Chapter XXVII: Indelible Ink
* * * * * *
“Yeah, everyone knows it. Still,
It’s not like we’ll say it, girl.
Just who do you think we are?
It’s never
As simple
as a tree that grows tall.
That’s misunderstanding what we are.
She’ll never
return to the farm
and party away your broken heart.”
— “Indelible Ink,” by Tsyolin and SoGreatandPowerful
* * * * * *
It had been a long two years, and Proximo often wondered just how much it had changed him. Before he had died in that duel, he hadn’t lived for anything but himself—a man who would sleepwalk through life, dancing from one pleasure to the next, never caring who he hurt that was close to him. Now that he had a scar across his chest, he was a man of his own right, and one willing serve something greater. Having friends in this world other than drink and drugs and blood would surely have made him a better man, he had always hoped.
His sister, at least, had not changed at all. Gallia Hart sat in front of him, unaltered down to her dress and hair. She looked at him and Violet askance, as though only half-paying attention as she idly twirled a green bang around a long finger.
Gallia gave a sly smile. “I’ve come a long way, Proxi. I hope you’ll allow me the introduction of your… friend, is it?” She looked Lady Violet up and down as she laid the emphasis on ‘friend.’ “Assuming you haven’t forgotten all the courtesies I taught you, that is.”
Proximo tried his best to maintain his calm. “Lady Violet Brushshape, the Warden of Generosity. A servant of Faust and Thiesson and the Brony Collective. And yes, my friend as well.”
Violet bowed, offering a cordial smile to Gallia. “To meet the heir of Hartshold is no small honor, my lady,” she said with her usual poise, “and on a more personal note, it is wonderful to meet some of my assistant’s family, at last. Proximo has often spoken of you.”
Gallia gave a lethargic smile. “Oh really? Is that true, Proxi? Have you been saying sweet things about your dear sister all this time?” She rested her chin on one of her hands, looking at her brother with her eyes half-closed, as though about to fall asleep. “It’s flattering to know you’ve kept me in your good graces. I’d truly worried that we might have grown estranged, after two years. How silly of me.”
“Why are you here?” Proximo asked, tired of dancing around the issue.
She yawned. “Oh, shopping for husbands. The ordinary thing that young heiresses tend to do, when visiting other noble houses.”
“A husband?” Proximo cocked an eyebrow. “For you?”
Gallia shrugged, nonplussed. “Biology, sadly, seems to have failed me. Unless, of course, you have another method of producing more Harts that can inherit our beloved home.”
“I’m sure I could other a few delightful suggestions,” Withins-Bei added obsequiously. The swaying lordling was enjoying the reunion too much by half, Proximo thought. “I am afraid marriage is quite off the table with me, however. Apologies for breaking hearts and Harts,” he said with a smug smile, “but a lifetime with me is a punishment I wouldn’t inflict.”
“Yes, you truly are an odious little toad, Withins-Bei,” Gallia replied, mimicking his grin with a thin smile of her own. “And not one that’s likely to turn into a prince, either. You don’t know any princes, do you Proxi? I imagine you’re well-traveled now, being an assistant and all.”
“Enough of this,” Proximo cut in impatiently. Banter and japes from his sister were the last things he needed right now. His friends were lying in sick beds downstairs, he had barely survived an attempt on his life, and the lives of two other men were hanging in the balance. Smart remarks were not going to fix anything. “Why are you really here? And don’t say husband-hunting; you have another reason for showing up now of all times, and you must think I am an idiot to believe that there isn’t.”
“Guilty on both counts, I’m afraid,” Gallia replied with a prolonged sigh. “You might have at least played along, though. Are there no eligible bachelors in this Palace? Perhaps I was invited here to court Arcadio, seeing that he’s yet to take a lady wife.”
Proximo gagged at the thought of it. Violet apparently thought the same. “With due respect, Lady Hart, I would advise against it. You might be joking, but I would not wish Arcadio Martes on anyone.”
“Then you clearly haven’t known me long enough, Lady Violet,” Gallia replied with a smirk.
“If you aren’t going to get to the point,” Proximo cut in, “then I have more important things to attend to, Gallia. How did you even know I was here?”
His sister rolled her eyes slowly. “And here I had thought you were trying to reform your old, impatient self. Very well, Proxi. Your little club has their own intrigues, I’m sure, so it won’t surprise you when I say that I have sources of my own—”
“She is, of course, referring to me,” Withins-Bei interrupted, giving a smirk to Proximo.
“Thank you, Withins-Bei. This is exactly why no one will ever stoop low enough to marry you. At any rate,” Gallia continued, “I’ll have you know that the pile of walking filth that just spoke is hardly the only one who’s taken an interest here. The Chamber has been most keen to know more about this little… development, let’s say. And when I heard little whispers that suggested that a certain baby brother of mine would be here, I thought I’d pop by for a chat. I’m sure you can spare your own blood that much, can you not?” Gallia stuck out a pouty lip, and pretended to get teary-eyed.
Proximo contemplated talking his way out of it, then sighed. “My lady,” he said to Violet, “would you mind very much if I…”
“There’s no need to even ask, Proximo,” Violet replied, putting a supportive hand on his shoulder. “I need to check on our friends, but take whatever time you need. You’ll know where to find me, once you’re finished.” She gave a bow to Gallia. “It was an honor meeting you, Lady Hart—hopefully we have a better chance to meet another time.”
Gallia waited until Lady Violet had left before speaking again. “I certainly wouldn’t mind a better chance to meet either. She is quite beautiful, isn’t she, Proxi?”
Proximo ignored her, and took hold of a chair. “You wanted to talk?” He sat himself down next to her her, eager to be done with the meeting. “Talk, then.”
“Excitable as always. Very well.” She leaned back in her chair, tracing a long fingernail in a circle on the table. “You’ve been away from home a long time, Proximo. Father hopes that you will return to Hartshold, provided that I give you the invitation. Which I am, right as we speak.”
Proximo looked at her, not knowing how to respond. The words caught in his mouth. “Father wants me home?”
“Mmm-hmm. He hopes that two years away has graced you with some perspective on things. The value of family, for instance.”
He turned the thought over in his mind, picking it apart. Proximo tried to recall when he had last seen his father, and seen Hartshold. There he was, standing in the lobby, in front of the door. He had already said goodbye to Aloysia and Gallia, and was halfway out into the world, with every worldly thing he still wanted to keep by his side, just in case. Father was behind him, watching him leave. ‘I can see who you care for more,’ he had said coldly. 'Join your friends, then. And do not return. Proximo recalled those words easily—they had been echoing in his mind for two years.
And now he was wanted back.
Proximo ran a hand through his hair, trying to compose himself. “He didn’t seem so enthusiastic two years ago,” he said, trying to feign nonchalance.
“Well, you two had a bit of a row, if you remember. He wasn’t the one that left.”
“I couldn’t stay, Gallia.”
