mental link, day 22

[sizeofyourbaggage]

( Got some information for you guys - Annie was good enough to get some of her makeshift spycams going, and we set ‘em up with the leaders of the envoys. Activated them last night. )

[ There’s a curl of gratitude for those who went along with his plan, for those who spun stories or distractions or contributed to convincing the leaders of the envoys that the trinkets of Annie goo were part of a mourning ritual. Is he gonna talk about the fact that he basically disappeared after that until they boarded the airship? Nah. Instead, he jumps right into it. ]

( Didn’t get a lot from the Carpathans or the Meradans, unless you wanna know what the inside of Saridian Black’s room looks like or what other gifts people’ve been giving him, or see more of the Meradans trash talking each other while playing games.

Got the same Second that Annie saw last time, who’s friends with the Seconds I know, and this time he was with Ysiddia Cabrielle. He’s her son, and they were talking with a Second from one of the other Houses about the murders and the Circle having its work cut out for it when we get to the Red Coast.

And the Descendents - pretty sure we got a couple of them talking about the murders. They were wondering if “they” were discovered, who discovered them and what their intentions were - might have something to do with the last time we spied on people through Annie, and she saw the Carpathans that got killed talking about new friends. That, and blood debts and someone named Casiria, and that no one in Black’s retinue could know about it. Didn’t know this until a little bit ago, but guess what information got passed onto Black’s retinue? )

[ His mental “tone” is deliberately neutral there, but the difference from the usual warmth to his mental link is probably pretty telling. ]

( One other thing, about the circle that was found burned in the ground a while back when we were still running around on the ground and the tracks next to it - Rhan said the circle doesn’t look local, but the tracks appear Rabadocean. Hard to pin down more than that so far, except they don’t really match the Hypyrians. )

[ Is he fixating on that a little too much, to be thinking about it still? Maybe, but he's not gonna let it go. ]

Comments

[wille]

( He's not a mouthpiece. )

[ Guarded. The cold, smooth surface of metal doors sealed shut to protect what fragile underbelly lying beneath it. She doesn't need him to know how the ultimatum affects her, if she refuses to even acknowledge it. But she isn't lying. ]

( Not a fuck-up. Annie found the two Carpathans plotting against Black to align with the Descendants using this Casiria as the go-between, one of them were hiding from him -- being found here may have been enough to get her killed. They joked about that, so they and we knew it was a possibility. I didn't expect Black to act so fast, and so crudely. )

[ So intentionally crude that it can only be a threat to those still living. ]

( They can't trace it back to us. We used one of the Hyrypian's bugs to deliver the note. Suspicion would fall to our hosts first. )

[aluminumandash]

[ He eases up, still taut with anger but less likely to snap. Less ready to turn his back on her. ] ( Alright. Let's hear your word for it. ) [ For Sam and whatever the fuck he's trying to do here, for whatever he is to her.

Rust's careful with the details, sorting the new information from the old. Prioritizing. ] ( It's them leading the investigation. ) [ A reminder, should she need one. Maybe Black destroyed it—the message, the bug—and then again maybe not. All Rust knows of the man is he's a killer. ]

( You're telling me there's nothing. You're sure. ) [ His focus is absolute. Yes or no. ]

[wille]

( I'm sure. )

[ She is nothing but the strength of her own conviction. He must know.

Where he eases back on his anger, she refuses to let down her guard yet. This is nothing but business, a conversation between cold and logical minds with no such thing as slights or treason to taint the air. There should be no possibility of them hurting each other. ]

( The question is, why kill them in full view of everyone? If it's about getting rid of them, this isn't it. I think it's as a threat to anyone who stands against Black, but also a warning to us. )

[aluminumandash]

[ Rust's satisfied with that—satisfied enough, at any rate, to stop thinking damage control and fix her with the whole of his attention.

What she's put between them, it's almost industrial. That dustless part of your mind adjacent to unconsciousness.

He doesn't lash out, doesn't inflict himself on it. He regards it—her—with intense, sustained scrutiny. ] ( Nah, Misato. The question is, was it worth it. To you. )

[wille]

[ Her first instinct is to retort, it's not about me, but only the outline of that thought makes it through. Rather her mind flips through reams of exhaustive reports, a catalogue of homes destroyed, the bodies broken, the dead, cold numbers. She tells herself this is nothing new. She tells herself the price is too often paid in advance, with the debt yet to be collected. ]

( I'll make sure it is. )

[aluminumandash]

[ The view from the other side of the desk: a clutter of trophies and plaudits, a buck's head grafted to the wall. Backsides of the obligatory family photos.

The self-congratulatory indifference as he hands over another smiling picture, this one paperclipped to an empty file. ] ( Fuck that. ) [ Crisp.

I didn't take you for— hovers between them, but like his frustration, long gone to rot, doesn't cohere. Nothing he can do except see her for who she is. ] ( You wanna rationalize this, you do it now. Two deaths, two people bleeding out in a sauna. Balance it out. )

[wille]

[ Her anger doesn't rise at his expletive, her temper reined back until the point he presents his order: balance it out. Hers is a spark to light the flame, brief and bright, a sharp lashing to the back of the neck with the thudding pain to follow later. How Catholic a punishment. ]

( Are you kidding me? I'm not gonna rationalize people dying, Rust. Fuck you. )

[ She bites back her next words though they slip, diced and shredded to near incomprehension: How like him and his countrymen to talk of rationalizing deaths, dropping bombs then explaining them away as the only way, how like them to castrate her nation then say it was for their own good. Her retreat is so swift that it sucks the air out of the room, and she speaks through gritted teeth, such heavy-handed control. ]

( I'm guilty. I made a mistake. There's no fixing what I did. But I will make it count for something. )