It doesn't take you long to see it, despite the pouring rain. Something is clearly moving by your front door. At first, you think it to be a robber, and start running right at it. Moments before the collision, you stop and see what it is you're attacking. The thing barely comes up to your knees. It has grey skin, which makes it blend in with its dark surroundings. It has - you count - four orangey horns protruding from its head in pairs - two on each side. It looks like it was trying to get in your house to shelter from the rain.

Your name is Dave Strider, and there is a troll at your doorstep.

For a moment, you exchange glances. By that, you mean, you stare at it, it sneaks a glance and then goes back to trying to break into your house.

You're not really sure what to think, but then it turns and coughs at you. It's the raspiest thing you've ever heard, and it tugs your heart so much your judgement clouds over and you bend to pick up the little troll. For a moment, it backs up, but then it notices how warm your arms are and it opts to freeze in place instead. You wrap your arms around it to keep it warm and then you step through the front door.

In the light of the house, you can see the troll far easier. It is deathly thin - looks like it hasn't been fed in days. It is wearing a some tiny trousers and a shirt, they look like the kind of shirt you buy because it looks nice, then keep because it suits you. The shirt completely black with a yellow coloured Gemini symbol on it. It's doing nothing to keep him warm, and instead is caking to its skin with the rain and freezing him more. It looks up at you, and you notice how odd its eyes are. One of them is red, and the other is blue. It looks like he has built in 3D glasses. You chuckle for a second; the troll shivers, and you crash back to reality. This troll is absolutely freezing. You put your jacket around him and sit him down on the carpet.

Suddenly you hear the sound of footsteps, and from round the corner of the hall flies your brother - you almost forgot about him. Standing there in his anime shades, you see his straight line mouth falter slightly, almost giving up his cool-kid act. Before you can say anything, he speaks.

"What the fuck're you doing with that?", he says. He uses a higher tone of voice, but you know he won't shout. It's against his cool kid act.

This man is Dirk Strider, or in your books, simply 'Bro'.

"You can't keep a troll!"

You start to formulate an argument, when suddenly the troll whines. It's a quiet, horribly raspy voice and it rips your heart to shreds and burns the ashes. Luckily for the troll, this causes Bro's face to drop and his shoulders to slump in defeat. He sighs and storms off.

He flies off to his computer. He's probably working on something from home. He's a tech support guy, but he hates it when you call him that - he'd never show it, but you could tell.

You rest the troll down on the ground. It looks up at you and gets frightened by your intimidating height. It backs up, only to walk into a wall and fall forward. The troll obviously has more pressing matters at hand, so it decides to walk back to you. It really is freezing. It slumps slightly on your side and you decide to put it in your bed. It may be a bit big for the troll, but wrapped in the covers it should keep him at a half-decent temperature until tomorrow, when you can perhaps take him to a doctor or something. The troll is out like a light, almost literally; without those tiny 3D-glasses eyeballs, the room seems far more monotonous and boring. You really should spruce it up, just a little.

You follow in Bro's footsteps and fling yourself computer-ward. After making a safe landing on the I.S.S. Computer Chair, you make a quick google search about trolls. Apparently you should have put him in a pile of random shit, but you don't have any random shit so you think the bed will be alright. You're quite exhausted yourself, you ought to read all this when you have more energy. You quickly check your ironic blog and make a post using unnecessary amounts of tags. You safely undock from the computer chair and walk into Bro's room.

Bro gives you a sideways glance and goes back to whatever he was doing on the computer. You peep over his shoulder, and he's wasting his time on a social network. So much for all that important work he always claims to have. Then again, you spend most of your time on them too, but in the face of irony, all is good.

You obviously have nothing else to do, and while you have no work tomorrow, you think the troll will be enough work if you need to take him to the vets/troll doctor/man at the side of the road holding a sign saying 'FREE INJECTIONS'. Not only that, you have no idea what he thinks of you. He might be absolutely scared shitless, and then you'll have to try and sort everything out.

You sidle in next to the young troll and hope you don't wake him in the night. You are reassured by the sound of the troll's breathing, and you quickly pass out and sleep without dreams.

Hey. This is an experiment for me to see if I should bother writing more. I had a bit of difficulty writing a lot, but I tried :c. Let me know what you think, and if you see anything wrong with it, let me know.

(Yes, Bro = Dirk)