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> HADEAN

Sip made you all pretty while you chatted about beating Emerel's ass in. It was... Fun in a way you've never gotten to experience before, really. And hey, you were pretty enough to pull of anything.

And Sipara seemed sure that this goo wouldn't melt off your mug. She would know better than anyone else... You hope. Back in your normal clothes it seemed right to head to the fighting rings and see about scouting out your opponent. You'd had your fun at the faire, gotten to meet a bunch of trolls and have enough quality bonding time to last you a few sweeps...

That meant it was time for business. You absently tapped your staff against your shoulder as you walked, eyes sweeping over the trolls assembled. Honestly, you had no idea who you were looking for! Just that he was jade.

"Siiip. Which one of these dirtbags is Emerel? Fucker was hella rude, not even sending me a picture. He's not actually hideous or something, is he?" You had thought Pheres had taste. But... With what he was wearing... Maybe not.

> EMEREL

You walk back into the arena, sweat dripping down your forehead that you can't be bothered to wipe off. Besides, it's kind of attractive. You had some rage to let out and you feel a bit better now. There's a bit of blood streaked across your garb and you're not sure if it's yours or that blueblood you took a quick drink from while he was knocked unconscious with a very rude halberd pole. Ironically, you're pretty sure that's the same blue you drank from during the faire where you meant Pheres. Small world. You decide you'll hang out on the benches with your waterbottle for now, thoroughly overheated and in need of something for your throat. Hadean will make himself known when he gets here, you're sure.

> SIPARA

Hadean's pretty as a goddamn picture, and you _absolutely_ crammed your phone full of 'em. Between Pheres's horn-shining and your work, there's something deeply satisfying in how positively _glam_ he looks. And he'll look even better when he's kicking someone's ass in it. Empress, you miss being in the ring. "Ha~aaaaads," you drawl back, squinting at the crowd. "He's the mossball over --" You bounce up on your toes, peering at each troll in turn, before you jerk your chin towards Emerel. You've only seen him in person once or twice, but with as many pictures as Pheres's put up, he's kind of hard to miss. "There! And - eye-dee-kay, dude, he's not _my_ thing. You like 'em long and gangly and nubby-horned?" "Because if you do.. looks like you might have competition. Haha, holy shit, did he fuck around with a teal before he's _fighting?_"

> HADEAN

Huh. First thought it he looks like a sweaty gross nerd. Second thought is woww, was he really fighting before your bout? "Looks like it. Hella rude, doesn't he know he was supposed to save himself for me? Might start bawling as soon as I try talking to him, I can already feel myself getting choked up." Well if he wanted to tire himself out before his fight, fine. You were used to being looked down upon for your blood color, obviously he didn't think you were worth his best. His loss, it'd just make it an easier win for you. You stroll your way over to the benches, whistling loud- like you would for a woofbeast. "Oh Emerel~ Are you always this sweaty and dirty, or was this your attempt at cleaning up for me?"

> EMEREL

You're quietly minding your own business, drinking your waterbottle on your bench, when you're whistled at. It's not the first time someone's whistled at you, so you can't say you're bothered. You love it when strangers pay attention that kind of attention to you, usually. When he calls your name, however, you pause with your bottle still at your lips. You don't look towards the source of the sound and your only response is to tap your fingers on the bottle. "You could say-" You look over to him, snorting when you notice how prettied up he is. Even you know better. "-That I simply look the part of a man who just went to war." You HAVE been doing reenactments all day, after all. You stand up, setting the bottle down to look Hadean over. He's not much taller than you, horns notwithstanding, and the only thing about him that's really concering you is that dumb floating horn. You're sure you should be wary of that one.

> HADEAN

"A man who went to war. Sure, buttercup." You make sure your voice is as dry as possible. War? Is that what he thinks fighting trolls one on one for a while is? Man, he's a dramatic one... But you guess it comes with the territory of being a fucking. Historical nerd. "Well, you need a little more time to freshen up, or are we fighting now? Because I came all this way to this stupid faire to beat you up. Might as well get it over with." You lean against your staff, giving him you best cocky smirk. You didn't have to get serious about it until you were actually going at it, after all. Let him think you the cocky lowblood who was getting in over their head. You could play stereotypes to your advantage any night.

> MAIDEL

You’re sitting in the stands with Sipara, watching Hadean and Emerel anxiously, but then Prisma really does come over! You beam at the yellowblood. “Hi! Are you excited for the fight? I’m a little worried, but…” You trail off and look at the two trolls. “…they both seem pretty capable.”

> EMEREL

"I'm ready when you are. Question is, Hadean, just how good are you at putting your money where your mouth is?" You look to his face, a wide smirk crossing yours as you summon your halberd to your hand, copying his lean. For all your talk, you're making all sorts of immediate observations about him: Face tattoos. High pain tolerance. Floating horn. Some type of psionic bullshit. You probably shouldn't get too close. Staff. Another indicator that he keeps a distance. Cocky. It's a trick you know quite well. Tall. Inherently on the tough side. Long hair. Doesn't spend too much time in close range fights if he's not worried about getting his braid yanked on. You think you might try fighting close to him and seeing what happens. "But, you know, if you want to apply a little more makeup before we get into it, I'll wait. Be my guest."

> PRISMA

"I am marginally excited. I am more excited to see Hadean destroy this mysterious jade blood," You remark simply, cocking your head lightly at Maidel. "You found time to get away from the booth, finally?"

> VATRRA

You've locked up your shop in favor of wandering around until you find where you need to go. And it's not hard to spot the familiar face in the crowd once you remember what to look for. The greenblood and goldblood next to Nzinga are unfamiliar, but based on the chrome in the chat these are probably the other people you were just talking to. You walk over and take a seat at the end of them, nodding in greeting.

> HADEAN

"Oh my god, clearly you've been watching way too many shitty movies with Gliese is you're going to spew that line and try to look cool doing it." You roll your eyes at him, but you're taking note of him while you trade jabs. But let him try to compartmentalize you! As much as he likes to think how good he is at fighting, you've just had a lot more time alive to fight. And you're used to fighting trolls that are physically stronger than you. "Now don't go tossing Sip's skills or she might give you a good kick when you're down. Are we going to stand around all night, or are we going to fight?"

> LOKKIC & CO Somehow, all of you have managed to sit on the bleachers without causing a scene. Of course, it helps that you have yourself, your lusus, Nikola, AND Desmon in that order between Natali and Daiyel. It seems to be working as far as keeping them seperated goes. You're so glad. Your arm still hurts and you hope it's not infected. Where even is the med tent? You never were able to find it and you gave up.

> EMEREL

"You say that, but I think you're just pissed that you're missing out on the movie night food. Too bad, it's good stuff too. Oh well. Sucks to be you." You shrug at him, twirling your halberd once and hoisting it on your shoulder as you approach the ring. You think you have a strategy worked out for this guy, at least for the first few minutes. You'll have to see what other surprises he has up his sleeve. "You're the only one still standing, Hadean." You look over your shoulder, winking at him. "Be sure to get a good look at my ass while you can because this is the last chance you'll get to see it."

> MAIDEL

“Well, Pheres will be here too!” You say. “He’s hardly going to miss his matesprit…so I think we’re just closing for a bit.” You say, shrugging, then realizing Prisma doesn’t know who Emerel is. “Oh, Emerel’s not mysterious! He’s very nice, really, and he’s a military history expert.” You wave to the redblood who you assume is VA, and you feel bad that you don’t remember her name. “Hi! You’re VA, right? Good to see you!”

