#stabbitystab

On the way to the little food place you’d seen, you bump into another troll. You almost get a bit angry til you realize who it is.

i understand that, friendo

i jts know if i post an open....it might get a reply? but probably not.

What’s something you consider is a special talent you can do?

>You were ‘evicted’ from your abandoned hive when some random brownblood kicked you out, so you were out looking for a new place. Maybe it was time to get a permanent home, something nice. You could always mooch off of a highblood, maybe succumb to being a pretty little arm rest or something. 

>Currently you wandered around aimlessly, mostly in a lowblood region, looking for any hive that seemed dead and abandoned. It didnt need gas or heat, you could easily wear a coat that was in your big bagpack. 

Your name is Raynus Thoore and goddamit what is with these hoity-toity highbloods and following you everywhere? Sure, you’d fucked up with that stupid quiz of theirs, but it was casteist anyway. Honestly, how you were supposed to know who the third grand highblood was? You don’t give a damn about the Dark Carnival and it’s weird (and frankly disturbing) cult bullshit. Just because you answered in what was, admittedly, in hindsight, a totally disrespectful way, doesn’t mean you were prime choice for culling!...

‘Grand Highboob’ isn’t even that big of an insult. In fact, you’d say it could be a complement. You suppose the purpleblooded tools with the dumb face-paint didn’t see it the same way you did. They were still following you; you could feel their murderous gazes on your finely shaped, beautifully muscled shoulders. They were doing that ridiculous thing where they ominously honk. It was like some messed-up honkbeast mating call. You need-- protection. Sure, you were insanely strong and super cool and all that jazz, but even you couldn’t take down a gang of angry subjugglators. There was at least five of the guys (in reality, there are only two, but like hell are you going to admit you’re scared of just three of them).

Ahead, long. Black hair. Tallish. Pale, pale skin. He looked creepy, and maybe important-ish. You skip up beside him, and thread your arm through this troll’s, hoping that that act alone doesn’t get you eviscerated.