Chapter Text
VRISKA, SPY-DER EXTRAORDINAIRE [AG] IS HERE!
ERIDAN, ORPHANER [CA] IS HERE!
You wake up and realize this is not where you remember being last. This could possibly be problematic.
Your name is Vriska Serket, and you're not sure how you got here but you know you're getting out soon. As always. You're a cerulean blueblood, high middle caste barely into the high caste, codename Spyder, title of Thief. Your work and relations, among other things, are kept under lock and key in your heart-safe. Most of the time, anyways.
You look around, gathering up your surroundings and current situation. You're sitting against a wall, your long legs stick-straight in front of you, your hands chained behind your back. Your head throbs a little, so it hasn't been very long since you passed out. You're in a room with wood on every surface, and it's most definitely a ship, because you can see a dock through the porthole on the wall to your left and the boat's rocking gently under you. You study the dock lighting for a moment - the sky, dark, the lamps still shining bright. Good, it's still night.
You eventually tear your eyes away from the window and look in front of you, where there sits a desk. This is the captain's quarters, you decide, because the troll sitting in the chair is a highblood, a vibrant purple sign on his chest, and in his hair. He looks vaguely familiar, and you could probably remember him if you heard his name. He's about your age, though probably shorter, considering your tallness and his shortness being obvious even though he's sitting down. Looks like he belongs on this ship, in both his mariner/seaman/sailor/pirate/water-suitable attire and the look in his eyes that made it obvious he was content on his boat. Also, he has really stupid glasses and at least a billion rings.
But you don't observe him for very long, because you have to get out of here. But... Hmm. Considering his seadweller status, he definitely works for Condy and Feferi. Might as well get information out of him while you can. You check your chains, feeling them with your fingers - there's no identifiable lock. You curse under your breath before addressing the violet-blood in front of you.
"Hey, you."
He doesn't look up from the map he's studying as he talks back. "W-what do ya w-want, I'm busy." Gah, does this guy even know manners? He's being spoken to and he doesn't even look up. What the fuck.
You test him to see if he's distracted. "Well then, why don't you let me go?" Your fingers run along the chain links, trying to see if they connect anywhere.
The seadweller huffs and adjusts himself in his chair, still not looking up as he writes something down on the map's margins. "Because I'm not supposed ta, I hawe orders an' shit."
You're getting a little annoyed at this guy. Your eyes sweep over his desk, landing on his sign plastered on the side of his pen jar. You know that sign - that's the Ampora sign. Okay. You remember him now. Eridan Ampora, Orphaner, serves the Empire, obsessed with himself, for the most part a quadrant fail. Back when you were kids (read: two-and-a-half to three sweeps ago), he was a friend of a friend and you heard his name a couple of times. But you don't really know him all that much.
You sigh. "I have things to do. Lucky breaks to get. I can't just sit here tied up all night, I have people to meddle with, I have a tight schedule, for Gog's sake!" You take another glance outside and realize that the time is kind of indefinable. You need to know, considering your 'tight schedule.' "...What time is it, by the way?"
Eridan scoffs. You glare at him, and though he doesn't look up you hope he can feel it. "Fuck if I know-w. Do I look like someone w-who keeps track a time?" His accent is actually a pretty common thing among highest-caste trolls, but for some reason his is much more pronounced and you find it as annoying as the rest of him.
You take a turn to make a displeased noise, followed by "You are impossible." He smirks, it only lasts a second but you totally see it. Damn, you should start a kismesissitude with this guy. But first, introductions. "Mind telling me your name, considering I'm spending an immeasurable amount of time in your presence?"
He STILL doesn't look up. Seriously, the fuck is wrong with this guy. "I'm Captain Eridan Ampora, or Orphaner. I guess that's my actual title. An' I already know-w w-who ya are so don' bother introducin' yourself."
Oh ho. Does he now? "Tell me my name, then." You're halfway sure he doesn't know who you are, but then again you were kind of a big thing in the oceanic industry a while ago so he might recognize you.
"You're Wriska Serket, the used-ta w-wannabe pirate." There's no emotion in his voice, although he did mess up your name because of his accent and that's kind of funny. You reply with a much more dramatic tone.
"Wannabe? Please." (You extend the 'e' for approximately eight 'e's.) "I'm more of a pirate then you are. Besides, I have a better job now." Fuck. What do Orphaners do again? You really need to brush up on your Trollccupation knowledge. "All you do is, what, capture trolls and kill Lusii for the fuschia-bloods?"
