[PRP] Okay but Who are You (Nahori & Sarcel)

[Melancholies]

 

[Melancholies]

Sarcel had sources. Sarcel didn't know she had sources until she started looking into her options as a highblood, but when she did there were avenues galore. Not that she really needed most of the information that she had access to anyway.

Until tonight.

The soiree that was Awassi's party was still, and would probably continue to be a brand in Sarcel's mind. Looking back on all the individuals that had attended, Sarcel realized that she hadn't actually made contact with a few individuals that were present, namely one Nahori Caviap. Taking personal charge of making sure everyone had made it out of that hive alive (even though it honestly wasn't her responsibility), the blueblood saw it fit to just... locate the orangeblood's place of residence and do a little check in. That wasn't weird right? Totally.

Orange Carrot Recipient

To whom it may concern,

Amiable salutations my fellow comrade. It is with much esteem that I hope this letter finds your hands, and more importantly finds a response back to me. Being both attendees to that one party, I'm sure you know the one, I merely wished to communicate with you.

Are you dead?


Sincerely

-Sarcel Cincil.

Needless to say, there had been no response. Had the lowblood died in the conflict? There was only one way for Sarcel to find out.

Clearing her throat as she arrived at her destination, the blueblood gave the door a few, heavy knocks before pulling back, looking among the plains. It seemed peaceful out here; as good a place of residence as any. Now all she had to do was wait for the troll to (hopefully) answer.

saedusssk

 

[saedusk]

Letter, what letter? If outright asked, Nahori would deny putting any thoughts of some strange letter from a couple weeks ago out of her think pan. After all, no one had seen it but her, so it didn't exist. She could safely pretend like she hadn't completely snubbed someone who was probably a blueblood, if that ink was any indication.

Mother was busy upstairs when a visitor came knocking. Like clockwork, Nahori set down her broom and went to answer, the non-existent letter never crossing her mind. Of course the troll on the other side of the door would have nothing to do with it. What blueblood would waste their time worrying over the well-being of an orangeblood for more than a single letter, after all? None! She'd convinced herself of that.

Not once while she unlatched the door did she think about how weird the letter had been. How it started off so unbelievably cordial and heavy on the pretentious vocabulary only to end with the most blunt and to-the-point question Nahori had ever had directed at her. Are you dead? She'd spent hours worrying over the hidden meaning behind those straightforward three words.

Someone had been trying to end lives at that very unfortunate party and Nahori had escaped from the mansion before seeing anything through to its conclusion. Could it be that the murderer had actually gotten away and was after her now? If she answered, would she be killed??

If the stranger wanted her dead, then she'd forget it all and play dead.

Opening the door, she muttered out an awkward, "hello," before her brain caught up with what her eyes were seeing. A blueblood. She stiffened, gaze shooting off to the side to avoid eye contact. "T-To what d-do I owe t-t-the honor?"

This had to be a coincidence and nothing more. It had to be, because Nahori certainly wasn't thinking about any non-existent letters and she certainly wasn't thinking about how she never usually had blueblooded visitors for no reason.

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Ah. Well. It was the troll she was looking for anyway. She thought, anyway. Probably.

Yes, Nahori seemed alive and well, if not a little skittish. Sarcel was slowly becoming accustomed to this; not that she really acted like a textbook highblood, but she saw a lot more lowbloods averting their gaze to her now that she wasn't constantly staring at her own shoes. It was just a societal norm, even if she didn't care for it too much.

"Hi." her response was short, but by no means aggressive. Her fingers twitched slightly at the stutter, but it didn't bother her. Well, not inherently; it was simply personal, like looking herself in a mirror. That was fine; it was much more fitting on someone not so blue.

"Nahori Caviap." the way she spoke sounded more like a statement rather than a question, though the way she tilted her head seemed inquisitive enough. "You look well."

saedusk

hallo

 

[saedusk]

Between a rock and a hard place, that's where Nahori was now. In front of her was a highblood, one she could only assume was Sarcel Cincil, author of that letter she'd conveniently put out of her thoughts. For as much as that letter didn't exist, she sure did have an easy time recalling the name. Behind her, on the other hand, was the impending threat of Guineamom. Nahori didn't even want to imagine how awkward things would become if her lusus joined them in the entryway.

"N-Nahori Caviap," she mimicked, her own words sounding stiff and robotic and not much like an answer to the blueblood's not-quite-a-question. "I'm..." Not quite well, perhaps as well as could be expected given the circumstances. "... d-doing just fine, Miss."

