Welcome to Gaia! ::

Sinter had at first been skeptical of having date night at Tamiya's hive rather than his own. Aside from being His Own, and therefore under his complete control and comfort zone as host, Sinter's hive was better furnished than Tamiya's. At least, this was his assumption based on the relatively recent construction and, well, Tamiya. Tamiya's sense of safety consciousness, while strong, was exceptionally situational. He was already expecting trap doors and awful maybe-on-purpose-maybe-not taxidermy.

However, the refreshing sea breeze on the way over, as well as Tamiya's enthusiasm for the upcoming date helped put Sinter's mind at ease. Even the most unpleasant decor would still be of Tamiya's choosing and therefore of comfort to her, which went a long way in feelings jams.

Sinter gave a small smile as he entered the looming coastal hive. He tried to wave off Tamiya's comfort-based concerns, but it was too late. She had already left and returned with an honestly gorgeous quilt. He held his arms out to receive it in a surprised reflex. He felt a warmth bubble up in his chest at the thoughtfulness and quality of the gift. It was so soft and the stitching was so...

Sinter noticed the patterns stitched into the quilt and felt that same warmth bubble straight on up to his face. Oh... Oh my. This certainly was thoughtful.

"Th- Thank you, Tamiya! Really, this is so... nice." He awkwardly adjusted his grip on the mass of fabric and smiled through the heat in his cheeks. "It's beautiful. And you're right. Quilts may fit the aesthetic of my hive, but I think the colors look better in yours. A piece of me for your hive."

Sinter felt a little silly at the sappiness of his words, but he meant them all the same. Wobbling a little, he managed to kick his shoes off and to the side of the door before following Tamiya further into the hive.

"Feng shui" was not a term known to Alternian culture, but if Sinter had known of the concept, he most certainly would have recognized the principles at play in Tamiya's hive. As it was, he didn't, and the simultaneous meticulousness and randomosity of the room set him on edge. Was he allowed to touch any of this stuff? Where was he supposed to sit?

Thankfully, or perhaps blessedly, Tamiya wasted no time presenting her masterpiece. Sinter did his best to follow Tamiya's lead and join her in the pile. Despite his attempt to seat himself gracefully, the pillow nest engulfed him almost immediately upon touching down. Knowing Tamiya, this result was likely engineered into the design of the pile from the beginning. Sinter allowed the quilt he'd been holding to drape loosely across his lap, while turning up a corner inviting Tamiya to share the cuddleplane.

"So... What brings us here tonight? Save of course our pale affection for one another." Sinter did his best to keep the conversation going, lest Tamiya realize that he was actually incapable of moving from his spot waist-deep in cushions.

If nothing else, Sinter admired Tamiya's dedication to formality, even if that formality involved a lot of swearing and corn syrup. He folded his hands in his lap, feeling as though the moment called for it.

His mouth twitched at the revelation of their purpose atop the pile. For all the sentimentality of Tamiya's opening statement, this was an incredibly cliched point of discussion. Tamiya seemed as resolute as ever, though, and it took Sinter a few tries before landing on an appropriate response.

"I mean... My first inclination is to say 'no...' but I don't want to disappoint. I swear I've been out and about socially. With nice people, even. I'm not sure about the 'great forces' part, however... I don't think I'm the type of troll that moves quite that quickly."

Sinter smiled despite the heating sensation in his face and ears. The last thing he wanted was for Tamiya to feel inclined to "help" him win over a matesprit or kismesis. It would be hard enough introducing whatever quadrantmate he'd acquire after the fact. If anything, Sinter would be afraid a potential kismesis would fall instead for Tamiya upon meeting her.

...A certain other redblood flashed in Sinter's mind and his brows furrowed in an attempt to smother the resulting disdain.

Sinter was not regularly inclined to laugh in the face of another troll, but Tamiya was making it awfully hard. For such a dignified troll she was certainly acting childish; and not even in a tantrum-throwing kind of way. Sinter remembered having a similar conversation with his lusus when he was little, though not phrased quite so... directly. It was endearing.

"Let's see..." Sinter tapped his chin in a thoughtful pose that was only mostly hyperbolic. "Well you seemed to bounce back rather spectacularly from whatever went down with you in the swamp, and with Four Fronds immediately following. It was traumatic enough just being on the other end of the radio. I'm surprised you handled being in the thick of it all as well as you did. The Tamiya I knew as a child certainly wouldn't have been in as good spirits as you are now."

Sinter was devastatingly curious as to what truly happened during that whole debacle, but the last thing he wanted to do was upset Tamiya. She'd clearly been put through the wringer on that excursion and it was hard enough to get a straight answer out of her on a good night. Per usual, Sinter took a lighter, more complimentary crack at addressing the topic.

The sight of Tamiya's mangled hands caught the corner of Sinter's vision. He said nothing, but tightened his grip on the quilt.

Sinter listened quietly as Tamiya spoke. It was a habit born out of ingrained politeness just as much as it was concentration on parsing Tamiya's speech pattern. What began as rather typical Juggalo-centric rhetoric melted into a solemn admission on Tamiya's part. Sinter further inclined his head in Tamiya's direction as he tried to assemble a picture of what had transpired with Tamiya back then.

Something akin to a repressed memory bubbled up inside of Sinter. He knew the objective details of what had happened during his time at the communications center while Tamiya was out on the front lines. Aandes. The fight. Talking to Tamiya on the radio. He also remembered being intensely disturbed by the whole experience, however he couldn't exactly remember how the pieces all fit together. It was like trying to recount a dream the morning after. He was viewing his memories through an oily filter.

