AN: Hi, everyone! I am back with a new episode for 'Voice of Rebels'. This one is the very first episode and the start to the main plot! I like to thank all the people who have been following and reviewing this story so far as progress seems to be growing a little. I hope that you guys will enjoy this chapter as much as I do. Without further ado, let's go!
For this chapter, I've written my own lyrics for 'We Don't Care' by Sigala feat. The Vamps. It was meant to be a different song, but I really love the melody, so I used it. I changed nearly the entire lyrics to make it more relatable and kid-friendly for the story while still adding in my own version. I even wrote lyrics for my own version of 'POP/STARS'; the same one as I made in a teaser chapter from my first Trolls story. If this may be wrong or considered copying, then please let me know straight away and I'll try to take it down immediately.
Song Reference
[1] Video Games (Meta Runner) - AJ Dispirito
[2] POP/STARS (Seraphine Cover; Instrumental) - TAEB (0:00 - 0:51)
[3] Good To Be Alive (Instrumental) - CG5 (Repeat 0:00 - 0:06)
[4] We Don't Care - Sigala feat. The Vamps
[5] Sugar Honey Ice Tea - OR3O (Repeat 0:00 - 0:45)
[6] Fun Indie Music For Youtube Videos (Royalty Free) - Sharp Sound Music
'New Swag in Town' Part 1 - New News Have Just Arrived!
?
"Music is the power of everything."
Indeed, it is. Music shapes our entire lives. [1]
"Jobs, lifestyles, entertainment. It is the tree root of the entire Troll species and music has never left the soul of one Troll. Any kind of Troll, no matter genre, age, gender or experience, they would have some form of ability to play music or go along with the rhythm of a song. No matter which Troll, they would always have a heart that loves to beat to the music. Even though music has now become a treasured item only enjoyed by today's generation, it still plays a part of everything in our lives. It has made us who we are. And technically, it has made who the Trolls are in the first place.
There will be a time when all tribes are back together, but how long will they be? Only time will tell if the music separates them. It is really interesting with how the power of music equals to the power of control of the kingdom. This power of music can mean something more than just peace and prosperity in the world. While now that every one of us tried to be careful with it, who knows if someone tries to use it for their own advantage.
But whatever pride or arrogance they have, it wouldn't matter. We don't really care about how this infects the environment, so why does the power of music have to do anything to harm us? Maybe this can be used for something else. Something that isn't exactly us. Maybe something that will bring it back to life as a glorious creature to be known. To be like a…Troll again. To brighten their minds a little more.
That being said, what I made will change the world. It will change every species in the world. And hopefully, it will bring back the life that is needed. But for now, it is going to take some time with this creature. With my AO1 condition, I can control it. I just hope my father don't judge me again for this."
I stared at the radio that laid in front of the table. Ever since Jazzy – as known as the Chess Master – moved out, she had nearly left the entire place clean and left some furniture for show if there is anyone who wants to buy the house. Her parents chose not to buy it in hopes that Jazzy might return to live there. But no. She won't return because of her job so far at TrollsTopia. She took everything with her. Every single thing that she needed to be efficient.
But not this box of cassette tapes.
Not the one that was inserted in her old radio.
Worn out, beige brown and dusty. Like every single thing I see in my Swing Troll society.
I wondered if these tapes were still playable. They are still usable and good to use, not even a single wire is sticking out. By Jove, how long did Jazzy kept those? Where did she exactly find them? I doubt that she would collect something that good-looking. Or evident. Whatever for, you want to call.
I picked up another tape. This one appeared a little destroyed. Burnt on the side and the tape reels nearly ruined. Nevertheless, I decided to put it in the radio. Upon my word, it can't hurt to hear how this one would sound like. [1s]
There was nothing when I pressed 'play'. A long screech of static for a while before there was heavy breathing from the other side. It sounded like there was someone…having trouble trying to breath.
A voice came through.
"T-T-This is an update from Project P-P-P." The young male voice I heard before was glitching out. "Actually, it might be the last log I am going to make. It's an annihilation of the project!"
There was yelling in the background along with loud thudding. It appeared to be coming from a door.
"I am not sure if I will be able to continue this experiment. The glass is broken, so that means the creature is free to go around in the real world when it isn't even ready! I was meant to fix it, but those guys caught me."
I was growing nervous by this. The banging was growing louder.
"I am…kind of glad I was able to get these messages right…well…if anybody can see them, hopefully you can let…somebody know? Heh heh."
I squinted my eyes, trying to figure out what the heck was going on back there.
"Maybe you can…try looking further into the pit a little deeper when you can find it. I mean, I hid it pretty well good. You know…"
I felt my throat growing dry.
"I have always wonder if there are more brainless Bergans like them. Like…erm…the worse kind of depression. You know."
The banging suddenly stopped. There was the sound of what must be an engine. It was growling in the background before growing louder and louder. And I could hear the ratting, rasping moan of…someone.
