intro ♚ july

[boardmaster]

WELCOME TO CAISSA

We’ve all had those dreams: you wake up on a table, to blurry, ominous images and the certainty that you are absolutely buck-naked in a room full of strangers. This is not quite it.

Instead, you come awake to the sun on your face. The soft burble of water nearby. The hustle and bustle of a busy street and the faint, fortifying smell of bread. You open your eyes and there’s no one there at your bedside, but there is what appears to be the end of the world happening just beyond your window.

There’s a crack in the world across the sky, the “sun” is the totally unnatural light spilling from that crack straight into your eyes, and someone’s left a neatly pressed and folded uniform at the foot of the bed that isn’t yours. Somewhere in the room, there’s a strange clatter like beads, the click of claws on the floor.

Something’s in here with you.

Also, you are naked.

ONE ♟ Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo

Your Carriers and the floor nannies in your rooms relay, in unison and in the curt voice of Secretary Alexandre Verdoni, a public service announcement informing all Heroes of the Delphine Grand Ball, a masquerade hosted by the Gammonian Embassy to celebrate the Heroes’ successful defeat of Noir in the Lasker Incident and the safe arrival of international foccer superstar, Ryder Wreckham. It will be held tonight at 6 PM at the White Rose Multipurpose Function Building. There will be dancing, a live orchestra, a buffet and flowing drinks, and plenty of Blanc’s finest to schmooze with, so don’t miss it! The abrupt and lavish invitation might rattle the new arrivals, but those who’ve been here longer don’t seem surprised, and many don’t look very pleased, either.

Masks and formal wear are both said to be an absolute must, but if you’re strapped for cash or festive spirit, you could get away with wearing a clean Hero uniform. But why would you when Gammon’s elites are willing to provide Heroes with complementary masks, suits and dresses precisely for the occasion? And if you need any help with your clothes, hair, makeup, or date, don’t hesitate to ask your friends or the Hall of Glory’s maids and butlers for help.

As you get ready for the ball, your floor nannies may flip through a few radio stations to set the mood; one of them just so happens to be airing Voices from the Other Tide, a popular radio show based in Lasker’s The Shield. Its target audience is comprised of international refugees and immigrant communities, so you may have caught the show before during your stay in Lasker or your visits to Sparrow Towns all over the country.

Rocco Ricci: You are listening to Voices from the Other Tide! This fine Delphine evening, the suns are shining, the moons are just about to change color, and do YOU know where your trains are? I’m your host, Rocco Ricci, coming to you live from the center of The Shield! We’ve been looking at the fallout of the latest chapter in the war with Noir, the railway attacks that happened a few weeks ago right here in the heart of our very own city. I have with me today Nokoru Nokozaki, and it’s about that time. Time to let the survivors have their say, eh? What do you say, Nokozaki?

Nokoru Nokozaki: Ah, I’d like to say thank you for inviting me, and thank you very much for doing this show. I apologize if I am not able to give many clear answers, it was a very confusing time. A very confusing trip. I still don’t know how I survived, to be honest.

Ricci: Don’t sweat it, no sweat, eh? I’ll be asking all the questions and giving you half the answers, all you need to do is work with me and give our listeners a taste of what it was like, getting trapped in the middle of all that. Explosions and magic fireworks and what was that I heard, the Blanc military running around like chickens with their heads up their—

Nokozaki: Yes, thank you very much. It was a normal trip, to visit family in the— in The Shield, I believe you call this? I am not a refugee, but I know many who tried to settle in what we call the Blackest Empire, and tried to start again in the Lawless Lands, and failed. They came here, looking for something. I came here to see how they lived.

Ricci: Right, right, that’s how it always goes, isn’t it? Better bacon, better wallpaper, it’s what we’re all here for. Why, back when I was a— [ a sudden whine of feedback ] … Thank you, thank you, I’ll have that mic back. A recap for our listeners, a train with some 800 refugees was attacked and destroyed by Noir infiltrators just a couple weeks ago! Nokozaki here is one of the very few survivors. My condolences. Condolences.

Nokozaki: Thank you… It was lucky for me, I was in the mines in Shatranj. I have endurance, you know, I can walk very long distances without food, without water. No shelter. In the mountains we passed through, there is only bad weather. And when they blew up the train cars, we had to walk home on our own. Ah, but not home, you understand.

