#then i kicked his ass and stole his halberd

[silverskye13]

Played Elden Ring for way too long tonight, but after beating about 6 bosses, I think I've finally proven to myself that I can play the game---

[cloudbattrolls]

> GLIESE: further discuss plans with Emerel.

The second installment of Let’s Discuss Kit’s Future Without Kit. Gliese and Emerel meet at the renaissance fair to talk business, just before Emerel and Hadean screw each other up.

> GLIESE

You finally found him. Stupid motherfucker, you think, grinning as you take a big running leap and land right next to the fence that separates the ring from the benches and cup your hands around your mouth. “EMEREL! ” He looks busy in a fight, though, so you just slide onto a bench and kick your feet. “Come on, beat this guy into paste so I can say hi to you properly, geez.” You call.

> EMEREL

Tellus is a tough one. You like fighting this guy. He gives you a hell of a challenge, even for an olive. As caught up in the fight as you are, you only vaguely register the sound of your name somewhere to your right. Your opponent, however, seems more curious about it than you are. When Tellus turns his head, you take the opportunity to sweep his legs with the butt of your halberd, kicking him hard out of the circle amongst much cheering from the crowd and swearing from him. You win again~ Laughing, you give him a hand up and a clap on the shoulder before you go to talk to Gliese who you've now spotted on the benches. "Thanks for the distraction, Gliese." You snicker, twirling your weapon once and resting it on your shoulder. "What's up?"

> GLIESE

You grin, tossing your hair with a jaunty shake of your head. He’s so damn tall, gangly motherfucker, him and Hadean alike. At least Pheres has the decency to be short like you. “You’re fucking welcome for saving the night.” You say, extra-lofty. You just barely manage to keep a straight face. “Not much. I dropped by Pheres’s booth, saw his choice of outfits - “ You stress the last word like you’re saying ‘blood sacrifices’ or ‘mutant support posters’. “ - and then decided I wanted to find you instead. Hadean texted me he got a SEADWELLER customer too, some old lady.”

> EMEREL

"I just don't know what I would have done without you!" You exclaim, putting your hand to your head like you're in a fucked up stage drama. "It would have been messy, let me tell you." You tap your fingers on the handle of your halberd, pleased with your own joke. "Oh, yeah. That." You cheeks fill with air and you turn away, laughing hard enough that you have to lean on your weapon for support. "I saw that!" The memory of it still fills you with a fun combination of cringe and hilarity. "I tried to give him fashion suggestions, but he said he looked just fine and needed to match Hadean. Speaking of, what IS Hadean even wearing?" Your eyebrows go up at the mention at an elderly seadweller and you whistle. "Wouldn't have expected old fish hags to come around here. That's new."

> GLIESE

You grin, wide and sharp, ears flicked straight up as you push your hands against the smooth brown surface of the bench, gripping it like you’re going to leap off. Maybe you will! “It’s okay, I accept your undying gratitude as payment.” You say, teasing him back. You laugh along with him - it’s infectious, Emerel’s brand of humor is so like yours, being around him is easy and relaxing. 

“Oh my god, why didn’t he listen to you, he’s such a fucking dork. I don’t know WHAT Hadean’s wearing, besides not much.” You snark. “I wanna know what that designer was smoking, I bet I could grow it and be rich as a fuchsia.” You shrug. “Yeah, wasn’t expecting to see an adult here. I mean, not that I’ve seen her and not that I WANT to, but still weird. Also…” You look around. No one’s paying too close attention to the pair of you - just another fighter and spectator. Still… “Do you have time to talk longer? I have stuff I want to tell you about…our last one-on-one chat.” You say, knowing he’ll understand.

> EMEREL

"He really is. Fuck that guy." You laugh again. You're still joking, of course. You love Pheres. You just think his fashion is horrible and have no idea why he's determined to get his ass kicked over his dumb as fuck wardrobe. "At the very least he could have worn a shirt that laced up instead of that...whatever the hell that is, I don't even know what what is." You bury your face in one hand, snorting. 

"If you find out, tell me and we can go into business together. We could both use the money. Though I'm not surprised about anything Pheres wears by this point. I've seen him in white fur suits and lace-ups. What the hell, Pheres." Oh, that was horrible. When she starts looking around, you frown. You know that body language. She's making sure nobody's listening, which gives you an idea of what's coming next. And when she asks if you can talk longer, you nod. You were expecting that. "Yeah." You lower your voice to a barely audible whisper on habit, looking around yourself. "My next event's not for a while yet. Come on, I know where it's quieter." You put your weapon away and gesture to her to follow you.