“You could, as a matter of fact. It would have been as easy as not walking out the door, and somehow I manage to do that every day.”
“And do what?” Proximo demanded. “Go back to how I was? A bloodthirsty brat? Without a care in the world for anyone but myself? Do you remember how I was?”
She sighed. “Yes. You truly were a pain.”
“We agree on that much. You and father wanted me to change, didn’t you? You wanted me to start caring again, and be useful? Now I am. This is what that looks like, me being here with my friends.” Proximo rested his head back, and stared off at the wall. “I never had friends before, Gallia.”
She looked at him absently. “Yes, well, that’s all well and good. But if you’re finished acting out against the family, you should come back with me.”
Proximo’s face twisted. “That’s what you think this is, isn’t it? All of it some childish way to spite you?”
“Clearly,” she yawned. “Father was very adamant about all this, Proxi. What will it take for me to sway you back, hmm? I’ll steal your luggage, if I must.”
Proximo stood up. “Goodbye, Gallia. I’ll see you in another two years.” He walked for the door.
He was stopped by the Warden of Honesty appearing before him, blocking his way. Proximo looked up and caught the giant’s single eye, as the Warden scanned the room silently. He was still covered in blood from the assassins he had killed, near a dozen people’s worth of gore—an arresting sight, to say the least.
Gallia raised her eyebrows at his appearance. “What in God’s name is that thing?”
The Warden of Honesty ignored her. “Other friends returned,” he said to Proximo. “Lady Violet with injured?”
“Good Lord, Proximo, do you know this creature?”
“Yes, my lord,” Proximo replied to the Warden, also ignoring his sister. “I was about to join her, as a matter of fact.”
The Warden glanced at Gallia, then to Proximo. He nodded. “Hrm,” he grunted in response, before turning away.
Proximo went to follow him, but lingered at the door. He turned his head back to Gallia. “How is Aly?” he asked.
Gallia tilted her head. “She’s well. She does miss her brother, though.”
He let out a breath. “Tell her I miss her too.”
“You can tell her yourself, Proxi.”
Proximo did not answer. He left his sister behind and walked away.
Walking along a narrow hallway on his way to join Lady Violet, Proximo found Withins-Bei leaning against a wall. “So, how did the happy reunion go?” he asked with a smile.
“Was there a reason you felt the need to do that?” Proximo asked, eyes narrowing at the lordling.
“Do what, invite your sister here?” Withins-Bei asked innocently. “Perhaps it’s my good deed for the day, being a man of singular virtue and all. Perhaps I hate seeing a family torn apart by tide and time. Perhaps, after seeing the sheer gymnastics you were going to in concealing yourself, I just couldn’t resist poking a hole in that effort. Feel free to interpret as you will, chum.”
Proximo rolled his eyes and walked along, Withins-Bei trailing behind like a lost duckling. Proximo was surprised to find that the Warden of Honesty was waiting for him, standing stock-still in the hall and looking at him expectantly. “Coming?” the Warden asked.
“I am,” Proximo answered warily. He did not terribly relish having to accompany the Warden anywhere, seeing that he had only just seen him carve through near a dozen people. “I did not think you would wait for me, my lord.”
“Not leaving people alone again today,” the Warden said, voice flat.
Proximo and the Warden walked together in silence, with Withins-Bei following closely behind. After a time, the Warden spoke again. “Your sister?” he asked, his eye staring forward.
Proximo looked up at the giant askance, unaware that the Warden even knew that he had a sister. “Yes,” he admitted. There was a long pause. “We don’t get along.”
“Hrm.”
Withins-Bei hopped alongside them. “Oh, but it was such a touching scene! Tears were in every eye, I swear. If only you were there, my lord—but I’m sure you were off murdering more people, hmm?”
“No,” the Warden replied, paying little attention to the lordling, “crowds largely dispersed from our path. Regrouped without incident.”
“Tell me,” Withins-Bei continued, “do you know that your dear friend was a relation of the Harts of Hartshold, of Lord Theostinian in fact?”
“Yes.”
“It’s strange how often we’re defined by the things we shut away, isn’t it?” Withins-Bei mused idly, adopting a pseudo-scholarly affectation to his voice. “I wonder then: what is it that you are hiding, too-tall?”
“Nothing,” the Warden replied immediately, still not looking at the diminutive lordling as they walked.
“Oh, you’re too interesting for me to believe that, my lord.” He gave an unbearably smug smile. “I’ve been unable to sleep on account of your appearance, you know. The curiosity plagues me night and day. Women are cruel creatures, but none would be so monstrous as to name a son ‘Warden of Honesty.’ What name were you born with, truly?”
“This one has no name.”
“Pish-posh. Everyone has a name. One might call it discourteous to refuse giving it, after all,” he said unctuously. “You have me such a severe disadvantage. You already know my name, do you not? I am Withins-Bei.”
“No, you are not,” the Warden said. He finally looked down at the man, golden eye locked on.
Withins-Bei stared back, confused. For the first time, he did not seem to know what to say. After a moment of hesitation, he tried to shrug it away. “Well,” he said, feigning nonchalance, “I can see I’m not wanted here. I’ll go assuage my loneliness elsewhere.” He turned about and left swiftly, not offering another word.
Proximo watched him leave, curious. “What in the Web was that all about?” he asked, before they continued walking.
“That one is a fool,” the Warden replied, paying little mind to what just happened. “Thinks names are definitions.” The Warden’s mouth was pressed flat, his brow furrowed in disapproval. “Ignorant. Does not understand friendship. Insults people, pushes them away. That way he does not need to care. That way he is never hurt. Never hurt like he was before.”
Proximo did not know what to make of those words. The two continued on their way in silence.
In truth, Proximo had no idea what to think of the Warden now, after all that he had seen. The giant was still the man who had threatened a helpless diplomat without hesitation, but had just saved his life, and those of his friends, the same way. Proximo had never been so glad to have had the Warden arrive as when they had been surrounded by a dozen assassins, but there was something about it that still unnerved him greatly. He had seen the Warden cut through those men savagely, rending them apart limb from limb, and yet the Warden himself did not seem at all affected by it. They were lives taken without a second thought, with no more emotion shown for the deed than for swatting a housefly. It made for a strange intermingling of gratitude and horror in Proximo’s heart.
After a time, they arrived at the barracks, where the injured were located. The whole room was in a whirlwind—several people in butter-yellow uniforms, others in white, circling around as they attended to those around them frantically. The beds were filled with wounded people, some patients more grievously injured than others. Several were sitting upright, wincing while their arms or legs or faces were bandaged up. Others were lying still.
One of those unconscious he recognized immediately, though only barely. Proximo gasped when he saw the man lying, insensible, in the sick bed. “Dustario?” Proximo whispered in shock.
