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Azrael stayed quiet, partially because of his still hurting jaw, but mostly to observe. He couldn't bas a decision on something that may or may not be true. Sure it was insulting to any highblood, but if he got away with it wasn't that even worse. He wanted to dig around more and see if there was any truth to this statement. He hoped there wasn't, but if there was he wanted to be sure. So his first order of business was to find the redblood that wrote it on the wall. Who could that be anyway? He'd definitely ask Chiara since she seemed to know.

Azrael waited for the commotion to die down and watched as the two loudest purplebloods left the central hivestem. This would make the area a lot more breathable for sure. Well, his best bet was to review what he'd already found out about the main mystery. He pulled out his sketchpad and looked for the notes he'd taken on the matter. Azrael pulled out a pen and wrote a small note on the cover of his sketchpad that said: 'talk to chiara'. This was so that it was visible for him to notice just in case he forgot. He then went to work studying the clues he'd gathered just a while before and documenting his findings on their specific page in his sketchbook.

forgetmenotHivestuck

2nd hour: north outgrowth: nutrition block: thermal hull
2nd hour, north outgrowth: sideboard: questioned Comedi "What do you know about Epratt? "

After pulling away from the board and watching as the greenblood came to add more info, Zindel couldn't help but try to read as Chiara got into even deeper s**t with the commander and the seadweller before some redblood came up to him, asking him if he could know where the basement was. Zindel blinked. "It's, uh, just a short walk from here-- Follow the western most path..." He stated, before feeling a hand-- Firm hand, grab his arm tight and tug him away from the other. Zindel looked at the other redblood apologetically before managing to say one last thing-- "...I saw Sir there, with the mutantblooded kids...! Don't know if that'd help, but..." He was soon pulled away by Chiara, whom guided him to a nearby table. He sat with her, nodding at her question before coming close to her and whispering in her ear. "I heard from Sir Schrad that Erilyn is a bleeding heart. It gets me thinking-- How maybe, she might willingly have the mutants in the, uh, cage in the basement. There're also candy wrappers in the cage and from what Leeroi tells me, it looks longstanding. She also told me Gerard might be faking his blood color and wearing a purple blooded disguise... See, he's even covering his eye color. Erylin didn't care much for Epratt, and basically told me they thought he got what was coming to him. I don't think they're the killer, but they do seem to have something going on..."

Zindel trailed off when the lights flickered again, eyes floating upwards to the lighting systems. When they were stabilized, the first thing he heard was curses streaming from the mouth of another, and while Zindel didn't care much at first, eventually the voice of the empress rung out in the area. ...Feelings emergency? Zindel couldn't help but feel like this may have been something trivial and unrelated to the investigation, but as he heard the words spewing from the mouth of the highblood, the redblood felt something was up. It wasn't until he approached the group, when he saw the gloved hand of the skinny looking purple blood pointing directly at his scrawl on the board that Zindel felt any sort of attack or worry for the situation.

Zindel's blood went cold. The nervous sweat that built up on his hands was enough to make the redblood remove his gloves, feeling quite uncomfortable with them on, wiping them on his pants and crossing his arms nervously. He slowly breathed in and out to try and calm himself-- Okay, at least it was just one of them. One troll, he could deal with, possibly. It was only when a stuttering blueblood broke away from the group that he bowed his head slightly, and soon after a young purpleblood started screaming at the group, searching for who'd done it.

Public humiliation. Zindel's mouth curled into a grimace.

While he honestly didn't care if he'd have to beg or even kiss the shoe of the other, since he was a redblood, they would probably try to show their dominance toward him. They would, most likely, hurt him for his unintentional impudence. And that was the real reason he was scared. There wasn't anything they could take from him that wasn't already gone. He clutched his mask a little tighter, swallowing as he heard more trolls speak out, hand slacking in grip the second he heard the purpleblooded kid ask the commander to slit his throat. Ha. Haaaa. Yeah, ******** speaking out or giving his input ever again. He'd wanted to, just to get over with it, but now it was getting dangerous. Maybe it'd blow over. Maybe the purpleblood would get over himself and he could erase it from the board secretly. But that wouldn't happen, even he knew it with how apparently idiotic he'd been to even think about putting that on the board. Trolls loved their entertainment.

When he felt a hand slide into his own and squeeze it, the redblood blinked, confused, before looking at the owner-- Chiara. What-- Why was she looking at him? Why was she-- Oh ********. Oh, <********> She'd let go of his limp hand and stepped forward. Zindel froze up, tense, unbelieving.

"I will take responsibility for the written line."

