Let Bayous Be Bayous - A Fantroll Adventure

"No, it's-" You can't stop looking up at it, trying to make sense of bits, but it's mostly just noise to your eyes. Very colorful noise. But that, in itself, tells a story. "It's beautiful."

You honestly can't imagine having been in one place that long.

You're pretty sure you look around, just soaking things in, long enough that it's awkward. Shit. You. Um. You absently kick one of your feet against the flooring. "Can I. Um." You hear your Mom hopping around on the roof, and that snaps you back to something solid enough that words kick in again. "Is my mom going to do okay nesting out there? She makes her own shelters and everything - even if you do bring her inside - but I don't know what kinds of day predators would or wouldn't bother a boat around here."

 

"Ah, yeah, good point motherfucker." you ain't thought about it, since your lusus is big enough to mostly look after herself and there's a secret hatch below the waterline she can let herself in via if needed. You turn back up the stairs and crack the door so the little chirpbeast can come inside. "I ain't sure of her safety out there, to be real honest - all the carni-beasts what would look on a tiny chirpbeast as a crunchy snack are mostly too small to tangle with a gnawbeast of unusual size like my mom, you know?"

"There's a cozy spot up there atop the thermal hull," you add, and dig around until you find a torn bit of snuggleplane. "She can nest up with this if she's an inclination."

 

You whistle inside at your mom and she flutters through, moving straight to investigating everything within reach. You show her the bit of snuggleplane, and she declares it Exceptionally Luxurious, so you put it on top of the thermal hull along with some reeds you'd collected earlier, and soon she is as happy as she ever gets with Nest Building, chirping industriously to herself as she arranges and rearranges bits to her liking.

Okay. That's settled. You take a seat carefully on a part of the bench - your ankle is starting to ache again, and you want to take it easy. You'll need to be doing a lot of walking on that...

...at some point.

Shit.

You really need to figure out what you're doing here, because while the large part of your pan is freewheeling with the idea of beckoning Vastar close and initiating Snuggles Round Two: Now With Pillows, the other part is still quietly pointing out your travel timeline. And yeah, you can adjust that, although if you get too far behind you'll need to update everyone back at the hive so they don't worry too much, and yeah by the way what are you doing when you need to leave?

Okay, no, you know what? Fuck it. Snuggles it is. You deserve time to at least enjoy this before panicking to death. Making a hopeful face at Vastar, you pat the bench next to you.

 

You grin at the little lusus's obvious delight at the offering of blanket, and close the door, ambling back down the steps towards the preparation block. Appie making barkbeast eyes at you gives you pause, all the same, and you figure dinner can wait for a little while. You flop down next to her, all limbs and big paws, and wrap your arm around her shoulder, cuddling close before you can really help yourself.

There's that hazy rush of endorphins again as you breath in her scent. She still smells injured, but unwary and more calm than tharn. You curl over so you can bonk your head gently against her temple, knowing your horns are the wrong shape to do any kind of damage that way. You are surrounded by olive green, and feel very at peace.

You stir a little after a moment, though. "Talk to me, motherfucker. Talk to me, Appie. I'd fain adore to have the knowing what's all up in your headspace right now."

Another pause. "You don't gotta, though. No pressure."

 

You let out an involuntary, happy chirp at suddenly being engulfed in long-limbed cuddles, and wiggle yourself around to tuck your legs over her lap and your head (very carefully, angling your horns safely out of the way) to her shoulder. Everything is still and peaceful for a long moment, the nervous static that builds up in you just... sort of fading away somewhere. You don't understand it, but you can certainly be in awe of it.

When Vastar speaks, you think about your answer for a long moment, but eventually just say honestly, "I want to stop worrying about everything."

 

"Way I up and think it, worryin's a sign you're well motherfucking caring, you know?" you nudge your nose against her scalp leaving smears of white paint that you can't quite bring yourself to give three shits about right now. You've never let anyone smear your paint, never never never, and yet here you are with a girl you didn't even know was a thing yesternight, snuggling close and leaving pale ghost greasemarks in her hair.