"Wait a minute. I thought that somebody was going to-"
KKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
I nearly stepped away when I heard the loud crash. Because of the radio's short quality, all I could hear was static, crashing and garbled yelling. It was growing from soft to loud, nearly going high-pitched. A wave of unwanted noises that could bleed somebody's ears. Then, the sound seemed to be going back up. But there was something squeaking jarringly.
Something that seemed to be crunching up my ears.
I whimpered as I put my hands over my ears. It was growing louder, painful and just itching my entire body. It was as if it was threatening me. Like the squeaking of a balloon, but it sounded really uncomfortable. Like something trying to reach inside of me. It was giving me shivers, prickling my skin.
I wanted to turn it off, but the radio was growing louder and the unknown sounds were becoming more dominant over the next few words.
However, after a few seconds, I could hear people talking.
"S-Stay back! Stay back please! I don't mean to harm you!"
"You…don't…mean…anything…to…ME!"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH-!"
"Don't! Please stop this now! Or else I will-!"
ZAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPP!
There was a loud zapping noise that sounded worse than the high-pitched squeaking. A loud scream of anguish and another scream that appeared to be out of anger and hatred. Then, the sound started to fizzle before it culminated into an explosion.
KABLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM!
I screamed, jumping back. I thought that the radio was going to explode literally. There was a long moment of silence as static was the only thing that filled the sound. Then silence. I wasted no time by quickly picking up the tape out of the radio and placed it back in the box.
I was nervous of playing any of the tapes again. What was that? What were they trying to tell me? What was this experiment they kept mentioning? I wondered what it was all about, but because of the uncomfortable sounds at the last one, that was REALLY terrifying for me. Heaven forbid, I want to smash it under my foot.
But it is wickedness, I can't just destroy them without Jazzy's permission. Maybe I should bring this to her and show them. Maybe she knows something.
After all, she knows a lot more about the hinterlands she kept calling.
Indie Hideout, Volcano Rock City
One young Indie Alternative Troll let the music played from his guitar. He was a little nervous about this one as it was a cover of another song. He likes it, but he wasn't sure if this one was going to sound good. It can't hurt to try for the 5th time. He was having some progress, so what is the harm? [2]
"I'm like thunder, that's no shame
If you wanna, scream my name
Cause I like to make it loud, loud, loud, loud."
The gentle acoustic sounds were really harmonious. There was something along the melody of toughness, beauty and hope. But something seemed off about it.
"I'll try to reach the top
And from there, I'll never stop
You can call me a bad bad boy, yeah."
He sounded more…vulnerable than ever before. He never sounded so shaky or nervous when singing. Why did he sound like this?
"And when you see the real me
Oh you would want to flee."
Oh, he wish so.
"I might look good on the out
But I'm beast in the in
No need to predict who's gonna win, yeah."
He tried using this music. To make him forget. About every single bad thing.
"Can you keep your eyes on me now?
Cause I'm going so so too fast
I'm on top of the ring now
I can take you out with a blast."
If he wan to feel good, then why does he feel that he can't make himself feel good?
"I got the whole world in my hands
Do you think you can protect your land?
I'm so tough, I play it really rough
Can you feel the rush now-?" [2s]
"Oh, Bastille!" said a voice, suddenly busting through his room. "You got your bags ready yet?"
Bastille yelped, nearly dropping his guitar to the floor. Just nearly in front of him was another Indie Alternative Troll, grinning from cheek to cheek.
"P-P-Punk?!" sputtered Bastille. "H-How did you get in here? I locked the door!"
"You got a cat flap right at the door there!" giggled Punk. "Did you see it?" [3]
Bastille was flustered. He was about to protest when he saw the cat flap from his room door. He sighed, knowing how he was starting to become more off-track than before. It had been 8 months ever since the World Tour. The one that nearly cost his life AND cost him his dignity. He screwed up after getting a few people upset here and there, but he swore never to do that again. Ever since he gave up being a world explorer, he decided to try to rest. He misses some of his glory days, but he REALLY needs to take a break instead of running from dangerous beasts 24/7.
However, living amongst the now-reuniting Indie Alternative Trolls, things had gone a little more quieter. Thank God that Echo was brave enough to take the unofficial title as Prince of Indie because he did a pretty good job in finding scattered Indie Alternative Trolls. Some of them were really reluctant about coming together, knowing that the other Trolls might not be nice to them. However, after a lot of convincing, they gave in. The whole new-found tribe was a little hard to handle. They were really rowdy and quite immature. Most of them were just teenagers or young adults. Who knows why there is a short number of elders to keep things safe.
The presence of more Indie Alternative Trolls had been great, but Bastille didn't seem to be into this. He tried making an effort to fit in or talk to anyone. Some of them like him, some of them don't care. It was…a little hard. He wasn't sure why, but he felt quite out of place from them. Not because they didn't like him at all, but he felt that he might be too awkward for them. He didn't even know who he can turn to. Occasionally, several Indie Alternative Trolls popped around either to mess with him or greet him a warm gift. He would accept, but he didn't have any other reason to try to mix.