> CANELA Fight, fight, fight! You're so glad you found the fighting rings. You love watching people beat each other up! Especially when there's blood involved. And that is exactly why you're polyp-levels rooted to your bench, happily tapping your feet as you rest your chin in your hand. Your other one is reaching into your box of tasty fried crabs. You were so glad you found a seadweller food booth at the faire! She was such a nice girl, too. And she makes tasty crabs. You can't wait for the killing to start.

> PRISMA

A military history expert... You raise an eyebrow at this, pursing your lips somewhat tightly. This is an increasingly odd collection of people. Even more so with the newcomer, and you look at the redblood appraisingly. They must all really believe in comraderie. "But then why are they fighting? For the sake of it?" You ask Maidel, turning your gaze back to them.

> LALEDY

Even front row seats don't manage to make this a fight worth bothering to try and actually view. You're kind of having fun with the rest of it, though - Sipara's done up your face in a way that actually makes you want to preen, and you can already hear Hads and the other guy talking shit to each other. It's like a bad drama, and you're snickering into your left-over pizza plate as you wait for the real theatrics to start. You're probably not going to see much of it, but you're fully prepared to make fun of the crowd.

> VATRRA

You give the greenblood a small, slightly awkward wave, "Aye. You're AC, right?" You catch the tail end of the yellowblood's question and hope that it gets answered. You're not so sure why there's a fight either, and it seems a little rude at this point to ask if it's a deathmatch or what.

>SIPARA "Because it's _fucking cool_," you declare, looking up briefly from your phone to grin at Prisma, at the same point that Pheres huffs, from down against the fence: "- because they're a pair of _morons_, that's why."

> LALEDY

You were right, the crowd is totally the best part. You lean over so you can raise an eyebrow at Pheres. "Ain't one of them your, like, matesprit?" you ask.

> MAIDEL

“Um.” You say. “I think they think it’s fun. Hadean really likes fighting in general, and Emerel does re-enactments.” It’s not your thing at all. “Oh! And I think some trolls bet on it, too.” You remember, then laugh a little as you look at Sipara. “Maybe Sipara will make some money!” “Yes!” You say, smiling at the redblood. “But my name’s Maidel - what’s yours?” You have to restrain giggles at Sipara’s statement - it’d be rude to laugh! Unfortunately a few escape past your hand on your mouth, your floppy ears flicking.

> PRISMA

You can't help but grin at Pheres's reply, looking away to keep it politely hidden. It is strange they would let their matesprit get caught up in all this -- you're confused still by the connections everyone has. It seemed like too much to take in, and you sigh briefly. "Hadean likes competing. Emerel's interest seems more skewed, based on that," and then you quiet as Maidel reels to the other troll.

> HADEAN

Ugh. Is he showing off to intimidate you, or to piss you off? Doesn't he know the brat section of this fight belongs to you? Well, he'll probably lose it when it gets to the actual fighting. No one can play dirty quite like you. "What, is getting to look at your ass a scare tactic? I mean, it is a pretty sorry sight." You stroll over to catch up to him, giving him your least impressed look.

> VATRRA

Sipara's answer tells you that it's probably NOT a deathmatch, and the other rust's answer cements the idea, which is sort of a relief. Jade is kind of up there, but it would still be a shame to see them or a rustblood murdered in the pit. You lean forward, trying to not make the greenblood- Maidel switch between talking to you and the goldblood. You look between the two of them. "I'm Vatrra". "So, they're just gonna duke it out for the fun of it?"

> EMEREL

"Well, if you want a better look to make a decision on that, all you have to do is ask~" You put your finger to your lip, giving him a one-finger blown kiss before stepping past the circle into the ring. You know he gets weirded out from shameless flirting. And that's something you're very, very good at. "Now are you going to fight me or weep mascara on my face?"

> PHERES

Being mean to Laledy would be dreadful, given how much Sipara chatters about him: she clearly _likes_ him, and that's rare enough. And you're fond of him, too. And it wouldn't do anything to stop your sulking. "Mm," you say, not quite an agreement, and watch Emerel spin in the ring. "He's the jade. Who're you betting on, Laledy?"

> HADEAN

undefinedUgh. You keep you unimpressed look up, tapping your staff on the ground as you look around. "Oh, we're fighting. I just wanted to make sure we didn't have to do anything like cross weapons or bow or any of the other fancy shit that only historical losers would do!" Hah. You're throwing jabs and making constructs at the same time. Under your clothes where no one can see it, hardening your energy to take blows for you. Your psi are sneaky- there's some sparking of your horn, but not much to show for it. For all he knows the flames dim and flare naturally.

> MAIDEL

“I think Emerel likes showing off.” You say fondly. “He’s good at it! And aha, yes, Vatrra. They both seem really down for it, they’ve been talking about it for nights.” You smile at Pheres, and oh, there’s another jade! What unusual hair. Laledy? Huh. You don’t want to interrupt

them, but you’ll have to say hi at some point. Any friend of Pheres’s is always worth talking to.

> LALEDY

You blink. Well, that's not exactly the answer you expected. Pheres's words don't say much, but his tone speaks volumes. Did you say something? "Nah," you tell him, "Ain't bettin' nothin'! And it's totes cos I'm a respectable and carin' friend and ish and not, like, cos I ain't got nothin' but pocket lint and pizza to bet. You doin' aight, pal?" You pause, debating, and eventually resign yourself. "... Got pizza if you want some," you say proferring your plate. You've still got two perfectly respectable slices on it. You can probably spare one, at least.

> EMEREL

You chuckle, taking another look up and down him. He smells like he hasn't showered in a while. Or at least like he doesn't do it nearly as often as he should. Does he spend a lot of time sweating? Because old dirt and sweat is what it smells like to you. You vaguely recall that he travels. Talk about traveling on foot a lot. But that means he's probably got some good muscle built up, at least in the legs. So avoiding them is a good idea for now. Your most likely target is going to be his front: The face, neck, and chest. But you promised Pheres no lethal blows, so you think a good crack over the head and a kick out of the ring might work out here. "I only bow to people who aren't named Hadean, I'm afraid. So unless you change your name, that's out of the picture." You raise your weapon, tapping the handle on the ground twice. "We do do this, though." AKA, only you do it. But he doesn't have to know that. "Let's go."

> HADEAN

"Oh wow. Did you stay up all day thinking of quips for me? Managed to rub those two functioning circuits in your thinkpan long enough for that one, good job." Huh. You just tap your staff twice before you shift it in to both hands. Your energy is a low hum against your skin, familiar- ready to spread when you're ready to reveal your hand. "Hope you can use that pig-sticker." You don't like pressing an attack, not at first. You set your stance a little bit, waiting to see what he'll do- if he thinks he's naturally got the advantage and come charging in.

> EMEREL

This is going to be interesting. Since you don't know yet what Hadean can do and all your observations have indicated that you shouldn't take him lightly by any measure, you're playing the safe route at first. You ignore your buddies at the side yelling out their bets, deciding you'll try and fake him into making the first move. "You know, they normally wear something a little different in the ring." You shrug, tapping your fingers on your halberd which is still balanced on the sand. You note the tightness in Hadean's muscles and try to figure out where he's the least defended. "We normally wear a lot more padding. Even if we didn't, where's the fun in your jeans?" Before you've even finished speaking, you've made use of how long your weapon is, the tip of the axe aimed right at his face.

