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The sounds of trolls clearing out was static filtering in through her ears. Her eyes hadn't left Puchen; they were... lost, she was lost. Muscles continued tensing and twitching in her face as she battled within herself, forcing back emotions that she didn't want to feel, biting back all the involuntary reactions that she considered weak. The tears in her eyes stung, but they stayed clung to her delicate lashes, wavering. Puchen approached her.

For as stiff as she felt, she was a ragdoll in Puchen's hands, her arms putting up no resistance when the blueblood clasped her own. Finally, she looked down, staring at the brand on her wrist, mutilated. Her own hands were shaking. Part of her wanted to desperately rip herself away, run back down the corridors, escape from this place, pretend it never happened, that she wasn't the target of some awry aspiration gone wrong sweeps ago. It would be weak to do that, Sarcel knew. There was no way she could tear her legs from this spot. When she looked back up, met Puchen's resolved stare, she was met with something both unfamiliar and yet... comforting, she knew this feeling, fleeting and yet wholesome. She was hinged on Puchen's actions, ready to crumble, and yet...

She did not.

Did she?

Every word, every syllable that came haggardly from her superior broke her in ways she couldn't even describe. It shattered her resolve, dug down and broke along the faults and continents inside her being, continuity be damned because now everything was drifting. She felt small, tiny, young. She was young. What Puchen had to say was exactly what she needed, satisfactory and short, and yet not enough. There was a contradiction: perfect closure, and yet a lack there of. Sarcel knew this feeling. It was like a good book, something you invest a lot of time in. You read and scour every page, forge friendships in the loam of the text, carry your whim and test your wist across every chapter. Everything comes full circle, everything ends. This was that end. This book had been closed. It should have been satisfactory, but the author hadn't written the next book yet.

What did Puchen see in her? She found herself staring across countless trolls reflected in Puchen's exhausted features. She saw Sir—not this Sir—glare furrowed and teeth bared, beating her down, whipping her esteem. He aimed to destroy her and rebuild her. She aspired to be the perfect soldier. Puchen was such a stark paradox to that. Sir wanted the glory for himself, but Puchen willed her to reach out and take it herself.

Lead, Sarcel.

What did it mean, being a leader? Was it merely about being looked up to, was it some other sort of prowess, was it simply respect, was it victories, was it something more? Something else? A mix of the aforementioned; something she hadn't come to experience yet? She couldn't lead, she was weak. Puchen called her strong. Puchen told her not only to fight for herself...

But to fight for others, too. Camaraderie. Was that still possible? Could she still hope to attest to that moral, knowing the savage of war? Did she want to try and be the hero? Wasn't it the hero that always inevitably became the villain? Would she end up like Puchen, or perhaps even Schrad?

Puchen let go of her hands. Somewhere along that speech, or perhaps thereafter, there was another firm touch on her shoulder. "Don't take too long..." was a wisp in her head. ******** dumbass, Kursha of all trolls? She could almost laugh at the irony, given what was mulling in her mind. In the same breath, there was a shred of gratitude as she noted the absence of Elidae and Hemera. He gave her a much needed atmosphere. There was space here, she was alone... Actually, it seemed like it was just her and Puchen at this point, wasn't it? Ha...

For as ripped apart as she felt, she could also feel herself stitching back together, beginning to reconnect. Something welled up inside of her, threatened to overflow and then did— gently sprung in the corners of her eyes and down her cheeks. It was warm. Sarcel never cried; that was tarnished. Sarcel would never cry again. Rather than feeling any sort of loathing or desperation, she only felt freedom. It felt as if something deep seeded and vile was finally leaving her body. She was strong, she was worthy, she was somebody... all these realizations came to her at once.

She could make history. She could write her own story. She could break free from this cycle of pain and misfortune. Take charge? Her? It seemed so unreasonable, but why? Why was that? She couldn't even remember! She didn't know why! No one had held her back, no one but her Sir, and he was gone now. Why had she still been pedaling around after a phantom of the past?

The only thing that was holding her back was herself. At that, she sobbed.

Schrad's death hurt deeper than anything imaginable. Even despite the realizations she garnered, Sarcel would mourn the death of her idol, not because she was dead physically, but because the very idea Sarcel had built up had been tarnished and torn and burned, bang bang, shot and killed. Part of her wanted to hate Puchen for her death, part of her revered her, most of here was thankful of all things. Just because war led to things like this... it didn't mean it did that to everybody.

Sarcel would prove them all wrong. It would take a while, a whole lot of growth, proving a lot of things to herself, but she wasn't going to through in the towel, not yet.

