Olympian Proportions

[cryptidWrangler]

I think I posted that last command while rather drunk myself!

>Go give that fine ass-lusus of yours a hug, bro.
>*fine-ass lusus

[Grug]

> Those goat intestines aren't going to play jump-rope with themselves. Come on, haven't you read the Oresteia?
> Party with some sweet Troll Maenads. Them bitches be crazy.

[Grug]

> Those goat intestines aren't going to play jump-rope with themselves. Come on, haven't you read the Oresteia?
> Party with some sweet Troll Maenads. Them bitches be crazy.

[NeoDarklight]

>Be the other other other other dude.

[Grand Mal]

> Those goat intestines aren't going to play jump-rope with themselves. Come on, haven't you read the Oresteia?
That mutilation was only your imagination. You wish you had a real goat. All of your sacrifice-beasts have been used up. Man, what did you do last day?

> Party with some sweet Troll Maenads. Them bitches be crazy.
Yeah, those grade-a crazy babes are your favorite chicks to frenzy-up with. You’re kind of hazy on the details, but you think you might be worshiped by a cult, or something? It happens.

Anyway, you exit the wine cellar, and go wherever the stairs take you. This grotto makes up most of your hive, and you’re pretty sure you were sober when it was designed. Despite that, it looks as if a sopor addict got his hands on the blueprint. You built the damn thing, and you can’t navigate it, especially when inebriated, which is 24/14. Twenty-four hours in an Alternian day, Fourteen days in a lunar Quadrisection. Or, as highbloods call it, Luquals. Or as, you will one day learn, humans call it, Troll Weeks. Which everyone will think sounds dumb.

>Go give that fine ass-lusus of yours a hug, bro.
>*fine-ass lusus



A fresh splattering of what is probably blue blood (but you’re too chill to rember where from) marks the pen of your lusus. Being a go-with-the flow wild troll, you decide to forget your current preoccupation and settle down with that fine, fiiiine cool cat, mr. Pawsome. You might have been able to come up with a better name, if you weren’t wasted as all fuck. Ah, well.

You stare off into the distance. Man, as Sileinus the Etiqueue says in his massive, hastily-scribbled guides to a proper gentletroll’s rowdy partying, “One must, like, toatally becme on with, liek, nature, and shit.”

Wise, wise parables, from a wise partygoer. Tradition is held in high regard in this household. You are his most adamant of followers, mostly because you are the only one who can read his sacred texts. Trolls come from far and wide to ask the proper methods of vomit sanitation, entrail arrangement, and playlist selection. You mostly just give them a grub of Troll Beethoven’s greatest hits from his thrash metal phase, and cryptically pat them on the shoulder. The music will put them on the right path. Always has, always will.

>Be the other other other other dude.
You cannot be the other other other other guy, because the other other guy is busy being the other other other other other guy. Settle for Lantis again, why don’t we?

What was it that you were doing?

[Grug]

> Lantis: Polish your gigantic fork.

[cryptidWrangler]

>I'm pretty shore you were brewing up a storm. Getting ready to wreck someones shit.

[Grand Mal]

>I'm pretty shore you were brewing up a storm. Getting ready to wreck someones shit.
> Lantis: Polish your gigantic fork.


If it's a storm of frustracean, then yes. This is the only thing that can calm you down. Haedon is still on your ass about being tempted by AC's offer. He can't really understand what it's like to loose someone- he can chat ghosts up any day of the Luqual. But AC told you that sgrub might be the only chance to reunite with your lusus, and to finally meet your ancestor in the flesh. You know that dirty mudblood- you mean bronzeblood. You know that bronzeblood backstabs like it's a fucking knife throwing contest, and you want to heed your moirail's advice, but to see your lusus one last time even for an instant...

Ah, and now the root of the problem is trolling you. Should you ignore it, for now, and apologize to Headon for storming off; or take what might be an urgent message, and put off the pale reconciliation for later?

[Grug]

> Take urgent message.

[Grand Mal]

> Take urgent message.