He nearly have nowhere to turn to.
Worse, he didn't even bother trying to check in with the leaders. Poppy and Branch had their own problems; he shouldn't interfere because of how harsh he was to them back before. Some of the Pop Trolls didn't really forgive him after they heard what happened. Barb was doing whatever she was doing at her castle. She was busy on an 'experiment' and hadn't been able to catch up with Echo or him. The rest of the leaders were handling their own kingdoms.
It had been quiet. Too quiet then what he want. He wishes that he can feel like him again. Be the Bastille he knew during the World Tour. The one who was never afraid to cross the line. But now with everything mellowing down…he doesn't know what to do.
Shaking off those toxic thoughts, Bastille unconsciously packed away everything he needed. Because of his restless fatigue and uneasiness, he felt that he needs to find a getaway. A good vacation away from his current sheltered life. TrollsTopia had opened up to more sub-tribes and it took some time for the Indie Alternative Trolls to finally cave in. There were going to be other sub tribes. Bastille might recognize the leaders or the people they sent.
Punk was already giddy, pretty excited for the trip.
"This is going to be so cool I tell you!" she squealed. "I never thought that I would get to be the leader of the Indie Alternative Trolls in TrollsTopia. Can you imagine what I can do for our people when we get there?"
Bastille groaned a little. Punk was a really nice girl, but she could get a little giddy and weird when around him. He thought that she might have a crush on him, but he knocked that aside. She is just a really free-spirited girl, so he shouldn't be against her like this.
"I think you would be more likely trying to piece things together for making…new instruments for music," said Bastille quietly.
"Oh, I'm sure of it!" said Punk, brushing her pink hair bangs aside. "You would never know what they will have to offer for us. The music, the plaza, the fashion. All in its glory! It would be perfect for my research."
"What research? You never mention any of this to any of us."
"I've been thinking about it all night and I got the idea of maybe doing a little bit of 'shopping' around in TrollsTopia. See how each tribe goes, whether TrollsTopia is succeeding and see if the society is really stable."
Bastille chuckled dryly. "I…eh…not sure about that. Anything can happen there."
"Oh, but we are prepared. We are Independent Trolls!" proposed Punk. "We are victorious! And we never back down from dominance."
There was a long moment of silence.
"…you sound like you are trying to take advantage of a sleep time," muttered Bastille.
Punk's smile dropped, looking a little dumbfounded. "No. I don't do that."
"Then what's with the noises you were making upstairs?"
Punk laughed sheepishly. "Ha, ha, ha. Just doing my own experiments. Love a little bit of inventing."
"Right…"
"I meant to tell you this, but I once considered you to be our ambassador in TrollsTopia. Echo told me that you don't want to, but I think you have everything you need. Don't you think?"
Bastille had been refusing to make eye contact with her, but hearing her question, he turned around to face her. A yellow-skinned Troll with mint green eyes and pink hair tied up in a tall ponytail with side swept bangs. She wore a simple pink shirt with a light shade it on the top half, a black long-sleeved undershirt, black shorts and several gold accessories on her legs, arms and left ear. Seeing her, she looked hopeful and trusting towards Bastille.
The grey Troll sighed, waving his hand. "Just leave it. I don't have what it takes to be a leader."
"You know that we can make you one," said Punk. "I mean, you helped save the world for all of us."
"No. I'm just an accessory to them. And by the way, if you didn't know, I wasn't the nicest guy around Poppy and Branch. I was out-of-control and you think that just because 'everyone likes me' means I should be one?"
Punk shrugged. "Well, I have been hearing a lot of positive news about you…about your fashion choices, not the World Tour actually."
"Look," said Bastille, growing agitated. "This is still new to me, OK? It's been 8 months, but nobody has really process everything going on. The migration, the moving in part and the communication? It's…still a hard thing to do."
"Then where would you be if you are outside? Alone?"
Bastille shrugged. "I don't know."
"What do you exactly want?"
"Peace."
Punk snorted. "That is utter bullcrap."
"You're a terrible politic."
"I know that things haven't been the same for you. Life will never be the same again after what happened when the six strings were destroyed. I mean, I never thought I would be given a chance to stay with others. But look on the bright side; we have a new home, you are forgiven for anything bad you did, nobody has been mean to you and the Hard Rock Trolls have been helping us so far."
"They really did a good job in providing such a shelter like this," agreed Bastille.
"Besides, the reason why I am in is because I want to guide you and the other Trolls to have a good life. I even had to give up my Pizza Buffet ticket to pay for a position that seems so 'stupid'."
"That is a really huge risk."
"So don't take this as that much as a struggle. We are free to do anything. We are Independent Trolls."
Bastille already knew that this was a good point, but the problem? "To do what?"