Her body moved on reflex, arm snapping back into a well pointed salute at the blueblood in front of her, tears streaming down her cheeks. The only thing that broke her posture was the writhe of her chest and the ugly, raw sounds that tore out from it. Otherwise, Sarcel held herself up strong.

This time, when she stuttered, it merely from emotion, "S-Sir yes sir!"

She gave Puchen that honor. Someone would revere her memory. She lowered her shaking hand, dismissed herself into the embrace of the shadow.

She didn't linger long in the darkness, but she took the chance to collect herself. She knew the others were all ahead, she knew she had to get back in there... Elidae, Hemera, they needed her, Lorata too, if she was still alive (she wasn't giving up hope); and Alifax, wherever he was, she needed to be there for her friend too. Maybe they'd have a good laugh about this whole debacle once they got out of it and it seemed a little more like a dream; the beetles in her coat pocket she "discovered" were practically burning a hole with how heavy they were. 'Think of the FLARP outfits we could buy with this!', she'd tell him. Hell, if she wasn't taking the time to be pensive, she might have laughed then. Even trolls like Kursha; she couldn't let him hog any more spotlight, he got that in the swamp. She had to try harder if she wanted to be considered equals with any one of her comrades. Her esteemed Majesty herself crossed Sarcel's mind. She definitely couldn't let her down. Her cheeks felt rubbed raw, but the salty sting had stopped.

She rushed back into the light with almost reckless abandoned, back straightened. It had looked like she was crying, probably, but she couldn't let it get to her, not right now. There was work to do, exits to procure, <******** Awassi. What greeted her was an array of doors, trolls scrambling around while some waited. The second Sarcel caught something green, her shoulder subconsciously burned again.

"Sure didn't get far, did you?" It was hard to gauge her words. Sarcel's voice was still scratchy from earlier, but it sounded more like a bland statement rather than any sort of snark or playful jab. Sarcel wasn't in the mood for any of that tonight, but making an attempt was better than wallowing. Her hand dipped into her uniform, clasping around the handle of a knife there. She paid little acknowledgement to the blueblooded child; if there was one fundamental thing Sarcel could come to terms on tonight, it was that most children were guilty until proven innocent. Besides, whatever was behind the door might prove to be more important...

Sleuthsparks: 4.5/10
Choice: C.3

Elidae chooses C.1
5.5 ✦sleuthsparks✦

Wincing at the sound of the gunshot, Elidae couldn't tear her eyes away from the scene, the noise ringing in her sponge clots. Death. Death again. Puchen came stumbling in the tunnel through the lit doorway with a small revolver in hand, bloodied with her own blood and a contrasting red. Elidae turned to look up at Sarcel, her surrogate companion for this wild ride, searching for an explanation. But in the dull, quickly diminishing light, she was motionless. When she finally did speak, her voice carried an unusual, commanding tone; Elidae tilted her head in confusion, blinking. Was that... an order? Her hand slipped away. "Sarcel...?" There was a pat on her head, a familiar voice breaking the bewildered murmuring around them. She looked up to Kursha, then eyes flickered between him and the blueblood. 'Let's go'. he said, but to where?

"C'mon, Mera, we have to go." Elidae said firmly but with hesitance, tugging at the tealblood's arm to get her moving. Her companion seemed to be panicking, and while she too felt frightened, her care for the other diminished it greatly- for the time being. As she tried to keep up, Kursha and Regina (she was much tinier than she thought) ahead of them, she kept an aware eye of her surroundings. Helping Hemera up the ascending staircase, being careful not to slip, she couldn't help but look down at all the trolls following, wondering where they were all heading. Once at the top, she caught sight of Kursha surging through the wall and-

"Look, light!" Practically sprinting through, Elidae relished in finally being out of the dark passageway. Halting and skidding on her mary janes, she gazed down the corridor lined with many doors, spotting Leeroi, ahead of the game before Kursha. To her disbelief, she witnessed the greenblood purposely tripping him.

"HEY! Th-That wasn't...! That wasn't nice!" She had called to Kursha, but realized quickly it was a lost cause. Weren't they working together, though? Leeroi's reaction caught her by surprise as well. Elidae gave him an incredulous glance. That certainly was an interesting outburst. If she had a moment, her thought process would have reverted back to her conversation with Eridia previously in the evening, but this was not the time. Awassi was the goal.

In a split second, Elidae made the decision to check the very first door in the hallway, creaking it open very slowly and peaking in cautiously. Part of her hoped to perhaps find something useful, but another sincerely dreaded the idea of anything else.


