[hider=The Evening Prior - A Bitter Farewell][hr][center][h3][b][color=orchid]Solange - The Red Sail[/color][/b][/h3]
[sup][sup][sup][color=pink][i]Blood may be thicker than water, yet it’s water that flowers need to grow. The only things to thrive off of blood are parasites and leeches.[/i][/color][/sup][/sup][/sup][/center][hr]


[b]“Tell me what’s going on.”[/b]

Solange immediately recognized the voice and her shoulders relaxed as a lantern flicked on and cast a dim glow around the room. She let out a heavy breath as her hand fell from her chest, her heart resuming its regular rhythm as it stopped emulating the frantic, wild dancing happening on the floor below. She turned to her sister, moved to sit down on the bed, and, with faux-humor in her voice and a mischievous shine in her eyes, said, [color=orchid][b]“Ren, you scared me. I thought we had called a truce to the pranks.”[/b][/color]

[b]“And I thought you were done trying to sink your claws into that Vargas,”[/b] asked Renata, her eyebrows rising in sync with her tone and setting off a ripple of stress lines across her forehead. Solange had always joked that looking at her sister was like looking in a mirror that’d cracked ever so slightly, a bit that was always received by Renata with a look of disgust and annoyance—the very same look she was giving Solange now, made even more brilliant by the table lamp Solange had flicked on. 

[color=orchid][b]“Oh, I am,”[/b][/color] said a self-satisfied Solange. Her true colors were the closest to coming through whenever she spoke with her sister, yet even then they refracted and twisted through a broken prism. She shifted down to the floor, grabbed a box from underneath the bed, and began sorting through the various vials inside the container. She held one up to the lamp, the deep purple clinging like sludge to the side of the vial, and smiled as she placed it securely inside of a padded sack.

[color=orchid][b]“They’re pierced firmly through his heart now,”[/b][/color] she said as she continued her ritualistic inspection of different plant extracts. A cruel giddiness snuck through with her words. She was a child with a magnifying glass coming to terms with their ascension into godhood over the ants she could engulf in flames if her beam focused on them, and she was more interested in seeing them burn. [color=orchid][b]“I’m afraid if I were to remove my claws now then the poor man would simply crumple over and bleed to death. I would [i]hate[/i] to see him bleed out before he was bled dry. He has so much to offer.”[/b][/color]

[b]“And he likely has more up his sleeve than you realize,”[/b] said Renata. [b]“Plus, Fontaine isn’t going to like you stirring up trouble with her rival...or working with him.”[/b]

[color=orchid][b]“I’m beginning to doubt if she’d even care. Plus,  I know what I’m doing. If it seems like the hand I hold is a loser then I’ll fold it well before anything is revealed. Besides, Vargas knows what happens when someone harms one of Fontaine’s girls and Fontaine is savvy enough to not mess with Vargas’s business partner.” [/b][/color]

[b]”Sorry, his what?”[/b]

Solange watched as Renata’s face sunk deeper into her hand as she explained to her the upcoming voyage to unearth a drunk woman’s rumored treasure. She could tell that her sister thought the whole idea was ridiculous, and that only reinforced in Solange the idea that it was the right thing to do. She did not want to become her sister, who she knew was to blame for Solange’s current situation. Her sister was the kind of person who was shackled by another yet sang her warden’s praises because her chains were long and her cell had a window that gave her an illusion of freedom.

[b]“Solange, this is nonsense.”[/b]

Solange knew that Fontaine was a weed. She strangled growth and destroyed beauty, offering women false freedom by letting them work off their debt yet never giving the tools to improve or advance, until their budding flowers were transformed, alchemy-like, into dandelions, pretty little things that spread the weed until every flower in the garden was choked out. Fontaine said Solange was free to leave, but where could she possibly go when she had no money and had no hope of saving money between living expenses and Fontaine’s cut? Only people like Vargas would want her, and Vargas was no different. Like Fontaine, he saw her as a thing to exploit. He’d grow tired of her soon. 

[b]“As your older sister, I forbid you from going on this wild goose chase.”[/b]

She hated them. She was jealous of them. The way they had manipulated others, pulled strings and stabbed backs, so that they were the bloodsucking vampires instead of the drained thralls was beautiful. However, a parasite cannot respect another parasite when it feeds off of them, nor is it happy when another parasite feeds at all. Their success infuriated her. Nothing would be better than to see them bowing before her, except for perhaps their bodies bloated and bobbing in the bay. She’d rather Vargas drive a knife between her ribs or have Fontaine send Prudence to strangle her in her sleep than spend her best years being feasted upon in their shadows. This wild goose chase was her best bet at breaking into the sunlight. 

