#tavomo

AT: i REALLY NEED SOME HELP, aS FAST AS POSSIBLE, 

You sit back, squirming and shifting, and read over the messages. They seem a little bit rude, and you decide that, seeing as you're desperate for her help, you'd better be more polite.

AT: pLEASE,

You look back up at the screen, certain you're in for more squirm-inducing taunting.

Instead, however, it seems something inexplicably great has happened.

AG: Oh, shit.

AG: Looks like Fussyfangs wants to talk a8out my Wriggling Day outfit.

AG: You're saved 8y her meddling! For now.

AG: If you think you're off the hook for your incredi8ly rude 8ehavior, Toreadouche, you've got another think coming.

AG: Looks like I have some scheming to do on your 8ehalf, Pupa! :::;)

AG: 8ye for now.

--arachnidsGrip [AG] ceased trolling adiosToreador [AT]--

Whoever this Fussyfangs person is, you want to give her a big hug, or maybe throw yourself at her feet in graditude. Well, actually, both of those things sound like they'd compress your abdomen a little too much for comfort, but still.

Who is that, anyways? Fussyfangs, outfit, meddling...

Oh, right, Kanaya.

KANAYA.

hEH, uHH, tHANKS rUFIOH,

i HOPE YOU ALSO HAVE A RELATIVELY ENJOYABLE DAY, aND RECEIVE ENJOYABLE PRESENTS,

You shove your hand into your pockets--for some weird reason, that always seems to help--and leave your room, heading off down the hall. The door of the ablution chamber is open, and the sight of the load gaper serves to tease your bladder even more. You're biting at your lip by the time you're standing in front of it, shifting your weight from foot to foot again as you reach to flip the seat up--stupid Tinkerbull and his stupid house rules--open the button of your fly as quickly as possible and tug, a little jerkily, at your zipper, more than ready for a nice, relieving pee.

Your zipper, unfortunately, does not comply.

You tug harder. No luck.

You grip your waistband in one hand and yank as hard as you can at the zipper. It doesn't give even a millimeter.

Your eyes fall on the meager collection of movies squeezed in next to all the Pupa Pan books on your bookshelf. Intriguing. You walk over and stand in front of it, scanning titles with your eyes.

After a moment, you start shifting your weight just slightly from side to side. After another few moments, you shift all your to your right leg and wrap your left ankle around behind your right one, putting a hand out on the shelf for balance. You know, just to get a little more comfortable.

Romance? No, not feeling sharp enough to keep up with all the n-drangles. Pupa? You almost reach for it, then remember how Tinkerbull was treating you earlier and retract your hand. You're not a wriggler.

Horror?

Huh. You haven't watched one in a really long time, not since that Rainbow Drinker one that came out when you were 4 and a half sweeps old. It has that scene where the little brownblood kid is wandering through the abandoned hive, and when the Rainbow Drinker jumped out at him you got so scared that you...

You are once again the young troll with the slightly uncomfortable bladder.

You shake your head hard, coming out of your reverie. Whoa, where did that thought come from? Sure, you're feeling a little hectored and babied by your lusus today, but why in God's name would you...

Maybe you're bored out of your mind, but that's no excuse for getting ideas like that.

You are now a small white fairy bull.

You fly back over to your perch on Tavros's shelf, placing the water bottle carefully down and then landing beside it. You figure the kid's probably had enough to drink for now, though if he's going to keep guzzling soda pop like that you're going to have to keep him on a strict regimen of water as a counterbalance. Thoughts of rotted teeth and stomachaches have been worrying you all week.

Walking in a few small circles, you quickly settle down, resting your chin on your front hooves, putting yourself down for a short nap. How much trouble can he really get up to while you're out, after all? It's so nice to have such a mild-mannered charge.