#h0nking

ᚐᚚᚌ ⊰ Another day, another time spent getting subjected to shenanigans and whisked off to a time and place she was unfamiliar with. This is some real Weird Plot Shit, but she was used to it.

     But what more concerned her was that off in the distance of where she was- she assumed it was Alternia. The climate and general atmosphere of this place were a lot like Alternia, but more... clear. Like it hadn’t been around for as long, so she made a wild guess that she was sent to the past.

     How far back? She didn’t know- but this guy she saw was huge. Like, drone huge. 

ᚐᚚᚌ ⊰ He was a bit unnerving, but she’d dealt with what could possibly be far worse.

     That might be a mistake for her to assume, though. She could be all the way back to the Beforan era, for all she knew. That’d be the worst, now that she thought of it. 

     Maybe she could finally get a bit of info from Marquise, though. Probably not without causing some sort of paradox, but again.

     She was used to bullshit.

     So for now she’d just kinda mind her own business while occasionally glancing over to Drone-sized McCloudHead over there out of both curiosity and concern for her own well-being.

      “ WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, MOTHERFUCKER?! “

He was on the verge of grabbing the other to toss him around for even daring to throw something at him but his curiosity was bigger for now. Not like he couldn’t break his bones in a couple of minutes.

Ooh, big scary boy. Val fluttered his ears and grinned a little, dancing away a couple of steps. Chunky in body and smiley in cheek, his redness was given away in his eyes and finny ears, while his face was covered in white and black paint, delicate and curling in the way it framed his eyes and his face, like a grinning candy skull.

“A brother in faith looking for a breath of fun!”

Sometimes...sometimes he just visited random coordinates. He could always get back out if things got bad, per his handy belt, and the collision detection always made sure he didn’t end up mid-something.

The Highblood rose an eyebrow, wondering if she really meant it. Of course he was trying to. It was part of his job description, so to say. His mere presence was usually enough to make Trolls feel miserable. Probably because of their own existence, facing such a high blooded specimen.

       “LIKE YOUR PUNY FUCKING SELF WOULDN’T GET THE MOTHERFUCKING JOB DONE ALREADY.”

He motioned her once more to sit down onto the blood smeared bench, surrounded by corpses. There were so many miracles dripping out of their useless shells to reveal their true glory and she got to sit among them and witness it. How was that making her miserable? She should feel honored.

       “ YOU WOULD NOTICE IT IF I TRIED TO MAKE YOU FEEL THE WICKED CHILLS RUNNING DOWN YOUR SPINE, LITTLE SPIDER. PRAY TO THE MIRTHFUL MESSIAHS THAT YOU NEVER GET ON MY BAD SIDE.”

It wasn’t the dead bodies that were sort of freaking her out, it was the way they were strung up on display. She’d had more than enough experience with death even as a wriggler, before the game and throughout it; she’d come to accept death as a part of her life. Still, as lucky as she was, she wasn’t stupid. She followed his direction and sat down. There wasn’t a spot on the bench that wasn’t covered in blood, old or fresh, and frankly she could appreciate the colours if it wasn’t so fucking dark in here. She wasn’t one to want to wash the stain of blood out of her clothes though, so she picked a spot where the blood looked the most dry.

(( don’t do this to me ))