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You stare in the mirror and check your reflection again, fingers fussing though your hair until it sits exactly right. You know it probably won't last the whole day like this but first impressions are important. You'll worry about trimming it later, you've been too busy to notice how long it's gotten recently. Before... you weren't the one who cut your hair, before, and you have to scowl and wrench your thoughts away from that before you break another mirror. You stare at your own reflection and glare until your eyes are hard and you feel sharp all over. Like hell are you letting anyone get a look at you with cracks in your armor. Appearances are important.
You leave your hive locked and your security systems set against anyone who'd dare try to sneak in while you're gone. You check three times that everything is perfect before you climb on the back of your lusus and head across the water. You don't wish that you didn't have to because that's stupid wiggler shit and upright unrealistic of you: you've got enemies; of course you've got to defend yourself. Instead of worrying about something you can't control you focus on the FLARP battle you’re heading into and if you fiddle with your rings in nervousness while you think, well there's no one around to notice. You hope like hell that Sol shows up. Captor fucking owes you and you called in the favor, but you called it in without being sure if he'd actually hold to it. The pissblood spent too much of his time whining about his life and moping around, when he wasn't on some sort of coding bender and trolling you at three in the afternoon, incoherent on sugar and his own sense of self importance. Ugh, you can't let yourself get worked up over this. If he doesn't show it'll be just you against the other team, two against one, and you could handle that easily enough if you were playing properly, but you've let everyone talk you down to non lethal rules and that means you're at a double handicap. It's getting harder and harder to find trolls who will play regular FLARP rules with you anyway - your reputation is getting around - and it's upright impossible to find a partner who's actually worth the effort these days. You miss Vriska at times like this the most.
You're early, of course, because even if you know the location already, even if you've had campaigns there before it is always the smart thing to do, making sure nothing has been trapped or sabotaged and memorizing any changes. Some older trolls once rigged one of your forts with explosives and you and Vriska only got out because they'd set the things to a timer instead of having proximity. There is nothing set to explode on your current base, which is actually a sad pile of rocks but it's not like you need anything fancier (and you don't build anything lasting these days). Sollux shows up at one and you don't let him see you're surprised. The other team shows up and you can already tell the teal lost her regular partner, because the greenblood is new and reeks of nervousness. They get a sneer. "About fuckin' time you showed up."
The teal sneers right back "It's not my fault you can't tell time," as if that's any excuse. Her partner is looking more and more green in the face and neck and you hope like hell his friend told him their forfeit. The both of them are decked out like carnival attractions, wigglers pretending to be adults and trying too hard. The paint on the teal would have been a nice touch if it had been tattoos instead, a show of perseverance that she’d sit through that much pain for the markings. As it is the swirls down her arms are just tacky, but you don’t bother wasting your time pointing that out.
There's the usual posturing and you point out your base so they know where to find you. Most trolls think you're crazy when you do this but as much as you enjoyed FLARPing it's becoming more and more like work, and you don't want to spend the whole night waiting for them to find you. And this way you feel a bit better when people accuse you of cheating. You don't cheat, you even start with a handicap. Lots of handicaps, these days. And the survivors know it, too.
They've got an hour to find and set up their base and flag. You introduce Sollux as your partner but all he does is glare, sitting on the highest point and slumping like he's bored already. Well tough for him, you've got a game to win. You stalk the perimeter while he stares at his phone and try not to get too pissed off that he's pointedly ignoring you. You just needed a body to watch the base while you went off to capture theirs, he doesn't have to do much and if you could cull and stuff him and have the same effect right now, well, that isn't going to win you any friends. All he had to do was show up. That's all you expected out of him anyway, it isn't like he's going to actually try.
(If you're personally offended by his outright disdain, you hide it well because why the hell would you care about the opinion of a pissblood self-centered apathetic troll who doesn't know anything anyway? You absolutely don't care, is what.)
You signal to Sollux that you're going to sweep further out, not that he cares but you've learned the signals for a reason and you'll be damned if you don't keep them sharp. You're out of sight for less than an hour, maybe thirty minutes all told, no sign of the other team doing the stupid thing some groups do which is forgo their own base and think that they can just sneak up on yours because theirs is 'too well hidden'. You come out from the treeline and into the clearing where your fort is, well was, and you stare long and hard at the construction that's completely absorbed it.
He built. A fort. An honest to Gl’bgolyb fort.
You can see him smirking down at you and you know you looked shocked and impressed but you are and it's going to take a minute for that to wear off, which happens in the time it takes you to cross the clearing to the new building and realize he's made it completely impossible to get in. There are no doors. And now you're a terrible mixture of impressed and furious, and you shout at him until he lifts you up with his powers and deposits you inside. You stare upwards.
