#kharak atwoos

[cloudbattrolls]

Underculture

This drabble is preceded by Rule of Law.

Hazard Ailaht | Present Night | Beneath Selatak

Hazard hardly dared look around as the hyena bounded across the noisy streets, terrified they’d crash, terrified it would throw him off as he clutched at its furry body with thick fingers. He shut his eyes to keep himself from panicking entirely.

Then - maybe a few minutes later, maybe several - the noise of the city cut off, the air got cooler, and he felt them go…down. With a mechanical, clanking sound, he realized they were using what must be an old elevator.

But how would a hyena know to do that? Was a bronzeblood controlling it somehow? No - surely that was impossible from this distance, even if the troll was using mind honey…

He opened his eyes a crack, cautious but curious. They widened as he realized he and the beast carrying him were descending far, far beneath the ground, and Selatak was already barely above sea level, island city-state that it was.

It was dark, almost stiflingly black. The little he dared to move his head provided no change in visibility as they went deeper.

He tried not to panic. 

“Gods and spirits, if you can hear me…” he murmured. “Please help me with whatever’s coming. I may be ignorant, but I mean no harm. I never wanted those clowns to die.”

He had to take a deep breath. Calm. Try to be calm. Or at least not lose it entirely.

Finally, with a thud, they reached what he assumed was the bottom.

The hyena shook itself and growled, and strangely he thought he could feel its impatience. He had an idea that it wanted him to get off.

The blueblood did so, if somewhat clumsily, given the darkness and his stiff limbs.

Then there came a rushing, cracking, bizarre rush of noise and air -

- and the elevator doors opened, dim light pouring in as they slid away with a clatter. He couldn’t quite identify what its source was, only that it was coming from several feet off in this cavern they’d apparently descended to. 

The hyena was gone.

Instead a tall man - tall as his ancestor and even more muscled, visible skin dotted with scars - now stood beside the librarian.

He blinked, mouth agape as the man began walking.

“Shifter.” He murmured in wonder. His friends had told him, but he’d never imagined…

“Yeah, that’s right, kid.” Said the man - short-haired, dressed in camouflage gear - in a rough if not disdainful voice, now several paces away and more visible. 

“Now follow me, you can go gaga about it later.”

Hazard followed, stumbling a little across the rocky floor as he got feeling back into his arms and legs. What else could he do? Fight? Interrogate him?

Neither were his way, and both seemed like a terrible idea given the circumstances.

“Where…are we?” He managed to pluck up the courage to ask, though he wasn’t sure if he’d get an answer. “Why did you take me down here?”

The werehyena snorted.

“We all decided after what Roscur’s stupid ass pulled that we had to intervene before the clowns could cull you. Not fucking fair, is it? You never asked for this.”

Hazard, stunned, mulled this over for a few seconds.

“I…thanks, but Lizzie was going to defend me. She would’ve gotten me off, I’m sure of it.”

The taller man laughed unkindly.

“They say you’re supposed to be smart. Use your fucking brain, kid. Even if you’d been pardoned, you think they would’ve let you run around free for long? No. You know how clowns work. Unless there’s blood, they’re not satisfied. Not after that many losses.”

He gritted his teeth, letting out an animal-like huff in frustration.

“That’s why we don’t operate that way. That’s why Roscur is the biggest fucking idiot ever hatched and he’s going to drag us all down with him.”

He looked up at the distant rocky ceiling, then shook his head and laughed again, unpleasant and now hyena-like.

“Don’t we seem down to you? Isn’t this deep enough we’ve been forced to hide? Fuck, maybe you can’t get it, you’re a blueblood. Then again…”

He looked at Hazard.

“You know what it’s like. With that ancestor of yours.”

The scorpion-snake troll shuddered.

Yes. He knew.

The man nodded, and finally they made their way into a large room carved out from the rock.

Inside was the strangest assortment of trolls Hazard had ever seen. Some almost looked normal, but their eyes, ears, or horns gave them away. Others seemed like things out of story books; he wasn’t even sure they were trolls.

He saw a couch and went for it, sitting down heavily.

The werehyena snorted softly, but Hazard was too tired and baffled to care. He looked away from everyone’s gazes, a mixture of curious and wary eyes all pointed his direction.

