioned ‘heat’ came from Eostre’s report. Her thorough, steady investigation was noted, with earmarked comments given for certain avenues not taken and leads not followed. The breakdown occurred in the final days of the investigation, namely Eostre’s strategic flaws and ‘singular overconfidence’ - words were not minced. A primary pain point concerned the killing of Kelpin Bastia, considered a target of interest not only salvageable but ideal for Alternian military propos in a budding new military space age, as well as a time-tested loyalist and veteran. Loss of [seadwelling] life is, in itself, a major tactical error. While the mission was ultimately successful, Khmera’s escapades led to both positive and negative outcomes, with some of her network having time to escape with her managing to flee, while others were brought down on account of her desperate hiding. And - of course, orphaners needing to be backfilled due to the sudden hole in their numbers which was ultimately for the good of the general occupation. Overall, a positive result. Utilization of information was on par, combat under stress was on par, subterfuge was on par with aforementioned errors of varying severity. A middling grade.

There was a sticky note at the bottom of the page, as well. Luzzid’s handwriting, of course. “Hope your wounds heal up soon. Looking forward to working with you again.”  

[purplerosesbeauty]

The following nights immediately after the mission end were the worst. The agent couldn't rest, fitfully finding sleep eluding her. She'd been bandaged and tended to for her wounds. Her eye wasn't hit deeply, or anywhere particularly dangerous. Her medic reported although there may be some damage, it was likely to be minimal. But that wasn't what kept her awake, as vain as she could be. It wasn't until Khmera was caught she was able to sigh with relief and sleep. Mistakes rectified, as much as they could possibly be. Her death was justice. The rest of her criminal crew swept into the pits like the trash they were. Fools to get caught, worse off to trust someone else with criminal activity.

Huunda's postcard was a fun surprise, after all of this. She'd have to take him up on his offer, if he didn't mind Bunnie's change in appearance.The gladiaterror fights were lovely, after all. He was well suited to the work, and legality was better for the greenblood's sort. She would miss fighting him on the constant basis she had at the Violet Knuckles.

Bastia's parade was more time to reflect - she might want to take a cue from the old seadweller and try to cultivate a public image and become a figure that was respected as well. She'd always wanted to be able to guide others in this field... perhaps she would get the opportunity as she rose military ranks herself. Time for underlings and loyal assistants. She got drinks after the parade, reading her report quietly in her room with a bottle of her favorite soporific beverage. She locked her lusus out for this.

It was as bad as she feared. The report was honest in the harshest way. Nothing she could have done could have softened the blows. So much for her untainted, perfect military record. However, she was a fighter. She learned quickly, didn't she? And well... if this was her first let down, the death of an already disabled, retired seadweller (despite her standing), could that really be the worst she could have done? She chewed her lip, poring over the commentary and critique. Singular overconfidence. That was her true flaw wasn't it? Not that she was simply too good, but that she believed that. Now that she'd had the time to think, she knew what she could have done better. How she could have been careful, quieter, gathered more information. Started working quicker even. Or perhaps gaining the trust of the various trolls she interacted with. A bitter success.

She'd be better. She wouldn't let her superiors down again, or let Regina lose confidence in her hand-picked VIP. Eostre would build her own network, become stronger and smarter and better in every way she could. Her next grade would show her true worth.

Beldan's handwritten note put a smile on the blueblood's face. She was ready to get back to work as soon as possible. But first she'd have to find him a new place to drink with her.

Hivestuck

fin!