He'd been afraid. He'd been so afraid. Not shocked, but full of dread. Useless. He'd felt so useless he'd thought he was dying. He was going to die. He was going to be killed. There was smoke and fire and feathers

’It’s not safe here, it’s not safe here, it’s n͝o҉t ̸saf҉e h̨e͠r͏e̛,͢ Ï̻̺̠̣̮̲T͈̝̯̄ͅ'͍̠̙̿ͯ̊ͬ̀̏ͤ͡S̳̠͎͔̰͈̰̾̓ͤ̊͐̐́ ͔̋̈́ͬ̑̇̚N̜͕͇͖̣͙͒̇ͩ̽ͦȎͪ͌ͫ̾̈́͠T͈̺̘̬͓͂ͤͫ̓ͪ̈́͋͜ ̖̼̫̤̖̰S̵̹̭͙̗̻̘̦ͤ̽̒͋ͣ͑A̫̘ͪͮ͋̈́̐͘ͅF̟̻ͩͭ̂͋̅̂E̽͝ ̺̗̙ͫH͙͇̝̝̤̼̃̍͑̃̑͡E̝̫̲ͦ̅̑̄̋̌͘ṚE̴͕̬̻͇ͫͭͩ,’

"...Chucklevoodoos." The word shook Sinter from his thoughts with alarming efficiency. It took him a moment to realize the pain in his hands was due to the grip he'd been exerting on the edge of the quilt. Even the act of loosening his grip was painful despite his great care to move slowly so as not to draw attention to himself.

"Chucklevoodoos." It was a bizarre term. If Sinter hadn't done his research on Subjugglators due to Tamiya's presence in his life, he probably would have laughed at how silly it sounded. Even while the exact definition was unclear, he knew this wasn't a laughing matter. Clowns weren't known for straight-talk. What little Sinter could have gleaned from the few texts he'd found that had predated the Glub, he knew it was a power unique to purplebloods brought up in the Cult. Based on the flowery writing, it could have been interpreted as the intimidating presence that came with such power and unpredictability. Sinter knew better by this point, however. The bards of old had been speaking literally of the "miraculous bond shared between an entertainer of the wicked tricks and their pissblooded audience, fated to smother beneath the shells of tuskbeast consumption." It was the ultimate show--a dark carnival staged within the unfortunate individual's own mind. It was real. Sinter had experienced it. Tamiya had made him experience it.

"You... shared it with me." Sinter was speaking very slowly. The force of the memory alone was enough to rattle his thinkpan, much less the revelation of what it actually was. "Back then. When you were in the forest and I was in the Intelligence Offices. Over the radio you... I... I felt it."

Sinter hazarded a glance at Tamiya's face. His drive to not worry Tamiya conflicted with his own need for reassurance. "I remember. I saw things."

Sinter had always done his damnedest to keep his emotions from showing too clearly on his face. A poor temper or sign of emotional weakness were both potentially devastating to a lowblood. Even with Tamiya, Sinter's priority had always been her comfort above his own. Sinter was failing that night on multiple counts. Tamiya had grown quiet, withdrawn, and the pain of being the cause showed plainly on Sinter's face. The quilt knotted within his grip. Everything in his nature drove Sinter to search for a way to remedy the tense atmosphere, but he found none. He needed a cue from Tamiya--anything.

When Tamiya did speak, it was slowly and deliberately. As much as Sinter wanted to jump up with empty words of placation, he steeled himself with the knowledge that it would do more harm than good. He forced himself to take a moment to think carefully before responding.

"I... I do not. Being a clown is as much a part of you as the color of your blood. Looking at it that way... The outcome was inevitable. I can't fault you on something beyond your control. This specific instance was an accident," Sinter said the last part with a deliberacy that called for confirmation. He believed completely that Tamiya hadn't intended to hurt him, but he still felt the need to hear those words come directly from her.

"What do you plan to do, now that you know what you're capable of?"

Under any other circumstances, the discovery of a latent power would have been a thing of excitement, celebration even. This, however, carried far too many implications for the future of a lot of trolls beyond Tamiya and Sinter personally.

Sinter relaxed in tandem with Tamiya. Hopefully he'd just cleared the most pressing hurdle of the night.

Tamiya continued to elaborate on her plans for the future. Sinter felt an intense warmth build up in his chest as she spoke. Sinter knew Tamiya relied on him for things such as scheduling and paperwork and the occasional pie. To hear just how highly she thought of him, however, it filled his stomach with butterflies. She was a leader in every possible respect, and yet she considered him important. If she kept this up Tamiya would have him getting misty-eyed. Sinter's smile flickered between affectionate and proud.

His expression became more subdued, but no less gentle as Tamiya spoke of her lusus. "Terrifying" was practically a physical property of Kabukidad. Sinter knew he was cruel, and even the care towards his own charge was a twisted sort of thing. Still, he was a proud creature that Sinter couldn't help but respect and fear in equal measure. He considered Kabukidad's meager tolerance of his presence to be high praise coming from such a lusus.

"Your lusus is... principled," Sinter decided was a more diplomatic word than "evil," "But not unreasonable. I'll help however I can." Sinter nodded in affirmation, both for Tamiya's and his own sake.

Sinter repressed the urge to sigh at Tamiya's clear trepidation regarding the matter. It wouldn't be an easy experience whenever it came about. He couldn't tell her otherwise. Slowly Sinter moved his hand so it rested back to back against the lump Tamiya's made under the quilt. Sinter made no move to be more overtly affectionate, nor did he look over at Tamiya. She didn't need him to acknowledge her fears anymore than what was already apparent.