Taking a few steps back, she made the way clear for her guest, as much as she wished she could simply close the door in her frightening face. "Won't you c-come in?" Her shoulders shook as she tried to stand up straight, tried to look presentable, a respectable lowblood, but Nahori was positive she was none of those things none of the time. "Can I, um..." Mother always demanded important (highblooded) guest be treated like royalty. Nahori supposed if mother was going to come down, she might as well be making an attempt at pleasantries. "... g-get you anything to d-drink?"

This whole situation felt undeniably awkward.

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Ah, what hospitality! Despite the fidgeting and frowning and plain awkwardness radiating off of Nahori, Sarcel smiled amiably. “Thank you,” she hesitated a moment before stepping into the interior, taking the time to observe her surroundings. Plain, but that was pretty fitting for a lowblood. She wondered for a moment about Nahori’s lusus; what sort of creature it could be, what temperament it possessed…

Ah, but that wasn’t the point of her visit. At the offer of a drink, she had to decline; the last time she visited a lowblood for tea had ended very… well, poorly to be blunt. “It’s alright, but thanks.” She held her hand up, waving it passively.

“And it’s no honor.” At that her voice became much more to the point, looking the orangeblood in the eyes even when she refused to reciprocate the contact. “Just taking care of some personal business. You were there at Awassi’s party. It’s not really my responsibility, but you were unaccounted for at the end…” or well, Sarcel hadn’t been able to personally account for her. Maybe it was a method of atonement, some way to wash off her guilt. She was going to—she needed to make sure no one would be left behind. Not again.

“When you hadn’t responded to my letter, I had feared for the worst. I see now there was probably just a slip up in the system and it got lost; happens too damn much these days…” because really, who would choose to ignore a personal acknowledgement? Sarcel sure wouldn’t.

saedusk

 

[saedusk]

There it was. Escaping the party should've been the end of it, should've been Nahori's opportunity to put it out of her mind and focus on more important things. Survival, for example, or perhaps dealing with Guineamom's increasingly strange behavior. Momentary bitterness burned sourly at the back of her throat. Why was a blueblood pretending to care? Why was she disrupting Nahori's life when all the orangeblood wanted to do was keep her head down and keep to herself? All she wanted to do was live. Nahori didn't ask for much more than that.

"O-Oh, well... m-maybe it was misplaced i-in the mail." Lying to mother was beginning to come easily to Nahori, but lying to a highblood was still decidedly difficult, especially when those eyes were ever boring into her. It showed on her face, but hopefully Sarcel wouldn't read that as anything more but the nervousness she was already radiating. "I... a-am sorry I wasn't able to, um, r-respond to you. I-I do wish y-you weren't f-forced to waste your time c-coming out here. I'm okay, though... I-I made it out quickly and-"

A sudden realization that she was babbling struck Nahori and she stopped, falling silent. She hadn't actually said that much, but Guineamom always preferred a quiet child.

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

"More than likely." Nahori was only echoing her earlier statement, but she found it fit to reiterate again. "And it's... fine? It's no trouble, really."

Actually, Nahori reminded her a lot of who she used to be. Nervous, awkward, stuttering... everything that Sarce should have been, had she still been a lowblood. Oh, but that was sort of cruel to think, wasn't it? Lowbloods had spectacular potential too, but the behavior was undeniably more fitting. At the very least, it wasn't fitting for Sarcel, and she hated that it took her so long to realize it.

Well, she had known for a while, but it still took sweeps to overcome it. At least she was living proof that it was possible to make it out stronger as a result. Nahori possessed that inner strength too, didn't she? Sarcel squinted. It was hard to see... was this why so many trolls had given up on her too?

Ouch.

She reminded herself that the queen had recognized her.

"I'm more pleased to hear you made it out unscathed..." Sarcel trailed off, not necessarily awkward, but maybe a little sad. She thought of Lorata and Elidae and felt her heart twist. They had been okay too, but... "If I'm being honest... the idea of someone being left behind leaves a sour taste in my mouth." she took a seat, crossed her legs, but watched her hand rather than the orangeblood in front of her.

saedusk

 

[saedusk]

Only when Sarcel sat did Nahori see fit to join her, legs held together in front of her, feet flat against the floor, hands set unthreateningly atop her thighs. Her silhouette would've looked like an extension of the chair.

"I... m-made it out very quickly," she continued her thought from before, trying not to wonder or worry about why a highblood sounded genuine in her concern. "It was, um, r-right a-after the gas." She left out the part about the way she felt she might die after inhaling it. It was far too embarrassing and surely not what Sarcel cared to hear.