> GLIESE

“That, Em -” You say, pausing dramatically. “- is what we call a disaster in plainspeak. Also, did he really kill that animal himself? He said he did and I guess he could be more of a fighter than he looks but level with me here.” “HA, yeah.” You say. “Oh man, you have got to tell me about his other outfits, I wanna hear the horror stories.” Your ears flick, their large surfaces catching what he says just fine despite the drop in volume. You follow him, your own voice quiet. “I have good news and bad news, and…frustrating news.”

> EMEREL

"Not sure about that one. But he does taxidermy, so he probably stole the fur off some animal and wore it. He's not much of a fighter, trust me. He can battle in a pinch, but he'd sooner blind everyone to get out of there." You slap your knee, smirking. "There was the fuzzy poncho with red and green laces, the scarf actually made from wolf fur with the head still on it, all the white he wears. The guy is a walking fashion emergency." 

You're going to dress him properly one of these days. You will, damn it. Of course, that has to wait until after you talk to Gliese. You call out to your teammates, telling them you'll be back later so they don't come looking for you, leading her to a quiet gazebo way towards the edge of the property. It's kind of run down and there's no tents or attractions in this particular area, so there's nobody around right now. You sit yourself down on a rickety bench, gesturing for her to take a seat. "Good, bad, and frustrating. Let's hear the bad first." You're still whispering.

> GLIESE

“Pffft, yeah, that sounds probable.” Matari also loves taxidermy, god knows why. Maybe it’s some sort of weird rust thing. “Oh, what, are his psiionics a real light show?” You gape at him as he tells you about the clothing. “Oh my god…a scarf from wolf fur is cool, not going to lie, but WITH THE HEAD STILL ON? Sweet Empress.” The gazebo is nice, even if the area itself is kind of shabby. You don’t mind, really - your bony shoulders lower slightly as you relax a little. You sit down across from Emerel, biting your lip with a long fang, not hard enough to draw blood yet. “Bad news is, I don’t know everything about Kit’s implants.” You admit. 

It’s frustrating, but not terribly surprising. “I’ve found out some stuff, but the problem is, any general info about implants I could find is probably not exactly the same, especially factoring in different models and psi levels and junk.” It all gives you a pan-ache; you had no idea this shit was so complicated, and that was just from doing a little background research. There’s so much that could go wrong. It makes you wonder if you’re really doing the right thing, but you know anything - anything - is worth Kit not thinking he has to submit to cruel treatment for the rest of his life. “Kit’s told me some things, and the worst part of it is that the damn thing has a fleet tracker, so we have to be able to neutralize that, maybe even before we take it out.” You grind your fangs. It makes things so much harder.

> EMEREL

"Are you serious?" You groan, lifting your glasses onto your head and rubbing the bridge of your nose. You squint at Gliese through blurry vision, your pan going over every tactic or strategy or breakneck risk you can think of that might give the two of you the upper hand. "Alright, tell me everything you do know for sure. Maybe we can get some kind of an idea out of that." You rest your arms on the railings of the gazebo, chewing at your lip as you think. Shit, this is very bad. "How recent are Kit's implants? Are they close to yours? And-" You frown. "-Who were the previous Lepuses?" Is that a word? Who cares, she knows what you meant. "Do we know anyone with actual skills in maintaining ports. Or maybe a defector from your base itself? Someone there has to know something."

> GLIESE

“I’m sure as hell not telling you ‘cause I think it’d be funny.” You snort. You wish it were easy. And this is only part of the puzzle you have to solve; even once you work out how you’re getting the implants out and how best to deal with them, you have to figure out who’s doing it and how you’re going to even get away with it. God. You’d be going against the fleet itself, tampering with property… Does Kit count as property, since he has a port, even if only one? The idea makes you feel sick, and for reasons that make you uncomfortable about yourself…and some things you’ve said to him. 

Ugh. No need to get into that now. 

“I know his implants need periodic tune-ups. There might be some way we can use that. And aside from training, when they turn them down so he can use his psi, they stop him from doing much with his powers outside of that. As far as I know, there weren’t any before us, though how Leoffe even found out about us is a mystery to me.” You say, shrugging. “Maybe they just decided to use the first strong psychic cerulean they found.” “I told you before I don’t have any implants, doofus. Kit’s are so special they aren’t easily replicated, I think, plus they’re still testing them on him since he’s the first. No, I don’t know anyone with helm skills. I wish. And I decided I don’t want to ask Riccin; way too much of a security risk, they’d blab to the Empire in a heartbeat if they thought I was up to anything.”

