twilightstarchaser

[raitrolling]

but does he have wisdom about why jon arbuckle has a dumpy in the garfield meme version, is the real question

[cloudbattrolls]

CRISTA: get some assistance.

You didn’t want to do this, but beggars absolutely can’t be choosers, and if you had a choice you wouldn’t have an irate fae snapping at your heels to begin with.

Her jaws miss by inches as you make a noise that is definitely not a yelp, and manage to get off one more short-range teleportation spell to get you just close enough to your dumb, unlucky friend’s collaborator’s hive to limp toward it, out of breath, and knock on his door.

“Kormut!” You pant, wiping sweat off your face (ugh, your hair is ruined).

“Kormut, I really, really need you to let me in right now, starshine, because I am in a heap of trouble and I need your help. Yes - I need your help, you can laugh later, just open the door before I expire in the mouth of a - never mind, with you here if I speak that it might happen.”

You take in more deep breaths to your poor, tired lungs and try to regain some composure. If a great sodding plague beast is going to eat you, you might as well face it with some class.

[nihils-trolls]

@condescensionsation

Jokes on you, she's doing the best she has in literal sweeps. Part of her 'laid back' personality was mostly due to her being constantly exhausted and fatigued all of the time. Could not be brought to care about much. Villoh just did a great job of hiding it for a long time.

But now, she's moved on to other work (no longer a courier) and has been addressing the reason she's so low energy. It's like the girl has actual opinions and emotions on things now. During the sweep, she intends to set aside more opportunities to visit/spend time with her quads, reconnect with some old friends and maybe even make a couple new ones.

[camiefromstatefarm]

Rick Riordan

JK Rowling (pronounced like 'rolling')

Rick Rowling

Rickrolling???

Oh my gosh-

[goddesstrolls]

Unnecessary Measures

Cipher drummed their fingers on the counter in their lab.

Thrixe had been gone for a good while, and no one had descended upon them with any desire to dissect. But, no one except Cheran knew what they were. As far as they knew, of course. There was Ullane’s psionics, and Xrumon’s sensors...

It was a ticking time bomb, and they had no protection now. Not with Thrixe gone. They’d trusted him to maybe, just maybe, protect a fellow freak of nature, if it came to that.

Damn him for leaving. Cipher liked it here. They liked Friday quite a lot. Not that they’d ever really admit it.

Cipher puffed up their cheek and went to the filing cabinet, unlocking it and pulling out all the paper files. They sorted through it, carefully removing any hints of their personal work, not that they did much of that at the Clinic. They tidied the pile, organized it neatly, packed it up into a perfect stack, and left it on the counter.

Then they checked the digital copies, though they were extra-careful about those as a matter of course. There was nothing to remove, nothing they felt unsafe with leaving.

They’d already cleaned their lab for the day, but they did another purging just in case. Removing a few of their pet projects that had no use to the Clinic and would just be extra cleaning.

They reset the door’s security to the factory standard, and wrote the code (Which was just a string of 1′s) on a note, plopping it on top of the files before assuring the door was left unlocked, and stepping out of their lab.

It was late. No one was in, or if they were, they were all sequestered away in their own hiding spots and wouldn’t come across them on their way out.

They left the Clinic quietly, hoping this would be the last time they saw the place. They didn’t want to leave any reason Ullane or one of them would have them dragged back, any debt or stolen equipment or research. Worst thing they were doing was not giving any sort of notice for quitting.

Oh, and the fact that the address they’d given wasn’t somewhere they could actually be found. Just a small empty apartment in the city. Even Rotavh wouldn’t have any real means of contacting them, just trails leading to dead ends.

As a final measure, they stopped at a creek near the Clinic. They manually deleted any remotely personal information, reset it to factory settings, dissected the thing, broke all the little chips, and scattered the pieces in the creek.

These were things they did as a matter of course, when working in these sort of places. With these sorts of people, who weren’t quite right in the head. Who might hunt them just to sate their curiosity. Who’d wonder what they had to hide. It wasn’t much, really.

Cipher was just a very, very private person.