"Have... h-have you been able to contact everyone, M-Miss?" Had anyone else gotten a visit like this? How many letters had this single blueblood written? Why exactly was Sarcel so concerned for the well-being of strangers when she simply didn't have to be? "T-There were, um, quite a f-few trolls t-that night..."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Sarcel leaned over the side of the chair, elbow on the arm rest propping her head up with her fist. She listened to Nahori in detail before speaking up herself, "Not everyone, no, but most were accounted for towards the end." Her eyes closed in thought as she reminisced slightly. "It was only those who had been separated during the initial confusion that I held any concerns about. Trolls like yourself."

She shifted her weight around slightly.

"You don't need to be so tense." She said suddenly, finding it hard to keep herself from focusing on Nahori's fidgeting any longer. "Please understand that this is simply a routine checkup, Caviap."

saedusk

 

[saedusk]

"Of course!" Nahori squeaked a little too loudly, her cheeks tinting a deeper orange. "Of course... m-my apologies." Even so, it was obvious not an ounce of awkwardness faded after that. She was just as rigid, just as uncomfortable, as she stared at Sarcel and said nothing. It was in that moment Nahori was reminded all over again of her own shortcomings—not that she ever really forgot.

"I'm sorry..." she reiterated because she didn't know what else to say. It frustrated Nahori that she couldn't even hold a normal conversation with someone who was at least pretending to care. This wasn't someone like Eridia. Sarcel may have been a blueblood, but she hadn't used that fact to treat her like garbage. Yet.

"I-I-I don't actually k-know how to be less tense..."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Sarcel simultaneously felt an intense understanding, alongside an overwhelming urge to grab Nahori by the shoulders and shake her. Violently. Okay, maybe not violently, but enough to shock some sense into her. Watching her stutter and apologize and trip all over her words was way too much like looking into a mirror at the troll Sarcel used to be. She didn't like it. She also knew how hard it was to change that.

"It's possible." She said after a moment, "Through hard work, determination and a lot of self reflection. Why are you tense now? Do you perceive me as a threat?" Her eyes glinted in the lighting of the room, a subtle twitch to her brow as her eyes lidded passively, "Surely you're not tense when you're alone. Does the idea of speaking to someone unnerve you? Or is there a deeper root cause? I can tell you're afraid."

She let an arm rest on the side of the couch, her weight shifting again accordingly. "I didn't mean for this to sound like an interrogation. If you want some unsolicited advice, I'd say you could start with the apologies. They're not necessary, considering you haven't done anything wrong."

saedusk

 

[saedusk]

Lips turned down in a frown, hands clenched at her thighs, Nahori didn't speak right away. It was impossible to tell how many of those questions, if any, were rhetorical. Was Sarcel actually expecting an answer to each and every one?

It felt safer to assume yes and be interrupted than assume no and leave a highblood feeling ignored, even after the whole not an interrogation thing.

"Highbloods scare me..." she admitted, feeling a weight in the pit of her stomach for doing so. As soon as the words left her mouth she regretted them and any idea she had to answer every question individually was gone, replaced with a paranoia that Sarcel would be offended or her lusus would come lumbering around the corner to punish her for her insolence.

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

If Sarcel had any thoughts about Nahori's statement, it was kept well hidden, well tucked away. Her expression did not move. It didn't shift to something harsher—whatever offense Nahori expect Sarcel to take never came—but nor did it get any softer. These sort of anxieties weren't solved by softness. Sarce believed that once—or maybe something like that—but it was inevitably shock and pain that made her grow up.

"So you'd be calmer if my blood were warmer?" She inquired. It made sense. She was afraid of highbloods—they still made her nervous—but for Sarcel, highblood meant purplebloods. For Nahori, it meant over half the caste. "Unfortunately, that isn't something I can really help you with, outside of telling you that I have no reason to pull rank over you."

Which was well. True.

"I can't completely sympathize though. I'm not a lowblood." She exhaled a sigh through her nose. Somehow this hive visit had transformed into a therapy lesson. Sarcel wasn't exactly thrilled about it.

saedusk

 

[saedusk]

Swallowing now felt more like trying to force a rock down her throat than Nahori had ever experienced in her entire short life. This was a mistake. This whole situation was one big, big mistake. Or maybe Nahori was the mistake, but she wouldn't say she thought so.

"I-I don't know," she said, "I g-guess s-so..." The real truth was, Nahori felt intimidated by anyone higher than her on the hemospectrum until she got to know them. That included quite a few trolls considering her blood flowed orange. "I-It's not s-something you should... e-even have t-to... to help me with..."

It wasn't Sarcel's problem. It wasn't anyone's problem but her own.

"I'm sor-" The words froze in her throat and Nahori swallowed hard again. "P-Please d-don't worry about i-it..."

Melancholies