Punk raised her eyebrows. "To do whatever the hell you want. Now, come along and put on your best suit and tie. Your homie Branch will be here soon!"
"He's not my 'homie'. He's just a good teacher."
"Still counts!" Punk already left Bastille's room, skipping all the way as she took his bags away.
The grey Troll sighed as he collapsed onto his bed. He looked around his entire room. It was already spotless since he won't be back at the Indie Hideout for long. He got to admit that it doesn't look too bad. Black walls with turquoise splatters all over and a ceiling light that is at least working. Hopefully, the next owner would find his bed comfy. [3s]
Sighing deeply, Bastille got up and checked the nearby wall mirror. He changed his hair from turquoise to lavender, needing a little bit of a change for at least today.
"Calm down, Bastille," he said to himself, closing his eyes. "The old angsty and cranky you is put behind…you got to try to leave it all behind…while in TrollsTopia, you will need to have a new look. And by new look…"
Within minutes, he was dressed in hopes of impressing the civilians of TrollsTopia. This is going to be his first day there, so he wanted to look neat. He wore golden necklaces, a wooden cross necklace, a dark blue hoodie, a white denim vest with yellow accents, black pants and black fingerless gloves. The grey Troll checked that his hair still looks striking and combed properly to the right. Need to see if his shaved side is visible. Turquoise line over his yellow and blue eyes? Check. His lavender nose was just cleaned.
"Now that is a brand, fresh look," said Bastille, smiling to himself.
Bastille
- Indie Alternative Troll
- World Geologist, Adventurer, Explorer
- Too shy to get into leader and political interviews
He opened his door and admired the hallway he entered. The walls were mostly grey since nobody bothered to place a coat of paint over it. However, they placed a lot of stickers all around in different colors. There were nearby Indie Trolls like him, chattering excitedly about TrollsTopia.
You see, these Trolls nearly look like a Pop version of Rock Trolls. Half of them have grey skin while the rest are in colors of either vibrant or dull turquoise, blue or purple. Some of them are in reds or greens. Their hair styles nearly look like the Pop Trolls. Some of them are sticking upwards while some of them are styled based on the other tribes. However, their hair is in interesting colors such as fading gradients or shiny.
One striking feature from all of them is that no less than one has either eye markings or stripes over their bodies. Some of them have glitter over their eyes, legs or arms. Some of them have stripes across their bodies. Some of them have interesting face markings.
They even wear clothes that look similar to the Rock Trolls, but tamer. Most of them wear urban and modern street clothes such as hoodie jackets, caps, track pants and gold jewelry.
Bastille smiled a little. He isn't that close to some of these Trolls, but he knows that they might miss him. He still felt butterflies in his stomach. He knew that coming to TrollsTopia was one thing, but that means mixing with the other Trolls.
Would they be alright if he stuck around?
How would the Pop Trolls react?
What should he do? He isn't one at trying to talk. Well, he did sometimes, but he doesn't really have a plan of what he wants to do. He wants to relax, not do a huge announcement like what the leaders do.
He rubbed his forehead, wincing. He is already feeling uncomfortable with this. He wonders if it is a good idea to go anyway. He couldn't focus or mutter to himself. He couldn't think straight. Instead, he looked far ahead, bopping his head to a tropical synth playing. Echoes could be heard, bringing a summer feel. A loud rhythm of clicks as Bastille began to sing softly. [4]
Bastille: It's too late, to go back home
Sore in my bones, but I need to soar
He got out of his room, nearly feeling dizzy as he began to walk.
Bastille: It's too late, you hit the switch
I can't resist, this show is on my list
He wishes that he can stay steady on both of his feet for once in his life. Why can't he just stay calm and relaxed? Was he feeling bored or insecure? He doesn't know as he leaned against a balcony fencing that blocked him from falling down the stairs.
Bastille: Trying to find some closure
Would be easy if I was calmer
Yet the danger is closer
But I'm feeling alright
Knowing this happy vibe, it was kind of ironic with the words he was singing. It was nearly anything, but truly happy. Yet, it was like there was an urge for him to continue. He let himself go into song as the Indie Alternative Trolls around him – from walking around or staying in their rooms – sang together, going on with their own lives.
Bastille and All: Ohh, well I cannot stop
But we're unlocked, even if it it's all for naught
But we don't, we don't care
We don't care, we don't, we don't care
The music playing in the background had quickly turned from calm to upbeat. Trap and kickdrum beats were added in for the calming synths and guitar riffs as the energy was suddenly turned up.
All: Oh, waiting for the night
Coming for the ride, even if it don't look right
But we don't, we don't care
We don't care, we don't, we don't care
The drop came in with a catchy hook and some of the repeated ab-libs in autotune. Bastille slid down the banister. As he entered the bottom level, it was already a party going on.
There were so many Indie Trolls already dancing wildly and singing loudly together to this tropical, dance music. The paint splatters on the wall seemed to keep flashing to the rhythm of the song.
Bastille ignored the impromptu party around him as he continued singing and reading his own confusion about himself.