[ase-trollplays]

Playing With Fire

It took a lot of doing, but after two weeks of investigating, Amprus found the troll responsible for Leriot's murder. The mob barely covered their tracks -- It's not like legislacerators were bring their A-game to investigate a lowblood's murder -- but they covered enough that it took longer than Amprus would have liked.

Now the mob was going to pay for it in blood.

They didn't bother remembering any of their victims' names. Why commit it to memory when they're about to be dead? Leriot and everyone who was killed in the gang attacks the Grey Mob set up would be avenged one way or another. This was personal.

The first troll they killed was laughably simple. They could possess a person for up to three minutes now with all the practice they'd been doing over the last sweep, which was two minutes more than they needed for him. Even one minute was more than necessary. They waited until he was at his hive to possess him and equip his strife weapon, a pistol. His murder was easy: Put the barrel to his temple and pull the trigger. Done and done.

A week later, they killed another mobster. This one's strife weapon was a dagger, so they forced him to cut the entire length of his stomach open, then slit his own throat. They felt every ounce of his pain and very nearly stopped halfway through, but their anger steeled their resolve and allowed them to finish the job.

Two weeks after that, they possessed another one, this time in the middle of the day when undead were meandering through the streets, and made her run outside and hug one. The reaction from the undead horde was swift. The blistering heat from the sun likely would have been enough to kill her by itself, but the ensuing carnage as she was mobbed and torn apart by the zombies was far more satisfying.

After the fourth murder at their hands a week later -- Making the troll hang themselves -- the rest of the mob caught on that the deaths were linked and something sinister was happening. The mob starting having their members pair up. Reports of a serial killer were printed in the paper. Several former Marked were brought in for questioning about the murders.

Of course, not a single one knew anything useful, and they certainly didn't implicate Amprus. Why would they? They died nearly three sweeps ago, long before the mob set their sights on the neighborhood. Not even Vallen "Madlib" Shonee, the troll they last spoke to, considered the murders were their doing. He'd probably think of it later in hindsight, but by then the questioning would be long over.

The pairs were more of a nuisance than an issue, but killing them was as simply as waiting for them to separate, usually when one of them had to use the bathroom. They forced the occupied troll to slam their head against a wall repeatedly with all their strength. Naturally, their partner interrupted when they heard the commotion, but the damage was already done. The troll didn't die right then, but the medicullers at the hospital weren't able to save them from the broken skull and brain swelling Amprus caused.

Later that evening, the other troll leaped to their death from the top of a building and died on impact. Amprus was especially proud of themselves for that one, as it pushed their time limit to its extreme to accomplish.

At this point, the Grey Mob started pairing their agents in groups of three or four with one psychically sensitive troll in each group. They were scared; at least, that's what Amprus told themselves. However, this proved to be a much bigger obstacle than simply being in pairs. A psychic troll would immediately detect the possession of themselves or one of their partners, which put Amprus at risk of being exorcised and destroyed.

In addition, random citizens of the city both former Marked and not were placed on "investigative hive arrest." Should anymore Grey Mob members turn up dead, they would pay the price. Amprus cursed their bad luck and, not wanting anyone innocent to be killed because of them, chose to leave the city for the time being. Once things cooled down, they would start again.

And this time, they wouldn't wait between murders.

[armed-flight]

name randomizer gave me trollol and killer?? is killer even allowed. who is naming their dragons killer

[shoutydwarf]

people don’t call inquisition/da:d “elf simulator”/”elf age” because they hate elves and elvhen lore. Let Me Be Clear: 

- elves have the most special dialogue options. even more if you’re a f!mage. bioware accidentally forgot dalish elves know who mythal is for ONE dialogue wheel and people really used it to run with the idea that elves were somehow narratively shafted during inquisition; meanwhile dwarves in the descent dlc, you know, THE DWARF DLC where you get your Crumb Of Dwarf, you get next to no special dialogue options besides being told by valta that you’re not a Real Dwarf and you don’t have stone sense (which isn’t even true. stone sense comes back to all dwarves if they’re underground long enough. this is more of bioware trying to prove all the disgusting corrupt systems in place are Acthually Correct Trollol.. that or they just forgot bc they dont care.) 

