Title(s), Name: Lord Caelan Frostfounder, First Prospector, Hero of Production, Fourth in his Name
DOB: Gneiss ~2, 7565 SR / 24 Throne Karrakis years ago / 4992 u
POB: Un Secunda VI, Un Secunda
Title Notes: "First Prospector" - title of the heir apparent of house Frostfounder; "Hero of Production" - title traditionally held by the ruling family, awarded only after taking the life of a rebel attempting any stop work action; "Fourth in his Name" - Fourth in house records to hold that name, expectation to outdo previous holders
Family History: Frostfounders ennobled in 5750 SR for services to the House of Stone during a period of intense planetary discontent. Charged with the maintenance and expansion of industry in cisplanetary space and lunar partners. Year over year the Frostfounders have diligently worked for the expansion and strength of House Stone. Judged of high loyalty to the Hagiographic cause and philosophy; many Stone forces have records of Frostfounders comporting themselves with the highest honor in combat.
Family Philosophy: Favoring a "first citizen" approach usually only seen among republican minor houses, Frostfounder stresses leadership from the front lines. Scions of the house not destined for the title of First Engineer are given positions in direct mine and industrial management - even the First Prospector is expected to participate in day to day management and protection of industrial assets over the course of their education. Very much in line with House Stone on subjects of worker discipline, Un Secunde VI has never seen a successful work disruption since the ennobling of the Frostfounders
Notes: A striking feature of the Frostfounders is their heavy use of augmentations from an extremely young age; this reflects a similar practice among the ignobles of their planet. Un Secunda VI has been left largely unaltered due to its' rare, delicate natural resources (see: Un Secunda VI general entry, subsection "naturally accruing carbon nanostructures"). As such, the local population opted for augmentations to survive the extreme cold found in the local biomes - primarily taking on characteristics of polar and tundra region lifeforms in order to operate day to day without the use of heavy environment suits.
((Got a little too deep into a character building exercise with one of the other players in the group and ended up doing a lil' Disco Eylsium style skill spread for Caelan. On the off chance you haven't played DE go pirate it immediately and play it.
Surprisingly, this helped me clarify some of the stuff Caelan cares about))
Haven't had time to update the journal but, highlights that I must elucidate later -
Cousin Kazimir has been made the KCC's head of security, and he has quite thoughtfully made me his assistant. I'll have to be careful with my new authority but I believe he knows the Frostfounders know security like none other.
//I have a great deal of access now, I have a ton of options but I think Tuera and Delamar are the best to ask re: what to do with this.
Well, midterms went swimmingly. Our whole cadre passed the theoretical portions save for Lord Cannamos having some trouble with the Noble Arts. The practical portion was quite something though.
We purported ourselves well against our instructors, a simple escort under fire mission. Afterwards, once the faculty were down, we were sadly attacked by unknown forces. But the college trained us well and the mechs were remotely controlled.
//I have no idea where we went, but something paracausal happened. It was like a pack of wolves all mangled together, made of shadow and hungry. I'm surprised our weapons even worked, but I was reminded too much of my time on the ice.
I look forward to the rest of the academic year, but the break will be welcome. Lord Cannamos has announced they're returning to Khayradin - it would be advantageous for me to start building contacts there directly. Father has told me about names and positions but actually shaking hands is always invaluable.
//The last thing I want to do is walk into that den of vipers but I can't let Atreyu do this alone. This could sink me or give me a chance to find moves they don't expect me to. Also have to finish transcribing my old journal no matter how much it stresses me out.
Addendum: Damn, plans got cancelled. Think I'll find a spot outside of the city and relax with the team, there has to be a retreat with a reasonable climate somewhere closeby.
Well, midterms went swimmingly. Our whole cadre passed the theoretical portions save for Lord Cannamos having some trouble with the Noble Arts. The practical portion was quite something though.
We purported ourselves well against our instructors, a simple escort under fire mission. Afterwards, once the faculty were down, we were sadly attacked by unknown forces. But the college trained us well and the mechs were remotely controlled.
//I have no idea where we went, but something paracausal happened. It was like a pack of wolves all mangled together, made of shadow and hungry. I'm surprised our weapons even worked, but I was reminded too much of my time on the ice.
I look forward to the rest of the academic year, but the break will be welcome. Lord Cannamos has announced they're returning to Khayradin - it would be advantageous for me to start building contacts there directly. Father has told me about names and positions but actually shaking hands is always invaluable.
//The last thing I want to do is walk into that den of vipers but I can't let Atreyu do this alone. This could sink me or give me a chance to find moves they don't expect me to. Also have to finish transcribing my old journal no matter how much it stresses me out.
LEAF: Praya, I need your help. I'm not asking you to do my fighting for me, but I'm going up against something big and I would REALLY appreciate having you at my back.
TITAN: I'm going to need a little bit more information than that.
LEAF: You know Kohlrabba, Delamar's NHP manservant?
TITAN: Through reputation.
LEAF: He's been kidnapped, and we need to rescue him. This most likely won't be a peaceful operation.
TITAN: Number of hostiles?
LEAF: Unknown, but there's at least one Parautilitarian.
TITAN: Interesting. Does the name Abendroth have any relation to this?
LEAF: Delamar says yes... and also wants to know how you know that name.
TITAN: Never mind that. I'm in, on one condition: I'm going to take from Abendroth something that nobody else can take, and when I do, you're not going to ask any questions.
LEAF: ... Delamar says okay, but he wants to know if Abendroth needs to be alive for you to take this thing. Because he's going to kill him.
TITAN: No. Dead is preferable, in fact.
LEAF: Okay. Okay. Terrifying. Okay. Sending coordinates for a rendezvous.
Soundtrack: Deus Ex Mankind Divided OST - Prekazka District
The moment the airship had touched down, the Lunar Falcons made their excuses and were first off. Delamar had called a helipod five minutes before they landed, and it was scarcely an hour later that they were halfway across the city, outside an industrial unit on the margins of the spaceport district.
They'd argued on the way - Atreyu's decision to call in Praya had gone down like a lead balloon with everyone except Delamar, who was clearly too distraught over Kohlrabba's capture to consider the implications. Tuera and Caelan had said, in no uncertain terms, that they thought it was a horrible idea and that Atreyu should've consulted the rest of the team first - even timid Persephone had expressed a little concern. Atreyu had retorted that they needed all hands on deck, and Praya was one of the few people who hadn't been at the party, and thus wouldn't be drunk, high or committed to several hours of board games with the Marquess. In any case, what was done was done, Atreyu declared, and they'd just have to adapt.
Whatever people's thoughts on the subject, Praya was indeed waiting for them outside the warehouse, wearing precisely the same facial markings as Atreyu - a sight that made their heart swell. Delamar quickly ushered them inside, through a long series of corridors that made several blind 90-degree turns, eventually arriving at what could only be described as a private armory.