Mutants. He was sure at least half of them were mutants. And the ones that looked more normal…he’d be willing to bet they were shifters, or something.

But the one that had brought him down hadn’t hurt him.

So why was he here?

“Uh, heeeeey, hi, Mr. Ailaht.” Said a maroon girl, one with a pointy nose and rather homely face. She had buck teeth and dirty nails, and she fidgeted as she talked.

“I’m Rattus, and this is the Dicemaker…” she gestured to a quiet older man sitting cross-legged on a cushion, his hair streaked with gray. His caste was impossible to tell, head tilted down.

Then she gestured to the werehyena.

“That’s Kharak, you’ve met him…uh…shoot. I forget what I was gonna say.” She said, biting her lip, then she grimaced.

“Right, uh, sorry for grabbing you. Kharak said why, right?”

“You don’t want the clowns to hurt me.” Hazard offered, but his expression was politely confused. “But…who are all of you? What’s your connection to Roscur? Why…why do you care so much what happens to me?”

He tried to sound politely curious instead of suspicious, but he couldn’t help wondering. The whole situation was so odd. 

Kharak and Rattus exchanged a look - hers worried, his a grimace - but it was the Dicemaker who spoke up.

The older man looked up at Hazard, and he finally realized his eyes were a faded green; it was impossible to tell if they were olive or jade. His expression was distant, as if his mind was elsewhere, but his words were clear enough. 

“Panzen is one of ours.” He said quietly, and the room of strange people hushed as they hadn’t for the maroon or the werehyena.

“We are Selatak’s unwanted, its underculture of mutants, mages, and other such folk. Most of us live down here, but some such as Kharak and Panzen live on the surface. We do not like what he does with his gang, but he sends us money and goods we can hardly refuse. And it is our fault for failing to protect him when he was young.” He sighed wearily. 

“What?” Hazard asked blankly. “I’m sorry, I’m still pretty lost. I know magic exists - some of my friends are mages, though, uh, Kharak’s the first shifter I’ve ever met. But I still don’t see what this has to do with why he apparently stole my venom and started using it to kill people? I think?”

He cringed at making such a direct accusation, but given everything that had been said…

The Dicemaker studied him, those faded eyes suddenly turning sharp as he sniffed the air for some odd reason, then nodded.

“You truly don’t remember.” He murmured. “You must have suppressed it.”

“Suppressed what?” Hazard retorted too quickly. “I’m fine.”

“The carnival. That night Goh Tat asked you to cull a mutant -“

Noise in his ears.

Laughter. Striped canvas. 

“No.” He mumbled. “I don’t -“

A cluster of cages all gleaming, shining metal and soiled insides. The stench of troll misery, such a sharp contrast to the animal tent, its inhabitants well fed and well cared for.

Mutants were less valuable than beasts.

Goh Tat’s hand on his shoulder. Tight. Too tight. Making sure he wouldn’t run away.

A girl with hair so dirty he couldn’t tell what color it was. A tail of some kind. They said she was a cat and lizard mixed with a troll…

So why were her eyes - a strange but lovely silver - full of fear just like his?

Just like Bohaai’s?

“No.” He moaned. “I don’t - don’t make me -“

Remember.

Hazard held his head in his hands.

He’d spat venom at a clown to get the mutant free. In their face. 

Then another. 

Shouting. Cursing. 

Then all was quiet.

“For your donation, Goh Tat, we will forget this happened.” Came a pleasant voice as he heard the rustle of stacks of bills. “I will make them all forget. Voodoos are wonderful that way. But you owe us a new mutant.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Said the cerulean dismissively, waving a hand. “You’ll get one. I’ll teach my stupid kid a lesson. We’re square.”

After that, it had taken Hazard weeks to walk without pain. 

In the present, he sobbed, now on his knees on the cold stone floor.

“Why…?” He whispered as he saw the greenblood’s eyes crackle with magic. “Why did you…?”

“That was Panzen.” Said the Dicemaker. “You saved him. He never forgot.”

“Now he repays me with this?!” Hazard cried, blue tears running down his stubbled face. “Murder?!! I never asked for that! He made it look like it was my fault!! Why!!!”

