[PRP]Taking Sides [Zeylla+Sinter]

[artificial bones]

The way Sinter was watching her, waiting for her response, made Zeylla feel that there was something she was supposed to be saying. Something he was expecting to give him some sort of judgement of her character. Zeyll's lips twitched into a little frown again and she shrugged lightly.

Honestly, she knew very little about the city, besides that it was definitely not what she had experienced when she was younger. It was newer now, but things had obviously happened there while she had been holed away in the fronds. She did know there was a rebel group, a group that wanted to change the way Alternia worked, but she knew little beyond that they fought those that followed the queen.

"I know things happened there, but not details...and I have heard of a rebel group, but little beyond that that is what they are," she spoke honestly, though she did not add that she was curious to know more of the rebels. Some how, she felt that would be too much given right now. She wasn't on any side as of yet, and would be careful not to label herself for other trolls yet.

seekingCylem

 

[seekingCylem]

Sinter hummed in acknowledgment of Zeylla's answer. "You know more than most, then. Not many people paid attention to Old Hemisect while it was still around. The official story is something about discontent from the locals resulting in sabotage against the construction drones."

Sinter spoke in a dull tone that made it blindingly apparent what he thought of "the official story." It had been sweeps since the incident in question. He'd only been a child at the time. While he'd never assumed he'd forget what had happened, he was surprised by how clearly he still remembered those nights.

"It did start that way," he relented briefly, "But 'discontent from the locals,' doesn't warrant a military air strike." If Sinter had been any less of a civilized troll he would have spat. Already he was becoming agitated with the memory.

"They called themselves the Phoenix Initiative--this particular group of rebels. Truthfully not the most extreme of ideologies. Similar to what you just described. There are... good trolls that have taken up their cause at one time or another. Somehow that just makes the whole situation worse in retrospect. They saw opportunity in the Old Hemisect reconstruction efforts: to expose the injustices in the government's re-homing policies." Sinter took a moment to breathe deeply and pinch the bridge of his nose.

"They demolished half of the city all on their own. All of us involved still refer to it as 'The Battle of Old Hemisect,' not whatever soft diplomatic term the papers dubbed it. Both sides were building veritable fortresses from the remaining hives and blowing each other up. All that and you can see how well it things turned out for the rebel cause. We have Civisect and a body count."

Sinter recomposed himself, or at least he removed his hand from his face.

"Good intentions don't mean much in the face of poor execution. Unfortunately the Phoenix Initiative has been the face of rebel activity for sweeps now. I'm not sure it gets much 'better' than them."

stringency

 

[artificial bones]

Zeylla watched carefully the way Sinter's face shifted and changed as he spoke. It was obvious this was a sore spot for him, and that he saw much strife and chaos in all that had happened. She also saw that he did not look at these rebels in the same light as her. And yet, she could almost understand where he came from. It was just violence begetting violence. How did helping blow up the city help any of the trolls who were, in a term that made her uncomfortable, re-homed.

But at the same time, sometimes violence can be a useful tool. Perhaps their execution had not been the best, but that didn't mean give up in Zeyllas book. That meant try harder next time, do better next time.

"Maybe they just need new direction; new inspiration and they could lead us to a better world? I know they have perhaps not done well in the past, but why give up when you have even the slightest chance to make a difference," she said tentatively, with a hint of question. Because as she said it she believed it to be true. With the right push in the right direction the rebel cause could go from a struggling, destructive faction to something more. Something that could mean something to the average troll, something besides fear and anger.

seekingCylem

 

[seekingCylem]

Sinter was giving Zeylla a searching look. He was eager, or perhaps even a little desperate to see if she had taken any of what he'd said to heart. Sinter never had the most confidence in his ability to speak convincingly. Unassuming blood color aside, he did have the poor tendency to stutter himself across multiple tangents.

The frown Zeylla's words put on his face was more from thoughtfulness than unhappiness. That wasn't to say he was even a little happy, however.

"'They,'" Sinter reiterated with a soft snort, "Unlikely, I'm afraid. Their track record has been incredibly poor in terms of both efficiency and general effectiveness. Besides, their hideout was raided in a sting operation a while ago. Their ashes have been scattered to the winds so to speak."

Sinter turned his attention back out to the water. Both moons had risen completely from behind the treeline. The reflections on the water were pretty.