> PHERES

You would really rather dig holes into the fence post and seethe. But Laledy's trying to be kind, so you roll your eyes and slog up to his seat. Your smile's crooked, but at least you manage it. "I'm fine! Disappointed, but. Ah. We'll see how it goes. Thank you for asking, though. Sipara, scoot over," you demand, and as soon as she shifts, you cram yourself onto her lap. She's got her phone. It'll be _fine._ And you do steal a piece of pepperoni off of his pizza. Well, if he's _offering..._

> HADEAN

Ah, the old keep them distracted with talking while you swing at them. Good to know he's not above using tricks! Means you can't rely on him playing by the rules, which is fine by you. You feint back and let your staff come up, trying to sweep his halberd- a test to see how much he'll fumble, knowledge of how long you might have to strike in the future. You don't press an attack now, you're still using a staff after all! It's a defensive weapon and you're going to take your time when you can get it. Build up some energy weapons under your shirt to play with. "Jeans are comfy. The fun is in beating you. Duh."

> MAIDEL

Pheres doesn’t look happy, but you can’t help smiling as he scoots onto Sipara’s lap and takes a piece of pepperoni off of Laledy’s pizza. You look down at Emerel and Hadean, wondering when they’ll actually start fighting. You’re nervous - naturally - but also excited and a bit curious - Ooooh, there goes Emerel. You suck in a sharp breath, until Hadean swings his staff up to meet him. Your eyes are still wide, though.

> LALEDY

You can't quite read Pheres's face even when he gets closer, aside from a general smile. His tone is still stiff, though, until he shoves Sipara over and grabs a slice. Well, if the food's gonna help get the stick out of his ass. He's probably worried his boyfriend's going to get shanked, you figure, but it's not like these things are to the death. Besides, Emerel's green - and hasn't been living on fumes and duct tape for the past quarter-sweep like you. He's going to be fine. You nab the last slice of pizza for yourself (anchovies: not actually as bad as everyone has been making them out to be, but hunger is the best topping) so Pheres can't grab it if he decides he wants another, and lean back to munch on it as the fight starts. Well. "Fight." It's still mostly posturing, which is more fun if anybody asks you!

> EMEREL

You shift your grip on your halberd and turn it, trying to use it for something resembling its proper purpose as you attempt to catch his staff with it. If you can disarm him, the better. There's a loud cheer from somewhere to your left as the weapons clash together and you admit you love the sound, even if this is a bad time to comment on that. "Comfy and also boring. No wonder someone had to fix you up for this. It's not like you can take care of yourself~"

> HADEAN

Well, looks like he can use his halberd some. He probably thinks he's clever catching you, but you put your strength in to it as you clash, trying to lock your weapons together as a plan forms. You let him talk, it gives you enough time to hopefully hold your ground and let your energy gather, teeth bared as your shirt rips. RIP one of your three shirts. But you've got another arm now! Does an energy tentacle count as an arm? You think it does when it's armed with a knife. It's just like using any other limb for you, a little will springing it around you to lash at his middle while you hopefully keep his weapon engaged with your own. Thank god for buying the staff with a lead core in it, it's probably the only thing keeping your staff in one piece.

> EMEREL

Well, your plan to disarm him isn't working. If anything, he's trying his best to make sure you can't move either. What's he planning? Your immediate instinct is to disengage and step back and when you hear the sound of ripping cloth, you feel like that was the right choice. Your weapon, however, is locked hard in his and you're going to have to make a gambit to tip things in your favor here. You hold your breath and hold still until whatever the hell he just made actually punches you staight in the stomach. You cough, holding tighter to the chapped leather on your handle as you use those locked weapons to your advantage. Hopefully he won't be expecting you to counter so quickly after being basically sucker punched. Which means he hopefully won't be expecting you to immediately swing yourself around via your trapped weapons and sweep your legs under his to knock him down.

> HADEAN

Oh fuck, did you just straight up shank the fuck out of him. Oh yeah, that's the sort of flesh ressiting and then submitting to a razor edge that signals that your knife went riight in. He was supposed to dodge! What kind of troll stays locked in with a guy and just takes a gut shot!? The same kind of idiot who just sweeps a guy when he's still got a knife in him you fucking guess. You instinctively use the tentacle coming out of your back to try and catch yourself somewhat, to not leave yourself completely defenseless. The staff is gone, but you've still got psionics, and- oh yeah, your tentacle was still knife-ing him. You really hope your trying to catch yourself didn't slice him open even more. You focus on keeping your head and arms protected if he comes in for an attack while you're still trying to regain your footing, purposefully leaving your armor-protected legs and chest there for him to try and stab at. Unlike him, you don't just take a gut shot like it's no big deal.

> EMEREL

You cough again, louder as blood pours over your lips and your chest burns and throbs. That fucking hurts. That hurts like hell, why did you do that? You hear what sounds like a distressed goat screaming somewhere and you think that might be Pheres. This is a weird time to want to laugh and you're going to stop chuckling now. You think you'll be just fine, though. You've been dealt a literally fatal blow and this isn't nearly as bad as you remember. Holy shit, you were not expecting those powers of his. At all. What are you supposed to do about them? You'll figure out something, damn it. You refuse to lose without a hell of a fight. At least it looks cool for the crowd, as they're getting louder. You stumble back, finally getting that damn tentacle out of your chest and that hurts even worse now that it's out. Okay, this is hurting as much as you remember now. "Fucking hell-" You mutter. "That's impressive." Your voice cracks and you promptly step on that stupid shitty braid of his, aiming the butt of your halberd at whatever gap in his guard you can reach, fully intent on butting his his eyes out if you can. He's lucky you're using the blunt end, honestly. Of course, this would be easier if you weren't busy watching the tentacles for more shenanigans.

> HADEAN

Oh man you fucked up. How bad did you fuck him up. He's bleeding from the mouth, so... You're gonna err on pretty fucking bad. But hey! He's still talking. Is that good? You're counting that as good. Otherwise you're going to feel really bad at that screaming from Pheres. Okay, he's stepping on your braid. Less pity now. Especially when he's aiming for your face, fuck that. You raise your arms to block it and yeah, that hurts like a son of a bitch. You're used to pain, you can do this. Just gotta ride that adrenaline high and hope that nothing is fractured. ...Something is probably fractured. You whiz the tentacle at him again, just trying to force him to give you enough distance to get up. You're slashing at his legs, because step number one is trying to convince the guy who just took a gut shot that he needs to fucking move holy hell.

> EMEREL

This time, you actually move. A second stab from that thing might legitimately kill you and you quite like being alive, unlike your sadsack of a brother. You spit a bit of blood at his face as you move your legs away from the tentacle before they end up shredded, quite content to see your blood dripping all the hell over him. Hot. The bitch can have something to remember you by for a while if he insists on not showering often anyway. Wait a second, how much juice does he have? You date two psionics, you know they get fried after a while. You grin rather darkly at that, realizing you know exactly what your plan is. "Hey, Hadean! Is that the best you've got?" You call out through your blood-choked breaths. "I'm still standing and I'm still winning that sweet prize!" It's a taunt, plain and simple. You put your foot in position, waiting for the second that he takes his arms down to kick sand from the arena at his face. "Why don't you get back up already and make my night a little more fun?"

> HADEAN

Good news: He moved. Bad news: He fucking blood bukkake'd your face. Good god, he better not be diseased. If you catch something from his shitty jade blood you'll be pissed. You've got some distance, but he's still there, waiting. And taunting you. "I just had part of me inside you and then you blood bukkake all over my face and don't call that fun? God Emerel, at least buy a guy dinner first." You don't rise to his bait, not when you're already on the ground like this and he's looming so close. But your tentacle has him edgy and you can take the moment to draw some energy up your poor injured arms to shield them from the next hits, forming a shield as well to hold in front of you as you stand.

