[PRP]Taking Sides [Zeylla+Sinter]

[artificial bones]

This conversation is...informative, to say the least...
lakeside in four fronds

 

[artificial bones]

It was early in the night, and Zeylla found herself once again escaping life at the hive for the peaceful town of Four Fronds. today the water was calling her, and she had slipped off her boots, with her sock neatly folded and placed inside, and let her feet dangle over the edge of a small public(she at least believed it was public) dock. The water tickled her toes, and felt cool and relaxing. Her jacket was also off, revealing her plain black undershirt, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. While it was still slightly less than warm out, she felt fine and tilted her head back to stare skywards and think.

So many struggles as of late. She found herself constantly thinking, but never quiet sure what she was thinking off. It was like she was coming to some realization but had yet to actually figure out what she was realizing. Something just felt missing, like she was not fully whole. Which was silly, she had never felt like this before so why was she now? Why was life with Leechmom and her rituals and rules so difficult? What was she missing that she needed.

She thought of Bellen, of the rehab center and how the other greyblood had expressed her want to help other trolls. It made Zeylla's cold bloodpump warm to think about, but also made her feel odd. Was that what she wanted? To help other trolls? She had never felt that way before, actually she had always been fine with just leaving others to their own problems.

But as of late...

She just wasn't sure any more. A loud sigh fell from Zeylla's lips and she kicked the water with a glint of frustration in her eye. Why was life becoming so...confusing as of late?

"So...confusing," she spoke out loud to the lake, to the air, to no one in particular. Just...to say it.

seekingCylem

 

[seekingCylem]

With how thoroughly Sinter had been splitting his time between Civisect and Four Fronds over the past sweeps, he would have thought he'd eventually be able to adjust to the more temperate climates of Alternia. Unfortunately Sinter was a desert native through and through. The breeze drifting off the water of Four Fronds was positively cutting despite the number of layers he wore.

After an embarrassing misread of the train schedule, Sinter had arrived in Four Fronds for his sponsorship meeting painfully early. It would be at least a couple hours before Ganyma would even be back at his hive. Sinter wasn't about to spend that time hovering around the front door like an anxious barkbeast.

Killing time wasn't a common occurrence for Sinter who was usually so meticulous in the planning of his nights. His idle wandering had brought him to the Four Fronds waterfront. It was picturesque, especially for a troll so used to an arid climate. Sinter found it hard not to stare out at the glittering water, despite his discomfort.

Sinter shifted his weight as he stood along the beach. He looked down as he dislodged a few rocks, thoughtfully regarding their smooth shapes. He'd seen people do it in movies...

Sinter picked up a particularly round stone and palmed it. He looked from his hand to out across the water. With a tiny smile, Sinter pulled his hand back and whipped the stone at the lake.

The stone broke the water with a messy splash rather than the dainty skipping Sinter had intended. He looked dismayed with his obvious failure, followed by startled, and then sheepish when he realized he hadn't been alone at the lakeside.

"S-Sorry!" He called, voice fluctuating as the distance made him unsure whether it would be more practical to speak normally or shout. "If I splashed you, that is..."

stringency

 

[artificial bones]

Zeylla's thoughts had become no less clear, no less confusing when suddenly she was jerked back to reality by a rather sudden splash near her. The water barely touched her, but it had definitely shocked her. Eyes wide and in a show of rare surprise, quickly scanned from water to shore to find what had caused such an interruption her contemplation.

She didn't have to look far, for the culprit was already apologizing. A redblood, looking like he was slightly unsure of himself-or perhaps just the situation-, called out to her,
" S-Sorry!"

She waved off the apology, "No worries," she called back, the wind carrying her words as it blustered ever so slightly(it would perhaps be time to put her coat back on). On some days, Zeylla might still be angry, or at least irritated, by an interruption from her thoughts, but she was thankful today. Her thoughts were heavy as of late, an hard for her to work through. A break from them was a blessing.

