voidshift | [superhell pcs] thancred

[Even if he wasn't capable of stealth-following Ryn to the library after the farce of a trial concludes — which he is — it still would've been one of the first places he would've looked for him, regardless. Call it a hunch, or maybe just a familiarity with nerd elves and their habits.

Regardless, he looks quite unlike his usual self when he rolls in and seeks Ryn out — this certainly isn't the Thancred making jokes and quips at spin the bottle just days before. His eyes are dark, his demeanor moody and withdrawn.

Great company, in other words.]

I thought you might be headed this way.

[ryn is still in an awful mood, himself; he's not writing or reading anything in his notebook, just idly flipping through it, chin propped in his palm. the tendrils in his hair shift in a constant sort of mild agitation.]

Not for long, possibly. I'm considering moving to the-- what did they call it, dispensary. It might not be bloodthistle, but it'll do.

Mmm.

[No snarky remark today, it seems. Maybe he had one and he's just not in the mood.]

Bloodthistle?

Similar to... weed.

[he feels like he could use it.]

Ah.

[Well, to each their own. That's one recreational form of clouding his senses he's never much taken to, personally.]

I wonder if you'd spare me a quarter-bell. There's something I want to ask you. In private.

Is there?

[he turns his attention more fully to thancred, at that.]

Well-- you can ask, then.

[He's quiet a long time, then, before finally: ]

Did you believe what Bucky said, before they took him away? That there won't be enough invitations for the lot of us to stand a chance at this forthcoming drinking contest.

...I do. They said invitations had to be earned from the beginning; I wouldn't have thought we all would make the cut to try, even if they were unlimited.

That's been my suspicion as well. That we'd be observed, and the most compliant or most entertaining would be selected from the whole.

[.........]

There are children here. Two eliminated now. Both of them children.

[Bucky was twenty but hey that's still child enough in Thancred terms.]

He's not dead yet, at least.

[so. you know. maybe it won't be more murder?]

We'll see what's done with him.

If he's extended an automatic invitation for what he's done, it'll be worse chaos still.

If he is, then it's equal motivation not to do it. A copycat might be likely to get less favor from just... doing it because he did.

Nothing to do but wait and see, then. And moderate our expectations accordingly.

[.........]

Is anyone —

[Hm.]

Is there. Someone waiting for you, back in the land of the living? Someone you need to get back to.

[he's silent, for a few long moments, before he eventually shakes his head.]

Not... so specifically, no. I'd like to return to my people, but they're all equally important to me right now.

But if you're asking-- there is one for you. Isn't there?

No. No, there isn't.

[He sighs, and finds something to lean against. It feels better to lean, having a conversation like this. More natural. More withdrawn.]

Everyone the star needs is already still there. Or should be, at least.

Whether this 'star' needs them or not isn't really the same question.

[one long brow arches, along with that.]

Has anyone ever told you that you're too clever by half?

[How dare you make him explain himself when he's trying to be cool and self-sacrificing.]

All right, then. There isn't, because I wouldn't be able to look her in the eyes again if I took the chance at a resurrection away from someone else.

Of course they have, but I could always stand to hear it more.

[rynlan.

he's observing him as he answers, though; the tendrils appear to have calmed somewhat.]

So, if the number's true and there are more than twenty of us in the end, what are you going to do? Refuse to go if you get in? I don't think they'd let you hand an invitation off.

None of us are in a position to make any decisions without knowing more about the true particulars of this arrangement. Poor as the method was, Barnes thoroughly proved that earlier today.

[He shrugs.]

The question is, how do we find out?

I wonder. I haven't gotten that direct of an answer out of our demons, so-- what, did he ask exactly the right question to get information? How did he somehow find out a specific number of us would be able to make it? If none of the rest of us knew, then either something different happened or none of us managed to ask the right thing.

However he found out, it was enough to make him kill for it. He must've thought the source was credible.

[He ponders.]

Did you speak with him much at all, this past week?

Well... no. We've never really talked.

I spent some time with him at our little night out this past week. He approached me to play a game. We mutually remarked upon some things we had in common.

It's not much basis to go on, but he didn't strike me as the type to put undue stock in whims and ephemeral promises. I took him for more of a skeptic.

So you think that whatever information he had, he at least thought he wasn't just... being fucked with.

[The profanity actually seems to startle him out of his sour mood for a minute, blinking like he's actually been caught off-guard.]

...Precisely. Also, do that again.

w0, saturday (post-trial)

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