“Yeah, that’s why I want to beat him over the head.” Kharak growled. “He’s a little fucked. Anyone would be, running off and getting raised by Hakket fucking Ixodes, but he’s still a champion bulgewipe. Aside from screwing you, it’s just gonna make the clowns crack down harder. He’s stupid. But no, money and murder were just too much of a temptation for his dumb ass.”

“Money?” Hazard asked blankly, rummaging in his sylladex for tissues. 

Kharak rolled his eyes. “You think mamba and deathstalker venom come cheap? Especially mixed together? He’s been selling the shit too, just pretending it’s some new poison.”

“Great.” Said Hazard numbly, slowly wiping his face dry. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take.

The Dicemaker’s expression softened.

“That’s enough for now. We have food, if you’d like some.”

“Yes.” Said Hazard instantly.

—

It was the strangest meal he’d ever eaten, only feet away from almost three dozen mutants and mages, but it wasn’t bad. 

He quickly ate up his first plate of chicken and rice with vegetables and was given a second, then a third, and after that one Kharak snorted and told him they’d have to start charging him for more.

Hazard blushed blue and looked away.

They probably struggled to get fresh food…

“I know we have little right to ask, but we could use your help, Hazard.” Dicemaker said to him after he finished his meal.

“Huh?” He said, baffled, sitting on the couch again. “What can I do? And I can’t stay down here forever.”

“We know.” The greenblood assured him calmly. “We will take you back no matter what, but we would like to rescue Panzen, if it is still possible.”

“Rescue?” Hazard repeated, and then he felt dread well in his stomach.

“Oh no…” He whispered.

Dicemaker nodded grimly, and with one upturned palm he produced some silver dice that projected a hazy image of the mutant gangster.

He was, once again, held in a circus cage. 

The Day Howler sat with a cool expression, arms crossed, but Hazard saw how his tail curled around his body, the way his ears pressed down as he struggled to swallow past his psi suppressing collar digging into his throat.

“What can I do?” He whispered - frustrated, helpless. “I’m not brave. You have magic. You don’t need me.”

“You’re a blueblood.” Kharak said roughly. “You can get into his execution ceremony. All the sects he hit are in on it, making it into a real party tomorrow evening. You and I could save his sorry ass, see him get justice the right way. Not from clowns. Not like this.”

Hazard laughed softly. It was all so insane. 

“You said the clowns won’t rest until they have blood.” Hazard pointed out. “How do we save him and still appease the sects?”

The olive wore a vicious grin.

“I didn’t say we won’t hurt him.”

Then he tossed back his head and let out a mocking hyena cackle, the sound echoing through the caves below Selatak.

[cloudbattrolls]

Rule of Teeth

This drabble is preceded by Underculture.

Hazard Ailaht | Selatak | Present Night

Hazard stood in line, surrounded by chattering trolls; not a single one was below teal, as far as he could see. The line was long enough - and the clientele were rich enough - that vendors and performers of all kinds had flocked to them. The smells of sizzling street food and trolls calling prices filled the midnight air.

For once, Hazard was barely tempted by all the food on offer. Instead his eyes flicked between all the trolls around him, and toward his destination.

As Kharak had said, Selatak’s sects didn’t let just anyone into their executions or parties, and this was meant to be both. A grand culling fit for the gangster who had vexed them and the policeradicators so often.

He wished he’d gotten a chance to tell Lizzie he was back, but he knew she’d have a million questions and demand answers. For now it was better he disguised himself with a charm Dicemaker had given him and pretended to be just another blueblood in the crowd. 

His bulk made him stand out a bit, but his slow, careful demeanor made trolls dismiss and ignore him, happy to gossip with more talkative members of the line or to buy things from the hawkers. 

They’d disguised his voice too, but it was still better to draw as little attention to himself as possible. The clowns couldn’t know he’d been here.

Even if they did believe him innocent, he certainly wouldn’t be after he was done here.

Hazard, he heard faintly in his head. S’not in good in there, but not worse than we thought.

Eerie sensation, but at least the voice was one he recognized. 

Rattus, currently in her natural form. 

She’d explained earlier during their planning session that she really was a rat, magically given the ability to change into a troll, so he guessed the name made sense. Still wild to him in principle, but maybe it wasn’t so different from Jikiro’s tanuki lusus.

The reverse shifter had gone ahead to scout inside the circus - specifically, the Moons’ Eyes compound. They had one of the biggest territories in the city and Chiloa Teroct was happy for any opportunity to express his goodwill toward the other sects by inviting them in with open arms. 