Dustario had been wearing civilian clothes, that much was certain. Most of those on his torso had been stripped off, however, and what remained was drenched in blood. Several wounds lay open and weeping on his body, but his face was worst of all. There were cuts on the left side of his head, but it was nothing compared to what happened to the right of his face: deep, gouging scrapes all across from ear to nose. Someone had covered them as best as they could with linen wraps, but the ruin of Dustario’s once-handsome face had seeped the white bandages red and wet to the point of uselessness.
Proximo rushed over immediately, covering his mouth in horror at the sight. He remembered all the times he’d had with Dustario, his friend: the one always smiling, joking, flirting, forever the life of the party. Proximo couldn’t even imagine how Dustario would react upon waking up, and seeing what had happened.
If he ever wakes up, came an unwanted thought. Proximo shook away the doubt… but it festered all the same.
Though he was no expert in medicine, Proximo could see that the bandages on Dustario’s face were slipping off from the sheer volume of blood, and tried his best to find replacements: Kind Friends were whirling around, trying to tend to as many as possible, but it was clear that they needed more hands. Proximo padded around frantically for more linens—he would tear off a chunk of his own clothes if he had to. Turning back around, however, he saw someone else had taken over for him.
A very pale woman was removing the spent bandages from Dustario’s face with surgical precision, caring little about the blood getting on her hands. There was blood on many other parts of her as well: multiple stains seeped into her uniform. She had covered much of it with an apron, but Proximo could see the white and black of a Peacekeeper’s habit still standing out. Proximo had never met this one, but evidently she was a part of the Moderator team.
She appeared to notice Proximo standing there. “Your friend is badly injured,” she said blandly, as though it were not clear to anyone else. “Provided that the infection is countered early, a recovery is entirely possible. I promise nothing.” She reached for a new bandage, before she finished peeling off the old one.
Proximo looked at Dustario, worried. That same doubt remained in his mind, and no assurances were likely to make it fade early. He breathed deep, and immediately regretted it. The air was thick with sweat, sick, and an unpleasant copperish smell that he recognized all too well. He remembered the time he had spent in a bed much like this one: all but dead, a huge red slash across his chest, passing in and out of consciousness for days, locked on his death-bed for weeks. People did not return from such an experience unchanged.
The woman removed the bandages from Dustario’s face entirely, putting the sticky scarlet things aside. The sight was even worse than Proximo had thought, and he had to turn away from looking. The Peacekeeper woman, however, had no such qualms. She turned Dustario’s unconscious face over to his side, examining it closely and expressionlessly. “Hmm,” she mused, “wounds of such character. I remember his face. It was very complete, before,” she said as she inspected it with unblinking fascination. Gently, she replaced the linens with new ones, complete with a balm rubbed in for good measure. She tilted her head at the work. “He has a hair out of place now,” she said, sounding distant as she looked over Dustario.
Proximo was grateful for this person tending to his friends, but couldn’t help but feel somewhat uneasy about her. Her voice and manner—so flat, plain, without happiness or sadness alike—set him oddly at edge. “I’m not sure we’ve met before,” he said. “My name is Proximo Hart, Assistant Warden of Generosity. Miss…?”
“I didn’t miss,” the woman replied, still not looking at Proximo as she spoke.
Before Proximo could explain himself, he noticed that Lady Violet had appeared at his side. The Warden of Honesty was off somewhere, attending to others.
A silent look was all it took to convey how she felt about the friend laid out in front of them. Proximo could already see the grief of the day wearing heavily on Violet, in a way that she didn’t dare show to anyone else.
“When will he wake?” Lady Violet asked the Peacekeeper woman.
“Difficult to determine,” she replied, still inspecting her handiwork. “The sedative will decide it. Perhaps within the day.”
Violet took the news, nodding her head slowly. Proximo could see the same worries that he had had written on her face as well. Violet looked down at the woman, who was finishing her work on Dustario. “If I am not mistaken, you are one of Lord Halforth’s staffers. Miss Abigail Cawtler, I presume? I have heard nothing but good things about your expertise.”
The peacekeeper gave a small, almost shy smile at the praise. Lady Violet continued. “I am certain our friends are in good hands with you. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for your help.” Violet offered a bow.
Abigail tilted her head at the gesture, then returned it. “I’ll do everything I can,” she replied. Her manner in giving assurance was awkward, but Proximo thought it sincere as well. Abigail departed right after to continue with other patients.
Violet gave another lingering look at Dustario, then turned to her assistant. “Come, we should see to the others.”
The rest of the group that had been trapped in the city were in better shape than Dustario, at least, but not always by much. Hadrena and Rosesoul were largely unharmed, save for a few cuts and scrapes that did not deter the two from seeing to the injured, but nearly everyone else carried wounds of some kind. Both Jayson and Prim had cracked ribs, and Caymen had some manner of concussion that by all accounts should had made him pass out prior to reaching the Palace, countered by sheer force of will alone.
They had found Donnet lying down, nursing a black eye under his glasses. He cracked open his one good eye when he saw them approach. “ ‘Ey, m’lady,” he said with a weary smile. “Glad to be spottin’ ya again. Thought I might not, fer a sad minute there.”
“I can’t tell you how happy I am to see all of you, as well. If someone had been killed…” Violet breathed out slowly. Smoothing out her scarlet dress, she sat at Donnet’s side. “Do you know how everyone else is?”
Donnet lifted an arm and flicked at his spectacles, changing the color of one lens to pink and the other to saffron. The latter one was cracked, but he did not seem to mind. “Most-like. Lot are no worse-off than lil’ ‘ol me, but the Honest Eyes,” he said with a jut of his chin towards the other side of the room, “took a lot to get us home-side.”
Proximo looked over to see the three Honest Eyes together, each with wounds of their own. Kriseroff had at least half a dozen bandages covering various parts of him as he snored in bed, while Strongshield was seething over a cut across her head and a wound in her shoulder. Red Autumn had a bandage going up and down on his face and another long one across his side, and was either sleeping or just resting his eyes. Either way, Proximo saw Daria Faust next to him, holding Red’s hand with a worried expression. Next to the Honest Eyes, he saw Theosyrius talking in a panic to a medic, though he only appeared to have a scraped knee.
“And you, Donnet?” Lady Violet asked. “How are you faring?”
Donnet waved a hand. “All fine, m’lady. Really, I shouldn’t even be on my back. Just doin’ it to make them Kindlies feel at ease.” He chuckled, then cringed and gripped his side—Proximo suspected that he might be nursing more injuries than he claimed.
Before they spoke further, a familiar presence came thundering towards them. “Clear a path, clear a path! Six save me, would you just look at the state of this…”
Proximo saw Caleb Mathet speeding towards them at a lightning pace that he would not have thought the portly man capable off, white cape fluttering behind him as he pressed towards them. “My lady, my friends,” he said panting, “I came the very moment I was informed. Six save us all, are you alright, dear Donnet?”
Donnet shrugged. “Honestly? Ain’t been the worst scrap I’ve gotten into. Ain’t even the worst under the Summer Sun, neither.”
