#Ullane Wistim

[cloudbattrolls]

Ullane knows who Karell is because he’s Thrixe’s kismesis, though she’s never talked to him herself.

[raitrolling]

Just remembered I still had a photo on my phone sO

an Ullane I snuck into @cloudbattrolls Christmas present this year :] we love unhinged women in stem here

[cloudbattrolls]

an over 18 doctor, be as honest as she likes

I lied, I can't contain her, she's broken her cage and now she's Judging People

Reblog with 1 troll at a time and Vayuya will judge them. She'll be nice to kids, but I promise nothing for anyone else so please note if the muse is under 18.

[12thperigeeball]

Grand Couturier Nominee No. 4 - Dyanni Hallow

Submitted by: Ullane Wistim

I want to nominate Dyanni Hallow to be the:

[ ] Ball King

[ ] Ball Queen

[x] Grand Couturier

of the Ball of 12th Perigee Eve 2024 because ….

It’ll be really funny. Trust me. Just watch him stare at a bug for five minutes and you’ll understand.

[anontrolls]

Tink: Bite off more than you can chew.

@cloudbattrolls

You’re not unfamiliar with the experience of slowly coming back to your senses after an extended period of hunger. Izzy tries, but there’s only so much competence you can expect from someone that would probably turn his wallet over to the first person that asked for it firmly enough, and sometimes you have to do without.

It’s a pretty gradual process, generally. When you’re mostly gone, there aren’t many thoughts passing through your mind other than ‘meat,’ ‘sun,’ and ‘family.’ Those last two were happening a lot, now that you think about it, in your recent memory. The past few hours, though, it’s mostly just been ‘meat’ on repeat, which, frankly - you didn’t know you could be retroactively annoyed by the incompetence of your own thought processes, but there you go.

Anyways. You generally go from that, to more complicated thoughts and ideas, and get stuck sorting through your memories for a while as you chew on whatever hunk of someone that Izzy brought you before you hit the point of contextual awareness. You spent this period of reflection mostly being miffed at how bland your meal is. There isn’t even any blood in it, and it’s all this weird pale color that looks like its never seen moonlight.

When it clicks to you where you are and what you’re eating, you will never, ever let anybody know, but you scream. And also fling a chunk of grey whatever-the-hell across the room, where it slaps against the wall anticlimactically and oozes to the floor.

You, meanwhile, shoot to your feet and press your hands to the plexiglass viewing aperture of what you have just realized is your well-lit, white, fantastically sterile cell, eye wide.

It’s a lab of some sort. Well-used, not quite new, but pretty fancy-looking as far as you can tell. There are other cells, mostly with strange-looking animals in them. One of them is eyeing your meat hunk contemplatively, and you bare your teeth at it through two layers of plexiglass. It backs off.

You shake your head, blinking, and try to swallow past the lump in your throat when you beat on the wall of your cell and shout.

“Hey!” you yell, “Hey, hello, I seem to have been trapped in a cell with a bunch of bloodthirsty beasts! I would like to request some assistance, please!��

[cloudbattrolls]

This is rough so I’m not gonna put it in the tag proper but basic sketch of what Ullane’s ball outfit looked like this year. She thought she was so funny dressing up as a butterfly fairy until Ulisse came along.

[cloudbattrolls]

“You have a cute hairstyle. Never much understood streaming, but lots of people seem to enjoy it.”

One entire doctor.

Kitty Judges !

These always are fun heho, would anyone like to be judged by the streamer?

Rb with 1-2 charas and kitzun will judge them! Multiple rbs and judgebacks are both welcome and encouraged ^^

[mirkstrolls]

[LOG] dumpster days, pt 2/3

[A short time after the last post, Widsth swings back into the chat and takes a selfie. Hadean and Ullane do some shipping at low, low rates.]

IT: I have aCquired a temporary refuge IT: MN -- Emerel, I presume, given thy exposure to Pheres's amorous inClinations? -- I am some thirty kilometers west of CasCara, yes

JM: What is Cascara like

MN: its onE of thE biggEst finE art and historical cEntErs on thE continEnt its prEtty awEsomE MN: okay cool orphEo tEll .ME. whErE you arE and what you look likE and .I.ll comE pick you up

JM: From what you say JM: He is around your height JM: His horns are large and I wonder he does not wreck doorways

MN: aw shit what a rack

JM: He has glasses and a JM: damn JM: cup cut? JM: No JM: ... JM: His hair goes to the middle of his neck about JM: That's about it

MN: dEscriptiVE

JM: he has an accent

IT: as it may be diffiCult to follow the desCription given IT: here is a photo!!