According to the gossip of the other trolls in line, he even had fireworks planned for after the execution had taken place.

‘Pretentious prick’, Hazard could almost hear Plaske scoff in his head as the line finally moved a bit and he took a few steps forward. 

He wondered what the Dreamweaver leader thought of all this. 

Would they be here too?

What are their defenses? He finally responded to Rattus, feeling a bit guilty for his straying thoughts. 

Bunch’a big guards, plenty got clubs but I’m sure some have guns too. Kharak could take care’a them, but it won’t be quiet, an’ we’re gonna need him for grabbing Pan. Can you do somethin’ with your venom?

He winced reflexively, then remembered she couldn’t see him. The temporary communication spell Dicemaker had put on them and Kharak only relayed words, not emotions or facial expressions.

Yes. But I’m not hurting them more than I need to.

He could practically feel her sigh over the mental link.

Aight. Do it your way, but make sure it’s done, buddy. I got a looong life to live now, an’ I don’t wanna waste it gettin’ shivved by a honker.

Long life? But she was maroo - oh, right. He guessed even a maroon’s lifespan would seem long to a wild rat.

He moved again as the line did, and realized with a surge of nervousness that he was close to being let in. Close to having his blood tested and possibly being chucklevoodooed…but Dicemaker had assured him that his protective charm would hold, just as it would for Kharak and Rattus if any clown attempted to use their powers on them.

Hazard hoped very, very hard that the old greenblood was right, or their whole cover could be blown in moments.

He wished the man could have just teleported Panzen out, but Dicemaker had explained that he wasn’t a powerful enough mage for that; none of the ones down below were.

You are friends with mages, yes? He’d remarked when Hazard had bluntly asked him why it couldn’t be that simple. Could they achieve such a feat?

The blueblood had realized, being asked such a question, that the answer was almost certainly no. Velour’s skills lay primarily in illusions, and while Jikiro’s ink magic seemed pretty versatile, he was far from all-powerful. 

Maybe Mùirne could’ve done it, Hazard reflected as he finally walked up to the bored-looking blood tester, but he was realizing their power set was unusual. 

“Wrist.” Yawned the purpleblood on duty, their ears flicking impatiently. 

Hazard had always been glad to not have mobile ears. He hardly minded them on others - he found Eirror’s large round ones quite charming - but they gave away so much in terms of emotion that he was happy to not have that particular tell.

He obediently stuck out his outstretched arm - thick, a pale shade of gray, somewhat sweaty from the usual heat of the city - and the clown briefly took it in their strong fingers, gripping it firmly.

Their claws cut him just a little, a painful but narrow slit; he was sure the pressure would’ve pierced even a seadweller’s tough skin. Their expression was so casual and uninterested that they must have done this a thousand times.

They watched a few drops of standard cerulean leak out as their eyes glowed a soft indigo, then waved him onward and washed their claws off in a nearby bowl of water.

Hazard’s shoulders lowered in relief as he walked deeper into the circus, pretending to follow the neon signs that led to the seating set up around the execution stage. He hadn’t realized how tense he was.

He let some newly approved trolls jostle around him, and - pretending to look confused - slipped off toward the clusters of guards on the stage’s stairwells instead.

Rattus, he said. If you could be a distraction, I can take care of them. 

If one’a them steps on me, you owe me, library boy.

I will. Thank you.

He heard a snort of laughter from her in his head and after a few moments, he saw a brown streak of fur dart through the guards on the left stairwell.

The indigos swore and began swatting at the rodent as she darted among them and nipped at their ankles, evading their grabs and the flails of their clubs. Luckily, enough trolls had poured in that no one was paying much attention to the guards.

This was going to be tricky timing-wise, though, and he’d have to be very careful. Good thing he’d eaten things to boost his venoms’ toxicity before he left the cavern; he’d need as much potency as he could get right now, even if only as a last resort.

Hazard took out a handful of magical sparklers and miniature fireworks, tossing them among the clowns; to anyone watching the purple and gold bursts of light, he’d just seem like a drunk or overenthusiastic celebrator as he dodged around the confused, disoriented purplebloods.

That wouldn’t hold them for long. He had seconds.

Rattus, can you cover me? 