"There are floors," and you can't hide the wonder in your voice. Captor did this in thirty minutes. In half an hour he built a base it would take a dozen trolls to overrun, and they'd have to have some major strength or psychics on their side. He built something out of absolutely nothing and he's standing there as if it doesn't mean a thing.
"Hell yes there are floors. We can collapse the stairs if we need a last stand," he lisps and chuckles behind you, the glow of his powers mixing with the light of Ahab's crosshairs and turning the gloom of the stone walls into something unAlternian.
You stop and stare at him. He doesn't get it, of course he doesn't get it, he spends his nights locked away in his hive playing with computers and, if you believe Karkat, trying to hack into some pretty fucking secure servers, but he doesn't get out. He doesn't FLARP and he's a pissblood psychic who knows what will happen to him come ascension if Feferi doesn't take the throne.
He probably thinks this is all a game.
He slouches, arms crossed defensively like he can tell you're about to growl so you don't. You're pretty proud at how even your voice comes out when you say his name, "Sol..."
His shoulders hunch a little more, his eyes flash in defiance. Even without pupils you can still read them, he's got a stupidly expressive face even if you usually want to punch it. "Can it, ED. AA told me to have fun, so I'm having fun."
“You coulda said no,” you point out, still even and reasonable. It probably says something that Megido told him to go and have fun, probably while you were away scouting. Too late you realize you left that wide open for an attack, the still too weak spot in your armor and so you're surprised as all hell when he doesn't rub your fins in the fact he has a moirail.
"Yeah, but I didn't," is what he says instead. He pushes you, not hard, not an insult. Just towards the top of the stairs. Sometimes you don't know what to make of him. "Move your glutes, ED, before the other team murders us."
ED. Huh. When was the last time he bothered calling you by nickname instead of insult?
Sabotaging their base is straightforward enough, even if it would be easier to just blow it up and kill them both now. You try to think of this as a tactical exercise instead, a mission where casualties will result in a failure and you can't trust any troll under your command to understand the subtleties of 'don't fuckin cull anyone'. Ahab's crosshairs is useful as a drill when the power's low enough, so you keep out of line of sight and carefully tunnel your way under their base, far enough the explosion will be muted. They'll feel the shake, know it was you, and if they're smart they're realize you could have killed them right then and there, and hopefully they'll spook into being stupid. Either that or you'll force them into taking this seriously enough to come after you direct.
You're more than a bit smug when you return to your fort, and you wait for Sollux to ask you where you were while you adjust your cloak and brush some wayward dirt off your shoulder. You don't have a mirror handy, but you're pretty sure you're cutting an imposing figure of a troll.
"Did you bribe the greenblood, or what?" he asks, and it startles a smile out of you.
"Sol, I didn't take you for a tactician." You'd considered bribing him, actually. The problem was bribes worked best when trolls were on their own, and you hadn't caught him leaving the teal's side. The bomb was faster. You're pretty proud of how neatly you'd done it. “No, I didn’t bribe him. I decided to pull a covert mission an’ disable their base.”
With perfect timing, the bomb explodes. You'd set it so you'd be at the base with Sollux before it went, so he wouldn't panic. You feel more than a little proud as you turn to explain it to Sollux, but he doesn't let you get a word out. He shakes you, hard, almost spitting in anger before he's flown right out of your fort. If he hears you call after him, he ignores you.
You're angry.
You're furious, really. You'd said no casualties. You'd given your word and you'd meant it and if you hadn't been playing by these stupid rules you'd be done already and G'lyblob would be fed and you could go back to your hive and your books and you wouldn't be playing with the bipolar troll who keeps giving you mixed signals you know are all in your own head anyway. You'd specifically not killed anyone.
He could have at least stayed long enough for you to properly explain. You take a deep breath, give up and curse for a long moment until you feel better, and then take another breath and pull out your palmtop.
-- caligulasAquarium [CA] has started trolling twinArmageddons [TA] --
CA: sol you blitherin idiot
CA: i fuckin said disable their base an i meant it
CA: i used ahabs to drill dowwn an buried the bomb
CA: the most it wwould a done is givve them a scare an maybe knocked ovver some shit
CA: noww get your fuckin ass back dowwn here an help me prepare before i cull someone for real
CA: god you fuckin lowwbloods i swwear
-- caligulasAquarium [CA] has ceased trolling twinArmageddons [TA] --
You're waiting when he touches down and you expect his little outburst, damn lowbloods and their hysterics. He's sparking and not even listening as you try to patiently explain that no, you couldn't have killed someone with that explosion, you were annoyingly careful about that. Instead of calming down he just gets more wound up, sparks brighter and eyes glowing as he reminds you about Tavros and Vriska and Aradia and Terezi and how everything went wrong like it was somehow your fault!. You're seriously debating on just punching him to shut him up, or maybe snapping and telling him exactly where he can take his misplaced worry about trolls he doesn't even know when he rips off your cape.