This was a joke, right? Chiara would turn around and push him into the view, right...? She was going to... She just wanted him to get hurt. She wouldn't-- She wouldn't have actually... Zindel swallowed. She knew what she was doing. She knew how he was, how easy it'd be to just drop off the face of the planet and have her stuck with the blame. She knew. Yet she was still taking that risk, soiling her name with his stupidity. A scene happened with the other purpleblood and Chiara, the queen spoke, and then Gerard left. His shoulders slumped as the stuttery blueblood from before walked up to the board and asked for permission to clean it off. Guilt wrapped around his insides like a coil, but a strong feeling of dislike and previous feelings of anger whipped across it. Guilt? Toward a highblood? Toward Chiara? When had he become so weak-hearted? Normally he wouldn't care. He didn't let himself get attached, before. He would've been glad to have her off his back. But.

But.

Zindel opened his mouth, choked on his words, and closed it. With stoic and strangely calm expression, the redblood watched Chiara from afar, expression visibly a mix between shock, disbelief, and confusion. Why couldn't she just have stayed quiet...? Were they waiting for him to come out? Now that the blame had been taken and the troll in question had disappeared, Zindel felt less threatened. Or, well, as "less threatened" as a troll who was within a 5 feet distance to the Queen could be. Then again, she was being... fair, he guessed. It was just a baseless rumor... But something told him there was more to it. He slowly, nervously, walked out of the crowd. "...I can do it," He stated with a hoarse voice, hands cold, face pale, slightly trembling. Zindel cleared his throat. "If that's okay, I mean."

“Bravo,” whispered Tamiya. She had materialized from somewhere or other behind Sarcel after she had moved out of the way and away from the redblood. “You are a trumpet of competence.”

Tamiya’s gaze was red and steely. Her metal fingers clicked together in some semblance of applause. The hours of the party were ticking past, wearing down on her. The other goings on of what had occurred with Gerard were lost on her, and it was time to rest. “I am away.” She mumbled. “And will retire chuckleshuffling to a chair where I may meditate to restore my woefully wacky thinkpan.”

She slipped to the side of the room and collapsed onto a chair. Craning her neck, she looked to see if the ablution block was open. Perhaps she could shed some layers. Tamiya murmured a quiet lyrical prayer to herself and closed her eyes. Her chanting was low but certain.

After discovering the training block was not a successful place to review his notes, Leeroi wandered back in to the center of Erilyn's hive, hoping that the area had since cleared out after the proceeding drama. Thankfully, while the place still seemed packed with trolls, Leeroi managed to find an empty spot in the room to stand and think.

Hemera slipped out for a bit once the dust settled with Rutven. There was work to be done! Everything would settle itself out. She only came back again momentarily, checking up on progress as it were, and in time to see a redblood at center stage. A potential confessor? Maybe? Perhaps? Finally someone of the right hue, anyway. Good for them stepping up to the plate. Perhaps once someone finally took the heat, she could pull Elidae aside for a moment. Obviously not this minute, considering pressing matters and all, but by hook or by crook...

He wandered over every so often to think about what he'd been doing and check on the chalk's availability again.

Unfortunately the chalk was, well, still being held. That was okay, though. The redblood who'd written the note was still definitely there, and so was the blueblood who'd just spoken up. If things were about to be resolved he'd see if Sarcel had anything to say, then. Wait, where'd she gone? The blue had quickly disappeared into a hallway - but Alifax could follow her a ways before she made it to her destination.

"Sarcel?" he called, voice clear as he walked. She was pretty fast, after all. He hoped it was her, although she recognized her voice by now. "Do you want to meet somewhere private in a few minutes?" Actually - actually the ablution block would work for this. He thought. Probably. "I'd like to be able to discuss something without - well. You know." Without any of what had just happened interrupting them.

[+] Kursha Vidari

Kursha rolled his eyes as Eridia began to taunt him. She sure bounced back quick. Apparently his lesson from earlier had not been firm enough. He should have stepped on her throat a little harder—dug his heel in, and ruptured her vocal chords. That at least would save him from having to listen to whatever garbage she had to spout. Oh well. He would keep that in mind for next time. For now though, he had more important things on his thinkpan than educating wigglers on common courtesy. So he did the best thing he could have done in that situation.

He ignored her.

With the commotion dying down, and trolls trickling out, it was time to get back to work. As Chiara took the spotlight (followed by Sarcel and an unfamiliar redblood), Kursha turned to Elidae. He stooped down beside her, wrists resting on his knees. “Hey, good job back there. I guess I owe you thanks once again, huh?” He grinned. “I'm gonna check out the west outgrowth while all this,” he gestured back at Regina and the three volunteers with another eyeroll, “wraps up. Come find me if you need anything.”

Rising, Kursha turned to leave. “Catch you later, Eli-Bug!”

Alifax had tilted his head at Sarcel's question - probably his best answer to that question was a noncommittal shrug. Funnily enough, it fit the pattern of what most of his answers to most questions tended to be. Bland and forgettable, that Alifax...

That was okay. It gave him space to think about what he'd just heard.

It also meant he could slip into the ablution block and wait for Sarcel and think there.