Ricci: I sure do. What was it, there was a rumor you came back with Commander de Lisbrand of the Blanc brass? There’s a firecracker if I’ve ever seen one — not that I’ve clapped my own eyes on her yet, may I be blessed — word has it she was stranded up in the mountains all on her lonesome for a while when Noir blew the whole army off the map, and she walked her fine self back to civilization! Why, we could do a whole segment on that alone!

Nokozaki: Is that not what we are doing? I assumed… I was to talk about my experiences marching with the Lady de Lisbrand, they are calling it the Iron March, I hear? She was not alone, but trapped in the mountain with a very small number of soldiers. And us, we were in the car with them when the bomb went off, but we did not know what had happened then. Only after we returned to Lasker…

Ricci: Oh, we know all about the Iron March! Is it true you all had to survive on rock moss and wild mountain cat?! Our listeners have gone wild with speculation! [ some rustling and clearing of throat ] But of course, of course you’re quite traumatized, I’m sure. A very difficult time. This is just one of many, many stories we’ve heard coming out of the Sorokina Mountains in recent days, and many more of them feature our Lady de Lisbrand. Stay tuned for some important upcoming guests, several of whom are still searching for family members gone missing in the chaos…

Despite the flurry of preparations and rumors flying about the ball in every alleyway, not everyone is interested in Delphine’s most prestigious event. Many of Caissa’s most eligible maidens have never danced at something so public! Some otherwise upstanding citizens just can’t be bothered to go, especially since they’re not the ones getting sponsored for free clothes. What’s the point in dropping half a year’s worth in wages on a fancy suit and tie or a ball gown?

For those who don’t wish to have anything to do with Blanc’s upper echelon or its martial celebrations, Uptown Caissa is abuzz with the biggest civilian event of the month: Festivale de la Ceinturonne, named after the sparkling, silver galaxy you can see on clear, summer night skies.

How about you, Hero? Which celebration will you choose? Or perhaps you'd like to double dip?

TWO ♟ Delphine Grand Ball

As two men in dapper suits greet you with synchronized bows and throw open the doors to the grand ballroom, the mellow strains of a live orchestral waltz flow out, filling the extravagant hall with the sound of soulful strings and whimsical woodwinds. Beautifully-dressed dancers move in pairs on the marble floor, swaying and gliding under a brilliant, crystal sky of chandeliers. The large, open arches that line the west side of the hall are decorated with massive velvet curtains that billow gently in the night breeze and hide both shyer dancers and small tables of finger foods. Young, passionate couples and colleagues in cahoots alike—sometimes it’s hard to distinguish the two—throng the balconies outside, enjoying the clear starred sky and the glow of Oubliette close at hand.

The crown jewel of the evening is, of course, the exquisitely bedecked and room-length tables laden with high-class food and drink the likes of which neither you nor the vast majority of ordinary Caissans have ever seen or heard. And they keep bringing out more! No spot on the table is to be left bare for the remainder of the evening! (Gerald, Hall of Glory Head Butler, highly recommends the champagne!) Some tables, however, might hold familiar dishes from French and British—er, Blanc and Gammonian cuisine. Most eye-catching are the tiered displays of pastel marshmallow cups and the tall and ornate fondue fountains of cascading chocolate, strawberry, and vanilla. They’re a homage to the mallow-colored moon of Delphine, the goddess of love, and tradition suggests you share a mallow with someone you care about.

Blanc’s richest and most influential are all present and accounted for. If they’re not waltzing or eating caviar, then they will be conversing among themselves over exquisite wine. Some try to catch the attention of Ryder, whose giant and suspiciously realistic fur coat and suit look wholly inappropriate for the weather. He smokes an expensive-looking pipe encrusted with diamonds while a small, diligent bodyguard serves as his very own footrest. Prime Minister Thierry Toussaint mingles with the noblest of families, his mask adorned with feathers that fall nearly to the floor. Both individuals are as sought after as they are difficult to approach… You’d have better luck simply mingling with other VIPs and soliciting their opinions.

Most are full of hot air and idle gossip, but some express open discontent with Ryder’s views; must be that speech he made a while ago. Others take issue with the Prime Minister’s handling of affairs; still others have whispered doubts of Secretary Verdoni’s loyalties to share with you; Commander de Lisbrand does not escape scrutiny either, despite not being present. There’s also talk of the new wave of Blanc leadership, though you can never quite get a name to go with the ambitious rumors. However, you will notice that, despite their poisonous tongues, Blanc’s best and brightest seem to be quite taken with you!

This is your chance. What you say to the VIPs can influence their opinions of Blanc’s leadership, the Lasker incident, and Blanc’s course of action from here on out, for better or for worse. (You are allowed to control the unnamed VIP NPCs. What did you tell them?)