He rips off your cape and he sneers as much as he rages, in your face as he proclaims "You want to start it all again because you can't get over your little power fantasy and you don't care about anyone half as much as you care about yourself."
You have a temper. Most highbloods do. When you get angry you usually explode in a messy way. Feferi used to find you sometimes patching a hole in your ship, or when you were really young and stupid, your knuckles because you hadn't realized that hitting things while wearing rings would hurt. A moment ago you wanted to punt Captor right off the side of the fort and not watch him hit bottom on the spikes. Now?
Now you just feel cold.
You snatch your cape back. It's just a symbol, just a bit of fashion and a bit of intimidation. Impressions are important. You're still wiggler thin and it helps you look heavier, bigger. It moves when you do, making you look more sophisticated and mature. It lets you flourish when you need to make a point, lets you stalk down your targets in a way that is far better looking that stalking without a cape could ever manage. It's just a symbol, though. And you guess here and now it's just more proof to Captor that you're the same lovesick troll Feferi dumped sweeps ago because no matter how hard you tried you weren't good enough for her and she just couldn't accept you as any of her quadrants. Sweeps of working your fins off and he doesn't even know, or if he does he doesn't care. It isn't like a troll can learn somefin from his mistakes, is it?
You tear the cape in two and don't feel a thing. "Don't you fuckin' presume," and your voice is shaking with rage. You haven't wanted to hurt someone so badly in a very long time. "Don't you fuckin' dare presume what my reasons for doin' this are, Captor." You throw the cape at your feet, but it isn't enough. You want to smash things. You want to hurt someone, anyone, but hurting Sollux would get you culled faster than walking unarmed down the blueblood sector would. You try for words instead. "Not carin' about anythin' is your problem, not mine."
Words don't have the effect you were aiming for. Instead of recoiling, or maybe laying you out, or storming off in a fury, Captor just stands there and stares at you and you can almost hear the hives buzzing in his head as he thinks, something you'd given up on him actually managing today.
“FF?” he finally asks, in a way that's almost insulting, how soft it is.
You scrub at your eyes. You wish it was Feferi. Well, it is for her, but not for her. It's because she asked you and she trusts you and she'll one day be empress and you want that to happen, want that with all your heart and you hope that maybe if you do help, if you get her there and make her dreams a reality, maybe one day you will be good enough for her. Until then you're doing what's needful, because it isn't like anyone else is qualified for the work.
“Gl’bgolyb,” you answer. "We’re nearin’ Ascension, there ain’t anyone else Fef can trust to feed her who wants the job. An’ someone has to keep all a’ you alive.” At least you're not angry anymore. Talking about Fef usually does that.
"So their lusii are forfeit?"
You're glad he's finally worked it out, but you hope this doesn't become a mess of how horrible a troll you are for killing other troll's lusii. At least the trolls these days know what they're getting into. FLARPers agree to the terms in exchange for the chance to win a respectable amount of gold out of you - enough to buy passage on a good ship, when Ascension comes, or to make sure their moirail or matesprit doesn't end up enslaved - or they can at least buy them back right away.
You really don't want to deal with this right now. “Yeah, an’ if you’re goin’ to bitch at me about that, you can shove it, Sol, I ain’t got time to soothe your fragile fuckin’ feelin’s.”
You can see the exact moment he puts it together and goes even paler than his usual sallow grey. Before he can even ask you huff in disdain, “I put in a bunch a’ jewellery instead, I ain’t fuckin’ heartless.” Like you'd have signed a troll up to lose his lusii without warning. Fuck if you're that messed up.
And you're grateful that that... seems to be that. Sol hands you your cape and tells you to get it fixed, like he maybe understands it all now and you try not to make a fish face at him because one, fucking mixed signals no he's just being friendly and you totally wanted to kill him like, three minutes ago and two, he's all 'lets kill them before they kill us' and you'd honestly expected some sort of moral argument somewhere.
Gl’bgolyb needs feeding, and you both know it. And now you're going to have a real partner, if only for what's left of the game, and you're trying hard not to let that go to your head.
The greenblood is almost too easy to catch and you don't let yourself think about that much as you deposit him at Sol's feet. If he's ever played FLARP before it wasn't recent or serious and you don't have time or room for pity for any idiot who goes against you and your reputation no matter how much gold you wave under their noses. He tells you where his partner is hiding and you flush her out of a hollow tree and have to fight her every step of the way back to the fort, the way she carries on. Sure she's going to be upset about losing her lusus but she made the deal, and it could be a lot worse. When you played with Vris, everything was forfeit. She doesn't calm down when you suggest she could be fed to spidermom instead, which you think is absolutely shameful. Not that it was a real threat - Vriska and Terezi took care of her lusus sweeps ago.