Sure I -

Her voice cut off and his heart sank as - just reaching the top of the stage stairs - he turned back around to see her held by her tail, struggling in a clown’s grip.

He was out of sparklers. Too far to use his venom.

Hazard took a thick dictionary from his sylladex and launched it directly at the clown’s head.

He’d never been good at aiming, but luckily the troll had tall horns, and they swore as the book crashed into them, allowing the wererat to bite their hand and escape.

Then he heard confused calls and shouting from the stage’s other stairwells and his face drained of color.

Oh no.

He looked at Panzen’s cage in the center - so close, but so far. He wasn’t going to be able to unlock it. He wasn’t - the clowns were thundering up the steps, he -

Rattus launched her furry body across the stage, fiddled with the lock, and then vanished.

I did it, she said. But I’m stuck in here with Pan ‘til Kharak can make his move. Buy us a minute or we’re toast.

Hazard took in a deep breath.

He waited until all the clown guards converged on him, blessing his current immunity to their powers as their eyes flashed in dozens of colors.

He let it all out in a massive cloud of venom, one so thick and potent it was more akin to fog, and the clowns - eyes unprotected, noses breathing it in, utterly unprepared - began to cry out, shake, and fall, writhing in agony on the stage as the grayish white fog attacked their bodies.

He moved around them as quick as he could, avoiding their flailing limbs to get to Panzen’s cage, and he hoped the cloud hadn’t hit him too -

- when a deep, loud growl sounded, and with weak-kneed relief the blueblood almost wept as Kharak leaped in a graceful arc from the audience and landed on the stage, shaking it slightly from the massive hyena’s impact.

The audience gasped as one.

Panzen burst from his cage and jumped on Kharak’s back. 

The hyena growled again, even louder and ran again, this time leaping so high he cleared the wall at the back of the stage with only his belly fur lightly brushing the partition.

Then the sky came alive with a burst of lights, crackling in every hue of the hemospectrum, forming...letters?

It seemed to have a transfixing effect on everyone else; no one else rushed to help the prone indigos, no one went after Kharak.

Awed, Hazard couldn’t help watching even as he took his chance and hurried away again, wondering who was putting these on; it couldn’t be the clowns.

It was only as he hurried past the befuddled blood taker and away to safety that he realized what the fireworks were spelling out, over and over again.

A threat. A promise. A refusal to give in even to the city’s strongest.

WE WILL PUNISH OUR OWN.

[cloudbattrolls]

Rule of Law

This drabble is preceded by Vitiation, and followed by Underculture.

Hazard Ailaht | Selatak | Present Night 

Hazard stared blankly at the court summons sitting on the table in front of him, not comprehending a single word.

“What do you mean I’m accused of the deaths of dozens of clowns?” He said, completely bewildered as his blue eyes flicked up and down the page, trying to find any sense in it. 

“Probably that you’re accused of the deaths of dozens of clowns, Hazard.” sighed Lizzie impatiently, sitting across from him with her arms crossed as she leaned back in the dark wooden chair. 

He’d called her as soon as he’d opened the envelope and read it the first time, stunned, needing someone to show up and make sure he hadn’t lost it. Luckily, it hadn’t taken her long to come over; it was close to light out, they’d both long since gotten off work. 

A vague flicker of thought also reminded him he needed her legal advice. 

“I mean that’s crazy!” The blueblood said, waving his hands. “Where would I even find the time? Not like I have a library to run or anything. Not like I’m any good at being stealthy, especially in a circus. Let me just hide behind the nearest tent pole, that’ll work. I’ll be invisible for sure.”

The legislacerator snorted. 

“Disguise tech, Hazard, you ought to remember given Goh Tat had it.”

“Well, I don’t.” He said, rubbing his eyes. “Can I just walk in, let them look at me, search my hive, and realize the odds of me pulling this off are about as high as the governor deciding he’s going to sponsor the arts next sweep?”

“You could’ve had accomplices, Hazard.” Lizzie said in a voice that was trying valiantly to be patient. “Use your brain, I know you have a good one.”

“Ughhhhh, I don’t want to go to court, Lizzie.” He said, voice muffled slightly as he held his head in his hands. “I hate court. It was bad enough I had to go with you to get control of the bloodline transferred to me, and I wasn’t in trouble then.”

