#but something like karkat's cherry red may make it look too different!

[becquerel]

do u think a mutantblood would wear a mask or smt to hide their tongue (full of blood)?

hmmm. i think it depends. in my opinion id say most mutantbloods are similar enough in blood color to other non mutant bloods they could get away with saying theyre that blood color instead (since human mouths arent blood red and are usually a shade of pink - i think trolls would be similar in that)

but this is a good design idea >:))

[interrogatormentors]

Event Eleven: Natural

They dissected Ualona in their anatomy class the following day. Sollux knew he should’ve been ready. All of the other subjects in the dissection videos to learn about the inner workings of the body, were young and fit, and more than a few showed signs of distress and torture when they were working on the cadavers. Sollux knew they were working on other trainees, but still they all stopped and stared at the body on the table waiting for them with the exception of Rosmer and Zesaim. Those two remained as placid as ever as of late, eerily so as they took their seats.

A new instructor waited for them, a goldblood with a horrific burn across one side of her face and a bright red eye. “Welcome, recruits,” she said, stretching on some gloves as she spoke, “to the next stage of your anatomy schoolfeeding. As you are well aware, this specimen hasn’t been dead long and I wish to make efficient use of it while it is here. Please take up your tablets-- You will be answering questions as I perform this dissection, so no need for gloves just yet. Once I have been satisfied with your performance, you will be tasked with practicing cuts and sutures on the specimen, as in the field you may have to patch up both yourself and your interrogation subject at any time. Do keep in mind that dead flesh is very different from the living, and respond accordingly. Be very grateful one of your own perished at such a convenient time, as knowing the subject in this unit is optimal. We would hate to have to give you a frozen subject.”

Sollux sat down in his usual seat, and despite his best attempts to remain impartial to avoid punishment he couldn’t help speaking up. His tablet zapped him as he did so, but he continued on without so much as flinching. “I’m not saying I won’t do this, because I know that isn’t an option,” he said. He kept his expression passive, and managed to avoid any further electrocution. “But I’d just like to know what’s accomplished by knowing.. The specimen.” He narrowly avoided grimacing then. He hated speaking as though Ualona was just a piece of meat, but that too had to be buried. Emotions were weakness.

Rosmer scoffed beside him, but the instructor lifted a hand. “Calm yourself, Leywet. Captor here has asked an excellent question.” She began to pace, arms folded behind her back. “Why indeed? The answer is simple-- there is no greater weakness than close relationships. Alliances are useful to use and exploit, but sentimental clinging will always serve as a detriment. If your closest friend is a traitor to the empire, you must be able to detach yourself and do what is done.” Sollux stiffened by a millimeter, and immediately the instructor’s good eye fixed upon him as she continued speaking. “We are the sharpest knives of the empire, recruits. Do not forget that.”

Trisia averted her eyes as the instructor went back to the table and picked up a scalpel, but Sollux forced himself to watch. He could feel something in him slipping away, giving up as the instructor put the knife to Ualona’s chest. “You are all familiar with the first cut to start with, yes? Do tell me my predecessor did not fail you in that regard.”

Sollux glanced over at Mercuo, who shrugged a shoulder, but they all answered correctly: a Y-cut, to access the chest and organs within for an autopsy-style investigation. Ophlia refused to answer, hands flat on her desk in front of her, and didn’t move as her tablet zapped out at her.

“Please be mature about this, Miss Davrot,” the instructor said. She made the initial cut, exposing the abdominal and thoracic cavities with a clean Y-cut. “When performing your own dissections, remember to start at the corner of the pectorals and go diagonally until they meet at the midline. Do not make the mistake of starting with the vertical cut down the middle. Cherry picking will get you nowhere. Trolls will, on occasion, hide valuable information in any and all bodily cavities and if they are former helmsmen such as Captor, their brain will have been modified with a partially electronic sector. Never forget to check that area when working with a lowblood. If you have enough adrenaline to mitigate shock, you can even do as much while the subject is awake. That way, you immediately know when you have made a mistake in their pan rather than being surprised by their later incoherence when they come to consciousness.”