Perhaps that's why she added, "Are you waiting...for someone? You look like you are waiting...for something," it was definitely outside her norm to strike up conversation, but today was just turning out to be an unusual day.

seekingCylem

 

[seekingCylem]

Sinter had in all honesty expected to have gotten shooed off. He'd at least anticipated some kind of yelp or raised voice. Zeylla's chill demeanor carried over to Sinter, who calmed despite his residual embarrassment. The current exchange was impromptu and a little odd, but Sinter closed the distance so as to continue the conversation more comfortably. His footsteps crunched along the gravely beach until he stood near the base of the dock Zeylla sat on.

"Ah, yes I'm afraid. I have an engagement later this evening, but the train from Chittentown got me here far too early, so I've been left to kill time. I suppose there are worse mistakes to make." Sinter added the last bit with a self-conscious chuckle and shifted his weight.

"And you..? Oh, I'm sorry. My name is Sinter by the way, Sinter Heilig. Are you waiting for something as well? Not that I would blame you for just enjoying the scenery. It's very beautiful out here."

stringency

 

[artificial bones]

Zeylla was terrible with socializing. The time she spent over the majority of the last few sweeps had been with minimal troll contact. Things like greetings, ice breakers, or even being polite and not prying, seemed to just fly over her head. So when Sinter explained he had an engagement, her mind went right to 'Where at in town? For what? What kind of engagement?'

"What kind of engag-- ah, uhm," She was so interested in this little nugget of information(and distraction) that she started to talk just as Sinter did, and she had to stop and let him finish. If she was a troll who embarrassed easily, she would have been flush with it, but instead she just felt a moment of 'ah yes, that's how conversations start,' and nodded ever so slightly, "Ah, yes, I am Zeylla, Zeylla Crypsi. And no, I'm just, well-," she paused, because she didn't want to talk about the fact that she was struggling. Zeylla didn't struggle, it just wasn't normal for her, "enjoying the scenery, yes. I live near by and I enjoy the water sometimes," as she spoke she reached back and grabbed her over coat, as she felt unusually vulnerable around other trolls without her full garb.

She slipped it back on and carefully buttoned it, brushing the wrinkles from the front, so her symbol was clear and visible before finishing with her original, far from socially acceptable, but all Zeylla approved, question, "What is your engagement?"

seekingCylem

she is so terribly rude i am sorry for her.

 

[seekingCylem]

Sinter became more comfortable as the conversation progressed. Sympathy to Zeylla's social discomfort offset Sinter's own and he allowed himself to adopt a gentler expression. "It's nice to meet you," he replied politely. If he was caught off-guard by Zeylla's direct line of questioning, Sinter didn't show it. If anything he found the topic easier to discuss than reaching through the grab bag of standard small talk themes. He chuckled airily.

"I'm actually a volunteer sponsor for the Civisect Rehabilitation and Counseling Center. I have a standing appointment with my sponsored party here in Four Fronds since his graduation from the rehabilitation program proper."

Sinter sighed uneasily. "And yet I still somehow seem to have trouble managing a simple timetable. These are hardly flattering circumstances under which to be giving my job description... I promise I'm quite competent." Sinter smiled weakly.

stringency

 

[artificial bones]

"Better to be too early than to be too late," Zeylla responded as Sinter finished speaking. She found her curiosity piqued by his mention of the rehabilitation center, her memories going back to Bellen, the other greyblood she had met on her first time in there. She found herself thinking, 'This is another troll that wants to change things, help others,' but she wondered, what rehabilitation was he helping this troll with?She thought of asking, but decided to wait a moment.

"I have been there before," she nodded, then shook her head, finishing, "But not for the program. I was...being chased by some trolls, and hid there for a bit," her face darkened slightly at the memory of those bluebloods threats and taunts as they had chased her down. All because of bloodcolor(or in her case, the lack of).

Some times she wished all trolls were hemoanonymous, because then perhaps there wouldn't be problem. If one can't see it, then it can cause no issue.

seekingCylem

 

[seekingCylem]

"True, true," Sinter agreed. In all honesty his embarrassment over the mistake was mild. He wouldn't have been nearly as forthcoming with the story had he been several hours late to an event. At least this was a foolishness that maintained Sinter's reputation of strong work ethic. The likelihood Sinter's current conversation partner cared about such minutiae was minimal, but--true to form--it was a level to the exchange Sinter would consider, whether he wanted to or not.

