A/N: Happy Asexual Awareness Week! (I'm a bit late to the party, I know.) I haven't updated anything since school started, and for that I apologize. I promise I'm still here, and still writing, I just find myself with a lot less time to write because of school. Again, my apologies. Here, in celebration of my wonderful sexual orientation (or lack thereof, who knows), have some headcanon ace trolls (and a human) kicking drone butt. (In this fic they are all about 9 sweeps, to avoid implications of underage doing of the do.)
4S3XU4L D3F3NS3 SQU4D VOLUM3 ON3: 1N WH1CH W3 K1CK DRON3 BUTT 4ND C4 COW3RS 1N TH3 CORN3R
You know, if you searched the whole universe frog or whatever it's called, it'd probably be hard to find a tougher place to grow up than Alternia. Alternian society is messed up in all sorts of ways. I can't even start on the ways Alternian society is messed up. It'd fill a whole computer database to list them. I don't have time for that.
Reproduction, though. The reproduction system we have is one of the most messed up things of our existence past 9 sweeps. My existence, it's no big deal for most other trolls, I guess. Condesce's fault, of course. Most things are.
Yeah, I don't really know why I'm going on about this. You live here, you're a troll, you already know how if you can't produce genetic material by your collection day the drones'll kill you. Unless you're one of those weird aliens like GT – he freaked so hard when we told him. It was funny. Jegus, I'm off topic! Moving on.
Most of the troll population doesn't have a problem with the drones. They can do their thing and produce their material and get on with their lives. But, actually, for like one in 100 trolls (and humans I guess, I asked GT and he said yeah), the thought of filling pails is just…no. Eugh. Nope. Even if you're of age, like us, it's still nothing you ever feel inclined to do.
And our mission is to make it so you don't have to.
You can call me gallowsCalibrator, because that's my chumhandle, and if you think I'm putting my real name on the internet for highblood security to see you've got sopor slime for brains. I'm second-in-command of the Alternian Asexual Defense Squad. grimAuxiliatrix's the leader, she's the reason it's not named something nearly as badass as it should be. But she's the one with a chainsaw, so I try not to make her mad. Usually. She gets so picky, sometimes I can't really help it, y'know? (Actually you don't. Forget I said anything.) She hasn't cut me in half yet.
The other two members of the squad are apocalypseArisen and golgothasTerror. AA's nice, I guess. We used to be closer. She's kind of quiet. Also has scary psychic powers and likes dead things. GT's an alien called a human. Don't really know what's up with him, or what he's doing here. Our race is in contact with the humans, yeah, there's eight of them and their timeline is just as screwed up as ours, but GT's the only one that's actually here. I think GA might have convinced him over solely to make him a member of the squad.
We're kind of fugitives. You can't say exactly that we're fugitives, as such, but we gotta stay outta the Condesce's eye. You know, I grew up wanting to be a legislacerator when I grew up, it's weird sometimes to think that I exist on the other side of the law now. I still hold trials with the scalemates. If we're ever caught, I'll be able to defend us in court easy.
Aaah, I'm distracted again! This is why GA never lets me write case logs. This isn't a journal. I need to report on the mission. (but I did give it a cool title like "volume" unlike what GA's been calling them, thus "volume one")
Did I mention we have a fort? Because we totally have a fort. It's in some ruins about half a mile from – You actually think I'm gonna say where we put our super-secret-and-probably-illegal home base?! Hehehe, suckas. Hehehehehehehehe.
So yeah. We're in our fort. We're not doing much, just hanging around, I think AA found some cake in the fridge so of course we're eating that. GA has her sewing machine out and is working on some of our outfits – her alien girlfriend TT sent her a human asexual pride flag design once and she decided we all needed uniforms in its colors. They're kind of dumb, but my blindfold is cool. Less fragile than glasses, also freaks people out. And I get a cape!
I remember I was about halfway through my cake when a notification popped up on our online AADS message board. That's how people ask us for help. I would give you the URL for if you need it, but that would be stupid, because if you're reading this you're on our site and the link is literally in all caps at the top of the page.
I'll copy-paste the message transcription. Here:
cA: nevver thought id say this kan
cA: and the rest a you guys
cA: i need your help
gA: Please Refrain From Using Even Parts Of Our Names For The Sake Of Anonymity
gA: And You Never Told Me You Were Ace
cA: wwhat
aA: asexual
cA: oh
cA: im not
gC: DONT T3LL M3
gC: YOU COULDNT F1ND 4NYON3 1N T1M3 FOR COLL3CT1ON D4Y
cA: …
gC: DO W3 H4V3 TO H3LP H1M
gA: Yes
gA: When Are The Drones Coming
cA: 15-20 min
gA: We Will Be There
I don't like CA. GA doesn't like CA, neither does AA. GT might, I don't know. He likes everyone. Also he's never met him so that might contribute.
