#oh look at that more hordi bait

[a-very-sparkly-nerd]

So I have not yet finished cycling through the stages of grief, but I HAVE accepted the fact that in Moonless Night, spoiler alert, something is almost definitely going to happen to Rayla.

So imma PLAN for it because ✨anxiety✨

When something happens to her, Callum needs to lose it. I'm talking going completely, utterly, BATCRAP. Off the rails, seeing nonstop red, RAMPAGING like there's no tomorrow. (And if he does Dark Magic, well, that's just a nice little cherry on top specially curated for moi)

[trixcuomo]

The Sig Nicious Affair

((Next on Desperate Alt's Lives... Rustic Night Elf Sharpen tries to fix Trixany. Ho boy.))

Trixany: I didn't mean for me losing my Kaja-Cola Girl status to come out this way. What am I gonna do now? I've just been... trying to stay calm and quiet, until the Daily Mail Org drops its final bomb on me by announcing everything to the whole of Azeroth, like one big, giant ker-splosion, my whole life up in flames. And trust me, I did not handle it well, back at HQ. There's bound to be footage. I'm sure my press-on nails are still in President Glim Poprock's grimy little green butt-cheek.

Sharpen: That sounds like a creative injury to get in a Goblin-style corporate office brawl.

Trixany: *smiles slightly* It was one of my better ones. Ugh, now I'm finally done. I don't know where to turn... Usually, I just grab another scandal to stuff the bad news down under something new. But a lot of people have quietly withdrawn their contracts, stopped associating with me. Sharpen... I think. I think I'm socially dead? I mean, it's not a real kind of dead. But. *winces, clutches the front of her shirt over her heart* It still hurts, kinda? *sobs, her little elf voice squeaking* Oh gods, my social life dying is giving me actual, physical pain. How pointless have I become??

Sharpen: *sadly sips his coffee while Trixany gives over to dramatic Blood Elf-style crying* Yeah... We need to get you re-connected.

Trixany: I know! Why don't you lend me one of your used BOY TOYS, Sharpen!

Sharpen: Not Haris Pilton right now. I'm really not.

Trixany: Sorry, when I'm in pain like this I just see her everywhere, in everyone. *spirals back into wild crying* Oh gods, I just insulted my poor, poor Sharpy. He's just a hopeless himbo, it's not his fault.

Sharpen: *sighs at her* Hold on. Hrm. Well, that's not too far off of an idea, you know. *he sits up* Why don't I come up with a way to get you involved with someone that'll knock your rivals' teeth out? Then, they'll have to re-connect with you. That's how it works, correct?

Trixany: You're practically a lumberjack, Sharpen. I don't want to date some she-bear you passed over the last time you visited the watering hole. Not even a cute he-bear. *tears up once more* And bears are so fuzzy and sweet with their big brown eyes. What is wrong with me? Why am I insulting bears now? Ugh...

Sharpen: Yeah, you're bitter. Give me a day or two, then we'll talk again. I'll figure a way to get you hooked up and clear out of your slump for sure. And then you can stop trash-talking everything that breathes.

Trixany: Oh, Sharpen. I don't know, maybe you shouldn't bother. Maybe... Maybe my friends, and Sunthraze of all people, and even Lady Liadrin are right. I admit that it's just possible this vapid lifestyle of mine has come for me in the end. Me chasing something that isn't even real--what is celebrity anyway? What existential pain am I trying to ameliorate by pursuing a fantasy life that could never, ever sate me, fill up my soul, precisely because it is so false? I am a Blood Knight. I serve the Light, an all-loving, humble, selfless power. But I have been so heartless, haven't I? I've only made myself into a walking contradiction at long last. *looks away, dramatic* Oh, don't cry for me! I will repent. I will go now to Light's Hope Chapel and finally make good. What a reckless ride it has been. What scars I've rightfully earned. Good bye, Trixany Cuomo. Me and my stage name had some great times together, but now I know the truth. I shall never again see thee--

Sharpen: Two words. Sig. Nicious.

Trixany: Shut-up.

Sharpen: But that's the good kind of 'shut up' right?

Trixany: I could never, ever date Sig. Not even get near him. You think I haven't low-key tried before? Nobody dates Sig. I mean, he's available, he does date people, but he's the ultimate mysterious band guitarist. Listen, not even Haris ever bagged him. He's far too careful about who he spends his time with. You're talking about catching a tiger in a soda bottle, socially. And, you're in the Alliance, how could you even manage it? Sharpen, you're crazy! Why don't you just let me go and be normal at long last? I'm sure there are lots of people out there who want that. They're unfollowing me right now. That's what social death is, Sharpen. I should go with it, being normal. Give in. *winces* It'll be fine. Tomorrow, I'll blog about how well I enjoy the cherry grog at the Tail and then complain about the price of spikes on the Orgrimmar auction house or something, like every loyal Hordie. Nice, predictable.

Sharpen: Excuse me, my lady. But did you forget that -you- are Trixany Cuomo, and I am an expert hunter? We just need to set Sig Nicious a good enough trap. Let's see...

Trixany: I can't believe some nature-loving Night Elf is about to give me socialite advice. Sharpen, let's quit while we're ahead. Or far, far behind. My whole career may as well be beneath Deepholm.

Sharpen: I know. *snaps fingers* Start a rumor that you're already dating Sig.

Trixany: And then I get sued.

Sharpen: No. Then you hold a press conference with the Org Daily Mail or something to allay the rumors. Throw water on the fire you started. Claim that you're flattered, but then graciously say you've 'honestly never even considered it before, though he does seem nice.'

Trixany: I don't understand. I'm... turning Sig Nicious down before I even meet him?

Sharpen: No, you're not following me. Trixany, he'll rise to the challenge. Come on, trust a man's perspective. A man who's an adventurer like me? Sig's bound to be a thrill-seeker, he's in a rock band. And if it works out, the two of you will be perfect--he performs, so do you. You both live in the spotlight. All the glamorous do's, the nice three-piece suits. We could match. And he has great hair. You know, the height difference isn't so bad either.

Trixany: What height difference, I mean it's not too drastic. We're both Blood Elves? Oh, I see. *eyes him* Look, you need an off-switch for your libido, Sharpen. It was fun when you and I first met, but now you're ruining it.

Sharpen: Right--heh, sorry.

Trixany: But what if he's already dating someone that the world doesn't know about? What if he's not interested?

Sharpen: Trixany. Don't tell me you'd want a guy who isn't interested in you. That's a moot point. But it -will- stick in his craw and if there's any chance you two are genuinely compatible, then it'll be in his nature too. Sig will go for the bait. And what guy wants to be called 'nice'?

Trixany: Well, some guys are just... you know, nice. *green eyes look up, thinking about this* Oh.

Sharpen: Like I said, he'll attempt to prove you wrong.

Trixany: *leans in* This is sinister. This isn't... something I'd expect someone in the Alliance to come up with.

Sharpen: *points, knowingly* And that's why you all lost the Southern Barrens.

Trixany: Damn. Touché.

((oooh this is getting crazy, I'm so excited! LOL))