It felt like someone had crammed half a BUC storehouse into a room. Every conceivable model of man-portable weapon seemed to be here, from holdout pistols to recoilless anti-tank rifles, along with attachments, tactical webbing, medical equipment, explosives, an array of both intravenous and ingestible poisons and a ludicrous array of close-combat weaponry.
Praya took a look around with narrowed eyes, taking a sharp breath in through her teeth. "Huh. Impressive. Argo's wasn't this large."
She made a beeline for the assault rifles, and found herself almost colliding with Atreyu - they'd both gone straight for the Khayradin Armories MC-7R4 "Jagadis," the model they'd been trained on as children.
She raised her eyebrows, letting Atreyu take the first gun off the rack, before grabbing the second herself. "I thought you were more a revolver person these days, rabbit."
"Oh, six shots is plenty for a duel," Atreyu replied, as they checked their rifle's action. "But we're not duelling."
"Glad to see your childlike whimsy doesn't completely override your tactical sensibilities," Caelan sniped, inspecting the shotgun he'd just picked up.
Atreyu ignored him, busying themself finding some box magazines and a case of 6mm cartridges to load them. Across the room, Delamar was busy fiddling with an ornate long rifle.
"Do not let him touch you," he muttered, loud enough for the room to here. "Better that you die than let him touch you. If he touches you, nothing else will matter to you beyond his approval. You will murder your loved ones without a second thought if he tells you."
"Can it be cured?" Tuera enquired, halfway through squeezing herself into a suit of heavy assault armour.
Delamar loaded a cartridge of what looked like iridescent needles into the rifle. "I've no idea," he growled, "perhaps if Kellen is dead. Perhaps we'll find out."
Having loaded six magazines, Atreyu fumbled about looking for slugs for their revolver. "Delamar, where are the 11-millimeter cartridges?"
The Sandman looked up for just a second. "Pistol cartridge shelf, fourth column, third row."
"Still using the Grand Absolver, rabbit?" Praya sounded surprised. "That's a surprise."
"Why," Atreyu grunted, slotting one of the ridiculous cartridges into a speedloader. "Because I got it from him?"
"I just didn't imagine you would hold on to anything that father gave you," Praya commented, before adding "except the grudges."
Atreyu exhaled sharply. "It was a birthday gift, from before he started treating me like catshit. It's got my name engraved on it. Its grip was moulded to my hand. It's mine, not his."
Praya didn't reply - she just nodded approvingly.
There was a clatter as Persephone dropped a magazine she was trying to load into her pistol. She bent down to pick it up and try again, but after a second or two of fumbling, she dropped it again.
Caelan narrowed his eyes. "Persephone, now that I think about it, how many times have you fought in combat outside of a mech?"
"Uh," Persephone murmured, eyes flicking this way and that.
"Persephone," Caelan growled.
"Well... including duel practice-"
"Fun as it was to watch you take Argo to pieces," Praya cut in, "that doesn't count."
Persephone cleared her throat awkwardly. "Well, then... ah... none."
Delamar sighed heavily. "That's going to be a problem. Alright, Persephone, stay behind Tuera. Let us handle the fighting. Keep yourself out of danger."
Persephone's ears folded back. "Should I at least take the pistol?"
"Yes," Delamar said, setting his rifle aside for a moment, walking over and loading the magazine for her, "but it's probably best if you don't shoot it."
Within another ten minutes, they'd cast aside any clothing with identifying markings. To Atreyu's delight, Praya had coordinated her outfit with theirs, and in their humble opinion, the two of them looked quite sharp together.
Delamar had a van ready to go outside.
Caelan narrowed their eyes. "Throne Plumbing?"
"Do you have any idea," Delamar asked, "just how many Throne Plumbing vans there are in this city at this very moment?"
Caelan's shoulders slumped a bit. "I'm going to imagine it's a lot."
Delamar nodded. "Precisely. Nobody will bat an eye. Now get in."
It took wrangling to fit all of them in the back of the van, especially Tuera, with her power armour and heavy machine gun. Praya and Atreyu ended up standing crammed together at the very back of the cargo compartment.
As the van got underway, Atreyu took a quick glance around, then looked meaningfully at Praya. With a couple of mental commands, they instructed their dataplating to open up a subvocal conversation with her, safe from eavesdropping by any of the van's other inhabitants.
LEAF: It was a surprise to see you wearing the Warmark.
TITAN: Oh yes?
LEAF: Don't get me wrong. A nice one.
Praya smiled. Atreyu had almost forgotten how nice she looked when she smiled.
TITAN: Been too long since I've had a decent excuse to wear it. Fighting alongside family is what it's for.
Atreyu couldn't help but smile back.
LEAF: Glad I could provide an excuse, then.
They paused for a moment.
LEAF: Were you wearing it on the day of the duel?
Praya shook her head.
TITAN: No.
LEAF: I know what he did.
Praya's eyes narrowed immediately, but she said nothing.
LEAF: It took a while for me to put it together, and it needed some help from an outside source. But I know Argo put your name on the duel without your consent.
TITAN: That wretched little fucking man. That pathetic little rodent. What finally made it all click for you?
LEAF: Well, you kept hammering on people who can't fight their own battle. It's easy to tell when things are personal for you, but for a while I thought it was about me.
TITAN: That doesn't answer my question.
LEAF: Promise you won't get mad?
TITAN: I never make such a promise, and you know it. But I'll try my best. For you.
LEAF: Lord Aloysius.
TITAN: Of course. Never can keep his mouth shut, that man.
LEAF: He put himself at considerable risk by telling me the truth, and he did it out of respect for me. Promise me you'll leave him alone.
TITAN: Well, I suppose he did me a favour in a way. I didn't want have to tell you myself. Cowardly of me, perhaps. But...
LEAF: He roped you into the duel, then fucked it up by trying to flex on Persephone. So then you had to apologise for a fight you never asked for.
TITAN: That's about the long and the short of it.
LEAF: So that day at sword practice...
TITAN: Had to do it for myself. Had to fight you on my own terms, of my own volition. Had to reclaim that for him.
LEAF: Could you not have fought him?
Praya grinned smugly.
TITAN: No. I wanted to fight YOU. I wanted to see if you'd learnt anything since we parted ways, or if you were using these new friends of yours as a crutch.
Atreyu frowned, although it was hard to look intimidating when staring up at Praya.
LEAF: I hope I lived up to your fucking expectations, then.
TITAN: You beat me, didn't you?
LEAF: What if I hadn't?
TITAN: Then that would've been a very good learning experience.
LEAF: And was I a "learning experience" for you?