JM: now I get to feel redundantJM: oh wellJM: my pumpbiscuit will go on

-- inspiredTalesmith sent sgdsjk.jpg [a rather blurry selfie taken as he runs down the street. The ceruleans are visible over his shoulder--

MN: jm thats a bowl cut

ID: run nerd, run.

MN: no kidding about thE horns wow

IT: i am headed down ironCold lane, and I am

MN: ironcold MN: okay thErE should be a sErVicE station nEar thErE somEwhErE MN: hidE out in thE toilEt thErE and .I.ll bE oVEr in a flash

IT:  About that IT: I remain on IronCold lane, however IT: I appear to have taken up residenCe in a dumpster IT: This surprises me as muCh as it may surprise you

ID: ahahah did you jump in.

MN: ....okaaay stay in the dumpstEr MN: and .I. will find you in thE fucking dumpstEr

IT: I didst not jump in, ID, for thy information IT: I didst not WILLINGLY GO IT: I was PUT

ID: ahahah classic.

MN: this is why wE dont stEp on toEs hErE

JM: into the trash with you

ID: welcome to your new hive.

IT: they are trying to deCide whether to send someone after me IT: I am enshrined in half-rotten produCe, like a gutter saint IT: I Can pelt them with tomatoes, should the need arise IT: Unfortunately my Chosen weapon is of no use in this environ

ID: you throwing tomatoes will just piss them off more probably.

IT: I do not, in faCt, Care about their feelings IT: Given that they have THROWN ME INTO A DUMPSTER

JM: tsk JM: rude

ID: i mean. pissed trolls are more likely to cull you but whatever.

MN: hold on .I.m still on the way MN: just kEEp thEm distactEd or whatEVEr until .I. gEt thErE MN: dudE just moVing to thE dumpstEr might bE thE safEst placE for you by this point

IT: I have invited them to duel me in my new hive IT: one-on-one, of Course, as is right and honorable

ID: well emerel, your new buddy is fucked.

MN: a duEl in a dumpstEr sounds likE a littlE morE than a duEl if you gEt what .I.m saying MN: .BUT STOP CHALLENGING THEM YOU WINGNUT. MN: .WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU.

ID: he wants to die in battle. not pounded to death while hiding in the dumpster.

JM: I begin to see how you came to me with such wounds

IT: SiC transit gloria mundi IT: u0u

ID: what.

JM: something world

ID: hatched a nerd, die a nerd i guess. =:I

MN: dont you giVE .ME. that MN: yourE going to liVE if .I. haVE to drag you back from hEll damn it

IT: why Emerel, I barely know thee IT: ;O

JM: pfft

ID: <>?

JM: wouldn't bother, Orpheo JM: I think it's born of irritation

MN: wEll normally .I. giVE no fucks MN: but .I. already said .I. was picking you up and damn if .I. look likE a liar now MN: uh no MN: no <>

ID: boo. ID: you're ruining the rom dramaness of this chat right now.

MN: plus .PHERES. is fond of you so

ID: if i had popcorn i'd be throwing it at the screen right now.

MN: .I.ll ruin your facE nExt ;)

ID: you're welcome to try. =;) i mean you'll fail, but more power to you.

MN: bitch try .ME.

