=== Be Cadent the troll.

The horrors of yesterday continued to flash behind closed lids, burned into the back of my mind. Not in the literal sense of course, which would definitely happen were the highblood to gain the dignity to inform anyone of this desperation he had felt.

It is such a terrifying thing, being forced into a so called act of love or hate. So terrifying that I had panicked and stabbed him. Just looking at a highblood could get you culled, let alone stabbing them.

I have constantly regretted not delivering a fatal blow, rather than the little slice I jabbed into him, then I could have taken my knife, left him to be found by a fellow highblood, or to be mutilated by another lowblood. That way there would be absolutely no connection between him and I. It would have been as if I hadn't ever existed to the man, as far as the detectives would ever be concerned. I would have been fine.

I sighed and frowned at my reflection. I sat down my brush, after having untangled every single strand of my thickly curled, black troll hair. My faintly tinted purple, and grey skin, and bright violet eyes made up the rest of my pretty face. Of course my face would only ever be pretty to me, or any other troll, as soon as my fins were covered.

Those hideous things are my only real reminder of my lowblood status. Thanks to my ancestor, Matnen Ampora, having fought along side the Sufferer and his people, I was regarded as a descendant with the probability of doing something great, so I was left to live a happy, rich life.

Trolls still treat me like a lowblood, but at least I have a large hive, a great education, and what was regarded as a strangely luck streak.

I tugged a scarf around my throat to conceal my fins from the outer world, the pulled up my long violet dress, which would flow easily in the light and chilly breeze. Satisfied that the long wool sleeves would trap the warmth against me when I would face the harsh season's cold, and that I will look devilishly fashionable, I grabbed my book bag and dashed out of my room.

=== Be Sollux. Wake the fuck up.

Holy fuck. Ow. Fuck my side hurts really fucking bad. Why the hell does it hurt so damn much?

I felt my way down to my abdomen which was currently shirtless due to the fact that I had been sleeping, and since I had awoken, I had kicked away my blankets, leaving my chest bare.

Oh, fuck. Right. I had gone out for drunken shenanigans last night. That would also explain why I also have an extremely killer headache. I must have gotten into a bar fight with some guy and he must have stabbed me. Shit, pretty fucking deep too. What a cheap move.

I lifted my hand to my head, wanting to just sort of try to push the pain out of my poor head. No such luck, but I did find a note taped just below my hairline. Good. It would have sucked if I had to rip it out of my hair while I had such a pulsing headache.

I gripped it lightly in my hand and frowned. What idiot would leave a note for a blind man anyways? Probably Karkat. Worst fucking moirail.

After a short interal rant about my idiot moirail, I reached over the over stuffed pillows, draped all over the bed surrounding me, over towards my side table on which I hoped to find my glasses laying there unharmed. Of course not having glasses wouldn't change too much if they were damaged, I'd just prefer they were not.

All my glasses are really for is to make me more approachable. People often shied away from me ever since I had gotten into that accident with the Ampora guy. Fucking douche had knocked my eyes out. Quite literally. Anyways, the glasses didn't make me entirely approachable again, but they did make me a lot more approachable than I would be were they able to see my eyeless sockets.

=== Be lowblood sitting in first period, oddly named Elegant Magistry.

This, no doubt, is my least favorite class. Who really cares for elegance in such an estranged world anyways? Certainly not the men it were meant to impress.

Our teacher, a women in the green part of the color spectrum, stood straight as the wall she had all the students pressed tightly against.

I probably would not complain about the discomfort were it not for the fact that most other females within the class also whined with such undignified tones.

The teacher claimed that exercise was mean to perfect our imperfect posture, but I had a sneaking suspicion that it was really a method of torture that was still legal outside the executioner training walls. After enough persuasion, she finally and thankfully released us to go to our seats, as long as we swore to sit as straight as the chair backs would allow.

It was a good thing too because my back had begun to hurt thanks to all the upright standing. People are always saying that good posture is the key to a great feeling back, but I feel like that is complete bullshit. I still do it anyways, but that doesn't mean I can't complain. I had sauntered back over to my desk and once I plopped down, I felt a small piece of paper hit my cheek.

I looked over at Densyl Pacton, the bitch of bitches, as Vriska the bitch, so cleverly calls her. Vriska Serket was the girl to my left with some seriously wild hair, by the way, just in case you were wondering. Densyl smiled in the way only a bitch with dirt could manage and I glared. What does she want?

"what?", I hissed.

She gestured to the paper she had thrown then made an unfolding motion with her hands. I let my glare melt into a look of clear confusion. I did as she wanted anyway.

'Is that yellow blood on your pretty white shoes?'

Fuck.

'No? Why would I have yellow blood on my shoes? I probably just scuffed them on something.'

I passed it back.

'Liar, you flinched. So did you finally crack? Did you kill a highblood out of pure lowblood fury? Do I need to report you? I'm sure his Imperiousness would love a new trial to handle, especially one against you.'

'You are mad.'

I passed the note back again and waited for her reaction, prepared to leave the country if needed, or maybe even the universe, were it to come to that. Densyl, in the end, merely shrugged and stood gracefully as the dismissing bell rang, and walked cheekily from the confines of the class. I stared hatefully after her until Vriska broke the spell by draping herself across my desk, and shoving my mouth shut.

"You don't want to catch any innocently curious bugs in such a pretty trap, do you? Seems like such a waste of trap to do so."

I smirked at her. She was always flirting with me, and all though I hated leading her on, it was so addicting and so very much fun to flirt back. "Only bug I want in my mouth is you, spider girl." I said with a wink. She smiled and I saw a bit of her blue blood fade through her cheeks, before my eyes widened. Shit. I unwrapped my scarf from around my throat and tied it around her's, concealing the blush in the process, all the while making it look like some sort of flirtatious banter hopefully.

With this being a highblood school, no one below the yellowish-greens were aloud within the walls, so if a supposed yellow blood were to be found blushing blue, things would not go well. And while I'm a special case, if Vriska, a supposed yellow blood, were caught by one of the teachers or staff, blushing a dark blue, she would more than likely be kicked out, then probably beaten to near death by highblood trolls, just like everyone else. Not that everyone else was a very large group, maybe five or six. These trolls were a very rare occurrence, they either don't have the guts for such an act, or they are caught early on in their adventures into the unknown world of highbloods.

I grabbed our book bags and rushed the both of us from the class, prepared to ditch the next class until Virska's blush faded. Or just the entire class. Yeah. That works. It really doesn't matter anyways, it's art, beginner's art.