TITAN: Oh, absolutely! I thoroughly enjoyed the experience. Though I'm sorry to say, the thrill of matching swords with you couldn't quite compare to the delight of watching that ignoble egghead of yours whip the shit out of Argo.
Atreyu snorted, but the noise was lost in the rattle of the van's suspension.
LEAF: Passions, how do you tolerate him?
TITAN: Sometimes I wonder if it might be worth spending the rest of my life in Coldhearth just to choke the life out of him.
LEAF: Do you want to be free of the betrothal?
Praya's glare could cut steel.
TITAN: More than fucking anything. But the demands of the House-
LEAF: Fuck the demands of the House. What do YOU want?
Praya's lip curled, and there was something bitter and cold in her eyes - contempt? No, not contempt... jealousy?
TITAN: I'm not like you, Atreyu. I can't just spit in father's face. I actually have responsibilities.
LEAF: Responsibility is inheriting the Granite Throne. It's not spending your life leashed to a conniving, cowardly little piece of shit who makes your decisions for you.
TITAN: I can't just break the betrothal. Father would-
LEAF: Sure. YOU can't break the betrothal.
Atreyu paused for effect, smirking confidently.
LEAF: But what if I could?
They left another pause.
LEAF: Big, noble, responsible Praya, you can't break the betrothal. But who am I? Clumsy, stupid, irreverent Atreyu. Measly, wormy, wretched little Atreyu, the layabout, the knave, the ne'er-do-well, the ruiner. I'm just always fucking things up. Me and my stupid mouth, always bringing disrepute or misery upon the family. Ruin an arranged marriage? Praya, I was basically born for this.
TITAN: This isn't some banquet where you can just spill wine on his best cloak. This is a massive political alliance you'd be sabotaging. He. Will. Be. FURIOUS.
LEAF: I've survived his fury for a decade. That's his problem - he's doesn't understand proportionality. Maybe what he did to me wasn't the worst he could possibly do, but he started off pretty close.
Atreyu locked eyes with their cousin.
LEAF: Look, do you want me to do this?
Praya looked away, sighing.
TITAN: Yes.
LEAF: Then it's settled. I'll do it.
TITAN: Thank you.
LEAF: No problem. After all, what are cousins for?
They rode in silence for a while.
LEAF: Hey, I know I'm not supposed to ask questions, but...
TITAN: Oh, here we go.
LEAF: How do you know about this Abendroth guy?
TITAN: Ever since you showed up, I've been feeling a little... lost. So during the long weekend, I took an express back home to get some advice.
LEAF: From uncle?
TITAN: Oh, no. From a higher power than him.
LEAF: Prayer? Never found the Passions to be particularly open to giving advice.
TITAN: There are other powers on Khayradin you can pray to, Atreyu. Assuming you bring a drink.
Suddenly, a few things started to click - that fancy wine glass Praya had bought. That could only mean...
LEAF: You went to the Hall of Ancestors?!
TITAN: Perhaps I did.
LEAF: I... only uncle's permitted to enter!
TITAN: Oh, so NOW you care about father's rules?
She smiled to herself, looking off to the side.
TITAN: They are the Stonelords of the past. Father is the Stonelord of now. I am the Graven Heir, Stonelord of the future. I had every right to enter that chamber, and so I did.
LEAF: What was inside?
TITAN: That's for a Stonelord alone to know.
LEAF: You smug asshole. Well, did you at least find some of the answers you wanted?
Praya nodded.
TITAN: I did. I'm starting to understand now, Atreyu.
TITAN: All you need is what you want.
She smiled. For some reason, it was the most terrifying thing Atreyu had ever seen.
I'm not proud of what happened tonight - I taught the death lesson to Persephone without even thinking about it, just like my Uncle did. He nearly choked me out, I just barely avoided stabbing her.
This whole stupid society worked as intended, I'm the monster they wanted.
Of course, this was - at least on the face of it - no more dangerous than a helipod or an aerotrans. There were a thousand contingencies for failure - should they slip off the side, there were slow-fields to ensure they fell no more than a meter, and retrieval drones in case of a field failure. There were backup motive systems in case one of the balloons ruptured. The city below had quick-response systems for aircraft in distress - and besides, El Relámpago was a noble's airship, and would have a thousand contingencies above and beyond those that a standard model would have. Persephone had been bewildered to learn there was a toxicologist-in-residence with a fully-stocked lab on the bilge deck; Tuera had had to explain that no noble worth their salt would ever charter a pleasure craft without one.
Still, there was something about seeing the city sprawled out far below them with naught but a wooden railing separating them from it that turned Atreyu's stomach.
They were here to celebrate the Marquess Fontague Montague's birthday. It had come as somewhat of a surprise to Atreyu - they knew the Marquess respected them as a competent kuirasser, but it was gratifying to know the Marquess considered them enough of a friend to extend such an invitation.
Looking around, however, it became clear that perhaps it might have been less of an individual honour and more of a collective one - it seemed that just about everyone from their class was here. Just about everyone; Atreyu noted that Argo and Praya were conspicuously absent.
Atreyu had been seated next to Rawan, and across from Ladies Elsa and Kiriona - whom Atreyu noted, with private satisfaction, were now officially a couple.
Rawan had been absent over the long weekend of Pangloss' Comet, attending to family matters. Atreyu had naively commented that it must've been nice, only to discover that Rawan had different opinions.
"Ugh. No, actually," she grumbled, taking a sip of her beer. "That's the problem with being from the House of Promise, you know. Like sure I've got some great-aunt-third-cousin-six-times-removed or whatever in Throne Karakiz, but what do I have in common with them? I was born out in the Dawnline Shore. My real family's back home. You know, on San Simeon."
"Eh. At least there's some, ah, what-do-yer-call-it," Kiriona mumbled, racking her brains, "differentiation! Differentiation in yer family. My family were my batch, and lemme tell yer, growin' up around twenty kids with yer own face gets bloody tiresome, it does. And we all hit puberty the same month, so that was a nightmare and a half. Forget the Armory or the Ungratefuls - miracle we didn't all gut each other, quite honestly."
Elsa squeezed Kiriona's hand. "I can understand the immense pressure of being expected to live up to a family reputation. Especially one that's also your sponsor. Atreyu, you must have the same problem?"
Atreyu shrugged. "Actually, uncle just sends me tigers."
Rawan tried to suppress a sympathetic chuckle. The other two simply stared and cocked their heads.
"What an odd thing to say," Elsa commented.
"That's... awesome?" Kiriona began, before reading a little bit deeper into Atreyu's expression. "Or... I'm... sorry that happened?"
There was an awkward silence, and Atreyu felt an urgent need to stretch their legs. "I'm, uh. I'm going to go mingle a little. See who's around."
