The Ninth Trial

[advisories]

Who: everyone
When: Day 18, starting just after dawn
Where: The Hermit's Tent, and all around

[This morning as the sun begins to pour through the train's windows, there's the tremor that signals a Trial.]

Come hither, Heroes. Prove thy worth. Or something like that!

[It's the same older man's voice from the sixth trial, and outside is the same fortune teller's stall. Today the front flap is lifted to show a normal interior -- there's a wooden table, carved with geometric patterns and painted in bright colours, lit by teal-coloured carved candles.

At the table sits a man of indeterminate age, somewhere between 30 and 60. He's wearing what appear to be monk's robes, teal with patterned trimming. In front of him is a crystal ball and a stack of bingo cards, along with a stand-up sign bearing the rules of this Trial.

Across the top in large font, it says:

Icebreaker Bingo

Good luck and have fun!]

Comments

[desirestruth]

...For you, I can't see much other reasons, it's true.

[Shrug. There's no judgement to it. But he's clearly not in the market for love, and she doesn't think he comes off as the kind of person who'd have to consider politics...finances are a perfectly legitimate arrangement.]

[bad_crowmance]

Exactly! It'd work out pretty well that way.

[desirestruth]

As long as you both knew what you were getting into, at least.

[bad_crowmance]

Of course, I'm not a complete asshole.

[ His tone's amused, a grin playing on the corners of his lips. ]

[desirestruth]

No, of course not. You don't like opening up, but you're pretty honest about your intentions, right?

[This is an incredibly funny statement and Naeva will never know why.]

[bad_crowmance]

Heh! I could be subtle about 'em but I don't wanna.

[ He's going to ignore that part about him not liking opening up, thanks. ]

[desirestruth]

[And she'll let it slide.]

I don't believe you have a single subtle bone in your body. But it's your turn to name names.

[bad_crowmance]

Guess you'll never find out. Hlasoh, 80H, Lucien.

[desirestruth]

...Wed Lucien, bed 80H, behead...Hlasoh...

[she feels bad about it but Hlasoh isn't her type...]

[bad_crowmance]

I'd wondered if Lucien would get wed or bed!

[desirestruth]

You sleep with your spouse, Crow. That doesn't stop after the wedding.

[bad_crowmance]

Yeah but if there separate options, that leads to the conclusion that for some reason you're being stopped from bedding the person you wed.

[desirestruth]

I always saw it as you'd bed someone but wouldn't commit to a longer-term arrangement, myself?

[She is considering this, though.]

[bad_crowmance]

But if that's the case, why would anyone pick people separately for them instead of just going "hey, actually I'd wed AND bed Lucien and kill the other two options."

[desirestruth]

Because you can have people you'd only want to fuck for a fling, instead of repeatedly?

[bad_crowmance]

Then why pick the wedding option at all?

[desirestruth]

One, because a marriage alliance can tie two previously warring nations together, or at the very least strengthen the bond between nations at peace. Second, a marriage is a long-term partnership in legal, financial and personal senses. I know plenty people I'd sleep with but wouldn't trust as a partner in any sense of the word.

[She doesn't understand this line of questioning.]

Third, I am a Queen and have to produce heirs, I don't really have a choice in that, so I'm gonna pick to marry someone who'd at least help raise them.

[bad_crowmance]

Man, I'm glad I'm not royalty! That sounds like too much of a hassle.

[desirestruth]

You'd be surprised how much of being royalty is.

[A beat.] But then again, we do get the best houses.

[bad_crowmance]

Yeah okay, I'll give you that one.

[desirestruth]

It is what it is.

[bad_crowmance]

Yes, Your Highness.

[ He's teasing her. ]

[desirestruth]

Finally, some respect.

[She is joking back. But, she pauses, and considers the cards.]

Say, little brother...

[bad_crowmance]

Yeah, N?

[desirestruth]

Last one to the lounge pays for drinks.

[She gives it a second to sink in, to be fair...

and then TAKES OFF RUNNING.]