“Stop whining.” She retorted, reaching across the table to rap him gently on the arm with a pen. 

“We’ll figure this out. You’re lucky they’re doing this official way instead of just having someone kill you. They’d technically be within their bounds, though without evidence their case is a lot shakier. Probably why they’re going through the courts; they recognize on the off chance they’re wrong, you’re the one person who might have more information for them.”

“I really don’t.” He said bluntly. “All I can think of is that someone at the hospital is synthesizing and selling my venom on the side. Okay, sure, that makes enough sense, but did they really think it wouldn’t be traced back to them? My venom - venoms - are a unique blend. Someone was going to get a toxicology report and figure it out eventually. Surprised it didn’t happen sooner.”

Lizzie paused, looking thoughtful.

“Actually…that’s a good point.”

“I make them sometimes.” He muttered.

The tealblood rolled her eyes. “What I mean is that you’re right, the timeframe is odd. As dumb as some clowns can be, they’re not all stupid, and this letter says the killings have been going on almost since you fought Goh Tat.”

She took the letter from him and read it again.

“Hmm. Most of them are from all different sects, too, no more than two or three from each one. I want more information on the victims before we go anywhere.”

“Well, we have a week, right?” He said, thinking of the summons date printed on the piece of paper in bold black ink. “That’s enough time to look into the hospital and these poor dead purplebloods. I can take a night or two off work to do some research.” 

He sighed, feeling like he’d aged fifty sweeps, the full magnitude of the situation hitting him.

It wasn’t that he was any great fan of clowns. He tended to avoid them when possible, though in Selatak, staying away from them entirely was like trying to dodge moonlight. 

But not all of them were horrible. They varied like anyone else, especially in a city with at least a dozen diverse sects like this one had. 

It was very likely they hadn’t deserved to die such awful deaths. His venom didn’t work like it did in the movies when someone got bitten by a snake, or stung by a scorpion. While it took effect more quickly than it should due to the combined potencies, it still usually didn’t kill a troll for some time, especially highbloods. Not that being in agonizing, paralyzing pain was any fun. 

Unless whoever was using it had somehow gotten their hands on a truly ridiculous amount of venom. But if that was the case, why hadn’t it been discovered sooner?

His head hurt trying to unravel the mystery.

Lizzie’s mild annoyance changed to sympathy as she looked up from the letter, teal gaze resting on her best friend’s clouded expression.

“It’ll be okay, Hazard.” She assured him softly. “You’re innocent and we’re going to prove it.”

He smiled at her weakly.

—

ONE WEEK LATER

“Oh, you are totally fucked.” Said the leader of the Dreamweavers conversationally as they leaned against the wall in the court waiting room. They were a few inches taller than Hazard, muscular and long-haired with intricate makeup on their face.

“They’ve all got a bug up their arses and they want someone to blame. Me? Don’t care. This is a waste of my fucking time. So I lost two trolls! Let me phone the news rags, that’s so totally unheard of.” They said in a singsong, derisive voice.

Hazard looked at Lizzie, seeing his baffled expression reflected on her own face at this clown’s behavior.

But then, Plaske Wilhem was an oddity among the church leaders of Selatak; for one thing, they weren’t from the area, their voice’s accent very clearly Western Alternian, though he couldn’t quite place the region.

For another thing, uncovered gills were set along their neck.

“So you’re here only because you have to be.” Lizzie mused.

“Bingo! Got it in one, lawyer girlie.” They said with a yawn, stretching their arms. “The two I lost were just a pair of sideshow rousties anyway.” They said with a dismissive wave of a manicured hand. 

“Some of the things in their cages had more brains than them. But you know, rest in pieces and bless their souls to the messiahs.” They said in an extremely bored tone, accompanying religious hand gesture minimally enthusiastic at best.

“Don’t you mean rest in peace?” Hazard asked, puzzled.

“I said what I said.” Drawled the cuspblood.

“Hazard Ailaht.” Came a deep, rasping voice from inside the courtroom, one that stood the blueblood’s hairs on end, and he knew exactly what creature it came from.

Plaske’s eyes glittered. “Go on in, Ailaht, I’ll be right behind you.”

Hazard gulped and walked into the room.

Oh gods there were so many clowns oh gods they were all staring at him oh gods oh gods -

Lizzie laid a hand on his shoulder.