Rawan nodded and flashed a thumbs up.
Stepping out from their booth onto the promenade deck of the ship, Atreyu took a look around for familiar faces and low-stakes conversations. The centre of the deck was dominated by a swimming pool, for which Fontague had expressly requested everyone bring appropriate swimwear. Atreyu noted, however, that Persephone had simply divested herself of all her electronics and flopped into it fully clothed.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the pool, Caelan, Delamar and Tuera were striding towards a towering figure covered head-to-toe in white fur, just as Caelan was. Unlike Caelan, he had a blunt snout and a much rounder face - and also unlike Caelan, he was wearing full House of Stone colours, down to the eyepatch that covered his right eye.
Moving quietly through the crowd, Atreyu took a seat close to the bear and waited for his companions to engage.
"Kazimir," Caelan hissed, through pursed lips. "I hadn't expected to see you here."
The mountain of a man turned, feigning surprise. "Ah, it is little cousin Caelan!" His voice was like gravel falling down a mountain, with a strong accent full of harsh consonants. "Well, you are paying not so much attention to the family nowadays, yes? It's very easy that you miss these things. But, come here!"
He clasped hands with Caelan, and from the expressions on their faces, it was quite clear he was trying to crush the smaller man's hand. Caelan, to his credit, did not give way, and eventually the bear relented, laughing it off.
"Very good. Yes, I am here! Why should I not attend my nephew's birthday party - or did you not hear, little cousin? I am married now, to one of his uncles!"
"You'll forgive me if I don't keep up with your love life, cousin," Caelan remarked, looking away. "I've had more immediate concerns to consider. Being a student at the College does make demands of one's time, as I'm sure you know." He paused for effect. "Or, well, perhaps not know. I'm sure you can guess."
Kazimir's eyes narrowed and he took a sharp breath. "Indeed, but we are glad to see you still find enough time for leisure. And you make friends with such a... unique cast of characters! Like this one! The little House of Sand man."
"The little House of Sand man's name is Lord Delamar," Delamar cut in, quiet venom dripping from his voice. "But I'm sure you've heard of me."
"You have a reputation," Kazimir conceded, grinning. "All little men from the House of Sand have a reputation."
Caelan cut in before the conversation could go further. "Can I expect to see more of you, then?"
"Oh yes!" Kazimir chuckled, patting Caelan on the shoulder. "The house, they are feeling it's best to have more than one Frostfounder in Throne Karakiz, yes? In case, ah, how you say... in case the pressures, you are finding the pressures upon you are too great, yes? Perhaps the family expects too much?"
Ah, there it was. This was a warning from Caelan's family: we can replace you. Watch your step, boy.
"The family's concern is, as ever, appreciated," Caelan replied, gritting his teeth. "But they can rest assured that I'll have no trouble dealing with, as you say, 'the pressures.'"
Kazimir shrugged. "We shall see, cousin. We shall see."
Delamar shot Atreyu a glance that communicated an entire plan: ruin him.
Atreyu stood, clearing their throat. "Why, is that Kazimir Frostfounder? And here was me, thinking that the House of Stone didn't have enough representation at this party."
Kazimir's shoulders hunched a little at the sound of Atreyu's voice, and he turned, eyes narrow, jaw tight. "Oh! If it isn't Lord Atreyu-Cannamos. I'm sorry that I was not seeing you there. You are always finding a way to crop up in the most... unexpected places, no?"
"Yes, I suppose I do," Atreyu mumbled, casting a detached glance off the side of the airship. "Is it not customary to bow in the presence of the Stonelord's family?"
Kazimir stared down at them, cold poison in their eyes.
"You'll forgive me," Atreyu continued. "But you know how I am. I forget my decorum so often. Surely you remember though, Stoneman?"
Kazimir took a deep breath, like distant thunder over a mountain range. "Of course, Lord Cannamos. We are always happy to... educate." He placed his right hand over his heart and bent at the waist - though, notably, not at the knee. As quick as he began, he ended, taking the slightest step forward. "Before the young Lord forgets themself entirely, perhaps they remember that it is customary to return the gesture, yes?"
Atreyu smiled, inclining their head deeply - but never breaking eye contact with the bear. "Of course. Oh, and since you'll be around a while, convey my regards to my uncle for me, would you? He'll understand."
"It is of course my pleasure," Kazimir lied, all but trying to burn a hole in Atreyu's face with his gaze.
Atreyu nodded politely, taking a step back, idly pulling out their slate and glancing over to Delamar as if to say: set up complete, commence punchline.
Delamar returned the look with a smirk, stepping forward. "Caelan, I imagine that your cousin must be eager to hear of your military exploits. I'd doubt he gets to see much action on your cosy little home."
Every strand of the fur on Kazimir's shoulders bristled. "The little man from the House of Sand must be sadly misinformed. We are seeing more than enough action on Un Secunda VI."
"Really?" Delamar retorted, raising an eyebrow. "Why, but it's out in the periphery of the Concern, and far from any Armory holding. What do you fight out there? Snowmelt? Penguins? Ennui?"
"Workplace saboteurs," growled Kazimir, glaring down at Delamar. "Little weasel men who get big ideas above their station, think they are too good for the work we all must do."
"Unionizers," Delamar spat. "You mean you fight unionizers. My my, what a brave man you are, Kazimir. If ever the servants ask for their Solstice bonus a day too early, we'll know just who to call."
Kazimir's nose curled into a vicious sneer. "You think it is a joke, little Sandman? You think I am not understanding the meaning behind your words? Yes, I have fought for my house, to ensure prosperity against the shiftless Neblagodarnaya who are throwing their snowshoes into the processing units! Who are hijacking the trains! Who are riling up the workers! I am fighting them! I am hunting these... sbrod for the good of house and House, and you are... YOU...!"
He looked about in the uncomfortable silence that followed, seeing that every single eye in the immediate vicinity was turned towards him, and that Atreyu was holding their slate up meaningfully. A redness was just visible beneath the fur of his cheeks. He raised a trembling finger.
"And I am not the only one," he snarled, before stalking off below decks.
Atreyu hummed to themselves, opening their contacts tab.
LEAF: Rawan, I have a present for you.
SAXIFRAGE: and here was me thinking youd been too busy pursuing the fair lady kays affections
LEAF: What? No!
LEAF: I was just helping a friend! She needed eight billion tools and couldn't carry them all home on her own!
SAXIFRAGE: lmfao you know im only teasing babe
SAXIFRAGE: (besides shes cute, maybe you should)
LEAF is typing...
LEAF is typing...
LEAF is typing...
LEAF has entered text
SAXIFRAGE: anyway whatve you got for me
LEAF: How do you feel about an asshole from Stone embarrassing himself in public.