Sinter perked attentively at Zeylla's own mention of the Rehabilitation Center. His expression quickly turned disturbed as she continued. "I- I'm sorry, chased?" He balked. Zeylla was proving to be a difficultly-read troll under normal circumstances, but this was a severe statement to be mentioning anecdotally. There was also the matter of Civisect's reputation as a high-class city of the future. Violence tended to be relegated to sporting events and law enforcement.

The brief idea of being chased by paparazzi crossed Sinter's mind and he almost laughed. However the idea of a celebrity going hemoanonymous in public outings seemed like too reasonable of an idea to discredit entirely. Sinter looked up at Zeylla expectantly.

stringency

 

[artificial bones]

Zeylla raised a brow at Sinter. The redblood was very worried suddenly, his face saying how shocked he was by her statement. Perhaps all the time spent over the last sweeps had limited her knowledge of Alternia more then she had perceived. Was it not normal still for trolls to be less then friendly(sometimes) with those of lower (or in her case, unknown) blood caste? He was redblooded, he should be aware of the unfairness and unkindness shown to the lower castes.

But she couldn't let him worry about it, and said in her most calm, non-worried voice, "It was nothing, just some highbloods who wanted to know where I stood, bloodwise," she shrugged, as if the push the matter off her shoulders and out of the conversation, "It worked out though, I met a good troll out of it, and also find myself forming new opinions of certain parts of our society," which was true. Over the last few weeks since that moment, Zeylla had been becoming more aware of the struggle of caste and color. Trolls treated like fodder, or like royalty based solely on blood color; some disrespected, others entitled. She could feel it wasn't right, just like she could feel something was not right with Leechmom. Zeylla just had a good feel for these things. Her eyes drifted from Sinter to the water and she sighed.

"It just seems, sometimes things are not as good as they seem," Zeylla added with the smallest of frowns, her eyes shifting from the lake to her conversation partner.

Maybe she was getting too deep, too personal, but Zeylla also wasn't one to notice that her social skills were far, far from perfect and normal.

seekingCylem

 

[seekingCylem]

Zeylla seemed surprised by Sinter's surprise, which hardly helped put his mind at ease. He quirked an eyebrow at her explanation. Sinter personally didn't have much experience with hemoanonymity. It was a lost cause with regards to his own person at the very least. In retrospect he supposed a troll with a gray symbol was a more acceptable target as an individual foregoing the norm. Redbloods like himself were a beetle a dozen. He may have been the bottom rung on the hemospectrum, but there was hardly glory or even a challenge to be had in kicking someone while they were down. That said, common sense said a hemoanonymous troll would more likely be a lowblood than any other color. The perpetrators were likely seeking the thrill of "putting someone in their place." Via violence, of course. Low risk with a high yield of self-righteousness. Sinter felt his surprise fade to dull, familiar irritation.

"Ah- Aha!" Sinter laughed before he could stop himself. He slapped a hand over his mouth. Sinter visibly debated whether to own up to his exclamation or smooth it over. Awkwardly, he attempted both.

"I... Forgive me, um, I don't mean to be rude but that phrasing... The sentiment strikes me as... obvious? I'm probably misunderstanding your intent." Sinter crossed his arms and tilted his head, the picture of thoughtfulness. Blood status was a topic as difficult to discuss in polite company as it was painfully inescapable. He was, however, genuinely curious as to what about it Zeylla could have ever considered to "seem good."

stringency

 

[artificial bones]

A confused, slightly irritated look crossed Zeylla's face for a moment as Sinter laughed, but it quickly faded as he continued to speak. She could forgive rudeness when it was followed up politely, and if anything else, the troll before her was just that. She sighed and scratched at the back of her head, face shifting again to one of slight befuddlement, but this time because she was finding herself at a rare loss of words.

Usually Zeylla was one who knew exactly what she meant and how she meant it, but she spent so little time, until recently, truly taking the time to be aware of her world. Before it had been so simple to just blatantly blow of most normal issues, her mind comfortable with living a life in the forest, self-sustaining and ignoring the troubles of life. But now, so recently, she found herself wondering more and more about things going on around her. Involving herself. If she hid her bloodcolor, she was chased, insulted and thought to be a coward by some, but if she chose to be like most and reveal her blueblood to the world, she would be respected by most and have an easier life. And part of her was asking, over and over in her head. How is that fair? Even though she knew life was just that, unfair. Did that mean it had to be that way?