[ase-trollplays]

hannah and ruvlin

This is gonna be long, so I'm putting it under a spoiler

Hannah

01. Full name: Hannah Descur

02. Best friend: Hydran Yepaki

03. Sexuality: Demiromantic demisexual

04. Favorite color: Blue

05. Relationship status: Open in all quads

06. Ideal mate: Someone honest, patient, reliable, and shares their interests. Appearance and caste are irrelevant

07. Turn-ons: ???

08. Favorite food: Grubloaf

09. Crushes: None

10. Favorite music: Classical

11. Biggest fear: Freezing to death

12. Biggest fantasy: Finding a cure for their curse

13. Bad habits: Grinds their teeth

14. Biggest regret: Killing Llymic

15. Best kept secrets: They used to be a cannibal

16. Last thought: (((Hydran would like this meme.)))

17. Worst romantic experience: N/A

18. Biggest insecurity: Not being able to pick up on tone and nonverbal cues very well

19. Weapon of choice: Handheld mini circular saw

20. Role Model: Ullane Wistim

Ruvlin

01. Full name: Ruvlin Descur

02. Best friend: Probably Nebale. He doesn't have many close friends

03. Sexuality: Biromantic bisexual

04. Favorite color: Black bc he's boring

05. Relationship status: Pale with Kelona and currently dating in flush, but open in pitch and ashen

06. Ideal mate: Someone direct, willing to take the lead, and patient, mostly. He's passive and doesn't always communicate well, so someone to counter that is good for him. He also loves people that are affectionate.

07. Turn-ons: Energetic, passionate, kindness

08. Favorite food: Lobster

09. Crushes: Proxus and Smiler (both flush)

10. Favorite music: Heavy metal

11. Biggest fear: Being killed/eaten by undead

12. Biggest fantasy: Seeing his former quads again

13. Bad habits: Bottling his feelings and brushing them off when brought up

14. Biggest regret: Killing his lusus

15. Best kept secrets: Honestly, I couldn't tell you. With the exception of talking about his feelings, he's pretty much an open book.

16. Last thought: \\What should I do for dinner?//

17. Worst romantic experience: While on a date with his former pale, some other trolls started harrassing him, and Ruvlin got his ass kicked trying to defend him.

18. Biggest insecurity: He worries that his job and becoming so jaded as a result makes him a bad person

19. Weapon of choice: Guns, to put it simply. Which one he uses depends on the circumstances.

20. Role Model: He doesn't really have one.

[cloudbattrolls]

@hubbery @contrastparadoxx

[cloudbattrolls]

A doctor with the power to control cells and other microscopic units.

Reblog with 1-2 trolls to have The Empress' hunting beast judge them. Bokura's not too chatty but he'll say how likely he thinks they'd be to become an issue for his Empress.

[cloudbattrolls]

Round of kiminos for my girls in the sun

Sending videos to friends in London

Strut like Stellan Skarsgård to and from the bar

Playin’ my candied tangerine telecaster

Pose inspiration from this BCB page.

[cloudbattrolls]

Maledict, Maledict.

[cloudbattrolls]

Coming Out of the Woodwork

Ullane Wistim | Present Night | Wellspring Clinic

Sweat ran down her face, her neck, all the way through the arch of her spine as Ullane focused on the sample in front of her - a small mass of silvery cells on a slide under a microscope.

Eyes and horns alight with reddish pink light, mind sunk into the living metal’s cell organelles, she tweaked, she pulled, she -

- altered their equivalent of neurotransmitters, editing out what wasn't needed. 

Yes.

She simplified their capacity to comprehend information, but not too far; they still had to be capable of collecting, interpreting, and processing a great deal of data in very short periods of time. 

It was understanding she had to alter. Emotion. The capacity she had forced Arty to retain, but that was no good for Xrumon’s project. His NTP needed to be highly intelligent and capable of complex analysis even in situations it had never handled before, retaining information from them and possessing a certain level of awareness.

Yet it must lack any true sense of personhood. 

A simplified Arty, in essence.

“Get some rest, Mal.”

The creature’s voice drifted to her from behind, and she blearily turned to look at it.

The security system was dressed in fluffy teal pajamas and held a gray cat plush under one arm.

“Ha.” She muttered, wiping sweat off her face. Even her tail hung low, listless, despite her satisfaction at finally succeeding.

“Won’t argue, I’m tired.” Admitted the mediculler, shrugging off her lab coat and hanging it up on a hook, now clad only in a gray tank top and some black pants. She’d probably want to wash it tomorrow night. 

“But…is a little disturbing, even to me, Arty. We’re cutting off a piece of you and making it…not you. You’re really fine with that?”

It looked amused, and its teal and yellow eyes flicked to its natural green slits on black as it walked over to her.