- eluvians, the fade, fen’harel, everything that comes out of solas’s mouth, a chunk of WEWH, inquisitor ameridan being a dalish elf, etc is not at all narratively relevant to anyone but an elf inquisitor. spin all the stories you want to make eluvians and elvhen gods important to your non-elf OCs but off what we get in the games alone, without doing an ungodly amount of work to make it fit, what BIOWARE has established, it means nothing. you can argue that all of this is important to the inquisitor on principal of them Being inquisitor but... be fucking serious

- elves seeing the crossroads differently than other races. just another special elfy thing

- every single religion is being geared up to link back to the elves. i think we can all agree by now that andraste is flemythal and the maker is mythal (whether u think the theory is good or not is neither here nor there, bioware is so predictable at this point). and thank god she freed the dwarves from the titans, amirite! it’d really suck if the dwarves had something exclusive! (bioware if you try to paint the titans as slavers and mythal as the Dwarven Savior........................)

- you can make an argument for any of the origins in da:o fitting “the best” as canon. the dalish elf is as ignorant to the world outside of the forest as the player is. cousland is your classic betrayed hero thrust into saving the world tale. dwarves are intrinsically tied to the darkspawn/wardens. the mages are freed birds but the world outside their cage is corrupted and torn asunder. tabris/brosca is your saving the world that never fought for them back tale. they all equally mean something in unique, valuable ways to the main story and it shows through ample unique dialogue options and main quest relevance. 

- can you REALLLLYYYYY say the same for all of the non-elf da:i origins? what do we got, a mercenary vashoth. a carta dwarf. a human noble or mage. all random NPCs fr. but the dalish elf who unlocks the power of an elvhen orb which leads to a slew of world-shattering reveals about the lore they grew up with and believed in? meanwhile ur dwarf/human/qunari inquisitor didn’t even know there WAS a plot twist. they didnt even know there was a plot

- all of this extra elf stuff would be perfectly fine. the countless elvhen ruins, lore reveals etc. if it was even REMOTELY evenly distributed across all the races. BUT IT’S NOT. 

- it would also be fine if inquisition was a one-off elf-focused game but they used the opportunity to take from every other races’ lore and make it about elves, so now A. there’s no going back, B. the 4th game’s title is literally dreadwolf wow i wonder who the story is going to be written for, C. if i ever have to hear with my own two ears “i’ve been through shit that would make the deep roads look like a cake walk!” followed by the dwarf at the receiving end of this Dying From Being Pwned, i’m going to get violent

- the point is that it’s bioware’s fault, not the elves. “elf simulator” is poking fun at biowares pandering to solavellan twitter, not at elf players lmao

[themisfitsedge]

Here is the entire batch of our Yule Ball commissions for 2022. We had a blast doing these and it really pushed our skills to the limit! We had so much fun doing this and we can’t wait to do this for years to come. I hope everyone had an amazing time at the ball and thank you to everyone who commissioned us this year!

@clown-fuckers-r-us @themisfitsedge @skegulium  @asks-n-trolls @trolloled @aberranteidolon @jazztrolls

[saltminerising]

THE RANDOMIZER NAMED MY FODDER "TROLLOL"

[raitrolling]

"Okay

the LLogic tracks

iLLLL LLet you have that one buddy

but damn maybe i shouLLd bake more often when ive got aLLLL this cake going to waste

fuLLfiLL the prophecy and whatnot"

[cloudbattrolls]

The Confession

Ullane, deep breathing, pushes the door open. Stops to admire his work.

“It looks good.” Determinedly calm but positive tone.

Xrumon, blandly looking up from trying to add maintenance ports to the arms.

“You came here to tell me that I'm not completely incompetent? I could have saved you the trip.”

Ullane laughs a little, slightly hysterically. “Clearly useless support is my profession.” Pinches the bridge of her nose. “You might want to sit down.”

“Properly. With nothing in your hands.”

