[BATT] A Friendly Talk (Sinter + Sarcel)

[seekingCylem]

In the wake of the infamous Imperial Debutante party, Sinter invites Sarcel over to have a chat about his moirail.

 

[seekingCylem]

Sinter’s hive was warm. Cozy, even, especially with the flat expanse of sand and darkness stretching out beyond the windows. Sinter brought a tray of tea and cookies to the kitchen table, adding to the homey atmosphere. Carefully, he poured Sarcel and himself a cup before sitting down himself. He gestured to the cream and sugar bowl for Sarcel to help herself.

”I’m sure you’re wondering why I wrote to you asking for this visit. I mean, I explained in my letter, but that doesn’t make the circumstances any less strange.” Sinter stirred sugar into his tea and set his spoon on the edge of his saucer.

”As Tamiya’s moirail I’ve of course been regaled with the tragedy of the Empress’s party, hence how I know about you and received your contact information. What I’d like to know is your take on what occurred at that dreadful, dare I say, ******** regarded Sarcel across the table cautiously. He didn’t get any suspicious vibes from her, which was impressive considering her caste, but she was a blueblood all the same. One who happened to be around when his moirail got shot in a burning building none the less.

”Tamiya spoke highly of you from your time at the party. I’m sure you know from speaking with her that Tamiya’s stories tend to be… artfully told. I want to know exactly what went down there that night.”

Sinter held both sides of his teacup but made no motion to drink from it.

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Vaguely uncomfortable, was a better way to describe it. Hands in her lap, Sarcel sat rather stiffly as she watched Sinter shuffle around, arranging accommodations. Ever since the letter that arrived at her hivestem, Sarcel really wondered just what sort of troll Tamiya's moirail could possibly be, but meeting the individual in question really didn't shed any light on the matter. The most that stood out was their wildly differing apparel.

Sinter was entirely pleasant at least (make that differing apparel and personality), though it was a little baffling. The incident—actually, Sinter articulated it perfectly; the <******** had occurred was still fresh in her mind, and it was definitely adding to the unnecessary tension, at least on Sarcel's part. Having no experience with tea, she hesitantly went for the cookies, nibbling on one thoughtfully.

She nodded slowly throughout Sinter's explanation. Tamiya spoke highly of you—her eyes widened, free hand thrumming on her leg. She balled it into a small fist, released it again along with the tension from her body. She supposed she would have been concerned too, had she been in Sinter's spot, knowing what went down at the party...

She cleared her throat, "Makes sense," she started with a very small smile, watchful for any changes in Sinter's demeanor. She wasn't here to make enemies after all, and she hoped Sinter wasn't either. "It was... hectic. <********> sums it up nicely. A total of five murders, no clear cause ever established for the first one that started the damn thing. I actually wonder what exactly happened myself."

And it was true. The bad blood present, the enormous amount of incriminating evidence scattered in Awassi's hive, along with the disappearance of the diva themselves at the end, the cause of Epratt's murder unknown and even the death of Comedi; there were a whole lot of questions and barely any answers.

"There was an altercation at the end of the night, where Miss Aiguma was shot along with one of the other party-goers. I... assume that's what this is about?" Sarcel wasn't trying to be vague, but it was hard enough keeping her voice steady enough to speak what she did. The cookie was finished, and Sarcel finally took to the cup of tea, bringing it to her lips. It took immense willpower not to make a face at the pungent bitterness.

seekingCylem

f o u of

 

[seekingCylem]

Sinter’s eyebrow twitched at the phrase “five murders,” but he otherwise said nothing while Sarcel gave him her rundown of the situation. With much difficulty, he took a calming breath and placed his cup back on its saucer.

”Altercation.” Sinter wanted nothing more than to say more swear words.

”Yes, you would be correct. My moirail made friends and got shot in the same night, to say nothing of everything else that happened. I’d like to disentangle the threads that make up this story. Talking to you seems to be the fastest way to go about things. Two birds, one stone so to speak.”

Sinter gave Sarcel no indication that he was planning to lighten up anytime soon. Without looking down from Sarcel, Sinter took a cookie from the plate and dipped it in his tea before taking a bite.

”To my understanding it was the hiveowner that took the shot? The diva?” Sinter probably could have recognized Erilyn Awassi’s music had it been presented to him, but for the most part his tastes were limited to what could be picked up by his clunky, old radio. ”For what reason do you believe Tamiya was shot?”