> EMEREL

"If this was a bad joke, we'd be doing pretty good. Welcome to real life, where everything is a bitch." You put your glasses back, letting out a long sigh. This is probably the most dangerous thing you've ever been involved in and you're stressed to hell and back. If this gets fucked up, then Kit's done for. Gliese is done for, you think as you shoot your gaze back to her, chewing the inside of your mouth in thought. You're beyond done for. You don't even want to know what they'd do to you in particular. If they really want to fuck you both up, Pheres is probably done for too. It puts a cold, scared feeling in your chest and your fingers are trembling slightly just thinking about it. "Like a tune-up that conveniently shuts down the tracker? That might be doable. But we have to find someone who knows what they're doing with that first. We don't need to cause the guy permanent pan damage. Or spinal damage. Or whatever else damage might happen if that gets fucked the hell up. 

"Let's try making that our next plan: finding someone who knows more about port development than we do. I don't suppose we could pose as curious students and ask a manufacturer." That suggestion is more wishful thinking; you know it wouldn't work. "...Unless they'd had test subjects before." You say, your voice grim. "Usually, big projects off this aren't done on a whim, they're done on previous research. Which means they probably did have a pre-Lepus program of some kind where they did their testing." You pause. "I don't want to know what happened to whoever that poor sap was." You shake your head, tugging on your collar. You're freezing, but covered in sweat. It's a weird feeling and you just want to take a long shower right now. "Right, right. Excuse me for having a lot on my mind here." You stick your tongue out at her, crossing one leg over the other. "Do we at least know a good psionic blocker?"

> GLIESE

“I know what real life’s like, Emerel, it dragged me into the fleet by my ears.” You say, sighing along with him. What the hell are you two doing? It’d be worth it, but is it even possible? It has to be. You blink and your ears flip back to half-mast from drooping as he voices his idea. “Could be. Framing the helmstech would be tricky…unless we bribed them, which is definitely possible. It’d have to be pretty high if we wanted to ensure their silence, but it might be a risk worth taking.” You shake your head at his next question. 

“Yeah, and I doubt Prisma would answer us either, damn shame since they seem like they know a lot. I’ll just have to search my contacts.” You shrug at him. “Maybe? But I doubt those were ceruleans; those of with psi aren’t exactly a dime a dozen, and we’re uncommon anyway. They probably just used lowbloods with similar powers.” A pair of your skinny fingers flicks Emerel on the arm playfully. “Never. You will eternally live in disgrace.” The cheshire meowbeast would be hard-pressed to beat the grin spreading across your face. “Now, THERE I have good news - the base also trains plenty of lowblood psions, and obviously they have blockers around, so I just figured out what the best of their tech was and then got Dionna to buy a similar one for me with caegers, so they can’t trace it.”

> EMEREL

"What a world." You spit on the grass next to your bench, annoyed. The two of you are up against an absolute whirlpool of iron spikes and shit with no good way around it and no safe way in it. You really, really need to think hard. Gliese has the connections that you don't, so she must know something the two of you can do even if she doesn't realize it yet. All you have to do is keep pushing and picking her brain until something helpful comes forward. "That also leads us to the problem of the 'take the money and rat you out' kind. Bribery is good, but we have to make sure we're throwing money at someone who actually will be quiet if you pa them enough." You drum our fingers on the wood, noting the taste of blood in your mouth; you bit your cheek a bit too hard. "Something tells me that Prisma definitely doesn't fall under the buy him out category. Damn it.

Who's left in your contact list that would voluntarily do this without ratting us out or being a general liability?" "Still. If the project is really that old, there's probably old research on it. Even if Kit's new and improved in terms of tech, I bet the blueprints are somewhere. If we could just get our hands on them, we'd know what to do to get rid of them. But where would they be?" You look expectantly at Gliese, your face set in a frown. 

"And by that I mean, how well-guarded is the place?"You chuckle a bit when she hits your arm and it lightens the mood a bit. "I am now sufficiently disgraced. Excuse me while I exile myself to the isle of despair!" You say, dramatic, as you get up and make like you're going to throw yourself over the gazebo railing. You laugh as you take your seat again, feeling a bit better despite the knot in your chest. When she grins at you like she's got an idea, though, you lean forward, both eyebrows raised. This sounds promising. "Gliese," You say, rubbing your hands together as your eyes gleam. "I think we just had a breakthrough here. Do those blockers work on, say, blueblooded psionics?"