He smiles a knowing smile, and you're pretty sure you messed that up, but you file away that self-loathing for later and focus on his words. "That's not all I do, but either w-way, if your job is so much better now then w-why did ya spend basically your w-whole childhood fixated on becomin' your ancestor? Seems like a w-waste if ya ask me."
You make a surprised 'tch' sound, breaking your stare on his weird fin...ear...things, to stare at the ground. You couldn't be her exact profession anyways - Gamblignants are a dead profession. "Whatever. Even if I couldn't have her job doesn't mean I can't follow in her footsteps, so shut up." Seriously. You just want Eridan to. Stop. Talking.
Alas, he doesn't, simply replies with another passive-aggressive jab. "You're not really in the position ta be givin' orders, don't ya think?" Once he finishes his sentence, he finally looks up from his map and you're met with a pair of fully matured violet eyes that are looking at you about as viciously as you are to him. You just decide to ignore his comment and continue your previous train of thought.
"At least I live up to my title of Thief, in some ways, unlike you. You're not very Princely, working under people." You know it's a half-fleshed, half-assed argument, but you're kind of busy trying to find your way out of your metal bonds right now. (They are indeed connected, you just need to break them somehow.)
He, as he has already proved in this conversation, has a great response. " I beliewe my nickname only comes from the w-way I act in public, so I really do kinda liwe up ta it." A pause. He glances out of the porthole you've been stealing glances through before adding, "That bein' said, you bein' a thief is exactly w-why you're here, so good job you."
You smile. You enjoy having earned that title, it fits you, and you're finally ready to up your game at these comebacks. "Yes. Good job me, because when I bust out of here it will be worth it. Stealing knowledge and information, causing cahoots, it's what I live for." It really is - you've become amazing at it, too, and you wouldn't mind doing it for life. The thrill of trying not to be caught, the undercover missions, the roof parkour, you love it all. (You know it won't last forever, but hey, you can dream.)
Eridan hears you, and you know because his fins flare for a second before returning to normal. But he strikes up a new line of conversation, unable to find a good response. "Ya know, I doubt you'll be able ta get outta here, especially in chains."
You roll you eyes. "Chains schmains. I've seen worse in my career." You won't go into that.
The Orphaner sighs, lacing his fingers together and resting his chin on top of them. "And yet ya still manage to be as infuriatin' as before. You'd think you'da learned somefin by now." Aww, he still makes casual fish puns. You totally know that was a 'fin' slipped in there.
"I've learned a lot, Captain, thanks for asking." You say, your voice sickly sweet. You jingle your chains a little bit, grinning. "And complimenting my good qualities! Thank you. I try my hardest to be confusing and 'infuriatin'.'" As your chains settle back onto the floor, your right hand brushes over something more square - aha, there IS a lock. Now you just need to get it undone.
The seadweller laughs - more of a chuckle, really, but it's somehow a very pompous, I'm-Laughing-At-You-Not-With-You laugh. "Uh huh. Don' let it go ta your head, or your ego won' fit through the door."
Oh, that's how it is. Okay. "Shut up! It's not like you're any better, y'know!"
He knows he ticked you off, and if anything he's letting it go to his likely-rotted thinkpan. "W-well, at least I know my place and don' run around thinkin' I'm better just 'cause I kill for a liwin'."
"I do NOT kill things!" You say, immediately on the defensive. He gives you a deadpan stare. "...Mostly! It's just a whole lot of stealth missions and sometimes that involves getting rid of witnesses!" You smirk. "Besides, I back up a good cause."
"Do ya now-w?" He looks mildly interested, though the look in his eyes tells you he might already know.
You remember that you have a lockpick in your pocket. If you could reach it without making too much meddlesome noise, that'd be amazing - while you twist your hands around slowly towards your left side, you answer Eridan's question. "Yes. A much better cause than highblood oppression." You know if you say anything more, you'll confirm his suspicions, but you're pretty sure he already knows, and besides, you're feeling really annoyed with him and you want to make him annoyed even if it fails. "It's called equality, Ampora. Not that you'd be familiar with it on your high hoofbeast." Maybe you should have said skyhorse, that would have really rubbed his gills the wrong way.
He does look a bit annoyed, but it only crosses his features for a second before he recognizes your implications. "That's the shit Kar's preachin' these days, ain't it?"