Tamiya had given Sinter plenty of reasons, but he was more interested in hearing the hypothesis of someone who wasn’t superstitious. Probably superstitious, at least. Sinter could only hope he could walk away from this meeting without getting hexed or something.

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Maybe it was just the bitter tea, maybe it was how intense Sinter was grilling her. Sarcel licked her lips of the clean of the liquid, setting the small cup back down on the table. She supposed she couldn't... really blame him. She'd probably be doing the same thing in his position, moirail involved and what not.

Didn't mean she appreciated it.

She took her time formulating a response. "Honestly? I only heard the gunshots. There were... three?" Her eyes looked up in thought. She remembered that night like it was yesterday of course, but everything felt like it happened so fast that parsing the details into words was a little difficult.

"She wasn't the only one shot was the point I'm making. There was Aiguma, Eostre Diazzi was the other—I assume you probably know about her too, knowing me and all. Not sure if the third found its mark or not"

Reasoning for her being shot? Sarcel had to think on that one, other than the obvious. Awassi had been convicted of murder and was more than intent on wiping everyone out. Did she need any other reasoning? Self defense seemed pretty plausible, but...

"Do you have any idea who Awassi's moirail was, the diva?" Sarcel leaned back against the chair, crossing her arms, "Deburu Comedi." she let that sink in for a moment, "Your moirail was especially fond of him, I assume you could guess the reason why."

"Strange finding him dead at the top of her respite block. Was avoiding him during the investigation too. Not sure what's up with that. Anyway, Aiguma? She's a member of their faith too, ain't she? Just my two cents. But Awassi could have just been trying to take down a couple more with her for the hell of it, as far as I know."

seekingCylem

 

[seekingCylem]

Sinter nodded. He knew who Eostre was by name at the very least. And from what he’d gathered, between the two bluebloods, Sarcel was the better choice to call out to an impromptu tea party in what was basically the middle of nowhere. It was nothing against Sarcel. Eostre just seemed far less likely to put up with a redblooded interrogation.

And while Sinter still wasn’t entirely sure if Tamiya was even capable of experiencing embarrassment, he was still hesitant to go around harassing girls Tamiya had described as pretty on her behalf.

Well, not exactly “pretty,” but whatever string of nouns and adjectives Tamiya had thrown together in the moment that had been slightly less grotesque than the usual descriptors.

Even with all that in mind, Sarcel’s patience seemed to be wearing thin with the hard-edged questioned.

”Why on Alternia would Awassi kill their own moirail? Not to mention be in a moirallegiance with a clown in the first place if they hated juggalos? Sounds like nonsense to me.”

Sinter sighed in aggravation. ”What kind of backwards investigation was being run that five murders, not to mention non-fatal casualties, could occur at one dinner party with no motives? I swear… And to think trolls are supposed to be some kind of intergalactic threat. We’re all gonna drop dead of ‘inexplicable’ head wounds before we make it to space again.” Sinter trailed off into unintelligible muttering whilst pinching the bridge of his nose.

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Squeeze. "Look, I want answers too you know. It isn't like they've found Awassi's body either."

She was sitting up straight again, "Not to mention the obscene amount of incriminating evidence placed around their hive. Ties with some rebellion faction, all sorts of other personal bullshit. We were just supposed to investigate one death. Was it a set up? Some sort of conspiracy? ******** if I know."

But Sinter was right, that idea sort of did make little sense. It still stung a little; Sarcel was trying not to take it personal, but the fact remained there was a dead goddamn juggalo up there, "The fact is, there was an attempt on both juggalos present that night. Only difference is that one died. Whoever killed Comedi; whatever, ******** it. Awassi still shot at Aiguma, despite any respect they may or may not have had for that sanction of faith, not to mention they admitted to sedating their precious moirail to god and everyone. Maybe they just wanted everyone dead, but then why didn't they just mow down everyone in that room? Hell, if you think about it, it was both highbloods that got shot. We found evidence of Awassi's ties to the rebellion insurgent. They even set the whole damn hive on f-fire—"

She took a deep breath, none of that. She was getting a little heated, remembering her frustrations that night.