Several other Bronies were streaming in as well, eager to see the injured, but Caleb paid them little mind. “And you, my lady,” he said, taking her hand in his. “My heart nearly stopped when I heard that you were caught out in all this. Praise the Six you are unharmed. But what of the others?”
“There are many injuries,” Violet admitted, patting Caleb’s hand. “Some more severe than others, I am sad to say. We’re lucky to have medical staff on hand. Skylark and Mattieu have been working feverishly, by all accounts, and Rosesoul with them.”
Caleb’s face screwed up. “How in the wide, wide, Web did this even happen? A mob, they say? How did they find all of you?”
It was a question on everyone’s mind, Proximo included. “The ones that came for us knew exactly who we were ahead of time,” he said with a look to Donnet and Violet. “This was preplanned, without a doubt.”
“No contraries from me,” agreed Donnet. “There must have been at least three dozen people or more after us, and they were well-equipped besides. T’weren’t no ‘random mob’ or whate’er else the dee-dubs wanna call it.”
“True,” said a gruff voice from behind. The Warden of Honesty had reappeared, looming over them. “Group able to identify Lady Violet immediately. Possession of swords, spears. Authority repeaters.”
“Auth—” Caleb sputtered in disbelief. “This was assassination! An outrage, a perfect bloody outrage!” he said, pounding a fist into his hand as emphasis. “My lady, I am not one for idle speculation, but we all know whose fingerprints are covering every inch of this dirty scheme. How else could these fiends get their hands on such things if they were not being equipped by a source? A wealthy source, with local ties and a reason to be rid of us?”
“We must take this to the Lord Moderator immediately,” Proximo said to Violet.
Donnet snorted. “Mods don’t care ‘bout us, Proxi. ‘Sides, we’re handlin’ no proof for any accusation we might say. The Martes have deniability, and that’ll be enough.”
“Not for long, they don’t,” Lady Violet said coldly. “Gentlemen, I refuse, categorically, to leave this island without the person responsible for hurting my friends in chains. We will have proof, even if it means tearing this wretched city apart to find it. The ones guilty for this plot will be weeping once this affair is through, I promise you that much.”
Before Proximo could voice his approval, he heard a groan. Looking around, he saw a familiar figure: a round, plain face with red hair. Sir Coin Counter was lying unconscious, a hearty wrapping over his shoulder and a bruise on his temple.
“Oh no,” Proximo said. “How has Sir Coin fared?”
“You’d have t’ask one o’ the Kind Friends fer a prognosis, but he took a crossbow bolt right in t’shoulder. ‘E’s lucky we got ‘elp, else ‘e mighta been cut apart.”
“I’ll have to return to check on him once he wakes,” Lady Violet affirmed. “He has come too far and done too much for us to be left alone.”
There was the sound of commotion coming from the entrance to the room. Proximo heard the voice of Jorama, crisp and commanding over the sick-beds.
“I must be asking you to leave now, miss,” Jorama said firmly. “Off limits to outsiders.”
Another woman was arguing back. “Please, I just want to be sure of what happened. Are the—”
Proximo knew that voice immediately. “Imelia?” he called.
He went over and saw Imelia, looking frantic as Jorama tried to block her path. “At ease, friend,” Proximo said to his honest friend, “she’s with us.”
Jorama stepped aside, and allowed Imelia to rush in. She came to him immediately, and braced him in a tight hug. “Proximo!” she said, looking him over for injuries. “I came as soon as I heard. Are you OK? Oh God, I had thought maybe…”
“I’m fine, Imelia,” Proximo consoled her. “A little shaken, but none the worse for wear. But how are you? There are rioters all over the city, I heard—your grandmother and you, did they…”
She breathed a sigh of relief. “No, the Mods started clearing the streets before they could reach High-Hill. We’re both fine, but God! Half the city was burning when I last saw it, and I have no idea what’s happening at the docks—the city watch is trying to push back the crowds, but there’s no way it won’t be messy. How could this happen?”
“We have our suspicions,” said Proximo with a meaningful look.
Lady Violet appeared behind him, and went to greet Imelia. “Well, well, Proximo, you didn’t say we might have guests!” She gave a bow. “Lady Violet Brushshape, Warden of Generosity. And you must be Imelia Kohburn, the young woman I’ve heard so much about. I’m much in your debt, my lady, for the kind aid you’ve given the fandom in these times.” Violet offered an apologetic smile. “I only wish we might have met under better circumstances—as you can see, we are facing certain difficulties.”
“I’m sorry for intruding,” Imelia said hastily, “but when I heard what happened I wanted to make sure that—”
“Say no more, my lady—it requires no apology at all,” Violet reassured her. “As it stands, you are the only person thus far who has come to see us, save for those ordered to be here. I consider that an honor on our part. And let me just say,” she said with a smile, “that I simply love what you’ve done with your bangs.”
“Oh! Um, thank you,” Imelia said, blushing as she touched her hair lightly. Her eyes went wide, however, when she saw the Warden of Honesty lurking behind Violet.
Lady Violet continued with the same cheerful manner she would treat any guest—regardless of the circumstances she had been in previously. “I daresay that you and I should spend more time together, Miss Kohburn—I think we are bound to get along famously. I do wonder, though,” she continued, giving a look to Proximo, “if you might be able to help us with our current predicament. You’ve already done so much, but for Proximo and me…”
“Of course!” Imelia answered immediately. “Please, just tell me what you need.”
Violet gave a pleased smile. “Very well then. Our aim, Miss Kohburn, is proof.”
She offered an explanation of all that had happened in the streets, the people that had confronted them, and what they had said. Imelia’s eyes went wide as she listened. “Arcadio,” she spat. “It was all him, it had to have been.”
“That is our suspicion as well,” Proximo nodded.
“But only suspicion, you see,” Violet added. “Without actual evidence, we have no way of convincing the Lord Moderator.”
“You need proof?” Imelia said, chewing on the thought. “Well, I can see what I’ll find. My friend in the guards might know enough about this to help. What exactly would you want to see?”
“Any trace of an order being given by the Martes to send their goons after us. Written proof, or a guard willing to testify to it.”
Imelia mused on the idea. “That might be difficult. Arcadio is careful to plug leaks, when he can find them. I’ll see what I can do, but perhaps…” She thought it over a moment, then spoke up in inspiration. “What about financials? If the Martes were stockpiling weapons, and then those arms disappeared during the riot, that would be call for suspicion, certainly.”
Violet blinked. “Actually, that would be an excellent idea.”
“Do you have anyone that could parse through it?” asked Imelia.
She smiled. “I believe I have just the man for the task. I’ll ask that such records be turned over to us: the Moderators will have to grant us that, at least. And if you should find some leads within the guards themselves…”
“Then I will see it goes to Proximo,” replied Imelia with a nod. She turned to Proximo himself. “Perhaps we could meet again soon?” she said bashfully. “For the information, I mean.”
“Certainly,” said Proximo, “you need only seek me out.”
