Fannish Rambling

This is not actually the beginning of the chapter. I am trying to get the hearing blocked out before I work on other stuff like “Dave and his conversation with Troll Jesus Mark Two,” and “Dave deals with his brother issues.” I would like some critique because speeches are tricksy things.

The sentencing was taking place in one of the largest blocks on the ship, a lecture hall/theater on one of the mid-decks. It was currently set up to resemble a traditional Alternian courtroom. The alcove where the Judicial Drone usually sat was center stage and occupied by a Drone puppet manned by a troll and human crew who had spent the two dress rehearsals doing a Lion Dance during breaks. According to Pyrope, it was a puppet instead of the actual Judicial Drone delegate because His Tyranny was there as an observer, not a participant. Off to the left of the alcove was a black, wooden throne decorated in Tyrian and silver and carved with sea creatures and lineage signs. It was currently empty—the Heiress would be escorted to her throne after the curtains went up.     

“I feel like I’m in a school play,” Dave muttered under his breath. He was in the control booth, where he was going to be running the sound, lights, and the presentation, with Tin Soldier’s help. He ran the final sound checks, watched the various delegates filling up the seats and tried to figure out where the nervous was coming from. “Death of a Douchebag, Pirates and Pissants, Under Mirkwood.” What he was remembering now was White Tank and the way visits from touring high blood nobles were major events, with the students staging performances (always “traditional music and theater”), and having war games to demonstrate their abilities.  

He wondered if being reminded of White Tank was why he was nervous. Or maybe it was because he was up in the control booth where he would not be able to get to Pyrope if something went wrong. He was used to being on the floor of the court trying to keep the sand from the dueling circle out of the equipment. He was used to being able to sweep in with the other members of the team when the accused got out of hand.

 Those were all pretty valid reasons for being nervous.

 “Everyone’s seated, lights going out,” Tin Soldier said.

 Dave nodded, and started up the music. He glanced at the back stage monitors and saw that everyone was in position. “Okay, curtains.” He upped the volume of the music and turned on the big screens while Tin Soldier opened the curtains. The first light was for Pyrope, standing downstage center, bright teal.

Another few beats and he turned on the spots that followed Peixes and her personal retinue to the throne. Karkat was on her left under a red spot, John was on her right in a blue, with Maryam, Leijon, Megido, Nitram and Serket fanned out just behind the throne under their respective colors. They stood so that there were four empty spaces each lit up by a color—mustard, indigo, cobalt blue and violet. The audience had stood the moment Peixes walked out on stage, and they sat back down when she did. (Peixes did not do the thing where you sat only after being invited to do so.)

Dave cut the music and brought the lights on stage up a little.

“Thank you for attending this conference,” Pyrope said. “You are all gathered here to witness, not a trial but a final hearing and a sentencing. The trial itself was conducted a long time ago, in absentia, though no crime was committed.” She spread her arms out, palms up. “I say that no crime was committed because Imperial law is more concerned in controlling those without power than those with it. This upside down and backward, but it works.”  

(This caused some scattered muttering in the crowd, as well as scattered, bitter laughter.)

Pyrope dropped her arms and paced to stage right then left as she continued speaking. “Nothing the guilty party did was technically illegal; the Highbloods, especially the royal sea dwellers, vote with daggers and poison in the wine. You might be able to argue that theft occurred, but not necessarily murder. There was an attempt at insurrection, which failed; our Heiress proved that she could defend herself from those who might try to control her, though she lost much of her support that day.”

“So! No crime was committed but lives were lost. Lovers were separated by death and distance, and our Heiress was left alone to recoup her losses. Her support scattered, but worked to rebuild and create new connections. Her support remained loyal, and the betrayer was rewarded by his sponsor with betrayal.” Pyrope stopped back at downstage center and grinned like a shark. “This was only unexpected to the betrayer. I’d like to dwell on the exact depths of the guilty party’s stupidity, but Serendipity and my kismesis forbids it.” Pyrope gave it a beat before continuing. “I’ll explain what I meant by that during the course of the hearing.”