Bastille: So through, another headache
Too much mistakes, but it rise like a cake bake
So grey, so low, but I don't feel so cold
I'm fine if we go loco
He looked around him. There were so many Trolls getting along with each other and being kind to each other. None of them appears to be awkward or off, given that it isn't ulterior. Why does he feel as if he is the one with problems?
Bastille: Trying to find some closure
Would be easy if I was calmer
Yet the fire is closer
But I'm feeling alright
He stopped at a nearby door frame, leaning against it to collect his thoughts as he sang.
All: Ohh, well I cannot stop
But we're unlocked, even if it it's all for naught
But we don't, we don't care
We don't care, we don't, we don't care
He bounced into the room, noticing all the Indie Trolls in there. They were having some interactions with other or pretending that they were singing on stage. Truly in their own world, they imagined themselves singing for a crowd. Bastille closed his eyes as he made his way to the middle, spinning slowly.
All: Oh, waiting for the night
Coming for the ride, even if it don't look right
But we don't, we don't care
We don't care, we don't, we don't care
As if on cue, they all stared to dance as the drop came in. Bastille decided to take the lead, making his fellow Trolls follow his moves. They used their arms, legs and feet, bringing a reflexive and bouncy tone to their choreography. It was nearly rebellious, tough and fun. A good way to show themselves in the best picture.
Bastille smiled to himself. He will enjoy this one for the moment. After all, he can't resist a nice song with his tribe.
Bastille broke away from the group, walking out of the room and finding himself hanging near the balcony. In front of him was a large room, the size of a warehouse. Below him were several Indie Alternative Trolls, dancing to the music of the song. The room seemed to turn dark with the paintings on the walls glowing slightly.
Bastille: Maybe I have been selfish, cause I want to be alone
But maybe I just can't help it, I don't want to let go
As soon as the beat came back, all the Trolls broke out of their slow-motion movements before jerking around to the rising beat of the incoming drop. Bastille watched, but his mind was in another place.
Bastille: Maybe we have been reckless, cause we can feel at home
But maybe we just can't help, so we can get some more
Knowing that he shouldn't be resting away, he jumped down from the balcony and sang along with all the Indie Alternative Trolls. The chorus came back and this time, everybody took the lead. There was no leader. The whole room was bathed in light as the paintings glowed brightly and even some of them shot out spotlights!
All: Ohh, well I cannot stop
But we're unlocked, even if it it's all for naught
But we don't, we don't care
We don't care, we don't, we don't care
The whole room was starting to glitch in red, blue or green. None of them seemed to care about it. They knew that the glitching patterns would happen around them every time they sang. It is something that they are used to.
All: Oh, waiting for the night
Coming for the ride, even if it don't look right
But we don't, we don't care
We don't care, we don't, we don't care
As the final drop came in, they all started to dance. They sang and dance without a care in the world. Through a world that seemed to be in mayhem or danger, this one was for those who got lost or those who wanted to fit in. Those who wanted the thrill of a night, even if it would be just for one. This song reflected them a lot; their carefree, independent and wild personalities combined to symbolize their creativity and a new sound for Pop Music.
As the song came to a stop once the final line was sang, all the Trolls began to cheer while some collapsed on the floor, regaining their breath. Bastille was one of the latter, bending down a little as he huffed. [4s]
He loved it. It was what he needed. It was pleasant.
With the musical number over, the Indie Alternative Trolls continued to do what they would occasionally do. It was as if they never settled down after a tiring song. They went back to their groups or ran around in different directions like children in a playground. A majority of them picked up white canvases and started painting on them. A few of them were getting into some play fights, throwing things around.
Bastille wiped his forehead and leaned back against the wall. A few Trolls were doing the same or lying on the ground to rest. He huffed a little. He felt kind of better when in this main living room. Where all the wild things could run wild. There was a lot of energy going on, but sometimes, he couldn't concentrate on some of his tasks he would like to do.
He kept debating on whether it would be a good thing for him to stay or leave. On the plus side, he might be able to see the leaders again. On the downside, he would leave the place he felt that he could belong to. But he didn't feel that connected to it.
Just what is going on with him?
The door opened right next to him, revealing to be Punk pushing a REALLY large trolley of bags and luggage.
"Oh man," grumbled Punk, observing the mayhem in front of them. "Why don't we have a good order right in here?"
"Nobody really likes being tied down," said Bastille. "We are independent. Remember that."
"I know, I know. I just hate having to push heavy objects through this crowd. I am NOT going to be picking up bags again."
"Maybe I can help you get through them," offered Bastille. "I can provide some sort of help to you."
"I think you should get ready."
"I am ready. I don't have anything else to do."
"Then do you think you can get us to the other side without crumbling this pile down?"
"Just take it slow," said Bastille. "I mean, I am not the type of guy who always speed ahead. Well…erm…sometimes, but not in this kind of thing."