"You wanna give me the low down on your worries, or is that up and moving lightspeed compared to what we're ready for?" You bonk her again gently with your weird tangled horns. You feel kinda like one of them baby hornbeasts on CruelTube - you heard they bonked heads to all up and be playful with each other, but you never understood the inclination til now. "'sides the obvious, I mean. I ain't never left this swamp and I halfway dunno how."

 

You bite your lip, and nuzzle back against her adorable headbutts. "Maybe? I-" You catch one of her hands, and twine your fingers with hers, staring at them while you try to process words. She's never left the swamp, and... maybe doesn't want to? Or know how? It's only when she says that that you realize you were trying to figure out a way to get her to come with you, and if you're thinking that, there's other people you have got to consult.

You take a deep breath. "Not everything I want to say is... is my secret to tell, entirely?" You brush your thumb over her fingers. "What do you mean, you aren't sure how to leave the swamp?"

 

"Guess that's okay, if it ain't all yours to tell." you understand that kind of thing well enough - you kept enough quiet secrets of your own bloodpusher and watched enough movies to know how that goes. It concerns you that it might be up and something huge, like anti-Empire huge, seeing as no adults are supposed to stay on Alternia and yet here you are cuddling with one. The other worry's a bit easier to address, however.

"I can swim damn near as good as a proper fishtroll what has working gills and all," you explain, glancing down at your joined hands. Her skin is so much darker it gives you a little shiver still, even knowing that you're still and safe and sound with her. "And I can navigate a boat through alleys smaller than the space between a hogbeast's toes. But I ain't never walked more than a couple hours in my whole life, and I'm....I'm meaning..."

You think about the throat-closed cosmic fear you experience out of the fens, on the dry plains where the sky is so full with no filter and you could just motherfucking fall, fall forever, there's no fucking bottom and you don't up and know why you don't and it's fucking terrifying. You swallow, drily. "I... ain't good with open space, sister. Ain't good at all."

 

You shiver at the brush of that fear, and cling tighter around her, part reflex and part protectiveness, making a small safe space. "Open spaces..." You swallow. "They can be scary. There's nowhere to hide. But." You manage a little bit of a smile. "I know how to build nests, and make camouflage. So."

Also, caves sure are small and enclosed.

...yep, nope, you have thought that thought pretty irretrievably, so it's time you message Mintuu and actually start sorting this out.

You kiss Vastar's cheek, and when you pull back your eyes are bright with plans. "I have an idea, but I need to message someone first. Can I have a moment?"

 

You were pretty sure your blush was finally fading a little when she fucking up and outright kissed you. Abruptly, you're pretty sure that if she had told you at that moment to go outside and slit your wrists for the drinkerworms to come leech you dry as hay until there was naught at all left but a revenant you'd have done it and laughed the whole time. You're kind of glad she just wants a moment's space. "Y-yeah, you up and take all the time you motherfucking need, palesis."

You're a little shocked by your own daring calling her that, so you go out the front door to the stern of your hive and dunk your head into the water to cool off a little. Then you remember that you've still got a scalebeast to dismember, and your mama didn't raise no food-waster, so you hop up on the top deck and decaptchalogue the corpse once more.

It still doesn't even smell quite dead yet, and the process of gutting and taking out the heart, lungs, liver and kidneys then butchering the rest into steaks and chops enough for a few days between two of you - and ain't that some kinda miracle, you ain't alone no more and there's a traitor-small voice that says maybe you don't need to be not ever again - takes up enough of your concentration that some time passes in almost mediative silence. Then you gather up the meat in a wide basket, take a dip in the water so you're not covered in blood coming back indoors and bark a warning to your lusus to tell her there's gonna be meat bits in the water.

You wait until she's aboard before hosing down the deck and tipping the bits you don't eat into the water for the fishes. You come back inside and find room for all the meat in your thermal hull, then grab a big pot and start chopping the offal into it.

If it's stew your new moirail likes, then by all that's motherfucking mirthful and starshine then she'll get it.

 

Vastar heads out, looking a little dazed, and you watch her go, before shaking your head to clear it and pulling out your palmhusk, flipping over to your secured chathandle to contact your matesprit.

-- thunderousStaccato [TS] began trolling meticulousIntricacy [MI] --
​

TS: ^hey <3
TS: ^i've got a pretty important travel update, if you've got a minute.