THREE ♟ Wish Upon A Star

Maybe you looked at the people around you, the ones you’d be dancing and schmoozing and seen with in the papers the morning after, and thought, ”Not happening.” Perhaps the ballroom is too grand, the people too snazzy, or the music too classy; it makes your head spin right round. Some fresh air and eavesdropping on the veranda may just clear your head.

On the way out, you may notice a certain someone sitting at one of the veranda tables, surrounded by paperwork and a delicately stacked pile of beignets. Shouldn’t Secretary Verdoni allow himself to celebrate for once in his life? Upon closer (and discreet) inspection, it looks as if the paperwork is exclusively composed of reports on the Lasker incident. Does Verdoni look increasingly unhappy the deeper he digs into the stack? It’s also possible his face is just stuck that way.

It may be best to leave him to his work; though trying to engage him in conversation will lead to:

Verdoni Do I look like I have the time to speak with you? [ he says briskly, but relents quickly ] Perhaps just a moment. The situation in Lasker is improving, thanks to your efforts. Well done. Your work in reaching out to residents of The Shield has eased tensions, though it’s still a long ways away from what I’d consider good. Of course, our work is never done. [ his gaze flicks back to the paperwork before him; it’s clear by ‘our’ he means ‘my’ ] That’s not even getting into the reports I’ve been hearing from Petrosian. People disappearing, strange things in the river… it may be nothing, but keep your eyes open.

Should you leave the premises entirely and walk on through Uptown Caissa, you’ll find the chance to experience an entirely different aspect of Blanc culture. Around this time of the year, the week-long Festivale de la Ceinturonne is taking place in the streets and skies of the capital: the people of Caissa are heavily encouraged to write poetry about their dreams and desires so as to receive blessings from Delphine, goddess of love and the arts. These small wishes are folded and tied to trees around the Oubliette Temple Shrine.

Many commoners appear cheerful as they gather and offer their wishes to Delphine. The bright, star-shaped lanterns hanging from buildings and trees create a mellow atmosphere and attract crowds of lovey-dovey couples around who seem too happy to have wishes at all. Maybe you feel up to taking a peek at some of the local merchandise: colored cookies and good luck charms lovingly made in bird and mermaid shapes, or well-coveted couple bracelets with two parts that make one whole. But be careful! Losing your bracelet is said to bring bad luck!

The streets are also absolutely bustling with errant performers of all kinds, many of whom tell their own versions of the story of la Ceinturonne: said to be the sash of Delphine herself stretched across the sky in a river of stars, it separates the famous doomed couple of legend. The bluebird Ilatar and the mermaid weaver Geva are said to have been cursed by Delphine for their carelessness, and may only meet once a year at the mouth of the great river. Some performers may be looking for helping hands to play roles in the story! Let your inner thespian shine!

But not everyone can be happy, even once a year: the rumblings of civil unrest in Lasker have increased in volume ever since the train attacks. Many of the aforementioned street performers this year seem to have added a political or darker bend to our annual tale of great romance: in some versions, Ilatar and Geva backstab Delphine outright, while in others, the river itself turns against the lovers, and so on and so forth. A great deal of graffiti has been smeared over the pristine walls behind the temple, lambasting the Prime Minister for selling his country to the Gammonian and Noir old money.

If you wish to quell the unrest, you may put on counter performances, clean the graffiti, or invent your own, more creative means of quieting the people. Be advised, though: Blanc’s masses have had their eyes opened, and it will take some fancy footwork to close them again.

INFO ♟ Welcome!

Welcome to Crosscheck's July intro log! For any further questions, please see the FAQ or reach us at the Contact Us page. Have fun!

Comments

Belthazar Spellscry | OTA

[arcanepower]

[two - the ball ]

[Belthazar is no stranger to politics or the foppish parties that rich people throw, but this is the first time he's ever attended one. Usually he's stuck in the kitchen or restocking food, and running his little heart out... But not this time. He's had a set of scarlet and gold robes forced on him-- though at least they let him choose a mask-- and now he's utterly lost.

He's a wallflower, for sure, and a hungry one-- so he can be seen haunting the tables of food and stuffing his face. When he's not chipmunk-cheeked, he might be peering at the fancy fountains, wondering if any of this is safe to eat.]

[three - the common festival]

[Belthazar is tired from all the food and the merriment, so he stays away from the thickest of crowds. But he does make off with a little lantern, which he keeps alight with a tiny spell, and holds closely.