"Oh, good. Love hearing that. Are you about to tell me my hive burnt to the fucking ground?" He sighs, rolling his eyes. He makes a show of putting his drawing pencil down and slightly adjusting his sitting position. "Okay. I'm sitting "properly," like I've been doing for nearly a sweep."

She laughs. “Only somewhat as devastating. Yes, yes.” Plucks at a strand of hair. Looks him in the eyes. “I’m flush for you.”

There's an entirely too pregnant pause. He blinks. It's almost possible to hear the sensors whirring in his eyes. "What?" he says, sounding entirely disbelieving. "Shitty joke. What are you actually here to tell me?"

She shakes her head, looking deathly serious. “I’m not joking.”

“I know - I know how this sounds.” She laughs again, a bit helplessly, her big ears pressed down from nerves. “I’m not…I understand. I just wanted to say it.”

He doesn't respond for a moment, then looks around the room with eyes squinted. "I don't get it. Where's the bit? Is that jackass on the cameras supposed to record my reaction?" he continues, voice sounding slightly strained now.

He looks back at Ullane, eyes sweeping over her. Another moment of silence passes. His eyes widen slightly. "Elevated heart rate, but your eyes are steady. Are you... serious?" Pause.

"Why?"

She laughs gently. “You tell me the truth. You’re smart, hardworking, reliable. Funny. Interesting. You challenge me, make me want to be better. You are…wonderful, yes, even with your flaws. Because of them, sometimes.”

She’s calmer now, still nervous but not as chokingly so. Merely peacefully awaiting rejection, but happy to tell Xrumon why she loves him.

Somewhat predictably, his hands curl themselves into fists, shaking slightly.  His eyes flicker between red and teal, apparently undecided on how to present themselves. "You- You- The one who put me in my chains, the Malpracticer who trapped me like this- You-" He choked suddenly, breathing more ragged.

"A doctor falling for the patient. What a fucking cliché.  Extremely unprofessional. Monumentally stupid." He shakes his head in dismay, but his tone never rises to the level of actual fury. His eyes settle at last on teal.

"Your taste is shit. I'm not- Nobody should feel that way about me. Especially not the one who could kill me." He looks down at his feet, expression inscrutable. "What am I supposed to do now?" he asks quietly, tone sounding mildly desperate, confused.

She smiles sadly as his eyes flash, but then chuckles. “It is stupid.” She agrees. “And wrong of me given what I’ve done, I know.” “Tried so hard not to…tried to take it from my own brain, so many times, but I couldn’t.” She shakes her head.

“Then I stopped. Because my friends asked. Because you asked. Irony.” Laughs more.

She looks serious again.

“My taste is fine. I know you don’t feel the same, of course not, wouldn’t make any sense.” She laughs. “But you deserve love. Always will.” Her voice, usually so even, is full of feeling as her eyes shine slightly red-pink from her psiionics, purely from high emotion.

“I only want to be friends.” She says simply. “All I deserve, all that can be. But you deserve to know you are worth loving.”

"I don't deserve anything," he replies flatly, tone hollow. He sighs heavily, eyes closing for a moment. "We are a severely fucked up pair of people. You, the doctor that wanted to steal my technology and work me as an indentured servant. Me? What isn't fucked up with me."

"Now I have to- I have to die, knowing somebody was stupid enough to think me worth anything. It was supposed to be easy, you dumb piece of shit," he complains, eyes still closed as he shakes his head again. "In flush with someone who calls you that. Christ. How could I ever be good enough to deserve this?"

She laughs a bit grimly. “I know. I know how absurd it is.” She grins. “That’s just how you talk. Wouldn’t be you if you didn’t. And ha! I’m the rotten one here.” She says with amusement. “I couldn’t be good enough for you, not if I spent the rest of my life making up! But what do I care? It should be done anyway.” Waves a hand dismissively.

"For me?" He snaps, eyes opening up again. "You're the doctor, you save lives! You went blitzkrieg on a fucking gang with- with- whatever the hell happened, just to cut their influence out! You make people better, all I do is remind them how fucked they are!" He laughs, bitterly and without humor.