SMASH! [5]
A body flew right through the glass window from outside, crashing head-first right in front of the two Indie Alternative Trolls. The glass shattered everywhere, but it didn't seem to faze any of them. In fact, it seemed to be more of a random, invincible bird coming in.
Bastille yelped when the glass broke. He jumped back, looking down to inspect the person. They rose up, revealing a familiar light brown face.
Charleston puckered her lips with a derpy look on her face. "Hello there."
Bastille sighed as he pushed back his hair. Why of course, it would be Charleston of all people to break through a glass window that could have scratched her. He didn't know where she got her eccentricities from. Charleston has been an alright person so far. She had been trying to call him or visit him sometimes. He isn't sure since he doesn't want to get hurt by her. But in any case, she is a friendly Troll, so he doesn't want to be mean to her.
She is dressed perfectly and it nearly looked like she fixed her outfit a little. Light brown skin, yellow eyes, a dark blue nose and midnight hair tied up in a ponytail. She wears her favorite brown fedora with a black stripe that now has a bow on it. A half business brown jacket and a half white top with a golden button on the right with a black collared shirt covering the rest of her upper body. She was wearing black pants with the right side cut off and short.
She looked dashing as she is absent-minded. Not dumb, but just absent-minded at times.
"H-Hi, Charlie," said Bastille, waving his hand meekly. "Didn't expect you to be here."
Charleston grinned. "I didn't expect to be able to get here at the top of the building!"
"…how come you decided to pop in?"
She giggled as she stood up. "The bus taking the Swing Trolls are also taking the Indie Trolls over to TrollsTopia. Branch and his Snack Pack are here to give us a ride."
"And you decided to pay me a welcome first?" asked Bastille.
Charleston smirked as she took out her cane. She spun it around before slamming the bottom of it onto the ground.
"You know the devil even has to make a first good impression," she said. "Don't you think?"
Charleston
- Swing Troll
- Markswoman, athletic
- Clumsy on her own feet
Before Bastille could answer to that, Punk was already fussing about the broken window.
"Do you have ANY idea how long I had to fix that?!" shrieked Punk, pulling on her bangs. "I have to fix about 5 windows a week!"
"That would be because of the Rock Trolls," said Charleston.
"They don't come around to ruin our stuff!"
"Then why do you dress like them?"
Punk sighed, walking away. "Forget it. I'll just…fix the window first. Need to make a good first impression after all."
Bastille raised an eyebrow, looking at Charleston. "Really? That sounded a little rude."
Charleston shrugged. "Eh. And Rock Trolls are really critical of the other Trolls, so we have to get used to it."
The Indie Alternative Troll wasn't amused. This felt a lot more serious suddenly.
"Charleston," said Bastille. "Remember what Poppy and Branch tried to instruct us?"
"I know," groaned Charleston. "But does that mean we hide our issues with others? Do you exactly forgive the Rock Trolls for what they did during the World Tour?"
"I can't exactly get over it," said Bastille. "I mean, but it is more on attitude than just words. And besides, we can't just be a huge jerk to other people. That makes you no better than what they did in the past."
Charleston rubbed her head, rubbing her cane. "OK, maybe so. I mean, I'm not like this on a regular basis. Alas, I'm just…a little nervous being around those Rock devils."
Bastille shouldn't be surprised by this. He thought that Charleston might be able to get over it. This is CHARLESTON he is talking about. But then again, she didn't let the Rock Trolls' actions in taking the lives of her parents that easy. She is so brave in keeping up her cheerful façade, but he doesn't know everything about her. He must had become so used to knowing Charleston as this drunk college student, but… [5s]
"You know," said Bastille. "You should try to give some people a chance. I mean, there will be other Trolls who are intimidating as the Rock Trolls."
"But what if I don't like it?" asked Charleston. "I can't be always around hard-partying people."
"Look, Charlie," said Bastille. "I know that it's bad, but maybe try to trust a little in these kind of bad people. Maybe those we will meet at TrollsTopia won't be so bad after all."
"As if. Some people can't really change. And even if they do, the effort might not work and I might not be able to handle it."
"You're saying that you cannot handle it? You're strong. You're smart. You know better than that. And you know that I'm right by your side since both of us are going to TrollsTopia."
Charleston sighed, a little of vulnerability appearing on her face. "L-Look, Bastille. It feels hard being around these kinds of edgy people. I mean, I'm not always used to the broody ones."
"But you stood up to a lot of them."
"That doesn't really mean I am invisible to being honest. I mean, sure, I don't really go along with Jazzy, stayed away from Queen Barb a lot and I didn't really mix in with Branch that much. But I just put up my normal expressions because I just want to make things OK. Being brave doesn't mean I feel OK all the time."
Bastille nodded. He realized she had a point. "Fair enough. Though, just for the record, I am right behind you when you need me."
