#nivets

[skirmish-sims-blog]

Aka. Run!

[skirmish-sims-blog]

Then he starts flirting with her. I think he is trying to be suave.

[skirmish-sims-blog]

Hey they are finally getting along!

[skirmish-sims-blog]

Another day of work for Nivets as she transforms a chair into a different chair.

[the-bad-bishop-connection]

The Taking of the Xantulous: Seven Minutes in Hell

It was a torture and a blessing both to hear so much that not a single thing goes unnoticed. Had he been any less practiced, maybe, or any less able to shut out the voices that weren't so important, Tanbat might have gone insane sweeps ago. To some, he may already have been.

  "Helm.playSound("Captain...wav");" The ship shakes again, and only Tanbat and a few other helmsman would know why. Tattered ears that have long since been deaf and useless try to lower as the brownblooded helmsman hears them all through his psionics. They're targeting the helmsman first, crippling the ship and taking out power sources so that it can't run...

  "☠ I know. ☠" And in the background, almost too quiet, Nivets speaks under her breath. "☠ We'll get out. I'm coming. Tan, I'll be there. Don't worry. ☠"

  'They'll get out'. The helmsman doesn't respond to his Indigo Captain and she doesn't speak again. There's too much to listen to otherwise, anyhow. Somewhere, a secretary is rattling off names and offenses to one of the official judicial agents, in other places, fighters are being sent out to take care of escapees... 

  Space is soundless, but he doesn't need the sounds of the explosions to hear the reports come in of the ships that have been destroyed.

  In silence and solitude, Tanbat quivers.

  ~~~ "Ya have ta make ssssomething other than candy! Ya can't jusssst expect the sssship ta run on nothing but ssssnack food!" Maybe for some trolls it would be a suitable diet, but not these. The tray and candy-making tools rattle as they slide down the counter, so fast that if the Indigo in her tophat hadn't slammed her hand down to stop it, everything she'd been working on for the past hour would have scattered across the floor.

  "I-!"

  A retort was forthcoming, but the lurch of the floor proved more pressing than a familiar fight. Surprised out of their rage, both Indigo and greenblood cling to the counters for balance. "What the hell..."

  The scream of a microphone being adjusted is like an assault. Both trolls hold their ears, wincing as the speakers even on the Bishop crackle to life and blare a voice none of them recognize.

  ▌"Ahem."▐

  ~~~

  ▌"Trolls║of║the║Xantulous,║as║you║may║have║been║made║aware║of║in║the║recent ║moments,║the║ship║you║are║currently║residing║in║is║no║longer║ under║it's║own║jurisdiction."▐

  Across all of the Xantulous, the words are the same. Through every speaker, on every intercom, the world itself is besieged by one singular voice of authority. And trolls listen. Hearts sinking, eyes searching upwards as if the announcement system of the ship comes from some heavenly force, they wait for something they know, deep in every instinctual pit of their bodies, is coming.

  "[ ... ]"

  And below the kitchens, where the yelling of an Indigo and Greenblood has been nothing but a muffled background to their own exuberant studies in the wonders of Navigation, a Tealblood, Brownblood, and Cerulean exchange glances-

  -An instant before the Tealblood grabs the Cerulean's shirt and shakes him desperately.

  "[ Rorick! Ow! I'm still heali-! ]"

  "Oh my gOD I still OWE thE TROll REvENuE SERvicE tEN caEgaRs thEy'RE gOiNg tO kill mE YERmaN DO yOu havE tEN caEgaRs ON yOu I DON’t WaNt tO DiE I'm tOO bEautiful aND WONDERful I'm WORth tEN caEgaRs Right WhERE's Scat TiRRaN DO yOu havE caEgaRs plEasE say yEs!!"

  ~~~ ▌"This║is║no║mistake."▐

  The hopeful smile has long since been wiped from the darker Cerulean's face. As lavish as they are, the hotel hallways are nothing but another aspect of prison now. The frantic whispering of uncertain trolls chatter in hushed tones all around her like the voices of ghosts as she clings close to the door she had been thinking of knocking on not more than a few minutes ago. No... no, this can't be happening. Not again...

  "YermAn?" Finally, her voice squeaks out, and she taps her knuckles against the door as the announcement continues on.

  ▌"Too║long,║the║Empire║has║allowed║the║Xantulous║a║lengthy║and║luxurious║leash. ║But║lavishing║in║it's║own║bloated║privilege║was║not║enough.║Among║your║ numbers,║there║have║been║privateers,║black║market║dealers,║illegal║mutations, ║seditionists,║underaged..."▐

  No answer. With a dry throat, the Cerulean steps back and stares at the door. Maybe he could be... No, no... God no...

  ▌"Anyone║with║the║caegars║to║pay║for║silence."▐

  "Get A hold of yovrself, |<AstiA." She almost snaps at herself. There were a lot more trolls that needed her. She had a job to do, and she needed to do it. She couldn't hang around here hoping... She was a pilot. She was the pilot for the Bishop. She could do more good there... right?

  Almost as soon as the thought is in her head, she turns around and takes off running down the hallway toward the elevators.

  ~~~ ▌"Such║false║freedoms║have║their║price."▐

  Silence doesn't quite prevail in a small restaurant hidden away in a more peaceful corner of the Xantulous. Just like every other troll, and just like in every other area, the seadweller and the greenblood at the table look up as the walls ring with the commanding tones of the Empire. But though the seadweller stands, her fists balled and ready, the idea of 'enemy' wasn't so simple as something physical to subdue.  Defiance wouldn't matter; it was just a useless gesture thrown in the face of authority with as much effect as a wad of spit to the ground.