> EMEREL

"Yeah, give me something I haven't tried before and we'll see about fun. Bitch, I'll make you dinner." You shoot back, weapon at the ready. You need to keep this plan going. But that means getting close again and not taking stupid shots that involve you getting stabbed. Your plan worked, but now you just look dumb. Oh well. You'll recover. You like yourself enough for everyone else anyway. As soon as he stands up, you're running forward fast to kick the sand up at him. It's not much, but it's some degree of a distraction. And sand blows, so you're not worried about his shield saving him from it. As you charge in, you keep a close eye on the tentacle. And that whole damn light show he's putting on right now. You can't afford to get hit by that thing again, or anything else he might have on him. You make like you're going to make a right step and slash at him, only to stop at the last second and slide left and swing your axe at his shoulder. It's time to see just how goo of a shield he can make.

> HADEAN

"Oh, you blood bukkake everyone? You perv." Fucking sand. You were raised in it and this is how it repays you. Dirty trick though, you should have been hurling sand at him! If you weren't busy. Stabbing him. Yeahh..... Oops? At least it's a momentary distraction, because you have a axe coming at you. You get your shield up but not enough- thank god for the armor you constructed under your shirt that takes most of the blow. But you can still feel blood welling up, not enough to stop you from getting by unscathed. Shoulder wounds are so nasty- did he slice your tattoo? Fuck, you'll need to get it redone. The pains are adding up, but you press an attack with the tentacle at the same time you go for a shield bash, pulling your mangled shoulder away. It's pretty deep, but you've had worse. You switch hands that the shield is in and let the tentacle swing to your injured side to take over, hoping you've got enough time between attacks to form another one.

> EMEREL

"What can I say? A man has needs. And mine include blood bukkake-ing everyone." Your chest is squishing with the blood and you deeply regret that gambit. It played out so much better in your head. That was a bad time to mess up that badly, but whatever. It is what it is, you guess. On the bright side, you think it's starting to heal itself already. Thank goodness for speedy healing. At the very least, you can make Hadean bleed to make yourself feel better. When you see blood bubbling up around where you hit him, you decide to go for a second opening while you have the chance before that tentacle gets you, jerking hard on his braid which is dangling in your arm's reach and aiming the blunt end of the staff at whatever unprotected point you can reach.

> HADEAN

Boy, you're starting to hurt. Your arm is definitely protesting all this moving around you're making it do, and your body is already pulling energy away from your constructs to worry about the damage done. Stupid shitty psionics, not realizing you need to win the battle before you worry about repairs. Your hair is getting a lot of yanking today, you don't like it. You pull the shield in against his staff hit but the injuries make it flimsy- instead of absorbing the hit it shatters and you still get a nasty hit that will no doubt leave a mark. You don't like this, you're starting to get angry- your shield is gone so you just reach out to grab the arm wielding the halberd with one hand while you blindly let your tentacle form a projectile, flinging it at Emerel's face. Well, it's the right color for a brick at least?

> EMEREL

His defenses are weakening. You can see it. He's moving more slowly and even his powers are having trouble keeping up. You're winning. You just need a few more good hits and you can finally knock his ass right out of the ring. You raise your knee, getting ready to kick him out of the circle the two of you are inching closer to, when you suddenly wraps his hand around your halberd arm. You twist your body and move your arm to break it out of his hand past the thumb. You're already pulling back to kick at his chest while you're at it. What you didn't expect, however, was the light coming at your face. You immediately duck, but it's too late; there's a searing pain in your face and the pain is shooting through your eye and all the way into your neck. You let out a shout and swing your halberd blindly at Hadean, your pan frantically trying to figure out what the hell even just happened. "What the fuck are you doing?!" You snap at him, finally going through with that kick to the chest you were trying for in the first place.

> HADEAN

Haaaa, sweet sweet face contact. Followed by nearly getting gored by him flailing his halberd, but you dodge that by the skin of your teeth, riding high on his shout. Well, until he fucking kicks you. Oww. You nearly buckle, your poor torso is really not doing alright, but he sounds so pissed. "Just improving your face a little bit Em! Fans might find a facial scar charming! And you'll get to look in the mirror and remember this fight for the rest of your life." Was that too much? Fuck it, who cares? You got to hit him in the face.

"Uggh, you-" Oh, now you're mad. You're shaking mad. You've been hit in the face before during these fights, but it's specifically when Hadean does it that you're pissed off. This was supposed to be a no kill fight and that's the second blow that could have legitimately killed you, even if the first one was your own damn fault. undefinedImproving your face a little bit, Em. He says that that's it. That's just it. You grip your weapon so hard that the leather is digging into your palms. You hiss as him, loud and sharp and more animall than troll. Your fangs are bared and you're lunging at him, one hand aiming for his throat, the other raising your weapon (which, miraculously, is still set to the blunt end) to hopefully stick in his skull

> HADEAN

Oh. Ohhh he didn't like that, did he? That's a nasty noise coming out of him, and a nasty look, and- fuck, he's gonna try to kill you. You knew that look just fine, makes your pumper skip a beat before the survival instinct kicks in. He's got a hand on your throat and it's enough, he's going to try and kill you? He's dead. If only you knew how dead he really was. It's just a light glow, outlining his hand around your throat as your psionics open up and swallow his lifeforce in. It's always such a heady feeling- you imagine this is what being high might be like, might be trying to capture this euphora. To be able to hold the stuff that lets a troll breathe, let them love and grow and be- and to take it away. To make it so you breathe. But the euphoria fades about the same time as your body jerks, eyes and horn jerking from rust to jade. Something's wrong. Why do you feel cold? What is this? What did he do? You can't identify the anti-life, the death trying to spread through you- not while your pan is screaming that you're dying. You crumple in to the sand and you can't move, your body is spasming but you aren't controlling it. It feels like there's acid in your veins, but instead of burning it's freezing. You might be making noises, you don't know. All you know is that it hurts. In other words, you're fucked.

> EMEREL

You really don't know what you're doing. Somewhere in the back of your head, Pheres' worries about your temper flash and you get a cold feeling as you realize just how well he actually had you pegged there. You're about to let go of Hadean's throat and punch him or something instead when he starts fucking glowing. Oh no. Shit. Instead of the sharp, piercing pain that you were expecting, however, you get a hollow, light feeling. Your head feels light and fuzzy and all at once every muscle in your body feels like it's made of lead. You shake and tremble, clutching vaguely at your chest as you literally lose your ability to breathe. Hadean is seizing up like he's having an attack and all you can think is that something has gone very, very wrong. He's screaming. Are you screaming? You think you're screaming. You collapse to the side of him, shaking hard and gasping for air before you finally feel too heavy to struggle anymore. You feel warm blood on your face and then nothing else as your eyes close and the sweet embrace of...something...takes you over.

> GLIESE

You were running toward Hadean even before he fell. Before _both_ of them fell. These _stupid fucking morons._ You hate both of them! You’re going to skin them and use their hides for _leather!_ You don’t know what just happened, but it doesn’t take a genius to realize it’s bad. Hadean’s rust. He’s in more danger. You feel a stab of guilt - but Emerel has Pheres, he has caste on his side, and something really bad just happened to your lowblood friend. You pick him up, struggling under his lanky form, but you put him over your shoulder regardless with blueblood strength and start marching off, looking for a mediculler, looking for somewhere you can keep him so that nobody tries to _cull his stupid ass._ He deserves it. Fucking idiot. But you drag him to the mediculler’s hut anyway, and the yellowblood doctor there immediately starts working on him. You get up, worrying, worrying, guarding the door in case anyone gets a bright idea. You’d attack almost anyone right now if they tried anything - Hadean’s _yours._ He’s stupid, he’s reckless, but he’s _your_ friend and damned if you’re going to let him die from some stupid fucking fight.