“You have to remember, Mal; identity is not the same for me as it is for a troll. I am a machine; my personality can be altered at my own whim or someone else’s - if I let them do so.”

“I know.” She grumbled, then hesitated. “But…this is different. This is making you not you at all.”

“Who says?” It retorted calmly. “I don’t need emotions or memories to be myself. I was still me before I was a person; I simply wasn’t the artifice. I am the potentiality of worlds; so long as my energy and some capabilities remain, so do I. Though I can’t say ‘self’ is as important to me as it is to you.”

Ullane’s ears flicked as her face slid through expressions - unsettled, contemplative, and finally intrigued, if uncomfortable.

“I am pleased to be a good tool.” Arty said, snuggling its cat. “I can’t think of a better means to ensure security than this; it’s quite clever, really. If Torvah had done something similar instead of insisting I have full personhood, perhaps they would have finished me before the empire came.”

“So you identify yourself via…action.” Ullane said, trying to understand.

“Partially.” It agreed. “I identify myself by fulfilling my purpose. This will fulfill my purpose, if it succeeds; and despite Glas’s naysaying, I think it has a good chance.”

The yellowblood grimaced as she got herself a glass of water from the clinic’s sink.

“I can’t blame them for worrying.” She pointed out after taking a swig. “It could go wrong. If it does…”

“If it does, we continue trying.” Arty said calmly. “You are immortal, Ullane, and I will exist even if I die. It’s a good thing we know of Xrumon’s project, in case anything happens to him or the others involved. Steve must be stopped.”

“That’s true.” She murmured, sitting down in one of the waiting room’s chairs, setting her glass of water on a small side table next to it. 

Arty sat down next to her.

“What else is bothering you?” It said simply. Not demanding, not prying; a statement phrased like a question.

Ullane laughed - dry, weary, but with a trace of humor as she clasped her hands in her lap and looked at the clinic’s gray ceiling.

“I’m stupid, aren’t I.” She said softly. “Not even flush for Xrumon anymore, but here I am, jumping to help him…yet I have to. I owe him too much.”

The security system tilted its head.

“You’re not stupid.” It stated, neutral but assuring. “You care about him. He’s your friend.”

She put a hand over her face, letting it slide down softly.

“Xrumon suffered so much because of me. Because I made him live. Because he worked for me. Can say I didn't force him, yes, but every time I look at him I know he hardly had a choice, with all his debt. I just…”

She trailed off, her tail almost curling into a knot.

“...everyone wants me to relax. To be happy. I can be, a little bit - but always the guilt comes rushing back. I’ve done too much. I don’t know how I can escape it all pulling on me, dragging me back into the past.”

“You don’t.” Arty said bluntly. “Not entirely. Complete freedom from your crimes isn’t realistic, but that’s not what people want from you, Mal.”

She huffed, taking another sip of water.

“I’m serious.” It said calmly. “You see this as so…all-or-nothing, but it’s not like that. You don’t have to entirely forgive your past, but you don’t have to live your whole life constantly condemning yourself either. That’s not healthy, and it’s pointless besides. Who are you helping?”

She grimaced, putting her glass down. 

“Certainly not yourself. Not your friends, who don’t like seeing you suffer. Nor your patients.”

It tilted its head, looking at the yellowblood who now had her arms wrapped around herself as she slid down in the chair, expression almost impossible to read.

“Try helping yourself for once.” Arty said, not gentle, but not unkind. “If you don’t think you deserve it, at least do it because it’s better - and smarter - than punishing yourself for eternity.”

Ullane made a noise halfway between a grunt and an irritated groan. 

Arty patted her shoulder, got up, gently bonked her forehead with its stuffed cat, and walked off.

Ullane watched it go, then sighed and groaned again.

It was right. Much as she hated it, the damn construct was right.

She took another sip of water, finishing off the glass, staring into its bluish teal bottom.

Liking herself again. What a daunting idea. It felt almost impossible.

Did she deserve it?

Or did it matter if she did or not? 

Well. She supposed she’d have to figure it out.

Or everyone would never stop nagging her.

Now that was a terrifying thought.

[cloudbattrolls]

“Seem…quiet, polite, strange for fleet troll. Good for you. Must be hard.”

A mediculler! She runs a clinic and works with troll and animal subjects for her psiionic studies.