Later on, he can be found on his hands and knees scrubbing at the graffiti. This city is a wreck. People deserve better. And so... this is how he ends up spending his very last hours of the festival, with a bucket of soapy water and a pile of rags. The lantern lights his way.]

two

[showsnopiety]

It's chocolate. You will be fine eating from it.

[Caren appears beside him, somehow. How does she do it? It's hard to say! Maybe she's learning to use her deamp powers already. More likely she has been watching him for awhile and decided to take pity on him.

Some way or the other.]

That ones white chocolate, the other one is dark. You're supposed to stick something in and pull it out on one of the forks provided.

[Caren offers him a small smile. There's no gold in her outfit; hers is red and black, translucent in parts to where it might, just might, be considered lewd. But nothing is seen. It's just a tease. ]

Is that what you were wondering about? Belthazar.

[arcanepower]

[He jumps about three feet in the air when Caren appears. So much for elven ears!]

Did you have to sneak up on me like that?! [Okay, calming down... trying, anyway. But then she's explaining the fountains and he can't help but be a little offended. She's trying to help, but he knows food like nothing else and so he's gonna be a little shit about it.]

I know it is chocolate, but I have never had the pleasure of eating out of a fountain. It seems... unsanitary. What if someone spat in it?

[He's gesticulating with his hands angrily, trying to get the point across that it's questionable food practice at best, and then he actually notices what she's wearing. His eyes widen slightly, and there is a blush, and then he's hurriedly looking away and clearing his throat.]

These kinds of things do not suit me, I think.

[showsnopiety]

My apologies. I thought you heard me coming.

[His ear might have twitched or something, making her think that? Or maybe she was trying to be a little bit of a tease about it, like she is about everything else.

Though at his snotty little comment, she offers him a shrug.]

Then I would hope no one would spit in it? It is rather rude.

[She side steps, before she brushes her fingers over his sleeve.]

What suits you then? I know you like cooking, baking a bit but...is it the food or the formality?

[arcanepower]

[The teasing makes him blush, as always.] It is, but you never know with people. [Plus, the same Heroes attending this ball also defiled the message board with porn of people they knew.

He doesn't pull away from the touch. There's a tingle of mana transfer and it makes him look away. He's still feeling rather drained after the train mission, but he isn't sure he should ask Caren for help. It seems inappropriate.]

The formality. I made food like this in the kitchens of the nobility for years, so I am familiar, but I was never invited to join in the festivities. Not once. Such was my fate as one of common birth.

[He tugs his gold-edged red sleeves down to hide his wrists. They're almost like gloves, and that's why he wears that style all the time.]

You do not seem out of place at all. If I did not know any better, I would have thought you ventured out of a painting.

Two

[drawmecute]

*Lola was looking to spot fellow heroes in the crowd. Masks would concern her but it wasn't what they wore, but how they wore it. And this wallflower was clearly not one of the nobles. Wallflowers simply won't due, not when Lola is around. She'd danced with some of the society boys, and now she wanted someone a little less... self-important.*

Would you like to dance?

[arcanepower]

[Did the long pointy ears give him away? Probably. He doesn't respond at first, thinking Lola must be talking to someone next to him. But when there's no answer, he actually has to look around.]

Wh... what? Me?

[Very eloquent.]

Surely you jest.

[drawmecute]

*There is only you, why would you think she was talking to walls?*

Yes, you.

And I don't know how to jest, you would have to lead if we do that.

*...Lola...*

[arcanepower]

[Because he has no social skills and is used to being ignored.]

It means-- [omfg.] -- I thought you were making fun of me.

[He shifts his weight uncomfortably.]

I have never danced before, especially not with a... a girl.

[This last part is mumbled, but ooooh he's so red.]

two

[suzinkazan]

[She has taken it upon herself to try and encourage every wallflower, so she's coming. She herself has a very unique mask but her dress is the definition of ornate, a ball gown that explodes out at her waist into what appears to be a turned up rose, hints of gold in the petals near her feet, but otherwise a bright red.]

Nervous?

[arcanepower]

[That's a very interesting mask, but his eyes are drawn more to the dress. It's one of the more attention-grabbing ones. He can't believe there are multiple girls talking to him. This never happens.]

Ah--

[Of course, now that he's been called out on it, he is feeling very nervous.]

To be absolutely honest, the last time I tried to sneak into a place like this, I was thrown out.

[suzinkazan]

[Perhaps he should embrace his apparent new role as a harem comedy lead.]