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MelanchoLIESSS
sup


Gl!tchers
my post is


Gween Minuet
super rushed


Kimbl kittyyyyyy
my apologies

"Y-yes! O-okay!" she called back to Sarcel. Mera did just as she was told, trying to use the blueblood ahead as a beacon. Don't leave me behind don't leave me behind I didn't come here to die. "Is Elidae all right?" she asked. Paused. Added, "Are you all right?" She wouldn't get an answer, though. Not now, anyway; not long after, Mera, came upon some light in the wall. Noises. Voices! Trolls from earlier! Some that she had even forgotten about in her bid to move.

It was....stunning to see this drama unfold. Puchen and Schrad, Schrad and Puchen. Back-alley justice, inside jobs, whatever; she was not prepared for it, much less thinking about the timing. It ended with one more troll dead, and the disgraced troll alive. Their queen, who had joined the fray at some point, seemed to not have any issue with the events that had unfolded. Considering how she flipped out when Epratt was found dead and all... Regina was an enigma, but kept her cool head when they needed it most. What an amazing queen.

Mera soon had the ability to approach Sarcel and Elidae. Not long after, the blueblood wanted to stay behind. That seemed foolish. Mera wished to interject, but the Commander cut in as he, too, appeared out of nowhere. Or, well, anywhere in the darkness. Before she knew it, Elidae was tugging her along. What a good friend! Elidae..

Even though it was a yellowblood in the lead, it was still someone who helped her feel a little more at ease. Compounded by Kursha and Regina around, too, they might truly be in safe hands. They would get out of here. They still had their lusii, and capable leaders of various ranks. Yes. Okay. It would be okay. Just breathe.

Finally, in the light, she caught a glance of Awassi- too late. Trolls of all sort started opening doors, trying to find the host. Elidae started running "Elidae!" Mera went after her, and almost slammed right into the other troll. "Elidae, you have to say something when you're about to-"

Mera stopped mid-sentenced, forced to lean back at Elidae's loud outburst. "...Well then." She peeked over. "They might as well be acting like this is a Bloodfest race," she stated in distaste. "What's next, trying to dunk each other until they can't breathe?" If anything, this was a good distraction from everything else going on.

Her companion had rushed off again, and despite how much she just wanted to take a moment to breathe, she followed after, for good or for ill. Pagoni clasped her jacked with his beak, trying to hold her back, but she pulled away and went after Elidae. If there was something terrible behind the door, she might be able to be some sort of damage control. Or if nothing else, immediately avenge Elidae's passing.

Hemera chooses C.1

Sleuthsparks: 4

Previous path results:
C.1] The block behind the door is very different from the rest of the hive. A small, pokey area, it is filled from floor to ceiling with video screens. While some seem to be playing back live footage from inside the house, others look like they're set in other buildings -- or in different locations set up around Civisect. A huge switchboard sits on the floor, revealing that there are even more cameras to choose from, and only a few are being displayed. A printer is hooked up to the same jumble of cables the screens are, and a few fresh prints sit in the out tray, noticeably one of each guest at the party, taken without their knowledge as they stepped in the front door of the hive. Yours is there too and you snatch it out quickly. Unfortunately, Erilyn doesn't seem to be in this block - but you hear cries from outside. Once you are done here feel free to follow the noise to path C.5.

If your troll takes the time to go through the print out tray and fully investigate the block, ignoring any yelling from outside, you may not choose path C.5 but instead be prompted later where you can go. Your troll can find the following:


C.2] As you fling open the door, a wave of dry heat washes over you. The block is on fire! Shelving and filing cabinets burn merrily under the flames of hundreds of documents. Hanging high enough on the wall for the flames to not yet have reached is a framed photo of Awassi, looking younger and in a military uniform with their hair tied back. They sit at a large switchboard, headphones hanging around their neck as they smile and wave at the camera. In the background, video screens can be seen. It looks like it was taken in some sort of military communications station. Looking down, in the middle of the floor you can see a lighter, discarded carelessly. Erilyn's green dot on it marks it as one of theirs - and on the far side of the block a hidden door hangs open. You can't make it across the blaze safely, but you hear a shout from back down the hall. Maybe they've come out on the other side of whatever passage they took? When you realize that nothing in the block is salvageable, you can turn back and follow the path of C.5.

C.3] At first this seems to be an empty respiteblock. It doesn't look grand enough to be the master respiteblock. Your thinkpan gently nudges you, and says 'there is a dead seadweller lying on the bed'. You tell your thinkpan that you can see them, thank you very much. It looks like either Kewrei is a very, very, very good actor, or any theories about him faking his death have been soundly disproven. The block doesn't smell very nice, and you lose 1 ✦sleuthsparks✦ - you should probably try another door. As you step away, a shout from down the corridor alerts you that there's something going on! You hurry back down to follow path C.5.