The instructor peeled the skin and muscle back, revealing Ualona’s internal cavity. Considering how long he had been dead he did not bleed, but Sollux swallowed back a retch at the foul smell. “Next question, what tool is used to open the ribcage?” Mercuo wobbled in his seat, looking queasy, but answered with the rest.

Sollux got the answer wrong, as did Ophlia by virtue of once again refusing not to answer. Sollux readjusted his grip on his tablet, and took the incorrect answer in stride. He filed the answer away in his notes, color-coded and neat. The sane part of him asked why, why bother considering how he still yearned to escape, but the other half of him reminded him of the futility of the attempt. He had already experienced the helm. Wouldn’t it be better to have a semblance of agency, to walk and eat and sleep like a normal troll? Better trolls had sacrificed more for such a life.

The instructor sliced open the digestive sac then, interrupting Sollux’s thoughts. Mercuo actually threw up then, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth as he lifted his head. Rosmer’s eyebrows twitched, but he leaned in all the same as the instructor started going on about how fast to move to recover objects before stomach acid could damage them if the troll hadn’t taken precautionary measures against it.

The rest of the lesson passed just as unpleasantly as the beginning, and the whirring of the bonesaw at Ualona’s skull continued to echo through Sollux’s pan as they filed from the block. Another new instructor awaited them at physical endurance training, a teal with blind eyes, sickly black cracks shattering his skin, and a shadow that seemed too long and too solid as he paced the room.

Sollux went about coding a new, private chatroom for them all, barring Rosmer and Zesaim seeing as the two both seemed compromised now. He pinged the others, one by one over the next hour so as to not arouse suspicion.

[twinArmaggedons [TA] has opened up the memo porndonotopen]

glorifiedCorpsification [GC] has entered the chat!

cavortingGratuity [CG] has entered the chat!

accentuatedAntimony [AA] has entered the chat!

AA: 7his isnt porn is i7

TA: not iin the mood funniily enough TA: anyone know what wa2 up wiith the two new iin2tructor2?

GC: *No.* GC: *Don’t care.*

CG: i actually Heard oTHers Talking CG: pozoia and juyere were parTners and THeir sHip was aTTacked.

TA: let me check the helmiing channel2.

Sollux opened up the helming channels, plugging in his well-worn code string to bypass the firewalls. A quick scan had his pusher skipping a few beats, and he rolled over on his reclining platform onto his stomach as he scrolled through the data.

TA: the rebelliion got them. TA: they managed two get iin the 2hiip, extract the iinterrogatormentor2, and get out. AA: 7ha7 sounds bull to me. AA: 7hey never would ge7 7aken alive.

TA: word iin the helm ii2 that poiizoiia’2 old mate2priit wa2 iinvolved.

AA: wai7 AA: so i7 wasn7 an a77ack?

AA: i7 was a rescue?

GC: *So our quads weren’t culled.* GC: *Someone misses us.*

AA: oh god did you have a quad.

GC: *Pale*

GC: *My diamond, lime bright and secret.*

GC: *My soul traded for hers. They stated her death was a quick one. Do not know what to believe now.*

TA: okay. TA: okay you know what you diidn’t make a trade.

TA: we’re gettiing out of here.

TA: ii 2ay we try and move wiithiin the periigee before anythiing wor2e happen2 two one of u2. 

Sollux turned off his tablet then, putting it under his pillow and flipping back onto his back to stare at the ceiling. He dared to imagine his friends’ faces then, the friends he’d tried to force himself to forget in an attempt to minimize what the interrogatormentors could use against him. Was Karkat actually looking for him? Was he somewhere out in the stars with the others, tearing ships apart and searching them for a helmsman or a mangled corpse within?

The weeks passed. The escape plan took shape, pupating into something actionable as each day passed. Mercuo had the advantage of his blood, and along with Ophlia’s intimidating bulk he managed to procure escape pod codes from the docking bay. Trisia, already a favorite amongst the guard, managed to get a shift shadowing another while Sollux worked on adjusting the cameras just enough to create blind spots in their vision without arousing suspicion. Another night, another millimeter, until there was a foot of space the cameras couldn’t see leading down the corridor to freedom.