 

You are humming to yourself while you help Aztala bundle the newly-grown batch of cables from the homebrew deskhusk/transmitter Thing that she insists is going to get her better signal range, quality and security all at motherfuckin once, bluesis, ain't it motherfuckin miraculous?

You'll give her credit for this much: the level of tangling you are sorting is possibly a miracle. Or a sign of favor from a fan of her station more eldritch in origin than her usual demographic, but you are fairly certain her transmission range isn't that good, new tweaks or no. Then your palmhusk chimes in the pattern you have set for messages from Apkuri, and you are more than grateful to set your cord-wrangling aside for the moment.

MI: I Always have a minute or two for you, my wandering lovely. <3 What seems to be happening? ~;@

 

TS: ^well, first off - i should know better by now than to take shortcuts
TS: ^but i took a shortcut
TS: ^despite minor setbacks and temporary peril, it's gone pretty well
TS: ^but
TS: ^i'm not at all sure it's going to cut my trip short
TS: ^there were
TS: ^um
TS: ^complications?

 

MI: ~sigh~ You should. You really should. And yet... ~;@
MI: I am glad that things are going 'pretty well', but my blood pressure would appreciate it if you would explain those 'complications' in a bit greater detail. Are you safe? Do I need to arrange an extraction? ~;@

 

TS: ^i'm safe
TS: ^very safe
TS: ^minorly injured, but good medical care
TS: ^(ankle got a bit chewed on, but cleaned immediately - should be back to 100% in a few nights)
TS: ^and i don't need an extraction
TS: ^i
TS: ^um
TS: ^found a nice person

 

MI: Oh, your poor ankle. :( I'm glad that you got help with it. I take it this nice person is your surprise mediculler? ~;@

You have a suspicion that the "nice person" in question is the crux of the matter, and just to be on the safe side, you work in one of the pre-agreed "Are you actually not okay, but being watched so you can't say so?" queries into your next reply.

MI: I've been told the weather in your area can change pretty quickly. Do you still have clear skies over there? If not, please don't push yourself too hard with that injury. ~;@

 

TS: ^no, no, the weather's been fine
TS: ^the weather has been excellent
TS: ^the weather has been, um, rather...
TS: ^...pale?

You are not entirely sure why you are so incredibly skittish about bringing this up to Mintuu, but you are.

 

Oh.

...OH.

MI: You don't say. How uncanny. ~;@

You should say something more than that. What do you say?

MI: Would you be texting me in the midst of cuddles, then, or do you have a moment to yourself? ~;@

 

TS: ^i'm by myself
TS: ^she's making dinner out of one of the scalebeasts that tried to eat me
TS: ^and oh my sacred words she is such an adorable disaster zone
TS: ^and when i tried to thank her, at first, for patching me up, she said
TS: ^she said something about how we're all hatched equal anyway
TS: ^except she CAN'T be one of us, she was startled by me being adult
TS: ^but she just
TS: ^aaaaaaaaaa

 

Now that is startling. Egalitarian sentiments surviving long enough in a troll to make them of an age that Apkuri was likely to see them as a possible quadrant prospect- because you just don't see her falling pale for a pupa- in your experience, require a certain amount of isolation at least, and probably a fairly highblooded troll. You've seen some of the schoolfeeds they require of the warmer castes; the Empire is understandably much more concerned about pounding belief in the hemospectrum into the wigglers on the losing end of the equation than into those of you who could be reasonably expected to be happy that it wasn't you and kill each other over the juicier pickings the Condesce saw fit to bait her nobles with.

So your matesprit is being pale courted by a swamp-dwelling highblood that cooks scalebeasts for dinner, and you are too far away to have a poisoned dart lined up for the back of the mystery troll's thinkpan in case she is just toying with Apkuri. This is not sitting well with you.

MI: That is certainly not something I'd expect your average troll to say. It sounds a bit like Mahree, when he was a wiggler. I do want to remind you that he said things like that for sweeps before I managed to convince him that the Empire didn't want a goodhearted reformer, and that his loyalty was wasted on it. ~;@
MI: She can still be dangerous to you, and to us, even if she isn't a raving spectrist bigot, so please be careful. ~;@