Charleston blinked a few times. She wasn't sure if Bastille is willing to stick with him for her troubles. They are going to be close in TrollsTopia, but maybe it would be the right time to open up some things to Bastille. Maybe be a good friend to him. Of course, maybe not everything everything, but more on everything she need help on.
She smiled, letting her quirkiness taking over. "Thank you, Bastille."
Bastille smiled. "Yeah. Good to know."
One Indie Troll accidentally bumped into the trolley of bags. Charleston quickly stopped it from tipping over by quickly swinging around her cane and holding the side of the trolley in position. The Troll let out a 'sorry' before running away.
Charleston stared at the trolley, squinting her eyes. She expected a much heavier and larger cart of bags since there would be a lot of Indie Trolls moving to TrollsTopia. But then again, there aren't that many Indie Alternative Trolls, not even exceeding 200 as well. And the place they lived in isn't big enough for their own personal rooms. They wouldn't make the space to have their own personal furniture. The trolley looked like a pathetic cart that was meant for bringing bags over when soldiers had to go away for the war.
"Is that all of your belongings or are half of them yours?" she asked, needing to be sure.
"I only have one bag to fit in everything," said Bastille, pointing to the one covered in scratches. "I don't usually have posters in my room."
"Wow," said Charleston, a little amazed. "Your life is nearly so empty!"
Bastille blinked, now knowing that she wasn't taking things seriously. "What? My life isn't empty! It is filled with emotions I drown myself in and make me wiggle around on the floor."
"That sound interesting to hear."
"IT'S NOT LIKE THAT!" shouted Bastille. "J-Just help me get those bags to the other side of the room. In this…crowded room…safely."
Charleston turned her head to see the ongoing chaos going on. She looked up to see one Troll hanging upside from a chandelier. He was hitting his pecs, chanting like a monkey. He was swinging around, trying to sound scary. He just sounded like a retard before he crashed onto the floor.
She looked at another spot, seeing two Indie Trolls staring at her back.
"Dude," said one of them, a purple female troll. "What's she looking at?"
"Probably your dumb hat," teased the other troll, a male grey, as he slapped the female troll's bucket hat off.
This didn't please the female troll as she pounced over the male troll and began to throttle him.
Charleston smiled. There is nothing more exciting than in a place where people are murdering each other. How perfect.
"OK then," she said.
As she said that, she grabbed her cane together with two hands, like a baseball bat. She got behind and swung with all her might, hitting the trolley in the back.
WHAM!
Because it is on wheels, it went rolling quickly through the crowd. Bastille screamed, thinking that it might hit somebody. However, to his surprise, the trolley just made its way through as some Trolls quickly got out of the way for it to pass…OK, it crashed into a large pile of paint cans where one Troll was standing onto. Don't worry! She is safe!
CRACK!
Well, maybe not for the guy's back she landed onto. She gasped, looking down at the poor Indie Troll. He groaned in a raspy tone with fisheyes as he laid on his stomach.
Eventually, the trolley made it to the other side and came to a stop.
CRASH!
By that, we mean that it LITERALLY came to a stop when it crashed into the wall. The trolley wobbled over before tipping over and spilling all the bags out.
Charleston's smirked, placing her hands on her hips. "You're welcome!"
Bastille growled, shaking his head. "This isn't even safely!"
"But did those bags died?"
"Well, maybe my guitar got broken in my bag!"
It was a good thing that Punk was still around, minding her business on the broken window Charleston did. Once she was finished, she went to the trolley to make sure that no personal belongings were destroyed or harm in some sort of way. She placed them back onto the trolley, placing it right next to the door.
"Phew," said Punk, wiping her forehead. "Looks like things will be nicely neat after-" [6]
The door nearly slammed in front of her face, a near inch away from her eyes. It was Branch and some members of the Snack Pack who arrived to pick up the Indie Alternative Trolls. Bastille and Charleston noticed. Satin and Chenille, Guy Diamond, Smidge and Biggie. Kind of small, but it looked like enough representatives.
"Hey, everyone!" called Branch. "Look what we got he-!"
He didn't manage to finish his sentence when a half-eaten sandwich flew over his head.
"Of course," he grumbled. "I should have expected that."
"This is chaos!" said Biggie, quickly ducking as a stream of grey paint zipped over his head.
"Everything here is nearly so bland," said Satin, looking at the grey walls. "But again, there is a lot of colors being splashed around here."
"Their clothing don't look too bad," said Chenille. "And what magnificent gold they have here!"
"It has that kind of school style," commented Smidge.
"Really?" said Guy Diamond.
"This is nearly as worse as a Rock party," said Branch.
Punk stepped out to face the Pop Trolls. She chuckled nervously.
"Sorry…" she said. "We don't have any order in here."
Charleston grabbed Bastille's hand, pulling him through the crowd. Bastille is surprised that it would be Branch picking them up. He thought it would be another of Queen Poppy's friends or a random but trustworthy Pop Troll. Branch wouldn't be always one to go to meet the other tribes. However, he have been trusting others more recently. Probably because it felt more different and diverse than Pop. Old habits die hard as Branch still struggled to communicate with other Trolls.