Despite his efforts Sollux found his motivation draining from him with each passing night. He voiced none of his doubts in the chat, but what was even the point of escaping? Interrogatormentor training haunted his every moment, but at least it was better than running from the Empire. Just like rebels, they would be hunted down and given no quarter for abandoning their posts. They’d signed away their lives. Ophlia seemed more outwardly hesitant than he was, but he wasn’t sure how much of that was just her brusque manner of speaking and general stoic demeanor.

After dinner one night, Sollux decided to turn in early. He felt off, a headache building up behind his eyes, and Trisia just about booted him down the hall to sleep. The training that night with Rapard had worn him down to the bone, and he fell asleep the moment his head hit the reclining platform. Only much later would he make the connection between the taste of the food that morning and Rosmer’s bright, eager eyes watching him across the table to how deeply he slept.

When Sollux awoke the next night, Trisia and Mercuo had gone. Sollux met Ophlia’s eyes across the room, and while she betrayed nothing he could tell she was thinking the same as him. They abandoned us. Sollux got dressed in silence with the three others, and out of the corner of his eye saw Ophlia pick up her tub of face paint to apply it for the night, before putting it down again without a word. She walked out of the room, blank faced as the rest of them to meet their usual instructors for training

One by one as they walked, an instructor pulled them away. Sollux followed Rapard in silence, and came to a stop with him outside an unfamiliar block. “Your final exam, recruit,” Rapard said. “Congratulations on making it to the live interrogation. You will be tested on your ability to extract information from the subject and to resist emotional attachments.” Rapard opened the door, revealing Mercuo stripped down to his shorts and strapped to a chair with his head slumped forward to his chest. “You are tasked with interrogating Mercuo Trevan for his attachments to the rebellion, and discovering the location of Trisia Avarae. Culling the subject before you are given the clear will result in immediate failure and your termination. Is this clear, recruit?”

Sollux nodded, a faint pang in his gut as he entered the room. The door slammed shut behind him, and Mercuo’s closed eyes screwed themselves shut a little tighter. Sollux took stock of the situation, seeing a rolling table to the side of the room, equipped with various tools that he’d become well acquainted with in the gruelling time that they’d been in training. Scalpels, knives, scissors. Bundles of wire. Bottles of different types of fluid, one of which was labeled as liquid nitrogen. A styrofoam container that no doubt contained dry ice. Then there was a kettle, a hairdryer, pliers. Each item, regardless of how innocuous they seemed, all had a grim purpose in this room.

Sollux closed his eyes and inhaled, gathering himself. While Rapard had forbidden immediately culling Mercuo, Sollux doubted that Mercuo would walk out of this one alive. Maybe he could try to give Mercuo a quick death anyway. He’d prefer Mercuo lived, because a distant part of him longed for all of this to end and for everything to be okay again. He missed Ualona. He missed Mercuo swearing at him and Zesaim and Rosmer being normal. He missed Trisia managing to make Ophlia laugh. He missed Karkat, accessible now only to Sollux on the culling block should they meet again.

Sollux opened his eyes, rolling his shoulders before raising his hand to the thermostat on the wall. He cranked the temperature up, and braced as a wave of hot air blasted through the vents. Mercuo stirred then, lifting his head and jerking at his bonds.

“Captor? What… What’s going on?”

Sollux almost gritted his teeth, but the ghostly chill of his memories in the freezer helped tame him back. “I think you know what’s going on. You failed. I’m going to pass.”

Mercuo swallowed hard, running his tongue over his lips as the heat in the room rose. “...Sparks. Fuck, what-- I talked to you yesterday.” His eyes fell on something behind Sollux, and Sollux glanced back to spot a blinking red light in the corner. They were being watched. Sollux wondered how soon they would edit down the footage, how long until they released this as just another schoolfeeding supplemental. 

Mercuo recovered first, fins flaring out in a clear signal of aggression as Sollux approached him. Other than that, his face fell into a familiar blank mask of indifference all interrogatormentors wore. “I don’t know what exactly you want, dude, but you’ll have to try harder.” He laughed, thin and mirthless while not a single muscle in his face twitched. “The temperature trials don’t work so much on me anymore. We both went through them.”