SAXIFRAGE: i think you know by now that im pretty much always down to see that
>//...[UPLOAD::BearMarket.omv]
LEAF: Are you down to "accidentally" leak it to the entire omninet?
SAXIFRAGE: what was that lord cannamos
SAXIFRAGE: you need this video handled with utmost secrecy
SAXIFRAGE: oops look at the silly house of promise girl shes so fucking clumsy shes tripped and spilt your very secret video all over the rabblerouser chatrooms
LEAF: <3
SAXIFRAGE: <3
With the public embarrassment of a rival successfully engineered, Atreyu was about to return to their booth when Caelan tapped them on the shoulder.
"Thanks, Atreyu," he mumbled, "for, you know, having my back. I realise we haven't always seen eye to eye on-"
Atreyu held up a hand. "You're a squadmate. What was I going to do - let him push you around? No. We can have arguments on our own time. Anyone else? We're a unit, we defend each other."
Caelan sighed, ears folding back. "I just... I want you to be careful around Kazimir. They sent him here as a warning. If I were unable to take my seat at the head of the house, he's next in line. Clearly, someone wanted to remind me that if I'm found... lacking, house Frostfounder can examine other options."
Atreyu shrugged, smirking. "I have a feeling that after that petulant little outburst, Kazimir isn't going to be popular with the house for a while. And hopefully, that conveys a message to your house that we aren't to be trifled with."
"They'll retaliate," Caelan grumbled. "They'll release my service record. And I won't even be able to complain, because they'll say everything on it is a mark of honour."
Atreyu cocked their head.
Caelan cast his eyes downwards, unable to meet his companion's gaze. "He was right, for what it's worth. Kazimir was right when he said it wasn't just him. He wasn't the only one hunting down unionizers. Making quota was everything. Anything that threatened the quota threatened the house. We had to keep shipping fullerites back to Khayradin, or..."
"... uncle would withdraw the franchise, and give it to another house," Atreyu stated, face expressionless.
Caelan's ears folded back. "Yeah. So anyone talking about organising, work stoppages, strikes, lower hours, anything that cut into productivity, we had to crush. It was considered a rite of passage. I'm not proud of it, but... shit. Everyone would know. Rawan would know."
Atreyu held up a hand. "Well why not tell her now? Let her hear it from you, instead of from someone else."
"I mean... I guess I could," Caelan mumbled, scratching the back of his head. "You think she'll be mad at me?"
Atreyu shrugged. "Maybe? Either way, better her be mad at you for telling the truth than for keeping it from her." They sighed. "Look. We can't stop our houses from fucking with us, but we're not helpless. We can get out in front of them."
Caelan nodded, looking up at Atreyu. "You're right. I'll go tell her."
As Caelan walked away, Atreyu took the liberty of plucking a glass of Ispahsalari white from a passing servant's tray, satisfied with themself. We can play the game too.
honestly i have to kinda disagree with that post thats like “being knightcore doesnt mean pro monarchy just swear ur undying loyalty to ur bff or ur crush or smth”
no. thats not what makes it sexy. either grapple with your beloved master’s role as a symbol of the state or choose to ignore it entirely and remain their loyal hound to whatever end, uncaring of the structures of power which you serve. become naught but a blade, the burden of your choices left to settle in the hand that wields you. it’s not about being besties forever it’s about OWNERSHIP and DUBIOUS MORALITY and FRANKLY QUESTIONABLE POWER DIFFERENTIALS
It's good organizational practice to periodically take inventory, so I think I shall outline the resources I have been so thoughtfully granted and that I have cultivated
//If father and house Stone want to put me on my toes, fine. Time to remind them what I have and Kazimir doesn't - they're clearly reading whatever I have stored on the public servers no matter how encrypted I'm keeping it.
1 - Attendance at the Karrakin Cavalry College so thoughtfully sponsored by House Stone's military support program, a blessing from our superiors and implicit trust in my potential
//Part of me thinks the MSP is a gambit to keep things chaotic in the lesser houses - losing scions and heirs apparent every so often makes it hard to challenge the big names
2 - Increasingly broad exposure to differing thought and backgrounds, I'm coming to understand the people of our domains so much better than if I had just stayed home or cooped myself up with others of noble birth
3 - Friendship with not only lord Cannamos but also lady Tuera is allowing me to build broad alliances early on.
//I hate to leave Persephone and Delamar out in the cold like this but I know who father wants me talking to. I should probably have a nice weekend out with them.
4 - I have learned that composure in proper settings is not only important, but comes quite easily to me.
//That video of Kazimir popping off isn't going to do him any favors.
I have much still to do, but I've come to understand I have to focus my efforts on a few key positions rather than trying to be everyone's friend at once. Which might be the most powerful lesson I've taken away yet.
Well, it was a pleasant surprise to see cousin Kazimir at the party. I will have to pencil him in for a weekend outing and catch up with him.
//FUCKERS.
//The family sent fucking Kazimir. And he was in full House of Stone colors. Fine, father, message received. Barely even hid his intentions, I have no idea what he's doing in the capital but he's in a good place to prove he's got the stronger claim to house leadership than me.
//I don't think he'll do anything obvious - but Stone has always been comfortable with direct confrontation if I prove I'm a poor fit for leadership.
//His branch of the family always favored direct and brutal work - their "hunts" to head off union organizing speak for themselves.
Spoke about my record to my teammates at the party, surprised the subject had never come up before. But my commendations and titles didn't come from nowhere, did they?
//Didn't give any specifics but I told everyone including Rawan about my record. Left out the cheering and partying after my first mech kill. Left out the commendations for lethality. I can't make excuses for any of it but I really don't want it to get out. But if anyone digs into Kazimir they'll find out what I did, and Delamar is doing a lot of digging. I can't stop him.
Well, it was a lovely party but I do need to focus, midterms are only in a couple of weeks and tactical has proven to be the most challenging track.
Note to self: ask the school about machine shop time
//Blowdrier rig is almost ready.
Oh - and a few images to document some of my sartorial expeditions I took for lord Montigue's Birthday. More casual and some swimwear.
The security at this college needs improvement, I was prepared for the occasional tussle amongst the students but a full blown assassination attempt on Lady Tuera? For shame, I hope someone has been properly chastised.
//Passions fucking below they took a poke at Tuera. I'm just glad she's okay, bullet seemed the size of a finger when it punched through her shield. Medical checked us out and I encouraged the team to take a day off, so we went hiking.
That said, I believe I did the house proud in defending myself and associates, the Frostfounders stress knife work and I showed myself to be a keen student.
//I didn't enjoy that. I know I was getting shot at but that was visceral in a way every little bit of practice never got me ready for. Delamar offered to replace my weapon but I couldn't, it's too important to me.