--- accentedCauduceus began trolling tridentCullings ---
AC: Well, you’ve certainly pa$$ed the te$t of loyalty.
AC: Congratulation$! A$ a reward, I grant you pa$$age into level two of our little game.
AC: That i$ to $ay, the game it$elf.
AC sent TC the file [sgrub.exe]
AC: Make $ure to wi$h Jupita a happy wriggling day from me when copying the file over into hi$ greedy maw.
AC: Al$o, it would be prudent not to go di$hing out thi$ $ucker to every warmblood you meet a$ $ome $ort of charity.
AC: Believe me, there will be complication$ if you do not comply with who I have $elected for play.
AC: And if you are a good $port, you reward will be a$cention to level three of loyaltytech.
AC: And then who know$ what wonder$ will follow!
TC: Y-ER RIDIN’ A THIN LIN-E H-ER-E, BUB.
TC: Noww I don’t take much stock in condescension, no matter wwhat end of the hemospectrum it’s coming from.
TC: There are better wwavves, is all I’m saying, to get people to do things.
AC: Mmm-hm.
AC: Go on.
TC: Well, I’ll tell ya wwhat else isn’t useful.
TC: There are… unique powwers, for one thing. Not sayin’ you folks are freaks, or anyfin, just that you are, really, really super unique, and that those powwers might not be the best “all the time” tools.
AC: Wow.
AC: You hone$tly think you can give me a lecture on conde$cen$ion.
AC: I am offended, of cour$e, but al$o terribly, terribly amu$ed. The only per$on that can’t let go of the raci$m you $o con$tantly decry i$ you.
TC: This convversation is ovver.
AC: Oh! But thi$ monologue has ju$t begun!
TC: Logios, don’t you dare-
AC: Right, here’$ a perk of thi$ level of loyalty.
AC: Logio$ i$n’t my real name, and I’m not a girl.
TC: I-
TC: Wwhat?
TC: You lied to me. You nevver lie! THAT’S WHAT YOU’R-E FLUK-EFLIPPIN’ FAMOUS F-ER.
AC: And then there’$ the juicy part- I didn’t lie.
AC: I’m famou$ for technical truth$, and you have witnessed thi$ in action.
AC: I have $tated toward$ a female feti$h, which a$ you know i$ common only among, well, female$.
AC: I have dropped feminine hint$ into my dialogue, $uch a$ threat$ to di$embowel you.
AC: I have $aid I am *called* Logio$, but never that it wa$ my given name.
AC: $o thourogh wa$ your punking, that I can watch a$ you $tare in di$belief, content and laughing.
AC: Al$o, did I mention thi$ application ha$ a veiwport? I invented it my$elf!
AC: And now the oration. I can $ee you are $peechless!
AC: Check it.
AC: “Abberent, tiny progeny
AC: Attain towards my hut for tea
AC: It gratifies my predolection
AC: For fools, and mental vivisection
tridentCullings has blocked accentedCauduceus

[Grug]

> Asclep Peeuus

[cryptidWrangler]

>TC: Murder something to let out your rage.

[Grand Mal]

>TC: Murder something to let out your rage.


NO. That’s not the kind of troll you are anymore.

And yet, although you’d like to pretend you’re content with simply screaming, it is simply prudent to find an outlet. And only one thing can help now.

Whaling.

There were times past when a troll couldn’t put a toe into these seas for fear of it being stripped off by a carnivorous aquamusclebeast. The 1X3dentkind specibus is a more challenging weapon than a harpoon, but you revel in the chase. Both look kind of pansy anyway in light of the kind of guns people lug about nowadays. However, staunch distrust of modern technology- well, doesn’t exactly pay off, but you find the old-fasioned stuff refreshing. The hunted certainly die a more painful death.

Channeling your rage into a your fist, you brandish the gold-guilded superbronze into the sky as you climb the roof of your mobile hive. The weather catches your interest- it matches your mood, certainly.

You’ve steered the hive into the bay of Tuila. This is the last remaining wild whale reserve on Alternia. No conservation laws protect it, because trolls don’t know what those are. Survival of the fittest is a fact of life.

Aaaand your PDA is beeping. Ah, him. Not the time. You leave a bro hanging, and toss the device down the stairs. GA never has anything to say as important as he wants you to believe.


glitteringAesthetic began trolling tridentCullings
GA: How goes it
GA: Come on lantis you cant hide forever
GA: Just as a thousand Lusus Naturae wont satisfy you since youve lost your precious one and only
GA: A thousand decoys wont deter me
GA: This is a favor-asking conversation
GA: The best variety of conversation
GA: I love worming what I want out of you like so many parasitical annelids
GA: Was that gross?
GA: Sorry im just excited
GA: I found Logios
GA: Im this close to finding out his or her real identity
GA: The fugitive is most elusive but i will soon wipe that smurk off his emotional conveyance organ
GA: Or ‘face’ as you would call it
GA: Come to think of it youd probably just call it an emotional conveyance organ in some misguided effort to convey tolerance with something other than your own emotional conveyance organ
GA: Logios would claim that trolltag betrays your true intentions of hate and evil
GA: Such a cynical rebel
GA: His/her capture will be sure to secure my favor with the higher ups
GA: Not that I dont already have such s bountiful and unique friendship with a certain seadweller that refuses adamantly to answer
GA: Helloooooooooooo
GA: Right that favor will have to wait
GA: Just dont play along with his little game its for the best
GA: Seriously things are going to not pan out towards any concievably happy conclusion if you accept
GA: Okaaaaaaaaaaaay im going in
glitteringAesthetic ceased trolling tridentCullings

[Grug]

Aphroe Daitee

[Grand Mal]

Hey guys (if there still are any followers). I revamped some old images, and am looking into getting this a mirror on MSPFA!

[Grand Mal]

Yeesh. Summer travel.

Aphroe Daitee

Close, but no cigar.

[Grug]

Perhaps a symbol would help?

[Grand Mal]

====>

We focus on a youth mysteriously resistant to the glaring sun. But this connection is tentative and wily, and so...


Our focus is snatched away, and put in the hands of this asshole.

You are now Jupita. You have cleaned off your computer and feel like dicking around a bit more on Trollian. The storm outside is coming down heavy. It jazzes one up.


Who will you troll?