Not that she could reveal all of that to Sinter. She had rules to follow, and her color was a secret that was sacred to part of herself. Which was another reason she found it difficult to explain.

"I just find it...ridiculous to expect that because of a bloodcolor, or lack there of, we are expected to treat and be treated in certain ways, imagine if there was no distinguishable difference between any two trolls based on color," and because Zeylla felt that perhaps Sinter deserved a little more insight, she added, "I have spent...a large part of my life very unaware of most normal society, and I can't help but feel...feel it's all wrong, and perhaps we need change."

seekingCylem

 

[seekingCylem]

Sinter kept an even expression as Zeylla explained herself. He had no idea what sort of life Zeylla led. Her hemoanonymity gave him even less information to work from than the average stranger. He supposed he could deduce from her present demeanor--thoughtful, guarded--that her upbringing had been strict, regardless of which caste she was meant to fit into. Sinter supposed he understood that much. The restrictions of his childhood were placed upon him by society more so than his home life. Based on Zeylla's admission of a sheltered childhood, Sinter guessed her struggles were more insular in nature.

"That is... Rather difficult to imagine, I admit," Sinter began. The hemospectrum was... well the hemosepctrum was blood. It was the reason for life, both metaphorically and literally, for better and for worse. If blood wasn't a factor, what kind of person would Sinter be? He'd be lying if he hadn't thought along a similar line at least once. This was the first time the exercise wasn't made of purely self-indulgent fantasies of wealth and status. His red blood was such a powerful undercurrent in Sinter's life. Would he be just as diligent? Kind? High-strung? Truthfully many of his qualities stemmed from the overhanging threat of what could befall an incompetent lowblood. Of course that was a terrible way to live, but what came of it... Sinter thought of all he'd worked for. He had his professional life. He had his loved ones. Would he still have that if life had turned out different for him? Would it have meant as much?

"You're not wrong, I don't believe..." Sinter finally acquiesced, "It's a difficult topic to broach, however. Not many people want to see a problem in the first place. For many it's because change would only make their lives more difficult. For most I think it's because the problem is simply too big. It's overwhelming. It's easier just to ignore it... Or focus on ways to improve one's own life. Save the large-scale issues for someone else."

Sinter spoke with the resigned melancholy of someone who'd discussed the issue at length. Still, he cast a cautious look over at Zeylla. "What sort of changes would you have in mind?"

stringency

 

[artificial bones]

"What sort of changes would you have in mind?"

The way Sinter spoke, Zeylla noted, was less enthused. This was a tough subject, she was realizing, for most trolls. A small niggling that may have been the beginning of guilt tickled the back of her think pan. But she was enjoying the conversation, so she continued on as carefully as she could. She didn't want to ruin a moment where she could speak intellectually, and peacefully.

"I would...I would just prefer we look at each other for the skills and abilities we have, not the color we bleed. Each troll has something, something in them that can benefit the whole, and we should work as one, not in a world where some only do things out of fear, or power," she hoped that was clear, because it was hard for her to explain. Zeylla touched her face and sighed, "The power has to be shared, in the end. No highbloods, no lowbloods."

It would just make more sense, instead of instilling fear in the masses and giving power to the few, to give everyone and chance to prove themselves on the same level. No being born lucky enough for one life, or unlucky enough for another.

seekingCylem

 

[seekingCylem]

Sinter hummed in thought. "That certainly is the ideal." Sinter sighed and for once, broke his perfect posture to roll his shoulders. The solemn atmosphere was doing a number on him. The gravel crunched under his feet as he took turns flexing his legs.

"I feel like only the most bull-headed highbloods would have a problem with such a scenario, at least on paper. A world in which societal power is given based on competence and ability... The... problem with the solution as it were... is in the execution."

Sinter's expression had shifted into a thoughtfulness of a different flavor. He was pensive. He examined the surface of the lake without truly looking at it. "What do you know about Civisect City?" He spoke without looking directly at Zeylla, but it was apparent he was monitoring her reaction carefully

stringency