If you want my advice, a bit of red helps with that immensely. [Which is probably why she has some in her hand, one could assume.]

It must be odd to go from an uninvited guest to one of honor though, hm?

[arcanepower]

[Part of him longs to, for sure; he is still a seventeen-year-old boy even if he looks a little younger.]

What does color have to do with it?

[He's wearing red too.]

It is odd, and it feels... insincere. Considering all that transpired before this, I cannot say I am comfortable wining and dining, as it were.

three

[timetogetdown]

Belthazar almost bumped into someone else on his graffiti clean up duty when both of them rounded a corner in opposite direction. A short man wearing a tuxedo that has clearly been very lived in tonight, if the stains and wrinkles are any indication.

After a muttered apology, Lucio looked over the half erased slogan, then back over to Belthazar.

"What'd it say before you started wiping it off?"

[arcanepower]

Lucio might have been short but Belthazar was shorter, and maybe half as graceful, so he staggered a bit and readied to yell at the man. A quick look at the situation showed that Lucio was trying to do the same thing he was, though, and it had been Belthazar's fault, so yelling at him would have... caused more problems than it solved.

He took a breath and a moment to straighten his fancy robes, then turned to the wall. Very deadpan, and in a voice far too young-sounding to pronounce those words, he explained what had been written. "It was an implication that our Prime Minister was giving the leader of the other country sexual favors in return for vast sums of money." A pause, and he lifted up his lantern to illuminate more of the wall. "Also, your mother. Or his mother. The language is unclear here."

[timetogetdown]

"Ah."

As it turned out, Lucio hadn't been cleaning the graffiti, he'd been reading it.

"This Toussaint guy doesn't seem very popular right now."

[arcanepower]

At least he wasn't adding to it.

"No, he... he is not." Belthazar glanced over at Lucio. "Were you not present for the last mission?"

two

[umberly]

[ Perhaps Belthazar has been feeling Kavi's gaze following for some time now and this time, it's not because Kavi intends to tease but because he's weighing the outcome of his potential approaches. Some time ago, he would have waded over to Belthazar and perhaps cajoled him into doing something he doesn't feel comfortable with. Or he might have talked his ear off and back on in an attempt to make him feel more comfortable.

As it is, Kavi has a feeling that neither of these approaches will work. And it's only where Belthazar seems to be feeling comfortable that Kavi approaches, eyes fixed on the fancy fountains as well. ]

I don't think they'll bite. Plus, the chocolate looks really rich, yeah?

[arcanepower]

[He has definitely felt someone's eyes on him all night, but being unable to locate them has left him particularly on edge. He has the look of nervous animal, glancing this way and that, his ears twitching at the slightest noise. It's almost as if he's expecting someone to yank the food out of his hands.

But nothing comes, and so he begins to relax slightly, and finds himself deeply engrossed in the meaning of chocolate fountains when Kavi comes up.

He jumps a little, but not as much as he would have earlier. He remembers Kavi from the network and the package; he's never seen him in person before even though they've traded gifts.]

I-it's watered down and overcooked, [he says indignantly.] And quite unsafe to eat unless you trust whatever is on the hands of those who ate from it before. It's a spectacle to be sure-- but they could have done better.

[umberly]

[ A tiny (hah) perfectionist and a food critic. Considering who his father is, Kavi really should have seen this coming. In fact, the similarities bring a grin to his face and he swipes a finger through the generous amount of liquid chocolate. He licks it off with a thoughtful noise before raising both eyebrows at Belthazar. ]

Now I've added my germs to the rest. It's not a party unless someone gets sick afterwards, yeah? It tastes fine to me, too.

[ Probably because his sense of taste is slightly skewered. But there is also a teasing glint in his eyes, he's baiting Belthazar. ]

What would you have done differently?

[arcanepower]

[Belthazar gives Kavi a look like he's been absolutely scandalized. He even makes a noise of disgust. Are you happy, Kavi?]

Ugh. Like you have an educated sense of taste.

[He huffs, having taken the bait he didn't even know was there.]

First of all, I would make the chocolate fountains out of magic so that there would be less contamination. For all of Blanc's technology, I am still not fond of machines in everything. I can taste the metal. Secondly, I would make it a richer batch-- more cream, less cane sugar, more cocoa beans. And I would roast them instead of incinerating them! Thirdly, I would be sure to change the chocolate every half-hour, so that it does not get too disgusting or stale.