> PRISMA

The fight seems to be turned on its head within seconds, and with that you're standing up and looking over the ring with confusion. What the hell was going on? You'd known this was foolish, and turning quickly into a furious blood bath, but at the sight of Hadean seizing you feel like you should act -- before that, though, a blue blood is darting out towards them You reach out briefly, brows furrowed, and then you're physically hit by something. It causes you to suck in sharply, covering your mouth and causing your heart to contract in -- fear? You aren't sure. It's not something you're familiar with. It blooms quickly from your chest, turning into a horrific split of lightning through your head that blurs your vision and sends shocks through your map of the area. Everything is alive, and then suddenly it isn't, and when you are able to fight through the feeling, you push through to follow after the blue blood snatching Hadean. Was it Hadean? Where did the other... Emerel...? Why couldn't you feel what they were... It didn't matter. Someone should have broken them up -- you, actually, should have broken them up. Inhibitor be damned. It's strange feeling... anger? Why were you able to feel this suddenly? You arrive at the hut, clutching at your eye as if that would stop the pain behind it. There wasn't really anything you could do but wait. You aren't foolish enough to try to get in the middle of this -- and you aren't foolish enough to see what touching Hadean would do to you -- or him.

> BUDINO

You watch the fight in pure shock and horror, your mouth hanging slightly open as you watch Em let out that unnatural hiss. You feel the chill race down your spine when you realize that the fang bearing and screaming that he's doing, that leap, that choke attempt...they're all things that you've done before, when you were a different person. Is this really some type of genetic lineage bullshit? Regardless, you're on your feet and racing at top speed to Emerel when you see him convulse and fall to the ground. What did Hadean do to him? Whatever it was, it clearly hurt him too. Whatever. That's not what you're worried about. You kneel next to your 'brother,' trying hard and failing to shake him away. "Emerel, get up. Come on." When that fails, you at least pull your apron out of your inventory to wrap around his chest. You could at least try to help with the bleeding.

> HADEAN

You're in too much pain to really register that you're moving- but you do notice that you're being carried by someone just spilling over with energy. You can judge it as blue- gliese, some frazzled corner of your thinkpan provides. But you're on cloth, you can feel the energy but it's trapped away from you. You're put down, the energy retreating to be replaced by a candlestick, burning down to nothingness much quicker. Again, a barrier. You want to scream as you realize they're trying to heal you. You didn't have energy, they were going to be working on a corpse soon! But then, there's a hand against your shoulder, wonderful skin. You can't help it, you need it- you slip some of her life away before your thinkpan provides gliese again and you force yourself away. It's enough, you think. The pain is ebbing back, you don't feel like you're being frozen alive. Your psi sputters back to rust as you raise a hand to feebly wave at the mediculler. "Getchur pawsof me." Well, you tried.

> GLIESE

You snort at him. Dumbass. But your ears raise and your eyes tinge orange as someone else arrives at the entrance and you lift your hand off your friend’s shoulder, ready to defend yourself and him, but it’s just Prisma. “You said you were his friend, so I’m gonna give you the benefit of the doubt and not stick you with my scythe.” You say curtly. “Don’t make me change my mind.” You watch him carefully as the medic does their work, ears slightly lower but still wary to any sound, any rustle of movement. Before your fleet training you might have been tempted to take an occasional anxious glance at Hadean, but if the military’s good at anything it’s taught you discipline. You’re focused like a good soldier.

> PRISMA

You manage a heavy sigh, unconvering your eye briefly as you lean against one of the poles before you glower somewhat at Gliese. You're too frazzled by Hadean's twisting emotions to do much more in retaliation, though. In your state, it wasn't like you could take her. He wasn't dying, was he? You just met him... It's an empty feeling, though, replaced by a torrent of frustration, terror, breathlessness, help? Lock, trap, blue, trap, trapt, trapped, blue -- You inhale sharply and shut your eyes tightly. And suddenly it's gone. You hold your abdomen and look worryingly over to the rust on the table. You just met him... You can't even be frustrated. You just stare for a few moments until he moves, lacking the ability to feel proper joy or relief so much as the hollowness leaving you briefly. "Hadean?"

> SIPARA

Red-faced, annoyed, you'd helped Pheres move Emerel from the sandy field to the stands as Gliese - _Gliese_, of all fucking people - hauls Hadean off. "He'll be _fine,_ he's _jade_," you tell him and the jade alike, your flaps all the way back. "Pheres, Maidel - you can spark 'em to the cart, but for fuck's sake, don't _lift him_. Wrap the torso, stick one of those bloodsacks on him, don't _jar the wound_ --" It takes longer than you'd like to actually wrest yourself free! It's a guilt thing, mostly. Pheres is furious and shaking and dry-eyed in that way that means he's contemplating murdering something, and you ought to pap him down - but he _dumped you_, and you're more concerned about Hadean's life right now than Pheres's emotional _fit._ At least Prisma's there to keep Gliese from doing anything stupid. "Pri!" you yelp as soon as you're at the hut of the mediculler, shoving your way through the door. "Is Hads okay? Like, what the fuck happened out there?"

> HADEAN

God, this is so not your night. Everyone's showing up now, are they there to gawk? They're going to have questions that you... Really don't want to answer. But hard to avoid it now, isn't it? Hard to focus on them when you hurt so much. Especially your damn shoulder. And your arm. Breaks suck. Stupid shambling corpse jade bastards suck. As nice as it would be to just sleep, you don't know if you can. You still need an actual meal sometime soon- Gliese was enough to balance out the spiral that that undead energy had sent you down, but you still feel like you're running on fumes. The glow of your horn is probably a sad sight, sputtering flames as you try swatting at the mediculler again. "Need to go." You try to rise, and it doesn't- go well. Your body sends up a chorus of pain that lays you flat for a moment, choking on a curse. Getting the shit beaten out of you is never nice, being so fucking drained is just the cherry on top. But you're stubborn and you try again, baring your teeth at the mediculler. Hey, at the very least you might diffuse any hot tempers from flaring up in the tent.

> PRISMA

You look immediately to Sipara when her burning presence bursts through the tent. Shaking your head, you can't even process what to tell her. "Hadean had some sort of reaction. I don't know, but I felt it. It may have been psionic, there is no telling," you attempt, at least, to offer something up. "But he was very hurt. And very scared. I didn't feel anything from Emerel, though. Nothing at all." It's stated like a report, as if you're coolly relaying a dispatch to an officer. As the laid out red blood begins to fight against the doctor, you take a step closer with a wary eye on Gliese. Clearly he didn't have enough energy for something - it didn't take a genius to figure that out if his horn was sustained psionically. It certainly couldn't be physical. "Go where, Hadean?"

>SIPARA

ou like Pri, you decide. Unlike everyone else, he just rattles off information without even needing you to threaten him with it. It's for the best, because as soon as Hadean tries to sit up and chokes, you kind of want to kill something. "Thanks, dude. And what the actual fuck," you complain instead, stalking closer. Gliese might shank you for getting this close, but whatever, you don't care. "You can't even get up, dude. Where the hell would you be going? Is he feverish?" Being rude to the mediculler never helps. That doesn't stop you from trying to lay a hand on his skin, though, just to check.

> HADEAN

Right, Prisma was an empath or whatever. He's feeling your shit. You might have felt bad for that- you probably will, later- but right now you're just focused on getting your sorry ass up. Easier said than done when you're getting a bunch of well-intentioned jerks butting in. You'd feel touched, but. They're interfering in stuff they didn't know about and didn't have to understand. "I just need to go." Man, even talking hurts. You just had to find someone, get them alone. You wouldn't be picky right now, even a maroon would do. Speaking of maroons, Sipara is coming closer. She touches you and there's the urge to drain, but no. She's a friend. ...But the parasites are another story. They're a shitty meal, really. Like trying to gorge yourself on fortune cookies. But it's the best you have at the moment without losing a friend, isn't it? You can't stop yourself from making a low sound as you take the energy, a mouthful of water when you're blistering in the fucking desert. Hopefully Sip can get the bastard off before it goes for her blood.