Other than that, my academic work is proceeding well, and I am indexing my old journal entries to fit in with standards here at the college.
LEAF: So I've been doing some research into this Rodericke Steele individual.
LEAF: We have GOT to find Max a new sponsor.
LEAF: No child of Karrakis deserves this.
VORTEX: That bad?
LEAF: This man has all of the cruelty of Harrison Armory and none of the restraint.
>//...[UPLOAD::WhatIsHeWearing.omi]
PYCHOPOMP: ohhhhhh...i dont like that.
WARL0CK: ... I suddenly have the urge to punch this man really hard in the middle of his face.
VORTEX: Is that a smoking jacket over a turtleneck? Did he piss off his sartorial aides?
PSYCHOPOMP: ...I'm a scientist but uh, I dont think this is fashionable? I dont know. my brain is trying to eat itself looking at this
LEAF: I can't help but feel in some way responsible for Max's plight. So I'm going to try and set things right.
LEAF: That Taraxacum that Lord Castor-Eyros gave me - I'm going to give it to him. Not an ideal frame but it's better than having to beg and grovel before... THAT.
VORTEX: A little help goes a long way. It's also just the right thing to do.
And thus, the Lunar Falcons had convened in the Stables - minus Delamar, who was currently listed as "Intentionally Unreachable; Do Not Contact" on every single status feed. He'd apparently wanted to see all of Throne Karakiz' attractions, without being recognised as a noble of the House of Sand, and so was going incognito. Atreyu wondered how ahead on his studies the man must've been to afford an entire weekend doing the tourist circuit, but it was his scholarship to waste, they supposed.
In any case, they only needed a majority of the Lunar Falcons to transfer the frame to Max, but all four of them had turned up in solidarity.
"You have no idea how much this means to me," Max repeated breathlessly, having said it about six or seven times at this point. Finally, the license transfer sequence finished, and he began tapping his slate. "Okay, okay. Let's get this thing open and see what we're working with..."
There was a brief pause as the cockpit ramp lowered. Atreyu looked away for a moment, just in time to catch Tuera's shield turning from blue to red to white around her shoulder. Then they heard the gunshot. Turning back, they saw three hooded figures bursting from the darkness inside the mech. One had a knife, the second a pistol, and the third was aiming down the sights of a suppressed rifle, its barrel still smoking.
Soundtrack: Michael McCann - Neon Arterial - Ending the Family Presence
Tuera hit the floor - it seemed like her shield had absorbed the brunt of the blow, but from the way her shoulder was hanging, there'd still been enough force to dislocate it entirely. Immediately, without hesitation, Atreyu's revolver was in their hand and their shield was on. They threw themselves between the rifleman and Tuera, squeezing off four quick shots, not really aiming so much as trying to keep the sharpshooter's head down.
Caelan was a blur of white fur, bearing down on the assassin with the pistol with his knives drawn. Without the benefit of range, the assailant struggled to fend off the wolf's flurry of quick strikes. Bullets careened off the floor and nearby machinery as he fired blindly, until Caelan stepped under his desperate thrashing and sank a blade straight into the man's wrist. The pistol clattered to the floor, but the man didn't so much as blink - simply pulling out a knife of his own with his one good hand.
Over the other side of the bay, Persephone and Max cowered behind a crate as the knife-wielder advanced on them. Persephone was struggling to get her submachine gun unslung, and Max was desperately trying to fiddle with a fuel cell.
There was a snap of air and a pain like being struck with a baton, right in the chest. Atreyu felt their ribs creak under the strain, and looked down briefly at the angry red of their shield as a bullet fell to the floor in front of them. The rifleman was clearly unconcerned with how many people they had to kill to get to their target, and was already lining up another shot. Atreyu could feel the thrumbing of the air around them fall out of rhythm, becoming disjointed and staccato - their shield wouldn't survive another hard impact.
Atreyu could see the beast rising over the edge of the cliff they'd left it beneath, face bloodied, screeching in anger. In his mind's eye, the Wolf itself rose with hungry jaws.
They steadied one arm on another, and squinted, looking for a gap in their adversary's armour. They'd spent four bullets - two left. They took a deep breath. Time seemed to slow down as they let it out, seeking their target.
There.
The bullet struck the monster square in the hip, right where the ballistic plates had to be jointed for the sake of mobility, and suddenly he was just a man again - just a man, with all the vulnerabilities and weaknesses of a man. The oversized bullet rent flesh, sundered muscle, severed tendons, smashed bone apart. The assassin dropped to one knee like a puppet with half its strings cut, letting out a grunt of agony.
He hefted his rifle again, but suddenly Tuera leapt from behind Atreyu, her cavalry saber drawn in her off-hand, and faster than the wounded man could react, she had brought it down on the barrel, tearing the weapon from his shaking hands.
There was a cry of pain from Atreyu's left as an assassin's knife found Persephone's arm, but without any fanfare, Delamar was just there. He took the would-be-murderer's wrist and with surprisingly little effort snapped his arm back against itself with a sickening crunch. The knife fell to the floor, but its wielder didn't even blink.
Atreyu turned as a body hit the floor - Caelan's knives had made short work of the gunslinger - he still drew breath, but he was out of the fight. Tuera was busy beating the rifleman into unconsciousness. The third and final assassin turned tail and made as if to flee, but suddenly, the voice of ELIGOS, the College's NHP, filled the room.
"I think not. You'll stay right here, worm."
The Taraxacum moved on its own, seizing the masked man in both its manipulators. He struggled a little, clearly attempting to bite down on something, but restrained as he was, he couldn't stop Delamar from ripping his mask off and stuffing it in his mouth.
ELIGOS sighed theatrically. "Remain where you are. I have already summoned security. Oh, some of you are injured? Very well, I suppose I must also dispatch a medical team. Yet one more drop in an ocean of distractions."
Soundtrack: Sound of Syndrome - Wondrous Places
The next few hours were a blur. Everyone had insisted that they were fine and that the medics should tend to the others first, and the medics had insisted that no, they all needed to be treated. There had been a rush of well-wishing visitors - Ladies Elsa and Kiriona, Lord Tomas, Rawan, Marquess Fonatgue - but Atreyu couldn't help but obsess over who hadn't checked in on them.
Delamar had demanded to interview the assassins personally, only to be soundly rebuffed by College security - which meant Persephone had to hack into the mainframe and download the files herself.
What they learnt only raised more questions. The assassins were from the Dusk Wardens, house company of House Helsing - the minor house that had adopted Persephone in order to sponsor her at the College.
"Venthrax," Tuera spat. "My progenitor. He's always been angry that I chose to be a woman, and this isn't the first time he's tried to have me bumped off. But I'm too popular with the Raven Guard, our own house company, for him to do it openly - so using House helsing as cat's paws? He'd get me out of the way, and have a perfect casus belli to seize another house's holdings."