He remembered how to breathe.

“So are you going to move, oooor…?” Came the bored, impatient voice of the Dreamweavers’ leader behind him. He could hear their foot tapping on the floor.

Rude as Plaske was, Hazard couldn’t help but be grateful that they’d shocked him out of his panic moment enough to take unsteady steps forward to where he and Lizzie needed to sit down.

“Thaaaanks.” They said in a singsong voice and a flicked wrist. ��You remembered how to walk after all. You can do that and talk at the same time! Still a step above my charming contemporaries.”

Irritated muttering and insults came from the assembled trolls, largely remarks about the cusp’s less than formal outfit (he was pretty sure it was fancy dancing silks) and their gills.

They didn’t seem to care at all, slowly turning to meet the gazes of the other clowns looking down on them with a wide, lazy smile that oozed disrespect and flippancy before they stretched luxuriously and finally went to take their place among the rows.

“Now that mix Wilhem has entered and the defendants have assembled, we can begin.” Came the voice of His Honorable Tyranny.

Then he looked directly at Hazard and Lizzie, and Hazard’s throat went dry. 

“We are gathered here tonight to discuss the accusation of multiple murders of members of various Mirthful sects by their leaders toward Hazard Ailaht. While there is no genetic or witness evidence, the cause of death in each case was ruled after psychic and physical investigation to the unique blend of venoms possessed only by this individual.”

The great black creature’s gaze was steady.

“Hazard Ailaht. Lizzie Eizzil. What do you have to say in regards to this accusation?”

“Plenty, your honor, all based on my submitted evidence.” Lizzie said calmly, opening her briefcase to take out her notes. “Footage of the accused being otherwise engaged when several of the murders happened. Scientifically verified information about his venom production rate, the amount needed to kill purplebloods of the victims’ sizes, and the inconsistency of the wounds when matched against his fangs and claws. 

And, naturally, testimonials from other trolls in the footage to verify that it has not been doctored and illusionary psiionics or anything similar are not being used to simulate his presence.”

Lizzie. What would be do without her? 

Hazard smiled weakly at how even she was, how ready to defend him.

The clowns didn’t look convinced, however, though he saw that some appeared skeptical as they scrutinized him.

For once, the librarian was glad that he was hard to miss for anyone with remotely functional eyes, and that he wilted in front of crowds. Maybe those facts would help convince these indigos he was innocent. 

“Very well.” Said His Honorable Tyranny, then turned his massive, multi-horned head to look at the circus leaders, accompanied by their assistants and guards.

“Ringmasters of Selatak and its surrounding regions. What evidence do you have to bring against Hazard Ailaht?”

“He is a mutant.” Growled one troll with gold-capped tusks and jagged face paint. “No troll should have venom as animals do. It is unnatural.”

“Easy, Honsui.” Came a deep voice Hazard had heard before at festivals, for this clown was known to frequent even those of his faith did not normally celebrate, its owner dressed in a neat suit with his hands folded politely in his lap. “There is no law decrying venom as a blasphemy against the messiahs.”

Chiloa Teroct, second in command of the Moons’ Eyes, the largest messianic sect in the city.

“Is there a law decrying stupidity?” Came Plaske’s drawling voice. Hazard looked up to see them now stretched across three seats with their feet in the air, entirely indifferent to the expected formality of the court. 

“Look at him. If you’re implying absolutely none of our guards, lusii, or voodoos caught this man, I think we should all just give the fuck up right now and call ourselves failures.”

The cerulean winced, but he’d heard far worse, and the cusp’s words were technically in his favor.

Unsurprisingly, though, there was more angry muttering and cursing from the other clowns; Plaske might have a point, but they were sufficiently unpopular that it might not matter.

Teroct raised his eyebrows.

“Don’t be so quick to judge by appearances.” The man chided. “Though, I must beg to differ with Ringmaster Honsui; venom does not a mutant make, and not all mutants are stains to be cleansed.”

Then he looked at Hazard directly, and the blueblood paled even though the higher blood’s face was calm.

“Ailaht. If you did not kill our kin, then who did? Can you illuminate us in any way as to who might have committed these foul deeds with your venom?”

Hazard thought.