> PRISMA

"Of course," you reply, just before Sipara launches into her spiel. Lord... "That doesn't make sense, Hadean. Your body can't sustain movement right now..." you say quietly, remaining at a distance with the other three tending to him. "You have to stay. If you go the injuries could tear again..." You're at a loss for words and action, instead looking with worry between Sipara and Hadean. You can't feel anything else from him, so he must be fine...? No, that's not right either. And what was with the noise... "What is it you need to leave for, so badly?"

>SIPARA

You're not expecting him to touch your arm. You're definitely not expecting the flash of colours that means your prosthetics levels are plummeting - - but this time, at least, you've got the sense to snap off a _disconnect_ before the fangs dig into retaliation. The worm goes limp as the fangs pull out, sliding down your arm in the process, and you hasten it by half-yanking the rest off. It's already stiffening into a defensive curl when you drop it on his lap. "Don't be so fucking petty," you snap. "If you don't wanna be touched, you can just _say! _

> HADEAN

Oh my god, you're dying and she's whining like you're killing her worms to spite her. You groan and try to force yourself up, slightly more successful this time- you sit up, even if you wobble. Your head is spinning, but you swallow against the dizziness. There's a worm in your lap and you grab it to see if there's anything left in it for you before you weakly shove it off. "Need energy." You squint at the floor, trying to judge if you can stand. How are you expecting to get past all four of them? You weren't planning, you just know you need to. Damn them for caring.

> PRISMA

You flinch somewhat at the sharp reprimand, curling your hands at your side. What did he do to her... arm? You don't understand in the slightest, watching in some horror as she pries this grotesque something off of her arm. In another life, you might be somewhat nauseated. This time, you move to try to help Hadean steady themselves, "You should stand against someone, or the table. You could black out," You said hurriedly, "What sort of energy?" You look to Sipara, as if she might be able to produce an answer for all of you. Psionic energy? But... that was an extension of will. He said his was... no, he denied it was metabolic. So what was it? The puzzle is irritating.

>SIPARA

His horn is a little brighter, is the first thing you notice. That's a relief; the way he isn't even bothering to bite back at your snap deflated you, quick as anything. Maybe he's feeling better? No. He's swaying just from sitting up. And Prisma's looking at you. And there's a dead worm on the ground, same as your last one. (When did he zap that one? When you said you wanted to fight him...?) "Tyrian tits, dude." You hate taking the prosthetic off of your bad arm, not least of all because it hooks in tighter: there's those pinprick flashes of pain as it disconnects from your nerves, but at least it's made to come off easier. And if you roll your shoulder after it's free, it looks like it's just asleep, not dead. At least, it better. You toss the freed prosthetic one handed at Prisma, trying not to frown too hard. You're settling a theory, that's all. "They've got psi, " you deadpan. "Let's see if he wants to cull that one, too.

> GLIESE

You decide to sit down and curl up into a ball as Prisma and Sipara talk. A sudden apathy washes over you. You’ve done everything you can. You can only wait. Though you do frown as Hadean…what did he do? Sipara’s bug is just…dead. At least the mediculler doesn’t seem at all perturbed by Hadean’s insistence and keeps working, sanitizing, bandaging, and packing, cleaning him up. “He’s not feverish.” says the yellowblood quietly. “No warmer than a maroon should be.” “If you need psi - “ You finally say, hoarse. “ - take mine. My bloodline’s stupid strong, it won’t do anything.” Even if it did, you wouldn’t care. Hadean’s life is worth more than some lousy mind control.

> HADEAN

Well, Prisma makes a good brace to just sort of lean yourself against. You tell yourself you'll just give yourself a minute. Then you'll stand. That sounds good. "I'll black you out, hush." Yeah. Keep acting tough, even when you're feeling weak as a half-squashed grub. You frown at Sipara when you notice she's doing something, then her arm is off. Huh. Neat. She tosses it to Prisma worm and all, and you might grab at it a little eagerly. Fuck the eyes watching you, you'd deal with it somehow... Later. For now you just focus on that little burst of energy you get from the worm, leaving it to have its death throes in Prisma's arms as you close your eyes. At least it's enough to give your horn a faint little constant glow, you're not just coughing up sparks for the moment. But you know it'll come, you have a lot of damage to repair. And oh, they're talking. "I don't eat psi." God, look at her just offering up her powers to you. That's the only thing that gets her that fancy desk job later in life, isn't it? Jeez... "Uh. Thanks for the offer." Hey, you can try to be polite. Even when you're three-quarters dead.

> PRISMA

"I will see it coming. I do not recommend that, friend." You resituate how to support Hadean when Sipara tosses the... creature... to you. The last thing you wanted was to hold this in your bare hand, but you don't actually have any complaints-- at least until Hadean's touch causes it to seize and crumple. You drop it to the floor, staring down at it numbly before your attention is pulled towards Gliese's offer. If it's not psi... but it can be sustained by food... You purse your lips, eyeing Hadean beside you in silence and waiting for Sipara's authority. Until then, though, you are determined to either keep a grip on Hadean or keep them in arms length.

>SIPARA He doesn't eat psi, but he's murdering all of your worms. And he fucked up Emerel fairly bad. And, yeah, now there's a glow worth noting in his horns again, and... You blow out your cheeks, trying not to look as alarmed as you're starting to feel. It's Hadean, he's _fine_, and besides, you're totally going down murder hive lane for no good goddamn reason. You've never heard of psionics working like that. They expel, they don't _siphon._ "Sit the fuck down, Hads," you say, curt. This is his deal. You don't need to shout it to everyone in the room, especially when one's blue. "You don't need to _hold_ him, Pri chill already. You need energy, Hads, we'll get you some." "How raw do you want it? "There. You're the queen of subtlety.

> GLIESE

If he doesn’t eat psi, what the fuck is his deal? Oh. Energy. Weird. But whatever. And now Sipara’s offering, and you roll your eyes a little but don’t comment. At least she’s helping. …wait. Was that why - did he try to pull that on Emerel, and - ? Your eyes narrow, but now’s not the time. Though if he did, why did it fail on the jade? Emerel’s as energetic as anyone. You feel a stab of guilt for abandoning him, but he has Pheres and that greenblood to fuss over him, plus caste on his side. He’ll be okay. You’ll visit him later. “Yeah, Hadean. Name it. We’ll get it.” You say, wry.

> HADEAN

Sip's smart, you have to give her that. But then of course she is, growing her worms and doing all that lab shit. You've given her enough information now for her to make a calculated guess. You're not sure what you expected of her when she started putting the dots together, but... This wasn't it. You just stare at her, wondering if this is a trick. Or if you're more fucked than you thought you were. Do trolls hallucinate when they die? Maybe. You settle on the bench, licking your lips as you try to figure out what the fuck you do. But there's not much choice now, is there? They all know enough. "Fuck. Fucking. Raw as it gets. Colder the better." You turn your head to stare down the mediculler, because they're an unknown in all of this. Would they blab? Maybe it was best to take care of them.