"They do not simply have you poisoned at breakfast? Or knife-fight your much older cousin, perhaps," Delamar enquired. "Fillicide via proxy fratricide is a time-honored tradition in House Leonasius."
"My family doesn't assassinate unwanted children," Caelan remarked, pulling a loose strand of fur. "They just make sure your survival pack is missing one or two vital things when they leave you out on the glacier for your rite of passage. Persephone, how did your family deal with its problematic scions?"
Persephone stared at Caelan like he had two heads. Atreyu said nothing, still lost in thought over who hadn't visited.
//I left all my old journals at home intentionally - but father saw fit to, so very kindly, send me them in a data mass last night. I don't doubt they're loaded with spyware so I managed to load it into college hardware first, not my personal devices. Got a couple entries I actually want to keep, the rest is the same garbage I've been leaving in my "private" college partition. Going to transcribe one optically onto this device, nice and airgapped. Father always said I can't forget this lesson so I won't.
I don't think that's a joke either this is the coldest I've ever felt, they said my augs would be pushed to the edge but I don't think they're keeping up.
Don't stop. They always say stopping is what gets you. Sleep during the day, stay up during the night. I can do this. Father did this, everyone else did this.
Recording my thoughts might help while this survival heater cycles up.
It's right after my 14th birthday, a few days after the solstice. Winter is properly started. Which is hard for me because I'm finally of the age where I have to take some responsibility and I need to survive my nights out here.
So, the solstice celebration - standard. Parties, everyone mingling, the first building of the year. Not the year the way Karrakis figures it but the year here. Ever since we've been nobles we've always done everything to show the people we lead them for good reasons. So, the first building. First new structure erected in the capital every year needs a half liter of Frostfounder blood. Sometimes used to quench steel, sometimes in the mortar. It's symbolic.
It could have been anyone in the family but father insisted - first year I was eligible, so I had to volunteer at the ceremony. Hardly got to enjoy the party I felt woozy and I'm not good at needles, and they said it should be replaced by the time the retrieval team comes for me.
I am. So cold.
I've got two days of rations, the heater, the tent and a survival kit - I'm out here for four days. I can either stay put and ration, "the path of preservation" or I can risk my calorie budget on a hunt, "the path of expansion".
Every bloody thing has to be a lesson I am so cold.
- system note: pause of 3 minutes 6 seconds -
Not everyone s-survives. Great uncle Ambrose died out here, and I think one of my cousins didn't make it last week. Family won't say anything.
- system note: pause of 1 minute 16 seconds -
Fucking thing isn't getting warmer - I think they broke it on purpose. If I shut it down I'll have to let it cool before I try to fix it. But if I leave it I'm only getting a trickle of warmth.
I've got four hours before my core temperature drops far enough to start causing trouble. Probably two and a half if I shut this thing down.
I... I think I can do that. Half an hour to cool, that gives me two hours to pull it apart and find the problem. Barely any time to slap it back together and actually get to a civil temperature. Going to save charge and record later.
- Recording paused for 00:03:40:21 -
Passions fucking below they sabotaged me. A full quarter of the converter coils are just busted. That's what was causing the slowdown and draining the core - I've got it as good as it's going to get but it's still only -25°C in the tent. I'm just barely below indefinite survival tolerances.
Fucking family. Always going on about how we have to suffer with our workers but we don't fucking make them do this.
Can't sit this one out - the calorie budget is too lean.
Fucking. Fuck. Another choice they made for me.
Fishing could work if I could break through the ice pack but I think that's a nonstarter - finding a fissure might work but by now everything is frozen solid. Okay, trapping. Declan taught that back home but I don't have much practice. I'll head north, should be a few smaller herbivores around the coast. They didn't tell me where the fuck they put me but the carrier was heading just about west, If I'm not lucky the shore is more than two days away - but if I follow the polar trio I should keep on a northern heading.
Of course they wouldn't give me a compass. Assholes.
- System shutdown -
- Gneiss 4 7579 -
Still on the ice pack when I had to set the tent up. I'm on three quarters rations - fuck I do not want to die out here.
Declan always says conserving energy is important. Sun just came up so I'm going to get some rest.
- Recording paused for 00:07:02:55 -
Balls balls balls balls it is cold. Storm started some time in the afternoon - I've got to get mobile, going to try cranking the heater down - had it too hot yesterday and you can see where it singed fur.
- System Shutdown -
- Gneiss 4 7579 -
Okay. Fuck. Okay. Got a few traps set up around some burrows, watering holes, and some of the scrub brush the herbivores around here go for. Got enough food to get me moving tomorrow but that's it. Was so nice to see the forest - the trees aren't helping much but I'm out of the worst of the wind. Still had to set up in a clearing - off chance a snow drift fell on the tent that'd be it. Cutting into sleep time but I fucking need that food.
Following the excitement of the weekend, the next week had been uneventful - everyone had to knuckle down on their schoolwork, and there wasn't much time for socializing.
Nevertheless, the school was abuzz with gossip. Atreyu's little stunt at the club had ended up catching fire not just on the local omninet, but across the galaxy. Some individual far out in the Long Rim, an entertainer named Ipswich DeLacey - who apparently boasted an audience of hundreds of millions - had recast the video. Atreyu wagered there wasn't a single person in the College who hadn't at least heard of it.
Still, they couldn't let their attention waver. There was a live-fire exercise coming up, and as a registered squadron, the Lunar Falcons had been selected as the blue team - plus one other member of the student body, whom they'd have to recruit. Nobody was obligated to join them, but given their recent victory over Praya and Argo, Atreyu figured it wouldn't be too difficult to convince someone to sign on as a sixth.
To this end, they'd all been scurrying about the school in any free moment they had, collecting information on the other students and their mechs. There was a truly eclectic combination of frames and proficiencies, but the Falcons had generally been keen on one man in particular: Captain Hedros Nadeer.
He was a literal poster boy for the BUC - he'd served a couple of tours of duty already and walked home with a field promotion and a chest full of medals. There were many paths to get into the Karrakin Cavalry College, but active military service was actually one of the most difficult. There were millions of kuirassers under the BUC's command; to prove you were good enough for the KCC, especially the Throne Karakiz campus, you had to be better than every single one of them.
Tuera had spent some time speaking with him, and she'd quickly gotten the impression that he was a consummate professional, and one hell of a soldier. Tuera confidently estimated his combat experience probably exceeded even hers. In the latest team meeting, Atreyu had reasoned that having the two most experienced veterans on side would give them a serious advantage - and that by the same measure, they certainly wouldn't want to be fighting against him. Hedros seemed to respect Tuera in turn, so the team had assigned her the duty of convincing him to join them.