Imelia nodded. “I’ll get to it, then.” She offered a parting bow to Lady Violet. “It was an honor meeting you, my lady. Hopefully I can help more.”
“I have no doubt you will,” replied Violet.
Imelia departed swiftly, leaving the Bronies amongst themselves again. Violet turned to Proximo with an enigmatic look.
“Well well, Proximo, she is quite lovely,” she teased with a light push to his shoulder. “Should I be worried?”
Proximo rolled his eyes. “Jayson and the others I can understand, but you too? I don’t see why people feel the need to joke about this every time.”
Violet raised an eyebrow. “It’s only half a joke, Proximo. She’s really quite taken with you, you know. You must have realized that.”
Proximo waved a hand. “You’re imagining things,” he said.
“She is not,” grumbled the Warden of Honesty. “It is very obvious,” he said pointedly.
He looked at the expectant stares from both of the Wardens, and suddenly found it difficult to deny that he might have noticed it himself. “Oh dear,” he sighed, weighing the realization. Imi…
“Mmm-hmm. And here I truly thought I was the only woman for you, Proxi.”
“This…” Proximo said sadly. “This was not what I had intended.” The thought was pressing down on him considerably. He thought back to when he and Imelia had spoken before: he had seen it there, in only the slight expressions, or the quickest words, but he had pushed suspicions like that to the back of his mind. Denial, they called it.
“And all those late night flirtations!” Lady Violet continued to tease. “Oh, you led me astray in only the most beastly way, Mister Hart, I’d never thought you to be such a tease—”
“My lady,” Proximo said while cupping his face with a hand, trying to think clearly, “I don’t find this funny.”
Violet stopped right away, looking sheepish. “Sorry, Proximo,” she said with a hand on his arm, “I truly didn’t…”
Proximo shook his head. “It isn’t that. My lady, when I helped Imelia during the hospitality ball, I did it because it was right, not because I had expected some reward for it. And never, never, did I expect this because of it.”
Violet tried to reassure him. “If you should want to talk about this…”
“I may have to take you up on that, my lady,” Proximo said weakly. “But we have more important things to deal with now than my problems,” he added with a look around the room.
Violet looked as if she might have protested further, but instead nodded, and they proceeded back to work.
As they saw to more of the injured, Proximo found it hard to concentrate on the task at hand, his mind drifting back again and again to a very different problem.
It was flattering, but that did not make it right. Imelia had been put through experiences that Proximo would not wish on anyone, with her life turned upside down by pregnancy and her old friends long disappeared. Left alone, with an infirm grandmother to care for, and without a helpful person remaining, and nothing to comfort her besides loneliness and grief.
Until, that is, Proximo walked in. One act of kindness, at her lowest point, and without even meaning for it to happen he had swept her away, even if it was only for a moment.
It was flattering… but that did not make it true.
Imelia was lovely and kind and deserved far better than what she had, Proximo knew. But at the same time… at the same time… He shook his head. Six save me, what am I going to do? Am I meant to tear even the slightest hope away from her?
As he thought about that terrible possibility, an even worse fear came to mind. Some time ago, Theosyrius had recommended that they use what good-will Proximo had built with Imelia to use her for their cause. It was a plan Proximo had rejected, until Imelia herself had offered her help. What Proximo feared most was emotionally extorting someone, manipulating honest feelings for dishonest means. He thought he had avoided that, but now…
Am I using her? Proximo thought, horrified. Exploiting how she feels, leading her along for the sake of our cause? He had never meant it that way at all, but if she thought he felt the same way, was that why she had joined him from the start? Was she breaking with everything she knew and helping him because she believed—because he had let her believe—that it was for love?
The thought that he might have been manipulating an innocent woman, even unintentionally, made him sick to his stomach. That he might have to hurt her further by snatching that hope away scarcely made him feel better. And that wasn’t even the furthest depth of his doubts.
Using people. Feigning love and feeling and affection. Getting what I want, and then leaving broken things behind, he thought miserably. This is exactly something I would have done long ago, before the duel, before the Friends. Proximo had always hoped that he had changed, but…
Have I really changed at all?
* * * * * *
“With Madelin Wright’s army having taken up their command in black Baysmouth and the nascent Honest Friends continuing their campaign in Comchan, the threat posed by the Brony fandom was such that a united front was needed to oppose them. So it was that the effort to crush the inchoate Collective fell to two men that could not have been more different: the Mootking Rohd of the Channic, and Lord Giles Blair of the Moderator Authority. To understand how the efforts to end the First Rise could have gone as they did, it is necessary to know more about these leaders.
“Giles Blair was the scion of one of Central’s greatest and oldest families, one that had contributed their sons and daughters to the Moderator cause since the Scouring of Central. Both his mother and father had served with distinction amongst the Authority, alongside several aunts, uncles, and cousins beyond counting, and Giles was more than willing to join this legacy. Performing well in the academy, he chose to join into the Knight Arbiters, a position in which—with his gregarious and friendly ways—he excelled. He was enough of a rising star, in fact, that he was made the chair of the Channic Relations Committee, passing up his more senior competitor Dyren Halforth, a man whose hard-line stances contrasted sharply with Giles' belief in a Chan brought to heel with minimal cost of Moderator life. Giles Blair was well-known for being a devout servant and a chivalric opponent, but he possessed another quality that proved more troublesome—a desire for admiration, and an almost ceaseless ambition to advance. That drive had brought him far, making him an accomplished lord at a relatively young age… but it would also prove costly for the war he tried to fight.
“Rohd was quite different: the latest of countless men who had claimed the Baymaster’s Mask and been crowned Mootking of the Channic, a title as ancient as the masked-lands themselves. And like many of those kings, he had taken power by virtue of murdering his predecessor. Prior to this honor, however, he had carved out life as a pirate and raider, building up a small team of ships that would strike at neighboring communities. Such practices were not uncommon amongst the anonymites, and yet Rohd had gained a reputation for success that few others could match, with his attacks on the Blurr receiving particular renown after he returned from the Painted Sea with the heads of an entire cadre of the Oppressed. His cunning made him a far more dangerous opponent than his predecessor, but he was forced to walk a very thin line as Mootking. Cooperate too much with the Moderators, and his people would turn upon him, but they would easily do the same if the Bronies were allowed to win.
“One can likely see the problem with this fragile alliance from the start. Though nominally pledged together, the Authority and the Channic had entirely different goals in this conflict. The Moderators saw the Bronies as little more than a nuisance to be crushed and discarded, but more importantly as a stepping-stone that would allow them to gain a greater foothold in the Chan. The Mootking knew that the fandom that had captured Baysmouth was a threat… but so were the Moderators, who had all the men, capital, and resources that the Bronies lacked. Rohd believed that defeating the fandom would mean nothing if that victory came with Authority chains. While they worked on the surface as partners, Blair and Rohd were thus divided constantly, trying to maneuver the war not to ensure victory as swiftly as possible, but rather to ensure their own personal success after their conflict finished.