C.4]One door you fling open reveals a block that is pitch black. A-ha, maybe they're hiding in here! You take a step forwards into the block to try and make out what's inside, and --
✿△ △
(◕‿◕✿) ==>
-- oops. All trolls who took this path take the grand pit tumble. As you fall, you watch your remaining ✦sleuthsparks✦ tumble away from you. Thanks for playing!

C.5] As you stand watching your fellow party sleuths run up and down the hall, you suddenly hear quick footsteps pass you by - coming from inside the wall. Giving a shout to alert the trolls searching the hall, you turn and run - as quietly as you can- alongside the footsteps, following them back back down the hall, to a final door that sits to the left of the top of the staircase, on the second stem. Inside the block, you hear the thump of a hidden door swinging open. Gotcha, for reals, finally. Riding a wave of adrenaline, you throw the door open and race forwards into the block. Trolls who follow this path from another run along behind, following everyone else to the block. If you post that you arrive at the block ahead of trolls who were originally doing C.5 your troll has run forwards and pushed ahead, arriving at the block first.

Option C.5 cont

Eridia watched as trolls disappeared and occasionally reappeared. Silly trolls, they were so guillible if they thought nothing would happen to them. Eridia rolled her eye until... Light footsteps echoed inside her spongeclots. It wasn't possible, then Again Awassi could have had another ace up their sleeve. Brilliant. Others seemed to hear them as well, the child ran as fast as she could and stepped as lightly as she could. Pushing her way through as she always did. No way was she going to let someone else take all the glory. She noticed she was running back back down the hall, towards the final door. Another door was swung open. Damn Awassi still had some energy left. Eridia did the same and raced into it. Her bloodpusher raced hard and pounded harshly on her chest.

I've got you now greenblood.

The first thing Zindel saw behind the door was the grain of the video screens. Zindel's hands started sweating more with each moment he stared at the videos, feeling his adam's apple bob with each recording he saw. His throat became extremely dry all of a sudden-- Fingerprints? Chiara's, Leeroi's, Puchen's... His own. Instinctively the redblood took his own, looking around a bit before taking Chiara's too, tucking both in his inside suit pocket. He'd have to destroy them, later. The cries from the outside warned him of Erilyn, but they could wait a bit, he was sure. Flipping through the recordings, Zindel wrinkled his nose at the sight of Gerard throwing his fit. He watched the fight between Comedi and Kewrei, slightly intrigued. The trolls handing over parcels-- There were a few familiar faces, but he couldn't quite place them just yet. His eyes glanced over to a video of Awassi and Comedi moving things around, replacing things... So both of them were in on the set-up? How convenient. Tigwyn seemed quite busy in the library, and by the time he saw Schrad enter the room and destroy the documents inside of them, he realized none of the trolls in the block were exactly... innocent. Well-- He'd guessed since the murder happened and the queen automatically blamed the trolls at the table. It must've been them for a reason. None of them had been innocent since the beginning.

Zindel followed after the rush of people after closing the door to the room he was just in, eyes darting from place to place. Where were they even heading?!? He followed after them before getting impatient and pushing through into the block, passing by a few trolls in the process, panting hard because he used his last burst of strength.

Azrael did his best to peak around the greenblood who might as well have been as tall as some kind of tree, all he could get was an awful whiff assaulting his sniff node. He clapped his hands to his face and backed away from the door." Euugh-- " was the only sound that came from the small blueblood. As he did so he heard a shout, without a second thought he dashed away to follow it along with many others. The rush felt exciting as he ran along, he didn't so much care about whether or not they caught Awassi, he was too small to even do that in the first place. He had no plots, just enjoying the sheer thrill of that evening. He had only enough time to glance something on the bed when shouting caught his attention. Quickly he was off running back the way he'd came, following the crowd down the hall to catch the blueblood. Azrael could feel a mix of excitement and responsibility bubble up inside him as he chased along. This night had definitely been a great adventure and he wanted to see it through!

scarfettle had finally made an appearance out of the bag at the smell of flames. The small dragon crawled out and then climbed onto Azrael. What had his charge gotten into while he was asleep? Scarfettle clung to his child and watched the manic display. Meanwhile, Azrael caught sight of a familiar purpleblood, but no sign of his new greenblood friend Hazmas. He opened his mouth to call out to Eridia, but felt his throat go dry. He didn't have time to catch up with her! They had to get Erilyn, he would make up with her later.

sleuthsparks:
9