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[Bet you wanna read this in a Google Doc instead. I will provide.]
While it is always easier when the marks come to the Underground upon finding themselves on one of Mole’s lists and he did find it endlessly entertaining, you somehow, selfishly, wished that this specific group of trolls didn’t get that memo. Often, he cited these submissions to the inevitable as being cute. It was rare that he didn’t find who he was looking for, after all. But it was one thing to see their names, crimes against the empire and all, fall onto his list. It was another thing entirely to watch them file neatly in front of his desk, an attempt to appeal for their lives.
You aren’t surprised, they were cowards after all. Intelligent? Yes. But it did not hold a candle to their cowardice.
One by one the three of them come to stand before him, their new judge and jury. And one by one still their eyes fall on you, those eyes seem fit to start falling out of skulls when the realization hits.
Isn’t he dead?
This can’t be.
What?
One need not be able to read minds to see it, the surprise painted on their faces left little mystery as to what they were thinking. Three sets of eyes, two teal and one brown, fixed on what must most certainly be a ghost.
Your gaze lingers on the brown blood the longest, and for a moment it is so silent that one could hear a pin drop.
Mole clears his throat, and the two midbloods lock eyes with him instead. You, however, are still trapped in a terrible staring contest with the biggest coward in the bunch. Your mate adjusts himself so that he can better rest a hand at your back.
“You wanted my audience. Do not waste it.” Though there is the usual bit of humor he had with these cases in his voice, something a little more sinister lurked beneath. A trained ear could make out the disgust that started to pull its way to the surface.
More silence.
“Speak.” He demands, when they do not take the hint.
One of the teals speaks finally. Kaeski, so charismatic, always taking the lead when there is big trouble ahead. They had a way about schmoozing with authority to get out of a jam, sometimes swaying even the staunchest pro-empire fleet official onto their side. That was always the plan. Strike a deal, we can be an asset to you.
You hear the words before the sentence leaves their mouth.
“We can be an asset to you and your people.” Despite the scare your appearance must have given them, their voice is steady and filled with the confidence of a troll that has made a deal like this and hundreds of others before. “Resources. The unaligned resources that we have access to will see to it that your community continues to thrive.”
Mole sits back, using two fingers to rub your back rhythmically. He thinks that this appeal is cute, almost comical in its futility.
“We heard that you serve yourself before the empire.” They continue, offering Mole a deal he can’t refuse. That was their favorite line. Followed by their most charming of smiles. “How can you refuse a deal like that?”
And there it is, punctuated by two neat rows of teeth. Dazzling on the surface, lackluster in the glow of the fairy lights that illuminate the room.
“Is that all?” Comes your mate's curt response, he is less than impressed.
Kaeski is silent for a moment, searching their mind for a preloaded line to get them out of dodge. The other teal blood, Fidoni, finds himself lost in Owl's unrelenting stare. Tucked into Moles other side, it is easy to miss them at first comparatively. They watch the trio with vitriol much harsher than your shared mates' judgment.
That leaves you swimming in the wide eyed stare of the brown blood, Isease. She looks fit to take off in a sprint. If only Mole held these meetings closer to the surface.
But he is much smarter than that.
“Whatever you want. It’s yours.” Another stock phrase from their spokesperson.
“Rest assured, this is always true.” He smiles. “You will not like what I want, however.”
Kaeski opens their mouth to speak, but Isease beats them to the punch with a voice that rings out against the high ceilings of the burrow and bounces along it until it finds its home in your skull.
You wish it didn’t.
“Saixas! Please, tell him to give us a chance. Please, I’m so sorry! If I only knew you lived!” If I knew you would make it.
You squeeze your eyes tight to expel the sound of her voice from your head in the same instant that Mole tightens his arm around you protectively. Her voice, uttering your name, rattles around in your skull with reckless abandon.
“Saixas!”
When you reopen your eyes, you are no longer in the safety of Moles arms, or in the Underground at all.
Instead, you are perched in a tree, running lookout and communications on a mission gone awry. It’s been a difficult one, something you would call whatever the opposite of a success is called. Right, failure.