[color=orchid][b]“No.”[/b][/color]

[b]“Solange, you owe it to Fontaine…”[/b]

[color=orchid][b]“Shut up. You ruined my life. You don’t get a say in it anymore. Get out,[/b][/color] said Solange, her voice more bitter than the leaves she used to brew potions. She saw Renata opening her mouth to protest, so she moved quickly to shut her up. Solange held a ruby red vial aloft. [color=orchid][b]“You try anything, and you’ll never be able to take a drink again without fear of your insides rupturing and leaking out of every one of your orifices.”[/b][/color]

The sisters stared each other down, unblinking, one trying to sell the lie that she wasn’t above sororicide while the other trying to find it inside of her to believe that her sister was incapable of such things. Renata looked away first, her eyes vacant, the expression of a woman who has seen too many atrocities to muster up the hope needed to parse the truth. Solange did not avert her gaze, her eyes watering with angry tears, her mind uncertain of how much truth had been in that lie. The chair creaked as Renata got up and walked to the door. She paused after she opened it and turned as if she was going to say something—a final barb, one last plea—and then wordlessly hung her head and left Solange alone. [/hider]

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[color=orchid][h3][b]Solange - The Faded Lantern[/b][/h3][/color]
[/center][hr]

It would raise too many questions to leave the Red Sail with packed bags. Solange spent the night with the chair jammed underneath the doorknob, worried that her sister would wise up and try to convince her to stay or, worse, flap her gums and prompt unwanted attention to turn her way. Even after the jambori had settled down and the music stopped, Solange hardly slept, drifting off only to jump alert at the sound of footsteps passing by her room as some overnight guest struggled to find the loo. The night dragged on for what felt like an eternity, and she slipped out at first light to the Faded Lantern, lugging two packs brimming with dresses, journals, and alchemical supplies. She had heard enough horror stories from the sailors she’d slept with to squirrel away a few extra days worth of rations for herself, too. Knowing her luck she doubted it’d be a smooth sail. 

It was already sweltering even though the sun’s golden rays had just begun to crest above the bay. Solange tugged at her collar and huffed, shifting the weight of the packs to try and ease her burden as she passed by the handful of sleeping revellers that’d failed to party until dawn. She imagined that most of their pockets had been picked clean by now, and the strain of the bags made her not want to dawdle. She quickened her pace and entered the Faded Lantern, abandoning her bags to Percival as quickly as she could. Secreted away in one of her hidden pockets was an itemized list of what she’d packed. She figured ol’ Percy lacked the guts to try and snag a tip, but she would rather play it safe. 

A delectable aroma wafted from the meeting room and Solange felt her stomach rumble at the cornucopia set out for their band of rascillions. However, as difficult as it was to not satiate her appetite immediately, it was even more difficult to not notice the large Tork man despite his efforts to try and blend in with the wall decorations. It appeared that he was the only one to have arrived so far besides her. A devious smile flashed across Solange’s face. How perfect! It was difficult to pull the strong, silent type out of their shell while in a loud setting. Alone, he had no choice but to be wrapped up in her web.

[color=orchid][b]“Good morning, darling! I am pleased to see that you felt no reservation in helping yourself to the food this morning,”[/b][/color] said Solange. 

Her hand flicked out and snagged the back of a chair, the leg scraping across the floor like an alarm harbinging the end times for Skarsat’s wallflower days. Solange sat down far enough as to not immediately burst his bubble, but close enough so that looking at the floor would be the only way to escape her presence. She sat with her legs crossed, her billowing dress slit just above the knee, and fingers idly playing with the strings on her bodice as she locked eyes with Skarsat. 

[color=orchid][b]“Sleep well, I hope? Did they ever get you that hammock? I was so excited I could hardly rest. I’m sorry I did not have more time to get to know you last evening, but you didn’t strike me as the type of man who’d enjoy playing dress-up—at least not with your superior in the room,”[/b][/color] said Solange, her lip curling into a warm smile. [color=orchid][b]“Of course I am referring to that Zherpa woman, my dear. I might be Lord Vargas’s business partner, but that doesn't mean you and I aren’t equals. If there is anything that you need, please do not hesitate to ask.”

“Believe me, love, I’ve been told that advice is the third best thing that I give. I’ll leave the other two up to your imagination...for now,”[/b][/color] she said, standing to peruse the food. [color=orchid][b]“Would you like another plate, dear?”[/b][/color]