“After a tense meeting in Moot’s Point to coordinate their forces, the Authority landed their army in the northern coast of Greatchan, while sending ships to blockade Brony-controlled areas of the isles. Joining with the Channic, the combined force began their next task: the retaking of Baysmouth from the usurper Madelin Wright…”
— Excerpt from "The Brony War," by Lorelove
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Is this supposed to be funny? Am I supposed to be laughing. I'm laughing at this. This isn't supposed to be funny. There is no comedy tag. I... I don't know what to think. You wrote this, seriously, Did you write this, expecting me to take this seriously? it's about the internet, 4-chan and brownies and shit like that. There shouldn't be anything like this when dealing with shit like this. Fuck... I don't know whether to laugh or to cry. I'm sitting here, looking at pony stuff, I'm not ready for shit like this. fuck.
I'm still gonna read it though.
7919704
I'd certainly say that there's a certain layer of comedy running through this whole idea: it is, after all, taking something really mundane and turning it a huge, dramatic story. It is funny, trying to piece together where everything fits in a world like that. That's definitely not the only thing it is, though. I certainly hope I can convince you of that, going forward, and I hope you enjoy what you read either way!
Alright so back to the fun, and given how things left off, rather MASSIVE moment, given this is a new act, and the great pacing so far, not expecting anything major major, more follow up and reactions to the events we left on, the whole drama curve thing, rising action, falling etc... we just had one massive peak so now should be a bit of calm while things reset and build up for the next, even larger peak. Still, got a Lord Moderator who cannot be happy at what the assholes allowed to happen, and bronies even more on guard then before, narrowing in on a ring of antiestablishmentarians in the city... with an oddly brony seeming code name.. so much intrigue, so much development, and.. how much longer till we finally just see these assholes get a punch to the face like they deserve?
Okay some song quotes. Can't honestly say I've ever been a huge fan of SoGreatAndPowerful so really can't comment, seems to be about Pinkie.. or maybe AJ.. Not really sure what it's trying to say in relation to this upcoming chapter... about.. something moving on? No clue. (Side note, really if I had to pick a 'singer of the fandom' it would be Ponyphonic, just... damn. But still, minor note. Now, on with the actual narrative.)
Also, might be a bit rusty on what's gone on before, but should remember quick enough... I blame both your overlong hiatus, and my own excitement to try and catch up quick before it ended... and also you making this story so damn epic and immersive, and "What the hell is going ot happen next" that I breezed through it. So Proximo chapter, and again reflecting on just how much he's changed since that 'death'.
Oh it most certainly has. Even beyond, well how could it not, what we've heard, really does show that it has.
Oh right, his sister showed up at the end, see that was one of those details that kind of slipped my mind amidst all the other "OH FUCK!" moments of those last few chapters. So how is this going to play out.. just here to see him? Or something going on between his family and what's going on here?
(Note, since you're new to this, my commentaries are half reaction, half in the moment analysis, and half just random stream of consciousness ramblings.)
And already not caring for her much just from that. Barely paying attention, looking oddly, and the whole 'hair twirling' thing, looking like.. every bit as haughty as the rest of these 'nobles' and trying to put on vapid, I don't care airs as well.
Wow, I can just hear the pompous tone of voice and the not so clever jibes in that. Yup, not liking her right away. Though hopefully she's at least more nuanced about it then the Martes. This is just a more general, "Minor noble with over-inflated ideas of her important' type stuff then being more malicious.
I'm with him, especially after the night he's had, dealing with this type of social fencing really is not best thing right now. Plus, it does so irritate these types to have to get to the point...... let's hope she has to deal with Honesty for a bit.
Riiiiight that's all. So, trying to set something up with Arcadio maybe? Even as much as I dislike her already... she's not THAT bad to deserve that. But yeah, NOBODY in the story is that straightforward so, what's the real reason?
Not entirely sure what she means by that.... just a jab that it has to be a husband rather then a wife? Hmmm, maybe, between his astonishment at the idea and that... is she gay? And just needing to get a husband since, no magical lesbian babies in this world? Or, is he more astonished she'd ever 'settle down'?
Speaking of more then they seem, still not buying is the simplistic drunken fool he seems, that is TO common a disguise for people trying to not raise suspicion. Also, yup still love him, just, so flippant and self effacing, while kind of having some deeper points hidden.
Hmmm, so, just pained, diplomatically putting up with him, or, is she onto his act and sees through it like you'd really think at least lady Violet would be able to.
Yeah.. not after the night he's had, and with how oblivious she is to that. Really I'd barely have time for that type of thing ever.
yeah, good one.... I don't really like her right now, but she hardly seems THAT psychotically unstable and vile.
Oh, I don't know..... I could see hooking him up with Salrath, those two deserve each other. Plus she'd make him suffer SO much.
Old habits, plus, well... KIND OF AN IMPORTANT SITUATION GOING ON YOU SELF-RIGHTEOUS TWIT!
CALLED IT! Well that he was a spy for someone at least. Also, yeah, kind of thought so the way she reacted to a humored him.
Later yes, but.. kind of a major deal going on right now, now is not the time for exchanging pleasantries. You do realize that he was nearly KILLED a few minutes ago, right?
No, talk your way out of it, pretty sure "Attempt on your life and maiming of your friends" trumps "Needing to catch up with a relative and make small talk" pretty handily. Really would not want to deal with this kind of stuff after something like that. Also odd choice to focus on right off the bat given the ending.. I did say I was expecting a bit of low key, resetting and getting things settled from last time of course but, wasn't expecting this tract so quickly.
So, just egging on her brother and trying to needle him about their relationship.. or further evidence for my above guess? Or both?
Oh, it has, though not the 'family' you are talking about. So, is his family caught up in Arcadio's schemes, or just a coincidence?
Even with as little as we know about that back then, nope pretty sure it's not 'that easy'. And given this wording, so, she doesn't care much for their dad either then? Might be warming up to her a bit. Still a bit annoying, but more in the "Stuffy Noble" cliche way, just the sense of self importance she seems to have.
Yup, she really does not get it, and guessing daddy is even worse at that. Guess what, him being your 'family' is just a random act of chance that he had no say in, this is the family he's chosen because of how he feels for them, and them for him. Why would he want to deal with self important twits and asses like you and your dad seem to be?
Let's hope it's a sight that anyone who thinks of fucking with the bronies again remembers well before they try it. Also YAY saved by the Warden, good timing Honesty... again.
Yup, so just don't get why he wouldn't want to go home with you.
Some of those, and yet, none of those completely, nothing is that simple with this guy, and there is something very, very secret he's neck deep in. And I LOVE IT! Just, trying to pick apart what he's saying, trying to find the hidden core, he's very good at the act, but, it's to good to be anything but an act.
Well can't fault him on that point.
And love how matter of fact he took that, not even pausing at 'murdered' just, nope didn't have to.