"It might be as nonsensical as you think. None of it adds up to the first murder. Personally? I wouldn't have called Awassi guilty. Guilty of other things, sure, but the murder? There was no motive there. None that we could have found among everything else." she huffed a little, "Let me start a little further back. It all started out with these invitations we got. There was a second letter that followed, everyone got one." she would have produced it if she could, but unfortunately that had gone up in smoke, "They all had these... bizarre tasks included in them. Guard the Nutrition Block, Learn about the Songbird, continue your work, uphold military standards—and that one ended in ******** murder too." she practically spat.

"Who the sent those? Where did that add up? What was the point? According to the contents, I shouldn't even be telling you this. Was the party just a ruse, a stress test, a cover to get a bunch of adults killed? Hell, you could be putting every conspiracy out there to fire if you wanted."

seekingCylem

angry1

 

[seekingCylem]

Sinter’s nose wrinkled at Sarcel’s increasingly tense tone of voice. Distasteful, but understandable. He supposed. If he was being generous. Still, he stayed quiet while Sarcel continued recounting that night.

”Perhaps I was being too soft when I referred to the night as a ‘********> Sinter commented dryly between sips of tea. It was hard to tell if he was joking. His face had become quite pinched in irritation.

”So to put things simply, a lot of people died and nobody knows how or to what ends. Weren’t the lot of you royalist field agents and military personnel?”

To be honest, Sinter wasn’t sure if he could have done much better had he been in any of the other partygoers’ shoes. Still, as long as they were on the topic of conspiracy theories, there was some part of Sinter that considered the idea that Sarcel was hiding details from him. She had every reason to, by the sound of it. After all it wasn’t like they even knew each other. He was just some tangentially related lowblood.

The lack of control Sinter had over the situation was pissing him off.

Melancholies

*slowly turns up the emotional thermostat*

 

[Melancholies]

"Perhaps you were." her agreement was nonchalant, almost dismissive. Honestly, ******** seemed pretty accurate still, but it was obvious that Sinter was getting frustrated with the lack of... closure. Hell, it wasn't Sarcel's fault no one could find anything.

"You know, Heilig, that is exactly what happened." Her finger was tapping against her sleeve "Even with the Queen herself there, absolutely none of us could figure it out. You gonna doubt her skills too?"

After a moment of tension, her arms slowly slackened, uncrossing themselves. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, propping her head up on her fist. She was just about getting tired with this little chat-turned-interrogation. She wanted to have respect for Tamiya's moirail, and she really wanted to empathize with his frustrations, but when she was just as frustrated with the situation...

"Say," she straightened up only slightly "How come you weren't there, then? You know Aiguma better than anyone—moirail and all—I mean, shouldn't you have been there to keep an eye on her? You don't have to take your regret out on me."

She reached for another cookie, took a purposeful bite, chew and swallow. "I mean, we at least had the common sense to arm ourselves in case of danger, being ordered to split up with a murderer on the loose and all. 'Course, I guess the knife I gave her wouldn't have done much against a gun anyway..."

xseekingCylem

slams the heat to 150

 

[seekingCylem]

Sinter had more than half a mind to doubt the queen’s skills. Historically speaking, Alternia had been a sorry state of affairs ever since the Vast Glub. This most recent queen was barely older than the lot of them. A redblood like Sinter knew a government ran on the cogs in the machine just as much, if not more than the one at the control panel. Who was to say what she’d contributed to anything? Perhaps that crude drawing she’d posted as a target in her Bloodfest booth.

Sinter seethed. It normally wasn’t like him to think so… treasonously, but to be honest he was silently throwing a tantrum. Sarcel was quickly degrading from annoyed to belligerent.

”Excuse me?” Sinter froze. It took a moment of silence on his part and a great deal of effort to return his cup to its saucer without clattering it.

”What do you- What do you know about being Tamiya’s moirail!? If you’re going to turn this around on me, perhaps I should have attended, because clearly the rest of you were incompetent.”

Honestly Sinter was still feeling the sting of allowing a rebel trespasser to slip out from beneath his nose on his last intelligence assignment. The last thing he’d wanted was to attend a party celebrating royalist victories when all he’d done recently was ******** up. Still, he wasn’t about to let one of his few points of pride as Tamiya’s moirail be tarnished in his own home... Even if backtalking a highblood four castes above him was a profoundly bad idea.

