A young troll stands in her respiteblock. There is nothing particularly interesting about this troll. Really there isn't. But let's get to know her anyway. Because one way or another she's important to the story, and important characters need to be properly introduced.

What's her name anyway?

Her name is GRACIE MAKARA and she is seven sweeps old. She gets pretty excited by clowns of a grim persuasion which may not be in full possession of their mental faculties. She belongs to a rather obscure cult, which foretells of a band of rowdy and capricious minstrels which will rise one day on a mythical paradise planet that does not exist yet. The beliefs of this cult are somewhat frowned upon by those dwelling in more common lawnrings. But she does not care, she just goes along with whatever her bro likes.

Because her bro is awesome.

She likes to do whatever it is her bro likes. And her bro likes to test out his one wheeled device even though he is god awful at it. He also likes to do a little bit of baking sometimes. They both partake in a rather fine beverage and they both have all these goddamn horns all over the place. Sometimes her bro steps on one and scares the shit out of himself.

Her trolltag is terribleChoreographer and she speaks in a Matter that is not too bad on her terMs but whiMsical all the MotherfuckinG saMe.

What will she do?

She snags a bottle of Faygo and it is captchalogued through her Action Modus. It works by every time she picks up an item, she must assign it to an action (i.e. pointing, jumping, rolling, catching, etc.). In order to get the item, she would have to perform that action. The item, when its corresponding action is used, is thrown at super high speeds.

For instance, if she were to pick up her knife and assign it to pointing. If she pointed at something, then the knife would be flung where she was pointing at unnecessarily high speeds. It's a pretty alright Modus, except that one time she accidentally pointed to a spider near her bro's foot and almost sent her knife into him.

And that's why her knife is now assigned to chopping. To retrieve her knife she would simply have to chop her arm, making sure her bro is nowhere near her when she does. Although she would have liked to the Miracle Modus her bro gave her, she just couldn't stand the thing. It was so complicated and the bright colors gave her a headache.

Speaking of her bro she should probably go and find him. She knows how he can be when he gets left alone for long periods of time.

She heads downstairs only to find this part of her respriteblock empty. Uh oh, it looks like Gamzee has been baking again. She doesn't mind her bro's baking, it's just that she doesn't really think it's good for him.

She may be wrong, but she's pretty sure trolls aren't supposed to eat sopor slime.

At least that's what she heard. She read it in a book once. After their custodian died freak accident involving a spear, he'd taken up the habit. She's..oksy with it? Maybe. But she won't bother him.
Whatever her bro wants to do is fine with her. Because he's awesome. Holy shit is he awesome.
But seriously, she should probably go and find him. She notices one of his clubs are missing. She never got the hang of juggling, so she resorted her strife specibus to batkind and knifekind.

Oh wait. There he is. He's out on the beach. He has his husktop with him so she can easily just troll him to get him back inside. Sure, it would be quicker and faster to just yell, but that would draw attention to her bro.

The last thing she'd want is for some passing seadweller to see her poor bro high out of his mind on the beach and decide to cull him. Her bro's too important to her.

Gracie, troll bro.

terribleChoreographer [TC] began trolling terminallyCapricious [TC]
TC: bro
TC: broooo
TC: broooooooo
TC: daMnit, GaMzee
TC: answer Me!
TC: WhAt?
TC: oH mAn SoRrY gRaCiE.
TC: I sPaCeD oUt.
TC: I know, bro. I can see you froM the hive.
TC: :o) hOnk!
TC: coMe on. You know you ain't supposed to be up and out this tiMe o' niGht. Sea dwellers, bro.
TC: I don't wanna coMe down there one day and find your ass broken up ya' hear?
TC: AlRiGhT i'M cOmInG sIs.
TC: :oD
TC: :o)
terribleChoreographer [TC] stopped trolling terminallyCapricious [TC]

Gracie got off her own husktop and decided that their hive was in too much of disorder for her liking. She picked up a few scattered horns and deposited them into the hornpile behind the cooling counter, and threw away the empty Faygo bottles that her bro was simply too out of it to try and do himself. That's okay though. She'd do anything for her bro.

Anything.

She's distracted with an issue of Game Grub and doesn't realize what's happening before it's too late.
The magazine goes flying from her hands as she gets enveloped in the worst tacklepounce anyone had ever seen. The two then proceed to roll around like a bunch of total idiots, laughing until they end up near the hornpile where they just lie there nuzzling into one another and tangled up like a bunch of squiddles.

Motherfuck were their quadrants so fucked up. No doubt they had the worse quadrants anyone would ever see. They were too red to be pale, yet not red enough to be flushed. Not that they would be flushed anyone. That would just be weird.

"Hey, lil motherfucker."

"Hey yourself, motherfucker."

"Whatchu up and getting your lookin' on?"

"You, motherfucker."

"Why?"

"Cause I can, motherfucker."

She breaks out in a small fit of giggles when he starts squishing her cheeks like when they were younger, her glasses getting skewed and no doubt her makeup smeared.

"Hey! Cut it out, bro!"

"Nah, that's aight."

"C'mon!"

"Naaaah."

"Gamzee!"

When he finally lets up, she gives him a swift swipe across the chest. Not meant to hurt but to get her point across that she really did not like it when he did that. He just laughs and tucks her under his chin and starts up a wicked purr in his chatterbox.

Yeah, her bro was awesome in all his weird clowny ways. Like when he starts rambling on about nothing in particular, sometimes his eyes will just get wide and he'll look at her and ask her shit like, "D'you fuckin' get what I'm putting down here, Gracesis?"

Sometimes she did. Sometimes she really understood just what the fuck it was her bro was saying and it made her feels biscuit hurt so good at all the shit that would come out of his mouth.

She starts up her own purr as he moves to the hornpile, falling into it without a second thought or grimace as bits of metal dig into his skin. She likes her own pile of blankets that she has up in her block of the hive, but she makes sure to have a few horns hidden in there somewhere.

"Hey, sis?" She cracks open one eye (when had she closed them?) to look at him through her lenses, humming her acknowledgment.

"Let's meet on Prospit, yeah? That sound like a motherfuckin' plan?"

"Yeah, bro. We'll get our meet on in the city of gold and we'll fly 'round and shit. Gon get some awful looks though. I dream on Derse 'member?"

"Ah, that shit don't matter. Long as we together, right? That's all that matters?"

Purple lips spread into a smile, snuggling closer to him with handfuls of his shirt as she mumbled.

"Yeah, bro. That shit's all that matters. It's always gon be you and me bro. Ain't needin' no one else, right?"

"Nah, no other fucker can be gettin' down in our miraculous pile time, sis. This shit's all us. Two sweet ass motherfuckers just gettin' their chills on."

This was all them. Just them two, no one else. No one could take this away from her. No one could take him. She wouldn't let them. He was her bro. No one else's.

He belonged to her.

"See you on Prospit, bro," She yawned, nodding off to the sound of his bloodpusher.

"See you on Prospit, sis."