12th Perigee Extra 1: Donât Think Twice
((This is a of an homage of the #TumblrLogOff protest. Served well with the new KH III song Donât Think Twice. Kept short and sweet.))
3 a.m. All was still in the temporary hivestem. Mayola finally managed to strip down into a sleek pair of warm sleepwear, perfect for lounging for another solid hour before even thinking about getting any sort of sleep. Unlike Valeba, who somehow managed to conk out on the couch without even making it into the actual respiteblock of the suite. But for Mayola, between the time zone shifts, the odd hours of the dance (they still had hours left in the night, yet brunch was coming at 11 a.m. for those who wanted it? What kind of schedule was that) and the general mood of the whole festivities succeeded in making it impossible for her. Not that such was bad, but any sort of value judgement didnât change a racing blood pusher.
Ideally, she needed to sleep. Thatâs what the recuperacoon is for: calm a troll in any emotional state and force them to rest. Were Icasui here, thatâs what sheâd tell her to do, at least.
Her pink palm husk buzzed loudly on the table, blaring out the lyrics to Cherry Bomb. Valeba jerked awake, grabbing around uselessly for anything on the couch. Mayola snatched it up in one quick swoop, hurriedly approving the call and putting the thing up to her ear before Valeba did something stupid. Like stab her palm husk for waking her up. That would be bad.
âMayola?â a frantic voice over the phone asked. âMayola are you there? Pleasssse tell me youâre --â
Pallia? What the hell was Pallia of all trolls doing calling her? Did Aisral need something? âGod, yeah. Yeah. Iâm here.â Mayola shook her head. âThe hellâs going on? Why dâya sound upset?â
âIs Dontoc sssafe? He hasnât anssswered his phone in hoursss and Iâm getting worriedâ
Oh. That was all she was worried about. No big deal. âAre you just worried âbout him again? Cause like, Valleyâs got it handled. She put a --â
âNo Mayola. You donâtâŠ.fuck.â There was a pause on the line, followed by Pallia swallowing thickly. âTurn on the TV.â
She looked over at Valeba, curled up tightly on the couch and, hopefully, asleep. âUh...Iâm not sure thatâs a good idea.â
âNo Mayola you need to see thisssss. Put the newsssss on. Now.â
The sudden authority in Palliaâs tone threw Mayola through a loop. âBut Val--â
âValeba needs to, too.â
Mayola groaned. She sauntered over to the couch, pushing Valebaâs legs out of the way just enough so she wasnât sitting on them. Not that it mattered. Valeba pushed herself groggily into a sitting position. âThe hellâs going on?â she rasped.
Mayola turned the TV on with a helpless shrug. No point keeping it quiet now. âJust Shorty. Iâm placating a fuckingâŠoh.â
As the television screen flickered to life, she saw exactly what Pallia was talking about. Images of cities, some she recognized and some she didnât, in literal chaos. Lowbloods with obscured faces with molotov cocktails marching through the streets. Midbloods evacuating from a burning officeblock, some perfectly safely through the door, others jumped out of top windows, shattering glass just to end it before it collapsed on them. Lusii rampaging through city streets, bulldozing everything and everyone in their path. Drones cutting down anyone who got close to them. Blues and greens of the upper castes painting the streets as frequently as the browns, yellows and reds of the bottom. No matter which city, the same carnage.
Distantly, she recognized the reporterâs voice speaking over top, but registered no words. Hell, the titles of cities that flashed over and over again looked like symbols on a screen until one of them looked distinctly like a symbol set of the city not far from them. And here they were, sitting ducks in a hivestem ignoring the whole fucking thing. How pathetic.
Mayola gripped her phone with a clammy hand. She dared not look over at Valeba.
âIs...howâs--â
âSandyhornâs fine,â Pallia said quietly. âWe turned on the newss before going to ssssleep. I just saw one of those cities, ssstumbled upon the name andâŠâ
The looming silence between them only broken by muffled, choked tears from the other end told Mayola everything she needed to know. Who knew how long sheâs been freaking out.
