You hadn't intended on bringing a troll home. It wasn't what you wanted to do. But the poor girl looked so helpless, like she hadn't eaten a meal in weeks. You had to help.
"John, Karkat, I brought you guys a present," you call to your roommates. Karkat wasn't going to be happy. Nevertheless, you arrange a few pillows and lay the tiny girl on the couch. She smiles a bit, her eyes half closed in much needed rest, and you pull a blanket over her limp body. She's wearing a tight black dress ripped in a few places that not-so-proudly shows off the gills on her sides, and those weird fins on her neck are flushed bright pink.
"What the fuck did you do, Dave" an angry voice shouts from the doorway. "A troll?! You bought a troll?! How much did it cost you?Where's its cage!"
You cringe and stare at Karkat through your shades. You have no answer for his questions, and now he's just going to yell at you all day. Be cool, Dave, you tell yourself. Just be cool.
You don't have time to think of a witty remark, however, before John bursts out of his bedroom. "She's so cute!"
You just stare in awe and disbelief as John runs to the kitchen and pulls a half-eaten piece of cake out of the fridge. "She looks hungry! Did you find her on the street? I wonder why anyone would abandon such an adorable troll!"
You sort of back away and watch as Karkat and John lean over the couch and begin fussing with her hair, adjusting her pillows, and shouting questions at you. Eventually, you give in. "I found her in an alleyway. She looked really scared, so I calmed her down, picked her up, and brought her here. That's all. Big whoop."
Karkat shakes his head. "I've got to get to work, so if you two want to obsess over this troll, fine. I'm not paying for anything. Nothing. I'll just be here to laugh when you majorly fuck up and realize how stupid this was."
John frowns as Karkat slams the door. "He's so mean sometimes," he complains. "We have to nurse her back to health! I'll go look it up. Wait here in case she wakes up!"
You awkwardly kneel at the side of the couch as John bolts back into his room. The little girl really is a sad sight, her long hair tangled with her horns, the webs between her fingers ripped, her grey skin mottled with pink scars. She couldn't be more than eight. It struck you just then, the horrible cruelty towards animals. Terrifying. The poor, troubled darling.
Just then, the girl's eyes opened drowsily, and her dry lips parted. "Water," she muttered in a helpless but sweet voice. "Water... please."
You are a bit alarmed to hear an animal talk, but nonetheless run to the kitchen. Turning the tap on, you fill two shot glasses with water, figuring they'd be the easiest for her to drink from.
She's propped herself up against the arm of the couch, and her eyes light up when she sees the water. Her little hands reach out, stretching towards the glasses. You help her hold one of them and watch as she sips the water.
"Saltwater?" she asks, one eyebrow slightly raised.
"No," you shakily reply. Why would you give her saltwater?
"Can I have saltwater?"
Right then, John walks in, laptop in hand. He lights up almost exactly like her when he notices the troll awake. Hurrying over, his face is indescribably similar to what it looked like the first time he saw a double rainbow. He obviously wants to squeeze her cheeks and mumble baby words, and that is the most adorable thing you can conceive.
"It's better to have saltwater," she informs you weakly. "I don't know why. It's good."
You frown. It's nice that she's talking, because it means she's healthy enough to at least communicate, but doesn't saltwater dehydrate you?
"She's right, Dave," John informs you, already in the kitchen pouring salt into a pitcher of water. "She's a seadweller. Seadwellers naturally benefit more from saltwater than fresh water."
The girl sits up more, beaming from ear to ear. "Yes! I'm right! Can I... Can I have that cake?"
You awkwardly hand her the piece of cake John pulled out earlier. Yes, awkwardly. It's just John, you don't have to go over the top with the Strider coolness.
John shouts at you about all the other things he looked up about trolls, but you are busy focusing on the little girl as she pulls the cake apart with her fingers and stuffs as much into her mouth as she can, trying to gather the crumbs off of the couch. She doesn't look too unused to being fed scraps of food out of an unidentified hand, which leads you to wonder how many owners she's had. Poor girl.
John walks over and sits next to her. "I brought you some saltwater." A natural at this. Obviously. You're lucky to have him around.
"Thank you," she says politely before taking a large gulp from the glass of water. "What's your name?"
She seems really polite, which kind of contradicts everything you'd ever been told about trolls. Emotionless beasts your ass.
"I'm John, and this is Dave," John answers slowly.
"John and Dave," she muttered to herself. "I'm Feferi Peixes!"
"Well, Feferi," you say, sitting next to John. "We're going to take care of you. You're not going to end up alone like that ever again."
"Never?"
"Never, never."