CA's hive is underwater, but GT and AA go exploring in their spare time and sometimes need scuba masks for submerged caves and things. They have a couple extras lying around, so the whole breathing thing isn't a problem.
We swim down to CA's hive and knock on the door. No answer. This is pretty common, people think it's the drones showing up early, I honestly don't know why we still do it. So GT texts him (of course GT would have an underwater phone):
gT: Hello old chap? Its us outside your door not a drone!
cA: keys under the doormat
None of us have been to an underwater hive before so it takes us some time to figure out the whole airlock thing, but we manage. If we ended up having to fight underwater we'd be pretty screwed.
It takes us a while to find CA, who is in his respiteblock messing around with one of his "magic wands" that I'm pretty sure are plastic. Jumps like a foot when we come in. Hehehehe.
Of course, by this point we've all got our strife specibi out (except for AA because she's scary and doesn't need one), because sometimes the drones show up early and sometimes it's a trap and it's good to be prepared.
We talk to CA for a little bit, that part's boring and you don't need to know about it so I'll skip to the part where the bucket drone knocks – bangs, really – on the door. CA almost pees his pants at this point.
Now the drone always knocks twice, and you have to get there before it knocks again because it'll break the door down and if you think the Condesce will pay for that I don't know how you've escaped the cull so far. So we run out to the entryway, GA swings open the door and revs up her chainsaw, and STRIFE!
GA and the others (except CA who isn't contributing) make a valiant effort, of course, but the real spotlight of the scuffle is me, your own gallowsCalibrator. I deliver a sharp cane to the drone's eyepiece first, save GT's butt in a way I don't have time to dsflk knsadfkn G4 NO fjafds;kls;afdsafd Gc We've Talked About This fadsjlakfs djlkdfgaskdjlf
My apologies for that little interruption. gallowsCalibrator has been retired from typing duty and I, grimAuxiliatrix, will be taking over the narrative from here on out.
CA is gone the moment the drone bursts through the door, brandishing its filial pails obscenely. (Sometimes I envy GC for not being forced to behold such atrocities every single mission.) AA strikes first, as usual, to telepathically knock the drone off balance, but its slightly different underwater build enables it to regain its bearings. It sets down a bucket and its arm folds into an unnecessarily spiky sword, which it swings heavily at AA's head. GC jumps in just in time with a cane jammed in its elbow joint, and prevents a certain disaster. Then she leaps onto its back, trying to stab through its helmet, as AA begins to hurl any object she can find at it. GT takes careful aim, waiting for a clear shot, and I ready my chainsaw.
The drone jerks and falls to its metallic knees. GC takes the opportunity to backflip neatly to the ground, canesword still sticking from the back of the drone's neck. GT sees his moment and shoots, fracturing its glass eyepiece, I swing my chainsaw and the strife is over.
"Did you kill it?" comes a wavery voice from the corner of the ro akslfk G4 MOV3 fsasfdl;kfdslf,cnv
JUST1C3 H4S B33N S3RV3D 4ND TH3 COMPUT3R 1S R3TURN3D TO MY OH-SO-C4P4BL3 H4NDS
Oh right, GA doesn't want us to use quirks to type the mission logs. Damn. Sorry.
There isn't really much to tell after that. CA, who in theory is a pretty powerful and dangerous troll what with being a highblood and all, is cowering in the corner asking if it's dead yet. (Dear CA, if you're reading this: this is why no one likes you :] )
AA pokes half of the drone's bisected carapace with her toe. It sparks but doesn't start murdering. "Yes."
CA takes his time in straightening up and approaching. "Good," he says awkwardly, and clears his throat. "Do I – do I owe you anyfin'?"
GA blinks. This is not a question we hear very much, because it says that our services are free on our website right under the link to the message board in very significant yellow font.
"No," she replies finally.
Postmissions are so awkward. None of us are super good with people, and what do you even say after something like that? We really need some kind of script for before we leave. I won't fill you in on our awkward goodbyes because they're useless and unnecessary.
And if I'm not talking about the goodbyes and crap then that's more or less the end of this mission log. Thanks for reading, I guess? (I don't even know if anybody reads these things. They seem kind of boring to me. But GA wants them, and she's the leader sooo…..)
Ooh, GT just found some leftover cake in the fridge. It might be mine. I think it's mine. I need to go take that back before he eats it.