Maybe if they listened, or if you were a touch more convincing, you wouldn’t be stuck unarmed in a tree with bullets whizzing past you, obscured by the pouring rain that turned the makeshift battlefield into a confusing muddy mess.
“You good up there, Sai? We in the clear?” Came Kaeski’s voice over your ear piece. They sounded like this was just another weekend. How is it that they were always so calm at times like this? Perhaps that’s why they were the leader.
“Define in the clear. Is that another way for saying we’re fucked? We’re surely that.”
They laugh.
“How about this, anybody shot?”
The other two give their negative responses just as a bullet passes literally right by your head.
“Not yet anyway. They have no idea where the two of you got off to. They’re shooting aimlessly. And mostly up!” You work so hard to quell your nerves as you speak, emulating Kaeski’s level-headedness to the best of your ability. “Not exactly their best and brightest at this compound. I’m coming down.”
Isease gives a thumbs up from where she sat at the tree's base.
A second barely passes, you don’t even get the chance to move, before one of the wayward bullets finds its way into your left shoulder.
Ah, fuck.
Adrenaline happens to be a hell of a drug, and you begin your descent regardless. Lest the next one hits something a little more important.
“All good, Sai?” Isease’s voice is in your ear. She is more scared for herself than worried.
That could have been me.
But it wasn’t.
“In and out.” You manage through a grimace, more focused on climbing down the side of the wet tree.
“Fuck, tell me you didn’t get hit up there, Sai.” Kaeski again, you run the risk of a motivational speech if you validate their fear.
Instead, you grapple with the side of the tree, the three voices in your ear blending in with the rest of the background noise. There is a lot of emotion in the air, and it distracts from your new mission of get feet on the ground.
You’re halfway down when it happens again, a shell explodes directly into your right hand, forcing it to surrender its already feeble grasp on the wet bark. The impact with the unyielding earth, saturated from the rain, happens suddenly and so thoroughly knocks the wind out of you, you didn’t feel the third bullet enter your side.
Small blessings.
“Sai?” Tell them he was dead before he hit the ground. We’ll be sitting ducks.
Isease stands over you, her cover the tree that proved useless in its aid to you.
“Saixas, that was a rough fall. Are you okay?” Her words betray her intentions, and no words come to you in time. You watch helplessly as she pulls the earpiece off of you.
“He, uhm.” Look at those shallow breaths, he won’t make it anyway. “He’s gone guys.”
She mouths an empty ‘I’m sorry Saixas’ and carries on through the brush.
Squelch!
The sound of rubber squeaking against itself, tightly wound around a fist, brings you back to the present. The ruffling of feathers and, ironically, the smell of wet earth cements your place in it.
That must not have been a very long trip, but Mole is on his feet. Anger cascades off of him in waves as he regards the now cowering trio. At some point, Owl got your hand in between theirs, they rub it against their cheek sympathetically.
“Do not address him.” He did not raise his voice, but the rumbling growl that accompanied it commanded the attention of the entire room. “I was kind enough to hear your case, and this is your thanks?”
He is focused squarely on Isease. From where you are seated, it looks almost as though the floor has come alive around her. Disembodied hands sprouting from the writhing mass, reaching for and grasping all around her from foot to waist.
“Utter his name again, so that you may die with it on your tongue.”
HI I’m Erika. I’m 20, a junior at oklahoma state university, studying psychology with a minor in philosophy, but i’m also pre-physical therapy. I love music with all my heart; i play piano and sing, starting to learn guitar, used to play clarinet and i was in colorguard for the longest time. I’ve seen twenty one pilots once in concert and i’m seeing them again this summer! i love giving advice and being there for people to rant to (good or bad). I always answer messages and i try to be encouraging, but sometimes i get really sad, and i apologize in advance for that. I’ve been diagnosed with anxiety (social and general) and depression. i’m still figuring myself out, but i know i’m demisexual and i think i’m biromantic? i’m so excited to get to know you guys!