"You've probably done fucked up things, knowing you. But at least you can make up for it. Look at me, I'm not even a walking corpse. No one sane would suggest I even take your crush half seriously - and they'd be right. You'll find someone better. Less messed up. Less ruined."

She smiles sadly. “Yes, but before that - before you - it wasn’t so good. I didn’t seek out doing terrible things…but I didn’t stop them. I’d accept an offer if I thought the good outweighed the price. I have done such things, like you said. Some I had to for survival, others I didn’t.” She shakes her head. “Perhaps I could. But I don’t want them. I want you. I know it can’t be, but I’ve only cared for one troll before as much as I care for you.”

She twists a strand of hair, smiling slightly. “Believe me. It took me by surprise. I tried denying it. But I couldn’t help it.”

He looks at her for several long moments again before finally responding: "You are a damned fool. Why do I always get stuck with fools? You realize I could break your neck with one twist of my wrist, right?" He points to his exoskeleton, eyes forming a scowl.

"I can't give anything but pain, this body was built for war. You're damn right it can't be, look at me! I- I'd need a head doctor, I can't treat you like-" He cuts himself off, falling silent. An impossible to see, internal war was being fought beneath his surface.

She nods. “I do.” She blinks, confused. “You give me much. You treat me as well as you can. Yes, you’ve hurt me - but I thought you might do so again when I said this, and you haven’t.” She smiles.

“You can change. Ha. If you live…I know you could heal, find quadrants. Possibly with help, like you say. Yes, I know this is very much when you could die.” She says quietly. “But I think it’s better than saying nothing.”

"Heal. Live. What a crock of shit," he complains, shaking his head. He sighs again, then looks her back in the eye at last. "I'm going to die. You know that's almost guaranteed, like you just said," he says with stoic calm, as if listing out the weather forecast.

"So... Come here." He raises a hand, beckoning her over to where he sits, tension coiling in him like a spring.

She grins at him. “Isn’t it just like me to inflict suffering like that on you?”

Confused but obedient, she comes over, slightly befuddled yet politely intrigued.

When she comes over, his raised arm comes up to land on her shoulder, feeling like a lead weight as it pushes her a bit further down. His other arm, once she's low enough, crosses behind her back as he leans forward, pulling her, very carefully, into a hug. It's not good. Terrible, even. He smells faintly of metallic lubricant, his arms are like iron bands, and rather than give and warmth, there's only solid, cold steel.

Ullane still blushes like an idiot and relaxes anyway because oh how she’s wanted this. She is really, really, really confused, but also very happy right now. Embarrassingly for her, her hidden tail around her waist wags a little before she stops it.

After a few moments, he lets go, gently pushing her away. At the very least he doesn't seem to notice her tail. "There. Now you won't have any fucking regrets or whatever when I'm gone," he says, somehow able to look her in the eye - most likely helped by the helmet concealing his face. "But if you tell a soul, or if the fucking security vid leaks, I'm going to tear this place a new fire exit."

Ullane snorts. “You think I want to deal with Friday and Yarrex making my life hell? Not that much of a masochist.”

“In my best interests too.”

"Yeah. That's part of why I even bothered," he replies, sounding faintly amused. "You're absolutely still insane, though."

“Takes one to know one.” She shoots back with a grin.

"I'm very clear on how fucked in the head I am. Always have been, " he retorts, rolling his eyes. "Now is there anything else you need to get off your chest? Any other things to curse me with?"

“Not right now.” She says with a hint of mischief. “Keep your eyes open.”

"Oh, wonderful. Another damocles knife over my head, just what I need," he groans, eyes cast up as if seeking patience from heaven. "Fine. Get out of here then, go do some actual work before someone walks in here."

Her grin only widens as she waves goodbye and leaves, with a little spring in her step.

[just-more-trolls]

Closed w/ @trolloled

> You sat in your car as Anaisa climbed out and slammed the door the moment your words left and died on your lips. You knew she wasn’t actually mad at you. It was the stress of it all. Still..it didn’t stop you from feeling hurt on top of the clear trauma you two went through to even get to Ankiro’s hive. You could kick yourself for choosing the south route.