Honestly, the whole concept of a chocolate fountain is one built for spectacle rather than taste, and it is poor taste indeed. It is one of those things that wealthy people do just because they can, not because they attribute any real meaning to it. So, really, the whole exercise is pointless; all that potential chocolate ought to go into something people can eat without fear of swallowing at least one hair from a stranger.

three!

[sunderings]

[ Beyond the temple shrine there is a light, small but fiercely ablaze, its glow capturing the King's attention, a familiar silhouette bidding him close, and gleaming green eyes convincing from him a smile, for perhaps it is only Belthazar who would take it upon himself to clean graffiti by lamplight. This marks the second time, then, that Sion has pulled back his hair on account of the younger man, securing the locks which whisper at the backs of his knees with a purple silk ribbon before wordlessly reaching for one of the rags heaped into a pile. ]

You should have company, if you are going to make a night of this, Belthazar.

[ And Sion seems determined to be just that, company which doubles as an additional source of light, though the gentle radiance which emits from the King pales in comparison to the lantern (and to Belthazar himself).

Still, Sion unceremoniously falls to his knees, worrying not for his present state of dress because there are far more important things to preserve in the here and now—a place of such merriment should not bear the markings of unrest. ]

[arcanepower]

[And here he was hoping that Sion would keep walking... although that would be a lie, really. He's grown fond of Sion in a short time, something he doesn't want to admit to anyone, least of all Sion himself-- but friends are friends, and he has a few here, and he plans on keeping them. He looks up as the unearthly king approaches with his hair swept back and a warm smile on his face, and Belthazar can't help the slight look of relief he wears in turn. He's quick to duck his head again, however.]

I don't need company, [he says dismissively, though it lacks an edge. By now, Sion has surely noticed that he wears a tempestuous manner to hide what he truly feels.] What I need is stronger soap!

[He rubs at the beginning of a nasty word with renewed vigor, biting his bottom lip for a moment.]

A place of worship is sacred to all people, be they poor or wealthy. That they defiled this wall so close to the temple illustrates just how bad things have become... and I cannot blame them. [He scrubs harder.] The nobility can dazzle us with fancy food and fashion, and they might fool some with useless platitudes about how they will certainly send aid, but I know better.

And the people living here do, too.

[sunderings]

Even so... [ Ever so lightly, he touches the tips of his fingers to the back of Belthazar's hand, hoping that the small bout of contact and the mana that flowed along with it would jolt the younger man into listening and listening well. Who in all the realms would be deterred by Belthazar's show of indifference after laying witness to the relief which had shone in his eyes? Certainly not Sion, and the King is steady as he always is, his smile soft as he continues on: ] ...you cannot take everything upon your own two shoulders, lest you become buried beneath it.

[ And scrub one's hands raw in the process of freeing temple walls from ...filth, if the remnants of the word which Belthazar had worked to clean away is at all telling. With a gentle loft of brow, Sion draws back his touch, and still very much upon his knees, he takes a rag to the lowermost section of the graffiti, scouring away. ]

Aid from the nobility may find those in need of it just yet, your fellow Heroes have worked tirelessly to sway both their hearts and mind toward the plight of those in Lasker. [ Sion included, though he'd also spoken of war while twittering away and laughing over champagne, just as he'd used to at court affairs. ] And even if it should not, we will find other means of supporting the people.

Believe in that, Belthazar.

[arcanepower]

[He gasps at the touch, not because it's unwelcome or anything but because Sion is obviously using mana transfer to get his attention. And it works. He freezes midway through his ministrations, and after a moment, he sits back to listen.

Sion is right, as always. Belthazar finds he is wrong a lot of the time lately. Shouldering all of his troubles has been a survival instinct as much as anything else, and unlearning it is harder than pulling his own teeth. He isn't sure how to express that in words without sounding like he is whining, though, so he takes in the lecture, and files it away for later examination.]

I believe, [he murmurs.] I believe that us so-called Heroes are in the best position to help the downtrodden. But I... [His hand tightens around the little rag until his knuckles turn white, stark even in the soft yellowy light of the lamp.] ... I have seen the ugliness in the higher classes too much to believe anything they say. That is my own failing, and I know that, but I do not think I have the patience or the heart to convince them of anything.

[He wets the rag again, and presses it to the wall. This time he scrubs more languidly.]

I have never been very good at politics. I can say my yes-masters and apologize just enough to ensure I will not be killed where I stand for existing, but that has never spared me grief. [His voice grows quieter, and that brings out the roughness of his voice changing more.]

People are so cruel, Sion. Would it be easier if I was like them? If I was unable to care?