See above, and the way he asks questions JUST so, makes remarks that seem dismissive, irreverent, just a babbling fool but, really have some deeper aspect to them, if only being really good ways to catch someone off guard, see their reaction to the unexpected.. he's to good at this to not be doing it intentionally.
OHHH this is great, Bei depends on trickery, deception, misdirection, bluffs and acts... versus the straight forward, pragmatic, unmoving bulk of shear bullheaded directness that is Honesty. OHHH yes, also... hmmm, even the name's a fake, yup something major going on with him.
And that reaction seals it, caught flatfooted, having not witty retort, no way of deflecting the conversation where he wants, so pull a strategic withdraw. Try to cover it up and leave now that he sees he's not going to get away with his usual shenanigans with Honesty. Just, the note perfect way he's playing this is great, and yeah, he's up to something.
\
Hmmmm, given the hints of a Channic past to him.. but also, good bit of insight and Wisdom.
peaking of insightful... hmmmmmm.. well then this does open up a huge other way of looking at him.... and great seeing honesty able to see all this so clearly.
The were enemies, and he is a soldier. it's a mindset that... pretty much most long term combat soldiers HAVE to be able to get into in order to survive. Being able to react in combat quickly, no hesitation. Though even then, yeah honesty is kind of an extreme, but you cannot doubt his devotion to the Fandom. Yet, can see why Proxy, who's never really been in a fight like this, wasn't seen War firsthand... yeah just does not get it.
Likely with a joke, a quip, and an attempt at setting everyone else at ease.
Speaking of, shouldn't he be, you know, getting treatment, like NOW, can't think of many more wounded them him, and outright saying he had open wounds still oozing blood... ummmm, why haven't they got those wounds closed like, the moment they started? How many could be worse then him that he isn't getting stitched up ASAP to prevent any further blood loss? Cause, since he's still alive, that's really the next major issue, given I doubt they have transfusions here. Next up comes preventing/combating infection, but get the blood lose stopped first, also, that does aid with the whole preventing infection thing.
And a few lessons in the basics of triage it seems.
Hmmm, yeah no latex gloves either. Been a while since I've dealt with a story that with this combination of no advanced magical tech or knowledge, but also no healing magic at all.
And, again great job making clear.. the moderators aren't 'evil' they aren't some monolithic group of tyrants. I love this, SO damn much! Makes everything feel more real. And hopefully Honesty is seeing this. As much as their habit says otherwise.. things really aren't as black and white as the Mods and Honesty view them.
Okay, so blood loss isn't an issue now then? Infection yup, let's hope they have some version of penicillin. Still should cover those wounds. Also her rather calm, detached way of speaking, matter of fact.. in keeping with how Moderator should act, but, really that detached, just doing her duty, nothing more, or defense mechanism when dealing with the injured like this? Or bit of both?
Yeah doing that in a triage ward will do that, especially one before disinfectants and air purifiers.
True... yet, sometimes... they can. At least at their core. You used it as a chance to become a better person, perhps he will see this as a vlidation of who he is, scars gained defending his friends. Something to be proud of, rather then shame you feel for your scar.
And I love this, it gets at Proxy, it's an easy comparison to make and something that would be on his mind now. It works so very well.
Okay that's a bit to detached just for a defense mechanism and professionalism. I take it Halforth has trained her well.
I'm with him.. after that hair remark... this is beyond just normal moderator stoicism and trying to be Vulcans. This is a deeper mental issue messing with her emotional displays level of odd.
At least they have those, now, any good painkillers?
And of course Violet would have learned the names of everyone on his team, and gotten a good idea about them. Very nice.
I'm sure there is a pun about being 'hardheaded' in there somewhere.
The question would be, how many of these assholes would be left by the time the Brony Fleet arrived after Honesty cut loose.
So close....
Oh, getting the answer to THAT question will be all kinds of fun.
Yup, but good luck making that stick. Halforth is not giving a crap in general to take major actions, though will file that away, but without hard proof, doubt he'll act agsint the Martes, though hopefully this does cause him to give the Martes less space and be more direct about his demands. Whether he will act on this all being their plan or not, he clearly is not happy they allowed it to happen and will hold them accountable on some level. The question is just what Arcadio hopped to get out of this. Or was there no real plan, just, random petulant trying to hurt pepole he doesn't like?
Exactly.
AKA, she's really channeling Rarity right now.
\
That... feels very, very awkwardly worded.......
Well,you do already have one of the Mods here. Still even IF the palace staff had healers, I wouldn't trust them either. Though question is who is this? Sister coming to mess with Proxy a bit more?
Ah, makes sense.
Odd expression given what we know of how things work in this setting.
Which is just awkward given, it's Arcadio's lackeys killing Arcadio's pawns. But this is why you never try to use a mob like this, it will never be as controlled as you'd like. Then again Arcadio gives no shits at all about the town or anyone else.
Very smooth, compliment her, help her out, try to alter the conversation smoothly to put her at ease, help her calm down. Very, very smoothly done Lady, very smooth.
And get it right into making her even more willing to help, not pushing, but subtle manipulation to make her even more agreeable then she would be, and none of it faked, Violet would be fully serious about being honored Imelia cares, and wanting to spend some time with her. Maybe cut to the "Oh one more thing" bit a little fast but, she's kind of furious right now. But still, damn she's good at this.
First is more likely. It would be stupid, but.. well.... yeah like they wouldn't be that stupid. The latter.. good luck finding any of them with enough self respect to want to do the right thing, and enough backbone to actually do it still around in that group.
Honesty really shouldn't have killed that last attacker, dragged him in for some more.. direct questioning.
Oh.. ohhh she's smart, VERY smart, follow the money, always a great idea. Also given that.. and who we know is GREAT at that.. sounds like Coin's going to have another mission.
i LOVE when this happens, the story just echos what I'm thinking, shows just how logical thought out, and rational things are going.
Proxy done got himself a sweetheart. Still makes a great cover for her feeding him info.
Wow.... someone hit a Nat 1 on that Sense Motive roll.
Maybe not but ti's what you've got to deal with, now, no breaking her heart.
True it. really shouldn't be, and.. ti's not for him but..... but... Yeah it's kind of hilarious from over here. Just, don't over do it Lady, a little teasing is fine, don't drill it to the point of become annoying.
And she doesn't right to "Ooops, to far" and being serious, and comforting, and helpful... damn she's awesome!
And going to be a very, very interesting conflict to see going forward. Good to see him dealing with it quickly. Hopefully she won't go all ragey after being 'freindzoned'
Well..... I'd say, stay polite, friendly, like you have been, be her friend, like you would, don't do anything to intentionally lead her on, but don't crush her hope either in any major way. Get her and her grandmother to safety, get them off the island, prove that you DO care and aren't just going to use her and abandon her like everyone else. Then sit down and have a long, direct talk about things.
.. Maybe.... she really would be desperate....