The green is crying, proper silent tears you aren't even sure he's realized and you can see it's getting to Sol, and he'd probably forgive you but when? You hate that you really want to keep his respect now that you think you might have it. So you decide to take things easy and leave the green with him, while you and the teal - you still don't know her name, don't really care either - take a nice walk to her hive to say goodbye to her lusus.
You are absolutely hiding any and all need to wince as you return to the fort, climbing up the stairs Sol's made for you in your absence now that it doesn't need to be quite so defensible. You'd expected the teal to fight back. You hadn't expected her matesprit to be at the hive as well, and you're not exactly an expert at close combat. Still, they'll probably survive, if they get out from the debris of the hive before sunrise, and you'd dropped her great horned clawbeast lusus into the ocean on the way back, where Feferi was waiting to take it down. She'd smiled at you, you were pretty sure, though with the light of the moons on the water it was hard to see for certain.
The green is gone when you find Sollux, and you don't even pretend to be surprised. He looks at you like he's waiting for you to explode and you don't even bother to glare, sagging down against the surprisingly smooth wall and letting the cool from the stones inch through your back. You're tired, which is beyond stupid because half the night hasn't gone by. You're lucky you didn't plan two sessions for the evening or you'd have to forfeit the second outright and you'd look like a coward and an idiot doing that. You close your eyes, and since Sol is clearly waiting for you to say something you break the silence. “Figured you’d tell him to piss off."
You hear him sit down beside you, and he's so warm that you can feel his heat even when he's inches away. You could use a little of that warmth right now, maybe it would help your aching head and ribs. That's totally why you slide sideways and end up with your head in his lap. It's both uncomfortable and the most comfortable you've been in ages.
"Why didn't you stop me?" he asks instead of suggesting you go to hell or shoving you onto the stone floor. You take that as a win and invitation to stay where you are.
You try to shrug but that makes the hurt a lot more noticeable. "You saved me the trouble a' lookin like a sap," you admit, surprising yourself. "'Preciate the help, Captor."
Things are wonderfully quiet for a long while and you think you could actually sleep like this, if you weren't worried at least a little bit about when Sol's going to change his mind and kick you away. It's nice though, in a fucked up way. More mixed signals you're trying hard to shove far far away because there isn't one of your friends who wants to be seen near your quadrants, you've had that explained to you more times than you want to admit. Still, your brain wonders.
When he sighs and declares that this - and you assume he means the FLARP session and culling lusii and crying greenbloods and not, say, you in his lap - is hoofbeastshit, you crack your eyes and look up at him. The light makes him look older, here, worn out and too thin. You wonder if he's been eating enough and you get the terrible, deadly thought to scold Megido for not looking after him properly.
"This is hoofbeastshit," he repeats, as if he's daring you to argue.
"I don't disagree," and you surprise him, you know, as he looks down and stares at you. You're making enemies everywhere these days and because you're no longer killing trolls that means some of them will survive to hold a grudge when you Ascend, assuming they manage to get that far. When you think about Sollux and Ascension in the same thought your mind skips a bit because even if Feferi does succeed how likely are you as a race going to be able to give up FTL transport? You think of Sollux as a Helmsman and then blink the image away. He's still staring down at you and when you reach up, slow and cautious, he doesn't pull away, not even when you brush a thumb across his chapped lips.
Then you take all the careful warnings from Karkat and Nepeta and your own self and tell them to go to hell because Sollux isn't pushing you away and you don't have time to think anymore, you just lean up and kiss him, and he wraps his arms around your back and kisses you and it doesn't matter that the position is hurting your chest something awful, this is fucking perfect.
When you pull away he lets you go and you try not to be disappointed. You try not to read too much into it. A kiss might have just been a kiss, you can't get in over your head, not now. You meet his eyes, firm and certain. “We gotta get Fef on the throne." And you mean it, you have to, because if you don't she dies and you are certain a part of you will die with her. “Otherwise all a’ this fuckery is gonna be nothin’.”
“You’ve got plans?” he asks, and his eyes start to glow.
“I got plans,” you return, because of course you've got plans, you were hatched with plans, you have been doing nothing but work on plans for fuckin sweeps. It's not an insult when he asks though, you just feel like you ought to maybe brag.
And then you stop thinking quite so clear because his warm hand has slid up under your shirt and is resting on your stomach and he's leaning in on your space, just a little, and a kiss might just be a kiss but this is pretty damned legit.
"So do I," he says, and you admire how he looks with a fierce little smile on his lips, even over all those mangled teeth, and the way his eyes glow.
You grin back, full teeth sharp and pointed and feeling like maybe this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship and the empire isn't going to know what hit it. "Good," is all you say though. That's enough, for now.