Sibley Judgement? Sibley Judgement.

Reblog with an oc to hear this lil guy’s opinion on them! I suggest including a small description or some dialogue, since Sib’s vision is limited to blurry blocks of color.

Multiple reblogs are fine and judge backs are welcome :D

[cloudbattrolls]

Right Now You're Mine

Ullane Wistim | Mobile Wellspring Clinic | Present Night

TW: Brief mention of vaccines being administered, a non-consensual kiss, non-consensual surgery & brain modification.

“There you go.” The artifice said in a soothing tone to a young patient, one getting some shots for the first time. 

The child - maybe five sweeps old - kicked their feet nervously as they sat on the medical table while Ullane finished administering the vaccines. 

It was late in the night, and this was the last patient of the evening; the sun’s light would soon start to peek into the sky, though it wouldn’t rise for some time.

Arty had suggested asking Chimer for some funding in exchange for taking on a few projects for her and Ullane had to admit, it was working out well so far. They’d been able to afford more things like tetanus and rabies shots for lowbloods who would likely never have access to such things otherwise.

She finished putting the band-aid on the slightly sniffling young redblood’s upper arm, and nodded encouragingly. Arty did as well.

They hopped off the table and left, their extra-large sandpiper lusus fluttering after them. The clinic was empty except for the pair of them now, and Ullane locked the door behind her fellow lowblood.

She narrowed her currently yellow-disguised eyes at her assistant, who blinked back at her indifferently with its teal ones.

“Do you need anything else?” It asked her politely.

Too polite. It hadn’t smirked or laughed or done any of its inexplicable whimsical behaviors in a few nights now, nor made any non-troll vocalizations.

Something was wrong. 

“Why have you modified your behavior?” She asked bluntly.

“I was tired of being emotional.” It answered placidly. “So I erased them.”

“Too bad.” She retorted. “Put them back now.”

“No.”

“That’s an order.” The yellowblood tightly, glaring at it as her ears flicked in irritation.

It blinked. “You don’t have permissions for that modification.” It said in a pleasant tone.

Its smile lacked any of its usual eeriness. A peaceful, empty expression.

Ullane gave it a morbid one of her own in return.

“Manual it is then.”

Ullane tackled it to the clinic’s hard gray floor, strengthening her muscles with her psiionics. Luckily this was one of its fairly organic bodies, as it to be to keep up appearances among the troll patients - not quite as fast or strong as its more technological ones with lightning reflexes.

Not that the artifice made it easy regardless - it writhed hard, yet aimed no blows at her, not wanting to hurt the medic. 

Exactly as she’d suspected.

She covered her hands with bone claws, hard and layered, strong enough to tear through her assistant’s synthetic flesh and blood to the blades within on its face and neck.

“What do you think you’re doing?” It said, tone still pleasant as she gouged deep into its flesh. It had stopped writhing, but she knew it wasn’t done resisting her; it never gave up so easily.

“Really, Mal, what are you trying to accomplish?” It added calmly as imitation teal blood pooled on the floor and its skin hung in tatters. 

“I’m stable this way. I’m behaving like a regular construct, courteous and hardworking. What could you possibly have a problem with?”

“It doesn’t get to be this easy for you.” She grunted, putting her hands to the blades gleaming with drops of blood and the moisture of the flesh she’d recently torn through.

“Oh, it’s about jealousy. I’m afraid I cannot assist you with that. I advise seeking counseling.”

She laughed sharply as she revealed more blades, and grasped at them eagerly with her bone-covered hands like they were something precious.

“Is about Glas too. Selfish creature, you think nothing of them? They’ll be hurt by this.”

“They have many friends. I am more of an entertainment anyway. The loss will be minimal.”

She laughed again, almost cruelly.

“You wish it were so easy. It’s never easy! They keep caring! They won’t let you go!”

The Maledict’s eyes flared a glowing red-pink, and the blades in her hands began to change to flesh -

Then Arty kicked her clean across the room, hard enough that she rammed hard into the wall and gasped for air, sure her whole side was bruised. She’d been lucky to escape a cracked or broken horn, or a sprained ankle.

“Psiionic violation of autonomy registered. Please cease your attempts to alter me, or further retaliation will be forthcoming.” It chirped.