"The cycle of death and rebirth isn't nearly as glamorous as one would think. Better to work with what you have, in my opinion." It was more reliable, at the very least.

stringency

 

[artificial bones]

Zeylla stared at the redblood for a moment, even as his eyes trailed back to the water. She could tell they had differing opinions here, but somehow it was working out fine. But she still couldn't agree. Why lay back and just accept what was given to you.

No, she would fight and never give up. She couldn't imagine just accepting things--though wasn't that what she had done her whole life. Just accept what Leechmom told her. She shook her head of the thought, this was different. This was something to change the world perhaps.

Zeylla felt that deep down, she wouldn't give that up.

"And perhaps in my opinion, for some, what they have is a gift that could change things and should they not use that to its full potential?" she said with a touch of stubbornness, though there was no unkindness in her voice. What if the troll to change the world was culled because of bloodcolor, or too afraid to stand forward. That's what the rebels did, they gave the common troll a feeling of strength and bravery where there was none.

seekingCylem

 

[seekingCylem]

Sinter opened his mouth to reply, but closed it. A moment passed before he spoke. "You're an... optimistic person, Zeylla Crypsi." Sinter spoke with no sarcasm or malice, but also no praise. Optimism was a nice thought, like social equality. Unfortunately it wasn't one Sinter could fully wrap his head around. He had too many worries in his life. Tending to worries was what he was best at.

Work with what you have, after all.

Perhaps someone like Zeylla's hypothetical existed. They most likely didn't. To be perfectly honest, Sinter's first thought regarding the power of change was "doomsday device" and not "fated hero." He loved fantasy stories, but they were just that: fantasy.

If they did exist, though... Well, Sinter couldn't say he disagreed.

"As long as that gift isn't for improvised explosives," Sinter quipped without thinking. "Oh my god, I'm sorry. That was grim." Sinter's blush was invisible against his natural skin tone, but his hunched shoulders and worried lip spoke volumes. Eventually he pried himself back into a proper standing position.

"Ah..." Sinter pulled a pocket watch from his jacket. "My appointment. I should probably..." Sinter paused to look back to Zeylla. It hadn't been the discussion he'd expected to get into that evening, but he felt it was an important one all the same.

stringency

Almost posted on the mule by accident ._.;;

 

[artificial bones]

Was she optimistic? Zeylla had never thought of it before, she usually tried to stay so far out of all the world problems that she didn't have an opinion. But now here she was, thinking about things she never thought about. And evidently, she was optimistic. But either way, it was true, she hoped that when things changed it was because a troll changed them. Not violence.

Zeylla couldn't help the small, yet uncontrolled, laugh that slipped from her lips as Sinter mentioned explosives. Indeed, that would not be the best way to make changes(though it would make changes all the same). She waved off his apology with a hand and shook her head, "A little dark humor never hurt anyone," she mused while watching the redbloods cheeks burn, well, red, and the rest of his body was tense, and his worried face spoke of a history with pain.

She as about to ask when he mentioned his appointment. Right, she had forgotten. "Ah, yes...perhaps," she paused, unsure how to say it and unsure how it would be taken, "Another time, we shall see each other, but for now, travel safe," she gave Sinter a small, rare smile and offered a hand. It was pleasant to have had someone to talk to, even though she hadn't expected it;. It was nice. And Zeylla didn't often get to enjoy nice.

"I enjoyed our conversation."

seekingCylem

 

[seekingCylem]

Sinter re-pocketed his watch. His sense of ease, or what little he ever truly possessed, seemed to return. Bolstered by Zeylla's amity, Sinter offered a gentle smile of his own. It had been... Well it may never have been, according to Sinter's memory, that he'd had such a pleasant discussion of such topics. Too many times the recollections of past experiences had become bogged down with tensions and sorrow from both sides. An impartial ear was new, refreshing--healthy even, Sinter realized dimly.

"Thank you. It's been my pleasure," Sinter replied. He closed the short distance between the two of them to take Zeylla's hand. He completed the handshake lightly, but succinct. If he noticed the temperature of her skin, Sinter said nothing. He stepped back and away down the beach. He turned back once to offer a small wave and a smaller grin. "Hope to see you around."

And he was off.

stringency