> GLIESE

“I know.” You mutter, staring at the ground, before raising your voice so he can hear you clearly. “But it’d be way more dangerous to sneak someone of our own into fleet staff, impersonation’s a risk we want to avoid unless we absolutely can’t. So bribery’s probably safer.” “I have Dionna, she’s down for this as long as I pay her, and my other good news is that her moirail bitched at me plenty but Ionole finally agreed as long as HE gets paid a good deal too. I can take care of those; a chunk of my stipend, but I’ll still have plenty left. You snort. Emerel’s not getting it; well, how can you blame him? 

“It’s not, to my knowledge. It’s just Leoffe’s thing, and you don’t know the fleet well, do you Em? Those blueprints will be digital-only, and on a lockdown so extreme that getting to them would be impossible. I bet they’re not even at the base. It’s a good thought, but we’d never manage it without a whole damn team of people, and I don't think I have to explain why that's a bad idea.” You make an amused noise at his response and then your eyes get wide, ears flicking up. “No reason they shouldn’t. Sure, the caste is different, but blockers aren’t like implants - it’s external tech meant to suppress all psiionic power, no matter what kind of troll it’s coming from.”

> EMEREL

"And the last thing we need is extra risk factor. Bribery it is. If you end up running low on cash from operation greased palms, let me know and I'll contribute what I can." So far, so good. It's at least a start. You want so badly to get Kit out of there and it feels like the whole damn world is trying to stop you. "I really wish we could just talk to Kit about this and get him to see it but...that's a hell of a task. I mean, we both know Kit. He'll curl up into himself the second you frown at him. Or at least that's what he does with me and Pheres. I don't know all the details of how he acts around you." You do know Gliese is tough on him, but you highly doubt it's as nasty as what Leoffe's been doing. 

"Well, I never said they'd be on paper. I was thinking digital blueprints, Gliese. I'm not an idiot." You touch your tongue to your fangs, making an 'uggggh' face at her. "If all else fails, I vote we drive a full ship into the side of the wall. It might land on Leoffe in the process and then all our problems are over." You hope she doesn't think you're serious on that one, even if crushing Leoffe with heavy objects does sound appealing. "Is this starting to feel like the plot of some fucked up movie or is that just me?" "Alright, next question." You lean forward on your knees, running your tongue over your fangs in anticipation. "Is there any way to attach that to Kit without having the tech team or Leoffe notice? Or at least keep it near him?" You tap your fingers together, continuing. "Would they take him off duty if his powers suddenly stopped working? Or...would that just make Leoffe angry?" You frown, that possibility just now coming to you.

> GLIESE

“Should be fine.” You say, shrugging. You still find it a bit ridiculous that Emerel’s so damn rich for a jade, but hey, as long as it helps. You laugh a little - he’s close, but not quite right. “I’d like to think he’s grown a little bit of a backbone since he first met me.” You say, grinning. “Sometimes he actually zings back at me when I give him shit. Progress is slow but there. He just always gets frustrated when I’m rude, but he doesn’t get it. He’s so soft-pumpered, I just know someone’s gonna use it against him and screw him over. So I figure if he gets used to me, it’ll help.” It’ll help. Won’t it? You’re doing the right thing. If he can object to you, surely he can learn to object to Leoffe… 

You mean like he has despite them being around him for sweeps? 

 You once again abruptly stop your internal dialogue. Emerel’s talking, you need to respond. “Yeah, even those would be impossible to get, or else, way too risky to try.” Then you bark laughter at him. “Great idea! Where’s the rebel hideout we’re gonna vanish to later, Em? Tell me, I want to pick the wallpaper.” You nudge him in the side. “This was already a fucked up movie plot. You’re the eye candy, and I’m the rugged protagonist, obviously.” You frown as you think. “Not while he was in the base, because it’d dampen the psi of everyone else near him too. I…” You hate saying it, but you don’t know, and it shows in the frustrated cast of your gritted teeth, the way your ears tilt almost all the way down. “I don’t know. I don’t know what the protocol is for that.”

> EMEREL

"Does he really?" You raise both eyebrows, grinning. You're quite glad to hear that. "He got sassy with me once, when-" When he informed you you didn't pop his rainbowdrinker cherry, to quote him. You cover your face, laughing at the thought. That's such a good memory and you will treasure it forever. "-Well it was pretty great, let me tell you." 