He racked his brains as he had multiple times over the past week, trying to think of who aside from Goh Tat would frame him - Lizzie had investigated his ancestor, and found enough evidence that he hadn’t done it either.

That day, that hot and horrible day when he’d barely made it to fight his ancestor in time…

His eyes widened as he remembered something.

Could it be?

“I don’t know for sure.” He said, managing to keep his voice steady. “But I have a theory. On the day I fought my ancestor - the same day I was forced to stop keeping my venom a secret and had to go to the hospital after he stabbed me - someone else was there at the beginning. He turned up out of nowhere to give me a motorcycle ride.”

He paused, steadying himself, knowing the reaction this name would have on a room of clowns.

“Panzen Roscur.”

There was an immediate uproar of chatter that his Honorable Tyranny had to quiet.

Chiloa was one of the few trolls who remained calm. Both he and Plaske had, though the cusp’s expression was more amused than anything. 

His, meanwhile, was thoughtful.

“The mutant criminal.” Chiloa mused. “That would be a possibility.” 

Honsui hissed in disdain. “That filth would! It is an insult to our city’s sanctity that we have not culled him already.”

Then Chiloa looked more calculating.

“He’d also be an easy person to blame to throw suspicion off yourself.” He said gently. “And we have only your word he witnessed your fight with your ancestor, unless you have testimony for that too?”

Hazard had gone from hopeful to deflated in seconds. He could only shake his head wretchedly, slumped in his chair.

Plaske rolled their eyes.

“Even if he didn’t do it himself, I think you’re all missing an angle here, so wake up and smell the faygo! Maybe Roscur didn’t do the murders himself, but he sure could’ve reproduced and sold the venom. Do none of you numbskulls know what his power is?”

The only troll in the city who had the ability, rare as it was. Hard to forget once you knew, once you’d seen and felt it in action like Hazard had.

“Chromomancy.” Hazard whispered and Chiloa said out loud.

Then Chiloa frowned.

“Roscur has been seen to only be able to sustain solid constructs as long as his psi actively sustains them.”

Plaske smiled derisively.

“Oh, Chi, you ignorant fucking worm.” They said, almost fond. “You’d be right if you weren’t so dull. Mind honey, dummkopf. We know the Day Howlers trade in it. Even you can add two and two.”

The other clown didn’t seem fazed by his fellow’s insults, instead nodding thoughtfully.

“This might be true.” He acknowledged. “But it might also be pure supposition.”

“Who cares?” Snarled Honsui, and a few other trolls called out encouragement of him. “Roscur, Ailaht - each is mutant filth. I say we cull them both and do the world a favor! Even if Ailaht is not guilty, or was not working with Roscur himself, he is a risk to let live!”

Hazard’s heart sank to his shoes as he saw more trolls nodding along with the hateful ringmaster. Plaske was too unpopular and Chiloa was too even; sheer emotional scaremongering was so much more effective on trolls whose friends and quadrants had been killed.

They wanted revenge.

He couldn’t even really blame them.

His Honorable Tyranny interjected again.

“Order.” Came the hard, curt tone. “The case will proceed as attorney Eizzil makes her case for Hazard Ailaht.”

But as Lizzie opened her mouth to speak, as the clowns in the rows of seats glared the librarian down, a massive hyena wearing - armor? - bounded into the courtroom, coming right at him. 

At first Hazard thought he must’ve cracked and begun hallucinating from stress. 

Then the clowns began shouting, His Honorable Tyranny started calling for order again, and that unmistakable animal scent hit his nostrils.

The hyena somehow yanked him up with its mouth, tossed him in the air, caught him on its back as he clung for dear life and it bounded out of the courtroom into the warm moonlit streets of Selatak.

[cloudbattrolls]

Mutant and werehyena: mouth off at each other.

[cloudbattrolls]

SELATAK TROLLS:

Plaske Wilhem#

Chiloa Teroct

Hazard Ailaht

The Dicemaker

Kharak Atwoos*

Riatic Helmon*

Panzen Roscur*

Siroco Tamahu#

SELATAK NPCS:

Selbau Transp

The Obligate

Lizzie Eizzil

Haliim Allond

Hansai Raajah

Hakket Ixodes

Rattus Faberr

*Character is based there, but leaves semi-frequently for work or another reason.

#Character is a native or passes by at times, but spends the majority of their time elsewhere