> You stared down into your palmhusk. A message from Kanisa telling you to be safe and that she was with a new friend at his village but that she’d check on your hive and lusii if and when she’s in the area. It put your mind into some ease but the whole ordeal still kept it reeling.

> If what Anaisa said was true..was this the end-times? Did you cause it trying to fuck around with things you probably shouldn’t have? And what of your other friends? Are they safe?

> One troll suddenly came to mind and your face pales. He definitely would be dumb enough to try to fly headlong into that bullshit. Your fingers FLY across your phone’s screen in panicked tapping.

-- timidApothecary[TA] began trolling  aeronauticalMachismo[AM] --

TA: portec..?

TA: portec ple@se @nswer..

TA: @re you ok??

TA: where @re you right now???

[bastsoldtrollblog]

cracks myself up with the mental image of ro taking off his mask to spit water in the face of someone he doesnt like

[goddesstrolls-archive]

[ase-trollplays]

When Everything Is Gone

It felt strange being back in their old stomping grounds after half a sweep away. From the outside, things looked as good as they ever did, but Amprus knew these streets, these people, the atmosphere. They knew this place as though they lived their whole life there, so the change was felt in an instant.

Something was very, very wrong.

The first thing they noticed were the hemoanons in suits that walked the streets and ran the businesses. The second thing was the lack of Marked. Not a single troll could be found with a black band on their horns, a stark contrast to the city they remembered. There even seemed to be less people around now. Businesses they used to frequent were gone, and the number of hiveless trolls was concerning considering how rare a sight it used to be.

They spent the whole night investigating and taking notice of all the changes and problems they saw. Some things were an improvement such as the soup kitchen and the hiveless shelter, both of which were packed with desperate trolls. However, they couldn't abide the multitude of other issues. The entire city's vibes were off, and they needed answers. As soon as daylight broke, they made their way to a familiar apartment complex to talk with an old friend.

******************************************************

A young rustblood, one Vallen Shonee, sits in the living room of his apartment with his gecko-frog lusus sleeping in its enclosure. He's in the middle of taking apart the tv remote when you throw open the front door and stomp your way in. He jolts and drops the remote on the floor before giving you a glare.

"Knock knock! Who is it? It's me, Amprus! Oh cool, come right in," he deadpans and stands up from the couch. "Nice pajamas, by the way. You're a little early for the sleepover, though."

You march up to him and grab him by the collar so you can force him down to your eye level. He yelps and shoves you off of him. "Easy, killer! Since when can't you take a joke?"

"What the hell is going on around here!?" you demand as he smooths out his shirt.

"I was minding my business and you busted in and assaulted me!"

"Not that, you idiot! The city! Everything's wrong!"

"How do you not know? You practically live here. ... No, wait. You... You died sweeps ago. You're dead," Vallen said as he looked down at them. He placed a hand on his head as realization clicked in his mind. "You're dead, so... I--"

"You're dreaming. This is a dream. I'm really here, though. TLDR ghost powers," you tell him impatiently. He sits back down on the couch, gathers the remote pieces, and resumes dismantling it. He lets out a big, long sigh as he thinks about what to say next.

"The Grey Mob took over," he finally says after what feels like forever. Your eyes widen at that, and your confusion and shock is quickly converted to anger and disbelief. You slap the remote out of his hands and once again grab him by the collar. This time he doesn't fight you.

"What do you mean the Grey Mob took over!? Who let that happen?? Who's the idiot who let them in!!" you question as you give him a few hard shakes. He doesn't even look at you, which just pisses you off more. You shake him even harder to get some kind of reaction out of him. "Well!!?"

"We didn't have a choice," he weakly admits. "We were getting attacked on all sides by highblood gangs every week. People were scared, and we were struggling to keep up.

"The first time one of them showed up offering to help, we sent them packing. Told them we know how to take care of our own, and we don't need them. The next week, a gang of clowns came. We lost a lot of Marked and residents. They nearly demolished us.