Sollux smacked Mercuo in the face, watching a drop of sweat fly off the seadweller’s nose and across the room. “Then you know how this works. I’m asking the questions.” With the addition of the camera in the room Sollux worked harder to maintain a cold mask of control, killing any last remnant of resistance to his training. He had to pass. He had to live. Mercuo had proven his weakness. “I know you went through the training, I’m not a wiggler.” He picked up the bundle of wires from the table, pushing the operculum back and hooking the metal ends to the seadweller’s delicate torso gills with little clamps. “I don’t care if your pan isn’t scrambled, it’s your body I need weak.”

Sollux clutched the wires then, using them as a conduit to direct psionics through all of Mercuo’s gills at once. Mercuo held himself together for a whole thirty seconds before he lost his nerve and screeched, little trickles of blood bursting from the gills’ fillaments from the shock. He bent as much as he could in his restraints, rasping with his eyes wide as Sollux watched him. “Why did Trisia leave you behind? I thought she cared about you.”

“They shot my ankle out,” Mercuo said, wheezing and wincing. A quick glance down confirmed this-- the seadweller’s whole foot and ankle up to the shin were swathed in bandages. The wound still looked fresh. “I threw her into a pod and made her go.” He lifted his head, baring a shark-toothed grin even as his breathing hitched from the pain. “Anything else, Sparks?”

Sollux clenched his fist around the wires, and he caught the tiniest flick of Mercuo’s fin at the motion. Good, he’d managed to already get a panic response. Still he had to remind himself to keep going, to get the answers. He had to cover the bases. He already knew Mercuo’s name. That was always the first step. He had to make sure the subject was uncomfortable, and the blazing hot room accomplished that.

He cocked back his free hand, punching Mercuo right in the face. Mercuo gagged around blood as the punch to the face caused him to cut his inner cheek on his teeth, and Sollux turned as he recovered to turn the heat up even more with his psionics. “I’m asking the questions. You’re just making this difficult, you know it. This could be over now. Where were you planning to go? You never told the rest of us.” He sent out another wave of psionics at Mercuo’s gills, eyes narrowed. “She had to go somewhere. Where is she?”

Mercuo bit his lip hard enough to bleed even more with the second surge of psionics, eyes watering as his gills started to tear under the psionic pressure. Sweat dripped down his face. “No. Try something else. Fffffuck you, Captor. C’mon. This cheesy villain shtick doesn’t fit you. Like I knew you were compromised, man, but you can still bounce back.”

Sollux wrenched Mercuo’s head back, forcing him to stare up at the bright bulb above them. “You know where she went. But take your time. I’m here all night.” He dropped Mercuo’s head, removing the wires and starting to tape them shut instead with some medical tape provided to him. His fingers slipped a little in the violet blood, but he pressed on and moved up to Mercuo’s neck gills until the seadweller was, for the first time in his life, watertight. He covered Mercuo’s face with a cloth, grabbing a pitcher from the table and pouring it onto Mercuo’s face to simulate drowning for a troll that never should have the context for such a situation. Mercuo yelled and trilled under the cloth, his legs jerking in their bonds as Sollux waterboarded him. He repeated his question, firm and unflinching as the seadweller gurgled.

It took an hour for Mercuo to stop choking and to begin crying instead, and Sollux pulled back when the desperation reached its peak. Mercuo coughed, head lolling back before he caught himself. “No. Fuck you. I’m not budging. Ask something else.”

Sollux grabbed Mercuo’s face, forcing eye contact. “I think you know I won’t budge either. I don’t care if you give me an answer now or after hours of me tearing your guts out through your nostrils.”

He raised the temperature again, and grabbed himself a sip of water after doing so. Mercuo watched him with hungry eyes, actively panting now. Sollux grabbed another towel, a dry one this time, scrubbing away the sweat and water on Mercuo’s face to rob him of the chance to cool himself down. He put the towel down, placing the heel of his hand over one of Mercuo’s eyes. “But if you’re still going to be stubborn, eyes are a pretty quick route to the pan.” Mercuo writhed. “No, Captor, wait-- I’m sorry, we’re sorry! We tried to wake you up, you weren’t moving, it was just like Ualona-- oh god, no no no no oh god Sollux please--”

The seadweller screamed as Sollux turned his psionics on him, burning his eye beyond repair. Blood and fluid bubbled up around Sollux’s hand and Mercuo’s screeching rose in pitch, body jerking as he tried to back away. He screamed himself hoarse for what seemed like hours as Sollux held him there with a single hand, the blood pooling down his face while his other eye glazed over from the pain.