You've found your lockpick, and have it held covertly in your left hand, your fingers hiding it. Now you just need to find the lock again... Fuck, that might take some work. "Yes. We fight for equal rights for everyone on this planet, him and his friends and me and everyone else."
"It doesn't surprise me that's w-what he's up to," the violet-blood says, rolling his eyes. "He newer did study his hist'ry, I w-wonder if he know-ws how-w that story ends."
You exhale sharply through your nose. "Signless just didn't get a lucky break. We'll be better." You hope, at least. The last rebellion kind of snowballed into doom, but you're fairly confident you guys will make some kind of difference that's permanent.
"W-well, w-when your rebellion comes ta an end, don't expect me ta be there one w-way or another," the violetblood says, indifference lacing his tone. "I'we got much better things ta do, like prewentin' the destruction a this godforsaken planet."
Ah, yes, you remember. Orphaner. Kills lusii and feeds them to Gl'bgolyb to prevent the vast glub. You know that could easily destroy... pretty much everyone on the planet, actually, and the universe' population as well. So yeah, his job is kind of important. But maybe he's doing it wrong, you think. There's better ways. "Most of the destruction is coming from you and the Condesce and Feferi and all the others who live and breathe blood heirarchy. Do you know how many of my friends' Lusii were culled by you?" He opens his mouth, but you're faster. "And yes, I know I do that too, but at least I'm doing it for a good cause."
"W-well," he says, after a silent pause, "if ya'd rather hawe eweryone on this planet killed by the Vast Glub, be my fuckin' guest. If I didn't kill Lusii like I do w-we'd all be dead."
You narrow your eyebrows when he returns to his map. He's still listening, though. "Why don't you at least cull the Lusii that aren't grubsitting? There's TONS of them, you know." You add, in a voice softer by a hair, "There are better ways to do what you do, Ampora."
He rolls his eyes, annoyed. Yes, your plans to get on his nerves have succeeded! "It's not like I know-w w-whether a Lusus has a grub back at a hiwe or some shit. An' I do my damnedest not to break inta hiwes ta kill a Lusus." While he talks, you finally get the lockpick over to the lock and start silently working away at it. In the meantime you'll distract him.
"Whoa, you have some semblance of morals! I'm impressed."
He snorts in irritation and glares at you from the corner of his eye. "Oh go fuck yourself Wris, a course I hawe morals!"
Click. You hear the lock unlatch, and it sounds like freedom. You pull your hands from your bonds as discreetly as possible.
"You know, I still think what Karkles says is a bit better. I mean, for one, there's for SURE other ways to feed Gl'bgolyb." You stand up, dusting your hands on the sides of your pants and adjusting your jacket. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have better things to do right now."
The look of shock on his face is hilarious, and you almost laugh before composing yourself. After a couple seconds, you start walking toward the door and he sighs, not even bothering to move from his seat. "I know-w I can't, newer could, but w-whatewer."
"This was a nice chat, Ampora," you say, the mockingly sweet tone coming in again. "Maybe I'll see you around someday. 'Course, then I'd have to cull you." Very unlikely, considering how often he's at sea. (You don't know how he had the time to even capture you, actually.) You open the door and he looks over the back of the chair to watch you leave.
"Maybe, maybe not, I'll be out at sea nine times outta ten if w-we're bein' honest," he replies. He looks thoughtful for a moment. "Maybe I'll come listen to one a Kar's sermons one day." He then smiles and shakes his head, though you can tell he hasn't totally discarded the idea. It makes you think that, maybe, he could be swayed to your side. You keep hearing Karkat talk about him and you're pretty sure they had some pretty deep friendship when they were younger so that's something you could use too.
Out loud, however, you just say "Ha! Of course." You start closing the door, waggling your fingers at him. "Later, Eridan." You don't wait for a retort, wanting the last word, and slam the door to the Captain's Quarters. You don't know if he has staff, or if they're on board, so you abscond from the ship as fast as is possible, vaulting the railing and landing on the deck. Some trolls milling around on the docks give you weird looks, others recognize you as Spyder and give you disapproving glares or thumbs-up. You don't wait any longer than you need to, absorbing impact and making your way up to the rooftops to parkour back to your current base.
You turn Eridan's words over in your head. Maybe, just maybe, you could make some kind of start, after you talk to the others about it.