Does Gliese need to know you're a drinker and fed off her signmate? Nah. "Maybe that's the solution we should be going for. Just keep being tougher on him until he starts toughening himself up." That one is hard for you. You don't want to be tough on Kit, you want to coddle him. And you know it, as pathetically pitiable as that sounds. "We just...have to get him to adjust to the world and maybe it'll start bleeding through to the rest of him. If I catch anyone screwing with him because he's too nice..." You twitch your mouth to the side. 

"Another question. Do we know anybody really skilled in psychology? Because that might be the best thing we can do for Kit right now. There's got to be some kind of mental magic we can work here." "I don't know, I thought the ocean floor seemed like a nice place for it." You roll with her snark, waving a dramatic hand at her. "Everyone goes into space, but nobody thinks to hide right in the enemy's lair. It's the perfect plan, they'll never find us. And I was thinking old colonial for the wallpaper myself." 

You snort, knowing how silly this sounds. You do enjoy being ridiculous with Gliese, honestly. "No fair, the rugged protagonist always gets the best love interests. And the eye candy usually dies first. I am offended!" You huff, putting your hand to your forehead in mock offense. "Gliese...." You trail off, your face switching back to worry. "Find out what protocol is for that before we go any further. The last thing we want is them deciding Kit's power is gone and throwing him out the airlock or something because he knows too much."

> GLIESE

Your eyebrows contort into several interesting positions before you finally snort in amusement. “Well, good. Glad to know he’s got it in him.” Good to know he’s not incurably goody goody and boring all the way through. “Yeah. Like…” For some reason it’s difficult to say. Why do the words feel trapped in your throat? “He’s got to learn at some point.” Will he learn? Has he learned all these sweeps? Can you teach him? Does he need you at all? Of course he needs me! You fire back at this new, irritating voice in your head. I’m going to help him! I AM helping him! It’s not like Leoffe at all! 

“Yeah.” You agree more strongly. “I’d fuck up anyone who tried to fuck him up.” He’s yours. He’s yours and…and… You’re not like Leoffe. “I don’t think so. You mean like some kind of professional moirail or something? Nobody comes to mind.” You say, shrugging. You reach over to shove the much taller jadeblood jokingly, careful not to actually knock his lanky form over, and your tongue goes at him as well as you look up. “Old colonial? Boring , I was thinking, like, broken tridents and shit, going for that extra rebel aesthetic.” Then you grin, sitting back down on the bench as you kick your feet. “Haha, sucks to suck.” But your face darkens along with his, and you nod. “Yeah. I guess there’s not a lot more we can try to plan before then. I’ll figure it out.”

> EMEREL

"If we just keep up the pressure, it's got to sink in soon, right?" Your voice sounds a little breathless. It's not surprising; you're worried sick about Kit now. "I mean, it takes time to undo things when you've been stuck with them your whole life." You rest your elbows on your knees, setting your chin on your hand. "And this is pretty much his whole life by this point." That sickens you. Can everything that worries you about Kit really be traced back to fucking Leoffe? Motherfucker. "Count me in. We can double team it and smash some skulls in." You crack your knuckles then your neck, your tone threatening. 

"But at this rate, I think pooling our resources to find someone who knows how to make subconscious stuff tick is going to be the safest route for Kit and the most cost effective one for us. It doesn't have to be a professional moirail, just somebody's who's good at that shit. Plus, I'm sure it's easier to find than someone skilled in port tech." You shove her back, sticking your tongue out at her, the mood temporarily lightened. "No, no. We need rusty anchors. That's definitely how you hit that extra rebel aesthetic. Rusty anchors and maybe some spray paint. Spray paint is cool, right?" Hell yes it's cool. "So for now, you look into that, I'll look into rebel base decor, and we'll both keep an eye out for a competent psychologist or something." What other choice do you have?

> GLIESE

“What, don’t you trust in my incredible talents?” You say, managing a smirk. You’ve ash-leafed before, how is this any different? Emerel doesn’t need to know your doubts. He’s your friend, but…that’s moirail business. And you don’t even have one. Your ears lower a bit, though, and you become more thoughtful. “Well, his life’s been different ever since I got there.” You say, and for once you’re not boastful - it’s a fact. “I bet I can change things.” “Maybe not easier to find, but less dangerous to deal with.” You retort dryly. He’s definitely right about cost, though. You grin as he pushes you back, amused at how he has to bend down slightly to do it. Being short can be useful. “Spray paint is DEFINITELY cool.” You declare. “Though if we’re going that route, I’m making graffiti murals, sorry, non-negotiable.” “Yeah. Sounds good. Have a good fight, Em.” You say, stepping away but waving goodbye to him as you do. 

You have a lot to think about.