Sollux pulled his hand away, wiping his hand clean on Mercuo’s face. Part of him ached as he saw Mercuo sobbing before him, hated himself and the situation he’d been forced into. That part of him grew quieter as he swiped a smear of violet blood from his cheek and flicked it onto the floor. “You have no right to call me by name.” He placed his hand on Mercuo’s other eye, ignoring the wail that resulted. “You were dead to me the moment you tried to escape.”

“You came up with the idea!”

Sollux glanced back at the camera at the other side of the room. “It never would’ve worked. When you two left without us I realized something.” He leaned in, his face an inch from Mercuo’s. He could smell the sweat and the panicked pheromones whirling around his head. “I’m better off here. They take trolls that are weak and turn them into something stronger. I don’t need to run for the rest of my life.”

“They broke you, Captor, and that’s the point.” Mercuo wheezed, flinching as Sollux pressed down on his eye. “They’ll break you so you can’t feel anything and what’s the point in calling yourself a troll anymore?”

Sollux snorted, and silently berated himself for betraying that emotional response. “They broke me down and built me up again and turned me into a weapon. I’m the one walking out of here alive today. If you give Trisia up, maybe she won’t suffer the same fate as you. I’ll give you one more chance before I take your other eye.”

Mercuo sniffled, starting to hiccup in terror. “Please, Sollux. Please.”

“You have two seconds.”

“I can’t I can’t, I’m so fucking pale for her, I can’t.” He spat then, purposeful and directly onto Sollux’s free hand.

That spelled the beginning of the end for Mercuo. Sollux blinded his other eye then, and after that Sollux tortured the seadweller for hours. They instructors had provided adrenaline, and Sollux forced Mercuo back from the brink more than a few times. He didn’t take a break, not even to grab a bite of the food that a wordless instructor brought in for him.

The process took a total of six hours. Six hours of hell, pushing this person-- who in another life, Sollux could have considered being actual friends with --to just shy of death. Every tool on that table ended up in use. Gills were dried with the blistering heat of the hair dryer. Mercuo’s wounded leg, torn free of its bandages, dunked into the vat of liquid nitrogen and then shattered off like glass. His fins, cut off and then cauterized with the blistering heat of Sollux’s psionics. The delicate filaments of his gills cut by a scalpel with precision, where the nerve bundles were greatest. Dry ice forced down his throat with no reprieve or water in sight. Every little bit of interrogation tricks he’d learned through the course shone through, applied meticulously to ensure that not only would Mercuo still be alive, but he would sorely regret that fact.

Clearly, it was all too much to bear. Mercuo sagged back against his chair, ruined eyes dripping blood onto the floor as his head lolled to the side, making him seem more of a corpse or a daywalker at best. “Kill me, please.” He took in a deep breath, coughing. “She entered in Alternian coords. Shhhekfk- gkgg- Found forums… They have a base down there. New heiress… she’s.. She’s coming. Feferi Peixes.”

Sollux’s ears flicked as he heard a soft beep, and looking to the camera he saw the light had gone green. Any residual guilt had leaked out of him at this point, and he felt nothing upon being given the implicit order to kill one of his dear friends.

No. Allowed. He was allowed the privilege of culling a traitor. 

Sollux put a hand to Mercuo’s chest, powering his psionics up to deadly levels and letting out a shock directly to the seadweller’s bloodpusher. Mercuo smiled right before he did so, croaking a ragged thanks before jerking once. Then he died, breath rattling and rasping to a stop.

Sollux felt nothing at all.

Sollux stepped out of the interrogation room, covered in violet blood and with his back straight. Rapard awaited him, arms folded behind him. He stopped Sollux dead in his tracks by smiling, honestly smiling, reaching out to grab Sollux by the shoulders.

“Nice work, recruit. You’re a natural.”