> ULLANe

Your only response to the redblood glaring at you - Hadean, you’ve gathered, from everyone saying his name so much - is to raise one eyebrow. “Your powers are none of my business.” You say, shrugging. “Culling me is ill-advised. I can leave you all deathly ill with my psi before you do, so why bother.” The blueblood makes a frustrated noise. Too bad. “I’d like to test that - “ she says, going for her scythe, but before she can she chokes, her own esophageal cells multiplying and blocking her air intake before you cut them off again. “Don’t.” You say. “I shan’t tell. As far as I’m concerned - “ You say, looking around. “ - this was a normal treatment, and nothing unusual happened. I left you to go check on the jade.” Saying so, you pack up your gear and leave to do just that. Whatever they get up to now is none of your business.

>SIPARA

The mediculler flounces with a flick of her fingers that sets Gliese to choking. It is manners alone that keeps you from grinning until you're out of the tent, and then you're fairly cackling as you walk away. You hate walking without your prosthetic. Your bad arm jangles next to you like a weight you can't feel, startling you every time it brushes your thigh, but luckily Pheres's cart isn't that far. The stall is still attached to the front, even, for all that the doors have all been shut and the curtains on the van proper drawn shut. And there's Lal, right where you left him. Well. Not quite. "What, he wouldn't let you in?" you ask, sympathetic. "Soz. Hey, wanna help me steal a goat?"

> LALEDY

In your defense, you did try to get into the cart - but no amount of pizza peace offerings are going to calm Pheres down from the mood he's in. Understandably: you're pretty sure his matesprit is dead. That doesn't stop you from being anxiously restless as you strain to hear inside the cart and wait for someone to show up before a fairgoer decides your loitering is getting suspicious. Thankfully, Sipara comes loping over to your rescue. No worse for wear despite what you're sure was a tense situation, though with a little less volume on one side. "Depends," you declare, shoving yourself off the side of the cart, "That, uh, Pheres, on accounta the attitude and, y'know-" You gesture at your own horns- "Or the one that up and ate your frond?"

> SIPARA

"Neither! We are stealing, like, a totally unrelated hoofbeast that's innocent of all crimes. Shit's gonna be wicked." He doesn't look chill. He looks, actually, pretty much the _opposite_, and you catch yourself looking at the van like you can peer inside. "So. Uh." God, you shouldn't ask. "Is he, y'know -" _Croaked it_ isn't a good term, not when Pheres might hear it. "How's he doing?" you say instead, twisting your mouth to the side.

> LALEDY

"Well," you concede, hoping Sipara doesn't ask. "So long's I ain't gonna get short, mad, and fluffy on my tail. Cos, uh-" She asks. Damn it. So much for getting away from the death and angst card immediately. You lean back against it, shoving your hands into your hoodie pockets. "- I ain't a medical professional," you say carefully, awkward and a good bit quieter. "But, uh - green dude ain't, like. Aspiratin' or nothin'."

>SIPARA

Laledy looks like it's _his_ clademate that just croaked it. You should feel worse, you think. But it's not you know Emerel! And it's not like Pheres's even known him for _long_. Still, he's still going to be frothing, so you puff out your cheeks, and with great reluctance, rap hard on the door. You barley get to a second knock before a window cracks open, and Pheres's voice drifts out. "He's fine," Pheres snaps. His voice's gone all _throaty_, in a way that makes your ears pin back at the sound of it. "And you're not allowed in, so just - _fuck off._" A moment later, the window snaps shut. "Well," you say, turning around. Your cheeks are warm. _Goddamnit._ ".. uh. Shit. Um. Thanks.. for staying? Y'know. During that."

> LALEDY

Pheres sounds like he's either been crying or is about to, and that's just about more emotional vulnerability than you can tolerate from a guy that you're barely friends with. Sipara doesn't sound much less comfortable when she turns her back, and you're relieved at the chance to jog a few steps to catch up with her. You duck around until you're on the side of her good arm, pressing your fingers to her elbow so she can lead you to wherever you're going to... catch a goat, apparently. You shrug awkwardly. "Ain't no big. Gotta make sure a guy ain't gonna go nothin' - y'know, right?" Well, that's certainly a sentence that made sense. "He'll be fine. Pher, I mean. Ain't so sure 'bout his boo, but..." There's not really a 'but' that follows, and you're not entirely sure how to even have this conversation. The one boon to being stuck outside listening to make sure Pheres didn't, like, hurt himself or snuff Emerel was that you didn't have to talk to anybody about the potentially dead guy in the van. "Why're we gettin' a bleatbeast?" you blurt.

> PHERES

You have no idea what to do. It's a good thing that Budino's being quiet in the corner, because right now, you'd cull him if he said a word. It didn't work. He looks like he's sleeping, with scarcely a dent in his face to show it was ever injured, and he's not sleeping: he's _dead_. The saw is still lying where you left it. If you have to, you'll cut off his head. But.. maybe you'll just wait, first. It can't hurt to wait. "Maidel," you say, and you hate the way your voice rasps. "You should go. _Please._ Thank you, but.. Go."

> MAIDEL

You completely understand. You fixed Emerel - mostly - but it doesn’t seem to have done any good. You don’t understand. His body responded to your healing, but…he’s still… You don’t even want to think about it. You hang your head and don’t say a word, going out at Pheres’s orders, floppy ears sadly drooping even more than usual. But then those ears flip up slightly as you see Sipara and Laledy walking off, and tilt your head as the jade asks why they’re getting a goat. “Why ARE you getting a bleat beast?” You ask curiously. Maybe it’s none of your business, but you need something to do, and - wait, where did Sipara’s prosthetics go? You’ve _never_ seen her without them before. You hurry over to them, concerned. “What’s going on?”

>SIPARA

Maidel looks like someone shot Kabiir in front of him, and then started eating. It is entirely too fucking depressing. "We're getting a bleatbeast to impress he-who-must-not-be-named," you murmur, quiet enough that Pheres won't hear. "C'mon, Maidie-baby, you're getting conscripted to help us out, on accounta the fact, like, I'm _totes_ down an arm." "And how else are we gonna carry it, if you don't come with?"

> LALEDY

You suck in a breath through your teeth and realize - well, shit, you've now got one friend that's culled another friend's quadrant. At least Sipara doesn't seem to have forsaken Hadean - or you think so, anyways. Maidel catches up the few steps to the two of you, and you wave an awkward hello, briefly considering letting go of Sipara's arm before you decide you don't currently give a fuck. "Where we gettin' it?" you ask, "Cos, lemme tellya, it ain't been smellin' near's bad as I'd've figured for a place what's up and got bleatbeasts to spare. And, like, why's Hads want a goat?" You suppose it's better than him not needing a goat, on account of being dead.

> MAIDEL

You blink as Sipara tells you why, and you don’t really understand, but she is your boss, so you shrug and go along with it. Pheres would probably want you to keep an eye on the pair of them anyway, just to be safe. Besides, you kind of like the nickname. “I can take care of it.” You say, confident. You don’t even have to carry it - you can just stick it in a safe plane and retrieve it. That way you don’t have to worry about it getting loose. “Um, one second - “ You take your fair map out of your sylladex, looking it over, and then showing it to Sipara, waving a freckled finger over an area labelled ‘authentic historical food, slaughtered fresh!’. “They’ll probably have one, or something like it.” You walk with them, and even though you’re further away now, you still lower your voice to ask. “Is Hadean okay?”

>SIPARA You give Laledy a long look. "Do you _really_ want to know why he wants a goat? Like, really? Really?" "And - yeah, we'll get it from there. Sounds good." Lal's clinging to your arm, and it's.. actually, weirdly sort of endearing. You need people on your arm more: if it weren't currently being dead-weight, you'd probably loop your others through Maidel's. "Hadean's.. aright. Why wouldn't he be?" "He's not the dumbass that walked into a fucking _knife._"

> LALEDY

You stare at Sipara. "Pal, the way you're goin', there's like a 50% chance you're about to tell me he wants to pail it, and a 50% chance you're gonna say we're summonin' the Demoness, and, gotta say, there's zactly one a'those options I ain't down for." Then she calls Emerel a dumbass for walking into a knife, and you bark an incredulous laugh. "Wait, for cereals? Even I ain't that shit at fightin'! Uh, crap-" You just insulted a dead guy and somebody needs to tape your mouth shut- "Then what'sa matter with 'im? I wan't half-sure he wasn't, like, also dead."