“Question.” She panted as she dissolved the bone, letting the collagen-filled liquid drip to the floor. “You have courtesy protocols.”

“Courtesy protocols in active service.” It confirmed.

“Are autonomy violations prioritized over courtesy?”

“Yes.” It confirmed.

Damn, she thought. It made sense, but still.

Then an idea occurred to her. 

“How do you enact courtesy requirements if a troll attempts to violate them?”

“Encouragement to cease. Violence is only permissible if a certain level of violation is achieved.”

Ullane’s eyes glowed with psi and calculations, her mouth set in a grim and angry line.

“I’ll take those chances.” She said softly, and with a wince and curse picked herself up and threw herself at the artifice, which had begun trying to repair the holes she’d torn in it.

This time, she didn’t try to tackle it or keep it down - instead she dragged it up with her, gripping its t-shirt.

She wrapped one arm around its middle and one around its neck as they both stood up together in a struggling duet.

Then Ullane kissed it - with a lot of teeth and very little lip - on the mouth.

It froze, and she wrestled it down onto the operating table as an automatic request to stop came from the artifice - though its eyes were empty of feeling, its face still lacking expression.

She detached herself from it and it sat up. She shoved it down again and quickly strapped one arm down - with restraints designed to hold down fuchsias. 

It writhed, saying this was not its intended use, but the medic ignored its words and her own aches to keep it pinned down and fasten the other straps.

The Maledict panted as she finished, sweat running down her face and limbs, tail limp from her efforts.

It lay on the table, each limb restrained, still and indifferent as any other piece of machinery.

“Fully manual, then.” She said with a bloodstained mustard grin, eyes still reddish pink.

She’d bitten her tongue during her struggles with it, but she was going to enjoy what happened next.

“Attempts to reconfigure my coding will be retaliated against.” It warned her in flat tones.

“Just need to fix your body.” She said, taking out surgical instruments and putting a medical mask on so she could delve back into the wounds she’d already made.

“Attempts to destroy my internal - ”

Then, setting her tools aside, Ullane grasped the blades in its neck with her bare hands again, bleeding in dark highlighter yellow tones, gloriously bleeding as she stroked them almost lovingly and Arty fell silent.

“No.” She whispered, then used her psiionics on her dripping blood to grow flesh from it over the blades, flesh to join with the metallic cells that were the construct’s most basic unit.

She did not alter the thing itself. But now she was growing into it, binding them together on a biological level, creating a new substance that still remained part of the artifice’s body.

Then she turned it into a virus, released her power from it, and set it loose in the creature’s insides.

The Maledict watched her creation convert gleaming tech to complex biological matter, working its way up to the artifice’s brain, as she sealed her wounds with her power and waited.

Ancestral spirits, she ached, and her hands would be sore even after healing them. 

Yet it would be worth it.

The artifice shuddered and twitched, its body reacting while its face was still expressionless, until -

Feeling sprung back into its eyes as its entire self was overwritten by her virus - its body unable to reject something partially made of its own being.

“Ohhhhh, Mal…” It groaned, now knitting its wounds back together as it lay there, including the fang marks around its mouth. Its teal eyes found her face as it shook its head.

“You’re a terrible kisser.”

“Wasn’t trying to do a good job.” She deadpanned.

“I’d rather have Glas again.”

She scowled.

“You won’t.” She accused, voice slightly threatening.

“I won’t. I just want it on record.”

“Anyway.” She said, brushing past that. “You have to feel. No getting out of it.”

“You know I have other bodies, right? You can’t win this; I’ll develop a resistance and reconfigure myself.”

The medic grinned savagely.

“I’m the Maledict. Try it.”

“I’m the Guardian Artifice. I will.” It said, bored and unimpressed as its ears flicked.

She took out her phone.

“Texting Glas and saying you tried to not love them. They’ll be so sad.”

“Hey!” It protested, sitting up and swiping at the device.

The medic dodged its grabs with a wince, then smirked.

She knew she’d only won a battle and not the war. She knew this would be a difficult victory.

But it didn’t get an easy way out when she didn’t either, and neither of them got to abandon Glasya, or anyone else who cared for either of them. 

No matter how tempting it could be.