Again, you don't have to, just be sure to take her with you, to help her escape this hellhole. Prove you DO care, even if not quite in the way she wants. By giving her an entire new chance at a new life.
Yes yes you have. This is nothing like that. 1. You never meant to do this, never tried to string her along. 2. she's very, very willing. 3. you aren't just going to use her then dump her, you DO care for her as a freind at least. Really, that may be all she truly needs. Friendship id Magic after all.
OHHH more brony war stuff... YES PLEASE!
Ohhhhh, and yeah see how this plays out. Halforth... dealing with the Channic... ohhhh yeah that would go badly. Very very badly. So a more light touch, get along, very needed. Also fun to see even other Mods can see Halfroth might be to rigid at times. Shows that, the Authority isn't just a bunch of Lawful Stupid Templars.
Oh crap, yeah that is not likely to work well and lead to very bad things. Especially in a situation like this, seeing personal glory in stamping out these upstarts.....
Yup, more interested in looking good then ending the fighting, likely made him reject earlier peace treaties and deals, take big, flashy risks, force fights where they aren't needed, be unwilling to pull back when it was.....
Oh yeah Mod wants full control, the glory, wants to be IN CHARGE and make sure everything goes well, Mootking can't be seen to be giving in to him, has to fight to stay free of that, can't help to directly. Lots of problems there. Also I note neither of them is any mention of being a good strategic planner. Rohd might be good at small scale, hit and run tactics, but this is a full scale WAR and that takes a lot of better planning, Mod would be to hung up in not losing a single battle, even if they win the battle only to lose the war. Mootking, just to unable to see beyond the next battle.
Such a great alliance there. Yup, totally the way to deal with a force as united and driven as the bronies.
Well we know they succeed, but again, win the battle, lose the war.
Okay well, bought what I thought low key, dealing with picking up the threads of last act, setting up things for this one, just a nice, low energy, low impact bit of time to get reset, relaxed, bleed off some tension, while starting to set up the players for the next bought. And setting up some great new conflicts for Proxy, as well as the larger conflict of proving to the mods Arcadio was behind all this.
Glad this is back, and.. can't say I didn't warn you what would happen then, have fun with the walls of reaction/commentary.
7919704
I highly recommend reading it. Lord Max has been doing a great job weaving this world together for those of us who've been following it.
God, but I've missed responding to comments.
7920125
I do love Ponyphonic, and honestly his clear influence on much of the music in the fandom puts him in high standing, in my books. Of course, his music can't really be quoted, unlike SoGreatandPowerful, and I do think that the lyrical complexity of SoGaP's work is something that everyone can appreciate. His words display a very philosophical way of looking at the show and the fandom, which obviously lends itself very well to this setting.
Both.
Also both.
Honesty might have no hint of social awareness whatsoever, but he does know how to make an entrance.
Yeah, Abigail is a bit weird. Halforth has very specific reasons for keeping each of his teammates on his staff. Abigail is an excellent field examiner and medic, and she also happens to embrace Moderator stoicism to a degree that impresses even him.
Something I really like about Violet's character is that she is the perfect mix of devious and good-natured all at once. She is manipulative, very willing to deceive when the situation calls for it, and deeply pragmatic, but all while being a very kind, charitable, empathetic person who always tries to do the right thing. It's interesting and a lot of fun to imagine a character who could win the game of thrones and still be a genuinely good person.
You're entirely right. If there's one thing that Honesty is rather poor at, its restraint when his friends are threatened.
Man, you don't know how reassuring it is to hear that. I feel confident in my dialogue and my worldbuilding, but I get worried that I'm not laying things out in a logical way as I write these. Glad to hear that my fears are (somewhat) unfounded.
You can just add that your "List of Proximo's Defining Qualities":
- Assistant Warden
- Generous
- Self-Loathing
- Daddy Issues
- Hopeless with women
The Moderators have a saying: "To every task, a tool." And Halforth is nothing if not a bit of a tool (and I mean that in the most loving possible way).
Glad to be back, and don't worry: I will enjoy reading them as much as you enjoy writing them.
7922795 YAY! And yeah that did all make sense, and agree with most of the replies too. Even things that make you go "They really should have done X" it's perfectly easy to see why they did not, that's just not how they think, like with Honesty and taking prisoners.
So yeah, not really a whole lot to talk about with this bit, just some nice follow up on the previous events, while setting up some things to come. And yes Violet is awesome, and very, very much Rarity, without just being Rarity with a few tweaks. Lives up to the ideals they have about The Generous Friend so well, and do love how she's more the willing to tease Proximo about stuff, be coy, playful, tweak his nose, but the moment she realizes "Oh no, this is not something he wants to joke about, he's not just embarrassed, this is really distressing him." she cuts it out and goes right into "I'm here if you want to talk about anything" mode. Really can't wait/hoping we get to see this close a look at the other Wardens soon.
Whelp, time to back to bugging everyone on my skype list to hurry up and read this.
This is one of the most interesting stories I've had the pleasure of reading - the way that you spin a believable medieval world out of modern technology is fascinating. I'm looking forward to more once it's written.
Good to have you back! Sorry to have to wait until the chapter would normally be up anyway, but here I am now.
And both Wardens are (at least) as badass as ever.
Poor Proxi... being a non-crappy person in a crappy world is a constant balancing act.
Maybe Arcadio was involved in the riot, maybe someone less obvious, but I'm more curious how the details of the Friends' itinerary got leaked in the first place....
Great to get more backstory of the original brony conflict, and curious to see how the details actually tie into the plots unfolding now.
7924330
I make few promises when discussing the future of this story, but I will absolutely promise this: the Wardens will never cease to be badass.
That it is.
It's good to be back! Hopefully I won't need to take another hiatus that long again.
7924101 I'm happy to hear that you enjoyed it, friend. Hopefully I'll be able to continue impressing you as the story goes on!
7924330 And both in their own way. Making them even MORE epic. Can't wait to see more of the others being equally badass and showing what they can do, both from what they did in the backstory, and once they enter the story proper. Pretty much the second biggest thing I'm looking forward to after finding out just what exactly Arcadio is really up to. (Third place is what is going on with honesty, have a general idea from the hints dropped but... damn that's going to be one hell of an explanation)
You know, the Wardens would make one freaking awesome adventuring party, they have the right make up and everything.
Honesty-Front line, 'fuck shit up' Fighter.
Violet- Their social Rogue, handling all the Diplomacy rolls and talking their way out of needing to fight. As well as wrapping NPC's around her finger
Mars-Wizard of some flavor or other. Maybe Sorcerer.
Jestin- Party Bard obviously
Warden of kindness (mind blank on the name)-The party healer
Maddie- Swashbuckler (pathfinder class, mixture of Rogue and Fighter)
They are a really balanced group, all badass in their own way, but truly a force not to mess with when untied. Which is just perfect.
7925205
Highly likely... since I've actually been reading for a few chapters now, I'm just slow to comment on things. >.>''