During the meeting, Atreyu had brought up another issue: whether or not they had a team had a leader, or needed one. Persephone had sort of defaulted to bringing intelligence briefings to them, saying she assumed that Atreyu was the team leader simply because they'd been acting that way. The team had generally seemed to reach a consensus that they didn't need a leader, which Atreyu was fine with, but they noticed that Caelan had been particularly against the idea.
As a matter of fact, Caelan had been against anything Atreyu had suggested for the past week, save for the subject of Hedros Nadeer - and Atreyu felt that was largely because Caelan considered it just as much his idea as anyone else's. They'd barely exchanged two words with each other for the span of five days; unusual, given that talking seemed to be one of Caelan's favourite things.
So Caelan was mad at Atreyu about something, and wasn't going to explain what it was. Atreyu, having spent the last decade in a place where this was a basic truth of their life, had decided to give Caelan space. Eventually, they'd either drop their grievance or come out with it.
This would've been easier had Stablemaster Imani not given them a group project to work on together. They'd been given a broken muon catalyser to repair, and since Caelan hadn't been talking to them, it had sat untouched on the workshop bench where Imani had left it for a week now, and a deadline was fast looming. Eventually, Atreyu had to put their foot down and pick up their slate.
LEAF: Caelan, we've got two days before that muon catalyser has to be turned in and we haven't even started it. I'm starting in ten minutes.
VORTEX: Very well.
By the time Caelan arrived, Atreyu had already taken the outer plating off and was comparing the innards to the technical specs on their slate. It looked like a simple superconductor quench, but if there was a deeper problem, replacing a deflector would just cause it to happen again, so the entire assembly needed to be checked - possibly disassembled wholesale.
They worked in uncomfortable silence for about ten minutes, speaking only to request tools or to suggest the next step, until Caelan finally spoke up.
"Hey, Lord Atreyu, I need to discuss something with you," he stated, plainly.
Atreyu didn't look up from their work. "Well, I'm here, as I've been the whole week."
Caelan took a sharp breath in, narrowing their eyes. "I respect that you have strong opinions on the subject of the Sanjak Commune, and upon the treatment you received at the hands of your uncle."
Atreyu inclined their head the slightest bit, casting their eyes upwards to regard their squadmate. "That would be accurate."
"Well, there's a video of your... performance circulating that just about everyone and their mother has seen. And there I am, visible in the front row." He paused for a moment. "I just hope that in future you'll be a little more discrete about your protests when there are others around whose reputations might be impacted."
Atreyu stared at Caelan for a moment, slackjawed and openmouthed, until they dropped their screwdriver, jarring them out of their stupor. "I'm sorry, Lord Frostfounder, I'm not sure I understand. Could you restate that, please?"
Caelan sighed, rolling their shoulders. "Look, ever since Declan ran off and took the family mech with them, I've had to be the perfect little scion for mother and father. I was finally beginning to taste just a little bit of freedom here, but when this gets back to them, which it inevitably will..."
"Wait, sorry, sorry," Atreyu interrupted, scratching at a sudden itch in their shoulder. "Let me get this straight. You're angry at me because your parents might get upset at you for... what, being in proximity to an opinion?"
"Look," Caelan replied, holding up their hands disarmingly. "I'm not saying that Sanjak wasn't hideously mismanaged-"
"Good," Atreyu snapped. "At least we can agree on that!"
Caelan grit their teeth and let out a growl, clearly irritated at being cut off again. "- but you of all people should know how easy it is to lose the favour of the House of Stone!"
"Right, right!" Atreyu let out a sharp, humorless chuckle, spinning on their heel and throwing up their hands before whipping back around to face Caelan. "So it's my fault that your parents would punish you for simply being close to me?"
Caelan let out a cry of frustration and threw down their spanner. "Maybe if you thought for more than a microsecond before opening your mouth, you could actually get someone to listen to you!"
Atreyu turned their nose up. "In case you didn't notice, people did listen to me. Because I actually had something to say. You should try it sometime."
"Oh that's rich," Caelan sneered, baring his fangs. "You get one crowd jumping up and down with a fight song, and you think that's praxis? Politics is more than just performative anger on stage!"
"At least I'm not too scared of my family to have principles," Atreyu retorted, pointing an accusing finger over the catalyser. "Why aren't taking this up with them? Are you actually angry at me, or are you angry at them and just taking it out on me because they're beyond your reach?"
"Well maybe," Caelan practically screamed, "I just learned a long time ago that there are things that it's just a waste of time to fight!"
A heavy silence fell across the room, in which it was clear to both parties that Caelan really, really regretted having said that out loud.
Soundtrack: Andrew Prahlow - The River
Atreyu took a deep breath. "You can think I'm naive for wanting justice," they stated, stonefaced. "But you know what's infinitely more naive? Thinking you can just drift through life, politely offending nobody. It's not just cowardly - although, let me be clear here, it's fucking cowardly - it's also impossible. Just because you won't choose a side doesn't mean you aren't on a side."
Cealan turned away and said nothing, so Atreyu continued. "You want my advice? Pick a side before one gets picked for you. Live with the consequences. Decide what you can't live without - the approval of your family, or your own conscience. Maybe you won't like what happens either way - but at least you'll be living in a hell you chose."
There was another heavy silence that lasted far too long.
Atreyu pulled their welding goggles off, picked the screwdriver up off the floor and set it carefully on the workbench. "The superconductor's coolant line is fused. Finish this off yourself."
Lord Atreyu has not been very receptive to my arguments regarding Ludra's World, I may have to think more deeply and study some of the House's official positions and thoughts on the matter.
//Atreyu is an ass.
//Okay, I'm grown enough to know that all hurt because they were right, at least a little. I don't think my request to be told next time was unreasonable but they exploded at me. I know I have to pick a side here, especially if Sanjak is to see more legitimacy - but I don't see how that can get done if we make enemies at every single opportunity.
//I didn't deserve to be yelled at. Or maybe I did. Maybe I am just the little house of stone scion father has been working so hard to make.
In other news, I think I did Fraj, the old knife master back home, proud. Lady Tuera fights like a beast but I bested her in fair combat.
//I went berserk on her because I was mad at Atreyu. Maybe they are right, maybe I'm just taking out my anger on whatever I can reach rather than what I'm actually mad about.
//But what the fuck am I supposed to do! The House of Stone is huge, the Baronies is massive. You can't fight all that at once you have to be careful to keep a seat at the table.
//Then again what if I'm just justifying to myself - what if that's just what they want me to think?
//I don't want to go home, but I think I feel homesick. Toxic, stupid emotion.
//We really need to make up before we head into combat next. I really wish Declan was still around, he always had good advice.