Melancholies

yooooo

 

[Melancholies]

"Absolutely nothing," despite the heat in her cheeks and the irritation boiling beneath the surface, Sarcel honestly didn't know a damn thing about moirallegiance. One fact still remained:

"Sorry, but honestly you being there wouldn't have changed a damn thing either." it was a frustrating truth. All Sarcel had to hold onto was that invitation at the end— well, invitation for her to use someone else's invitation, anyway. She frowned at that thought; seemed like incompetence was all over the place in tonight's conversation.

"Are we done here?" she hadn't let her gaze waver even slightly as she met Sinter's eyes; such boldness still felt a little awkward when she was so accustomed to shyness, but her annoyance at the situation made her feel rightly defensive.

seekingCylem

< u <

 

[seekingCylem]

"Well I certainly couldn't have made things worse," Sinter snapped, "If this conversation has been anything to go by."

Frustration rolled off of Sinter in waves. He stood from his seat, partially to escort Sarcel from his hive, but also to take advantage of the height difference he had over her.

"Lowbloods aren't afforded this level of ignorance, you know. Had you been anything but a blueblood you would have been properly interrogated by now. Unfortunately I'm not in any position to be forcing information out of you. At least not through proper channels." Sinter muttered the last part as far under his breath as he could muster given his poor temperament.

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Sarcel's eye twitched. It was a slight movement, maybe noticeable to astute observer. It was obvious that Sarcel was annoyed, yes, but she hated to show that it was this far under her skin at this point. Sinter's remark only served to drive her failure home. No no, it was a team effort, no one got anywhere... she had to remind herself, but damn if a selfish little part of her didn't want to be the hero. Ah, that was sort of a sore spot too...

As it was, she was just glad to be on her way out. Sinter's height definitely did not go unnoticed, as Sarcel really had to crane her head to make eye contact (and that, honestly, was absolutely vexing). She would have been fine to leave it at that, really. She'd go back to her hive, cool down, maybe even apologize to Sinter at a later date and perhaps they could have an actually friendly discussion on the matter. Tensions were just high and everyone was in the dark and frustrated and wanting answers and all right, she could get that. But it was that last little comment that made her feet stop just before she passed him on the couch.

Sarcel couldn't know what life was like as a redblood, or anything but a highblood for that matter. She could be ignorant, even though she tried not to be. It wasn't really worth arguing over.

She only barely heard it, probably because of the closer proximity, but it was enough to make her eyes narrow. "Wh-What was that?" her stutter was incredulous, not one from fear. She took it personal. "Was that a threat?"

seekingCylem

round and round and round and round it goes (soon probably I think but I'm having fun with this so whatever LOL)

 

[seekingCylem]

Sinter held his ground. His pride refused to let him back down to Sarcel regardless of every objective fact indicating what a bad decision he was making. This conversation had been nothing but cagey remarks and tension. Sinter was sick to death of it. His patience had eroded a long time ago.

"It's whatever you want to make of it. Highblood." Sinter glared coldly down at Sarcel. If he could have reasonably picked her up and kicked her outside he probably would have.

Melancholies

Ahaha, same. I'm enjoying watching the countdown to blast-off.

 

[Melancholies]

There was a small voice in the back of Sarcel’s head. It was quiet, soft, barely there, and it whispered ‘don’t, you’ll probably regret this’, and in that split second of conversation did she dutifully respond back ‘yeah, more than likely.’

Her face contorted into a glare, much sharper than the simple simmering glower she wore before. Sarcel believed in the caste system, yeah, but she believed a good deal in equality too. The events that transpired at that party weren’t her fault, and she wasn’t going to take being interrogated like she was some sort of perpetrator. She wanted to know what happened as much as anyone else. As far as she was concerned, blood color has nothing to do with any of it.

“Don’t talk to me like that!” her voice was rising, posture defensive and bristling. Grabbing whatever happened to be closest to her—which happened to be that ornate little tea cup she’d been drinking from so daintily only moments ago—she hurled it at the redblood, not really caring if it hit its mark or not. It'd been thrown with enough force to break, and that was really all that mattered to make a point.

Quote:

HP: 20/20
DMG DEALT: 0
Invisibility (Novice Agi B): 1/1
Adept Artifact Defense Style A (Swhings): 4/4

seekingCylem

oh hi