  "/\/\/ Sit down. /\/\/" Her companion stares into the drink set in front of her. Maybe, just this once, she wishes it could have been something stronger than tea.

  "what good will th@t do? it's not like-!"

  "/\/\/ Sit down, Magnia. /\/\/" Her cup hits the table solidly with a thump that cuts the young seadweller off like an axe splitting logs. Yet the silence is an uncomfortable one. Unsaid words crowd the tip of the more volatile female's tongue, kept back only by the virtue of grit teeth as she hesitates.

  ▌"Under║the║orders║of║her║royal║discipline,║the║Countess║Deepglow,║right║hand ║of║the║Alternian║Throne║and║standing║ruler║of║the║current║Empire,║the║ Xantulous║is║hereby║declared║in║a║state║of║martial║law."▐

  "f@stny?" Just as the seadweller was about to sit down, the greenblood stands up. The screech of her chair betrays the speed of the movement; though the lower castemember's face is set into an impassive mask that says nothing of her own thoughts on the matter. "but I w@s-"

  "/\/\/ We're going. /\/\/" The tone brooks no argument. Magnia falters to a stop, fixing Fastny with a worried glance before she follows the greenblood out of the restaurant.

  ~~~ Neither of them knows they're being watched.

  Just outside the restaurant, far enough away that the patrons of the Xantulous create a barrier between him and the small place to eat, there's just another figure in the crowd. Unlike the others, though, this one isn't looking up as if he expects the Empire and all it's forces to explode from the rafters like holy judgment from above. Instead, he's hunched away, his wide-brimmed hat drawn low over his eyes as a communicator shakes in his fingers. Every breath is a ragged one, screaming his thoughts for anyone that could have bothered to look. 'Can I risk it?' is written in the way he holds the communication device.

  Did they already have a bug recording ship-wide communications?

  Would he just be making it worse?

  Did they already have him??

  He has the communicator flipped open at the thought before he even knows what he's doing. Can't stop. Stopping meant doubting, stopping meant that he'd never be able to keep pressing the buttons, or that he might throw the communicator on the ground rather than grip it even harder as a familiar voice comes on over the other end of the line.

  "◁◆▷Zalkes? Zalkes, what's going on? ◁◆▷"

  Relief. Zalkes almost drops the communicator, and he lurches to keep a grip on it as he follows the progress of Magnia and Fastny not more than a dozen yards away. They're headed in a familiar direction... It's probably the best idea. "Get yerr assh to the ship. Don't be sheen."

  That's it. That's the message. Zalkes only has time to hear the words '◁◆▷6ut I thought you were fired? ◁◆▷' come from the device before he cancels the call.

  ~~~ "How did thiß happen?" The warning had come early, but still far too late. No one could have predicted the kind of force the Empire would come to call with, bearing down all it's crushing power on one ship that, in it's hubris, had thought itself too large to be under the thumb of it's leaders. Only now, too late, do they realize how small they really were. Only now, when ships twice and three times the size linger just a hyperjump away, do they see just what idiots they've been.

  The blueblood could scramble all he wanted, but no amount of papers, yelling, or previous experiences in the Alternian military were going to get him anywhere. He, more than most of the trolls on the ship, knew it. But still he clutched to it, digging through papers and running across the room to check on computers and communications, trying to appease that which could not be appeased.

  He knew how this had happened.

  "come intto my lairrr, said tthhe skeetterrr tto tthhe boll..."

  The blueblood whips around, sceleras already darkening as he reaches for Remy's insufferable neck. The tattooed Indigo is surprisingly agile in avoiding the grab. He ducks under the others' hand, hissing his words into ears that don't want to hear it.

  "i'll only ttake a littttle bitte; you'll barrrely feel itts ttoll."

  "You did thiß!! Your blatant fetißh for chaoß and dißregard for the ruleß have-" Anger isn't something the blueblood usually shows. His face so twisted, he looks for an instant like he's about to rip Remy a new breathing hole before a metal hand claps across his mouth. The sheer shock and audacity of the movement staggers him, forcing him back.

  "you know, weevil, you sound like a few ttrrrolls i know." Weevil doesn't allow the hand for long. With a snarl, he smacks Remy's arm away. A sniper rifle wasn't meant for close quarters, but at this point, it was unlikely the blueblood cares. Even as he aims, his face twists in his attempts to get a better measure of control over his own actions, breath heaving as he fixes the sights on the tattooed Indigo's damndable head.

  "go ahhead and shhoott an agentt of tthhe empirrrical tthhrrrone. i'm surrre tthhe counttess would be justt overrrjoyed if i'm dead."

  He gives him a long time to shoot. Remy waits, allowing the information to sink in as the gun slowly lowers and finally drops to the floor. After that, the Indigo exits without a word, leaving Weevil amid his papers and documents; he leaves the ship to it's steady rising hysteria as trolls start to realize that the Empire doesn't intend to disappear without it's pound of flesh. And when he comes to the middle of it, he just opens his arms to the rising chaos, and laughs.

  "tthhe tthhing aboutt a hhouse of carrrds, junebug... itt always inevittably tturrrns intto a game of fiftty-ttwo pickup."