Hels Rebellion

Chapter 43: Irony

Xelqua was, to say the least, disappointed. Not that anyone would have been able to tell with his careful, stable expression. Maybe Pearl could have been able to see, when they were younger and would spend time together, but not anymore. Not with where she was now. 

Pushing bitter childhood memories was easy, his focus was here and now - just as disgusted as he had always been with the hermits. They had let him down once again. 

He hadn't been aware of just how soft the hermits were. He knew they were far more pathetic and yielding than any of the NPCs - but he had assumed they wouldn't just... cry at the mention of their friends death. Sure, the helsians were upset when someone was killed or even injured- but they didn't just.. give up immediately upon the news. 

The entire process was supposed to go differently. Xelqua would tell them their friends were dead, they'd've become horribly upset and, perhaps, even angry, demanding some sort of  explanation. That part had at least went to plan. 

Xelqua wouldn't offer them an explanation. This would break them. What could be worse than knowing your ally was killed simply because he was unneeded! Nothing struck like the fear of unfulfilled potential, the feeling of being utterly useless. The hermits were supposed to cower, and beg for their lives! Try and convince him that they could be of use, just as the Helsians had when he took over. 

But they hadn't. They just began to cry. 

Even now it annoyed him. At the very least he was convinced he had broken their spirits, they'd be hopeless now, lying in their dungeon like the pathetic children they were. Yes... his plan hadn't gone exactly how he wanted.. but perhaps this was better! It was simply part of the process all along. With the hermits thinking Grian was dead... they'd not bother to escape! Oh, Xisuma had truly taken a bunch of cowards and they were the perfect tool to break.

Perhaps the two wouldn't server as the best source for any useful information... no, their NPC replacements would have to fulfill that role. But the hermits... the hermits loved each other so much! They may not be prime picking for information but they'd be perfect hostages.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

Bdubs was back to prying paint off the wall. Even Stress had stepped up, pulling down the paintings and digging through all the bathroom cabinets. The entire process had been more than unhelpful, but Bdubs couldn't help but crack a weak smile at the effort they were putting in. 

The only thing ripping the room apart had revealed another layer of faded wallpaper underneath, along with a few more stains under the carpet, littering a tile floor Bdubs had declared "wasted potential," with a few insults about the "shoddy" carpet that covered it. 

"Stress, can you help me move the beds?" Bdubs asked, finally giving up on the wallpaper.

Stress gave him an odd look with a nod and began to strip the beds of their blankets and sheets. "Of course.. why?" She tossed the blankets into the corner. 

Bdubs began to push the side of the bed she was on and she helped, "I think," he said between grunts, "there's probably something under them... or behind them, I don't know."

Stress hummed, but continued pushing anyway, ripping up more of the cheap carpets. 

The effort had also been unsuccessful, revealing nothing but more old carpet and patches of wallpaper missing behind the headboard. As Stress went to strip the other bed, she paused, staring into the headboard. The other hermit looked over to her, "Something up?"