> MAIDEL

Your face knits in worry as Sipara questions Laledy, but you nod as she agrees. Then you’re puzzled again, but from her tone, you figure it’s better not to ask, and you wince at her last comment before trying to withhold slightly horrified laughter at the jadeblood’s remarks. “I don’t think Hadean has the energy for the first one.” You say, bemusedly. “And I think we’d have to offer the Demoness better than just a goat, probably.” You give the jade an alarmed look, but he seems to have realized his mistake - besides, you have no idea how well he knows Emerel. Maybe he hasn’t even met him properly. “He’s probably just recovering, I imagine.” You say, partially to help Sipara out. “Those wounds looked nasty.”

> SIPARA

"Look, what I'm _saying_, Lal, is that we're gonna walk in, drop off a goat, and close our eyes to whatever fucked up shit goes down before we manage to get the fuck out. Why do you have to go 'n make it weird?" A beat. "'sides, why can't he do both? Hadean's, like, _talented_, dude." .. are you supposed to fight Laledy over him insulting Pheres's quad? He's dead. He can't exactly _object_, and Pheres isn't exactly here to _hear_, so... nah. "He's fine! He's just gotta sit, take a breath and then walk it the fuck off." You shrug. "You saw the braid thing, dude, 's just woozy," you drawl, light, and then you nudge Maidel with your shoulder. Thank god she's so tall. "Hey, babe, you leadin' the way? 'cause beeteedubs, I have _no_ fucking idea where this is."

"Uh, right." The braid thing, whatever that was. "Ain't impugnin' Hads's many talents, pal, just wonderin' what choice I made in life that's let to this demonic cult I just joined, and also how you know the Demoness goes in for that kinda ish. Like, pal, if we're gettin' her a bleatbeast, seems kinda shit to get her a used bleatbeast!" You thought that maybe if you talked enough, it would somehow eliminate the awkward, but you forgot that you opening your mouth absolutely never entails a lowering in awkwardness. At least Sipara is half as lost as you are. You snort at her - the blind leading the blind.

> MAIDEL

You make a lot of faces as the two of them talk. You’ve lost count of how many different emotions you’ve been running through. “Oh! Yes, I’m taking us there. It should only be a few more minutes.” You reassure her. You keep switching between the map and the landmarks, anxious to keep the three of you on the right track, and you’re pretty sure it’ll be coming up soon. You laugh a little at Laledy’s comments. “I’m about…ninety percent sure, there will be no heraldic figure of doom summoning.” You say. “Oh! Yup, there it is, uh…hm.” You come up on the place, and you can tell by the smell and sound of it. There’s a very menacing looking yellowblood with a butcher knife, slicing a bloody haunch of meat at a stand, but peering around that you can see stalls from where bleating and mooing is coming. “Hm.” You say again, more quietly, thinking. “I think one of you might want to distract the stall keeper, while I get close enough to grab the bleatbeast…that part’s easy, I just need to make sure I won’t be getting a blade in the neck.”

>SIPARA

"Dude, the fuck is your thing with demon summoning? You got _practice?_" You jeer at him: "-'cause if you do, don't tell Queenie. Pretty sure she's the only spoopy thing allowed in the shop." You lace your fingers through Laledy's, then use that to tug him forward. "We'll distract him," you declare. "C'mon! It'll be just like the musical dude, In Which Seven Young Signmates are In Need of Kismesises (And One Case of Auspisticism). You've seen that, right? Or - shit." You pause, peering at Maidel, your ears pricking forward. "Can you even carry a goat by yourself?"

> LALEDY

"Duh," you tell Sipara, sticking out your tongue, "Ain't you heard? It's, like, emogoth chic, I gotta be true to my identity-!" You were going to keep going, but then Sipara actually grabs your hand, winding her fingers through yours like you're in a romcom, and now you're walking together instead of behind her, hands swinging between the two of you. Well, that's one way to shut you up. You're pretty sure you've gone green up to your ears. The last time you'd held someone's hand, Cateex looked at you like you'd rotated your head 360 degrees. "Well," you manage, though not without missing a beat or three, "If there's precedent - and, shit, pal, who's up and questionin' peeps' talents now? Maybe she can, like, carry two bleatbeasts, even! One for Hads, one for the Demoness."

> MAIDEL

You laugh, letting a few lime green sparks off from your eyes - not too noticeable unless you’re looking closely, but apparent to anyone within a few feet. “I don’t have to.” You say, smiling. “But I _am_ going to vanish with it, so we’ll have to meet up somewhere else. Pheres’s cart?” Aww, Laledy’s blushing. It’s kind of adorable. Are he and Sipara quadrants? Well, none of your business, you suppose. Maybe your bosses just like jades. “I could grab two, but I think one is enough to worry about.” You say dryly. “Unless you really want one as well, Laledy.”

>SIPARA

"'sactly! And -" Wait, Lal's blushing. Why? .. over-exertion, probs. For fuck's sake, why'rne you always surrounded by a bunch of waifs? But you slow down, obliging up until Maidel chirps off that line. "Holy shit, _no_, not Pher's. You -" You pause, completely serious: "- you, Maidie, keep the fuck away from the cart for awhile, 'kay? 'til he says he wants you there. Like, either of us pops back up, he's gonna eat our fucking faces. Let him cool off." "Take it to the mediculler tents! Hads in the fifth one down."

> LALEDY

"So he is effed up!" you accuse, "What's he gone to the mediculler's for? And what's the bleatbeast for?" To be clear: You are totally down for stealing a goat. You're just incredibly fucking confused, have no idea what went down the entire fight and how and why everyone is so injured, and this is, like, the one thing you can probably get a decent answer for so by the Mother Grub, you're going to get it. "And shit, pal," you tack on, midlly disbelieving, "The more the merrier! Just pop on over with one on each shoulder like it's nbd, yeah?"

> MAIDEL

You wince, but of course Sipara’s right. Even if you didn’t go in and just stopped by before taking the goat away with you, Pheres might be mad, and you don’t want to deal with that. “Right.” You say, nodding. “I’ll see you there then.” You snort. “Not really…but it’d take me too long to explain. The point is, I can do it and leave no trace. It’s a psi thing. Anyway. I’ll wait until they’re focused on the pair of you, and then I’ll dart in and get one. It shouldn’t take me more than a few minutes.”

> BUDINO

You've been quietly sitting in your corner of Pheres' cart, not particularly wanting to say anything even if it didn't look like Pheres might eat you if you so much as breathed too loudly. You keep your knees drawn to your chest as you stare down at the floor. This is way too familiar to you and you hate it. This is why you try not to like people. It always ends up like this and you're starting to think your existence is just fatal luck to everyone else. You stand up, slowly padding over to Emerel's body when Pheres isn't looking, staring down at his face. This is distressing, how much he looks like you. Is this what you'll look like whenever something finally finishes you off? Somehow, the thought is...it usually comforts you, but now it just fills you with bubbling terror when you're actually looking your double in the cold, dead face. You keep expecting him to wake up and yell at you to get a new sign, but he won't. You know he won't. You sigh loudly, your shoulders slumping as you rest your arms on the table next to him, letting your forehead fall on them. Fuck. Everything.

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