âYeah, weâre fine. Perfectly safe. Just some cancelled plans itâs soundinâ like.â
âSssssorry.â
âAinât your fault. But yeah, let Ace know the two of us are fine and if this somehow hits our shores, we sure as hell ainât goinâ down without a fight. Okay?â
âYeah, yeah. Okay. Can do.â
âAnd get some fuckinâ sleep. Please.â
âMmhm.â Mayola heard something shuffle around on the other side as she added, âBut ssseriously, if you see Dontoc can you...can you text me? He hasnât answered me in hoursss and if it werenât for all of thissss, I probably wouldnât be conssssserned but I am heâssss not like you and Valeba and--â
âRight, yeah. I get it. Val and I got this. You go sleep.â
Pallia hung up the call without another word. Mayolaâs gaze flickered back up to the screen. It cut away from the violence back to the reporters, a couple of unfazed bluebloods who spoke coldly about the whole topic, how callous these trolls are for putting undue stress on Alternia so close to the holidays.
âSo this is how it feels being a highblood, huh.â
She jerked her head over to Valeba. The brownbloodâs gaze was affixed to the screen, unfocused. At some point, she mustâve readjusted herself into a sitting position, knees tucked underneath her chin. âGetting to sit comfy in your ivory tower while the world falls apart around you.â
Mayola grimaced. She wanted to rebut, but what could she say? That it wasnât true? That Valeba was overreacting? Everything would be okay, because they would be safe, she could trust the man running it was hemoloyal enough, no one would want to touch him? With a sigh, she said, âYeah. Thatâs about how it works. Everything goes to shit around you while youâre in the only sunny spot and there ainât nothing you can do about it. I doubt theyâll touch here though. Her Imperious Sunshine ainât one to fuck around with galas that sing her praises.â
âWeâve fought them before,â she pointed out. âI get we canât do it now cause itâll look bad. I do. Teals talk and all that shit. But we already werenât going home until after 12th Perigee. This cityâs so close itâd be easy, and the both of know riots like this last until the damn city is decimated. That shit takes weeks. And no one else hereâs gonna give a shit.â
She wasnât wrong. Mayola fought drones for target practice. Valebaâs aim with a bow was the result of sweeps upon sweeps of honing it into deadly precision and aim. The two together, as sheâs found out more than once, were lethal together. So long as the chaos stayed mostly under control, they might be able to knock the drones off without word getting out off-planet of a seadweller assisting.
âYou realize Eeks would tell me no, right?â The words sounded hollow in Mayolaâs head. She mightâve said it sweeps ago, but now Mayola wasnât so sure. She might end up saying that sheâs upholding tyrian leadership and showcasing her power as possible Empress by standing up to the drones of the current one. More importantly, Mayola desperately wanted to slice and dice on in true 12th Perigee revelry and mayhem tradition. Combined with becoming a living, breathing incarnation of karma in at least one city toward a bunch of perfect targets for such and it all made it difficult to tell herself no.
âIâm not Icasui,â she said flatly. âThey deserve justice.â
âYouâll worry your moirail.â
âDontocâs got bigger things to worry about than me right now.â Valebaâs gaze turned to her. Even in the darkness of the room, Mayola felt the angry, determined gaze burn holes into her soul. âYou fucking know you want to stick it to those goddamn jackass, no good, hemoloyal fuckers. And what better way to do it than jumping out of that stupid, mile high tower and into the fray thatâll dirty their claws?â
Her breath caught in her throat. Sheâd never meet another troll who could speak to her like Valeba. Not in this lifetime, anyway.
The screen flipped back to the city. Mayola caught blood castes of all kinds fighting back. Bluebloods and yellowbloods pushing back in tandem. Olives and jades and rusts and teals taking advantage of their strengths for a common goal. All together, as if this were Sandyhorn and not a zone of high Empress control, cooperating. All except one caste.
Mayola couldnât see a single seadweller among the dissenters.
She placed a hand on Valebaâs knee, grinning silently. Now wasnât the time for words. She didnât need them. Valeba understood. There would be hell to pay, and the regular trolls werenât the ones in debt.



