"When the Grey Mob came back a second time, we were against the wall. We wouldn't survive another attack, and everyone was terrified. We were desperate, so we agreed to an alliance."

You slowly release him as you process everything, but your deep glare never falters. Something doesn't sound right. Highblood attacks were never that frequent, and the mob just happened to show up and offer to help? There's no such thing as a good mob. They wouldn't offer unless they were getting something out of it.

"... I bet those fuckers planned this. They sent all those highbloods here to--"

"Yeah, we know. It didn't take that long to figure out something was sus," Vallen interrupted. "We didn't realize it right away, but after those purples came and the mob sent someone again, we got the message."

"So you knew this was a setup, and you still let them in!? What's the matter with you!?" you shout in anger. Vallen finally breaks from his despondence and shoots up from the couch to push you hard enough that you stumble backwards onto your ass.

"What were we supposed to do, Amprus!? Let the city get taken over and destroyed!? Let everyone living here get killed?! It was death or compliance, so we chose what would keep us and everyone else alive!!" he roars at you. You hate that he's probably right, but you refuse to believe there wasn't some other third option. You sit on the floor stewing in your unbridled frustration stubbornly refusing to answer.

After several moments of uncomfortable silence, Vallen calms down enough to speak.

"It didn't start out this bad. They were actually pretty helpful. They set up a money lending place that helped people afford having their hives and businesses repaired and rebuilt, and the rates were good. They did community outreach like the soup kitchen and the hiveless shelter to help people get back on their feet. Even did renovation projects," he explains as he once again takes a seat on the couch, though he doesn't bother fussing with the remote anymore.

"Then they started pressuring the businesses to give them protection money. The places that refused got their reputations trashed and ended up going under. Then underground casinos started popping up, and the people who couldn't pay their debt were forced to work for them until it was resolved."

"What happened to the Marked? There's no one with a band on their horns anymore, at least not any I could find," you ask. You want to believe there's still some of them holed up somewhere, but the way Vallen sighs and holds his head in his hands says otherwise.

"The Marked are gone, Amprus. They starved us out. Anyone who supported us got hit with penalties, and their businesses wouldn't help us. Eventually we disbanded. Some of them left the city altogether," he explained sadly. The disappointment in his voice is so heavy and thick you swear you can feel it settle on your skin like a blanket. This can't be how it ends.

"... So that's it, then. We just lied down and let them take our city from us. Leriot would never settle for this shit," you curse and pick yourself up off the floor. Another sigh from Vallen as he looks back at you tells you you're not going to like what he says next.

"You're right. He didn't. That's why they got rid of him."

The words form a heavy boulder in the pit of your stomach, and all you can do is stare back at him searching for some kind of sign or tell in his expression to let you know that the worst didn't happen. You find nothing of the sort, and you start feeling anxiety creep in.

"What do you mean they got rid of him?" you ask almost pleadingly as your voice wavers. He looks at you incredulously.

"What do you think it means when the mob gets rid of someone?" he deadpans, and the pit in your stomach drops.

"When...?" You can feel the corners of your eyes start to sting and your jaw lock up, and he looks at you hesitantly as if not telling you would spare your feelings. Your eyes sting more as small tears start to form. Your patience is hair thin. "When did they kill him??"

"Six perigees ago. He was rallying the last Marked to run the mob out and take back the city. They found him frozen to death in an industrial freezer. The door was tampered with so it wouldn't open from the inside. Corpse cutter said he was in there at least two nights. Everyone that was backing him either abandoned the plan or had 'accidental' deaths of their own. ... I'm sorry, Amprus."

You're silent for a few moments. Then a few minutes. Leriot is dead. The Marked is gone. The city belongs to the Grey Mob. Everything's ruined. If you could die a second time, you probably would from heartbreak. Your second home is dead, and you couldn't even be here to fight for it.

You only snap out of it when you feel Vallen wrap his arms around you in a hug. Proud as ever, you refused to show vulnerability in front of him. With a hard shove, you break the hug.

"Where did you bury him?"