"Crikey," said Bastille. "Maybe we should do something to calm down this crowd."
"I'm sure that there might be a way," said Charleston. "If anything, then maybe we can grab their attention."
"I don't know what to do. I have zero ideas."
"Maybe I can go up there and then take off-"
"I have so many ideas!" said Bastille immediately. "I mean, no need for that!"
HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK!
Almost everybody had to cover their ears when a loud ear-piercing screech went off. It came from Echo, holding a foghorn. An Indie Alternative Troll with oxford blue skin, green eyes and black hair styled in a faux mohawk. He has three black circular lines around his right eye, representing a soundwave. He was wearing a white cape with golden accents, a black shirt and black jeans.
"Everyone!" said Echo. "Please calm down and gather around. We have our guests. King Branch is here."
"It's HEAD CHIEF Branch," insisted Branch.
That is when all the Indie Trolls stopped messing around or fighting each other. They quickly gathered around as a large group, nearly surrounding the Snack Pack. Some of them were still doing their paintings, but they mostly kept their eyes over their canvases. Their chattering simmered down, but it was still clear to hear what they are saying.
"OK, everyone," said Echo again. "Please calm down. Let's make our guests feel welcome here."
Branch glanced behind again, checking if his friends were alright. Biggie looked a little nervous. Satin and Chenille were looking through all the Indie Trolls, interested on their fashion. Guy Diamond was trying to put on a confident face while rubbing his fingers to make sure he doesn't go too excited. Smidge was trying to hold onto her guard in case anything goes wrong.
"Something tells me this isn't going to end well," thought Branch.
"My name is Punk," said Punk as she shook her hand with Branch. "I'm the ambassador for the Indie Alternative Trolls who are going to move to Trollstopia."
He shrugged, trying to be polite. "Nice to meet you, Punk."
"I'm surprised that you managed to create a town filled with different kinds of trolls. We've heard how much it developed over the last eight months. That way, it would be much easier for us to pick up some inspirations from the other genres quicker and easier."
"I'm guessing that you're eager to learn new music as well, do you?" asked Branch.
"Maybe. It's just that most of us lacked inspirations for DECADES. It's hard to find something that not too boring. With the Trolls back together, we got some new ingredients to try."
"Hey Branch!" shouted one of the Indie Trolls.
He looked up and saw a baby-pink-skinned female troll - with black hair and wears a striped red and white dress and a black hoodie jacket – waving her hand at her.
"Look at what I got," said the pink troll as she turned her art canvas.
Her painting shows a human-like version of Queen Poppy. While it is impressive, how she was drawn appeared more…curly and a little inappropriate.
Branch's cheeks darkened, his ears folding down as he was about to melt into the ground.
Bastille scrunched up his nose in disgust.
Charleston raised an eyebrow, flabbergasted.
"I don't know about you," whispered Guy. "But this looks EMPOWERING."
Branch let out a sheepish chuckle. If Poppy was here, she might not like it.
"OK…" said Echo with a disturbed look. "Put that away please, Charli."
The pink troll – whose name supposed to be Charli – placed the painting away.
"Hey guys!" called another Indie Troll. "Check this one out!"
All eyes were on a male troll with dull turquoise skin, violet eyes, platinum white hair, silver glitter covering both of his arms and wear a sleeveless black jacket, a white shirt and black ripped jeans.
He turned his painting around for everyone to see.
It was another painting of Poppy. At first, it looked good, but if you look higher… [6s]
…you would see that her face was replaced with a troll face.
Yep. The troll MEME face.
"Do you like it?" said the dull turquoise troll with a grin. "Just like the real thing!"
Taking that as an offence, Branch threw a rock at the Indie Troll's face.
WHAM!
"Ooooh!"
Bastille bent down, laughing without control. "Oh my goodness, Church! What's wrong with you?"
Charleston started to snicker as well.
The other Indie Alternative Trolls followed, laughing.
"Oh my goodness," said Echo, face-palming as Church was forced to take away his painting.
"Everybody, settle down!" said Branch. "We have some things we want to explain first."
The crowd went quiet. Branch nodded and turned to his companions.
"Anyway…" said Biggie. "As you already know, we're inviting you to come over to stay at our new city in Pop Forest! Just close your eyes and imagine hundreds of Trolls from each tribe living in harmony. Forming a new Troll city that celebrates the diversity of our cultures as a tribute to all of Troll-kind. A beacon of love and friendship for everyone. All of us together, different but unified. Ladies and gentlemen, we call it 'Trollstopia'!"
"It has everything you need!" claimed Smidge.
"Cupcakes for all!" said Satin.
"A great treatment to the flowers and colors!" said Biggie. "You can even get your own pet worm like me!"
He took from his back Mr. Dinkles. He held him in his palm and reached out his hand to show everybody. The worm let out a flat 'mew', barely blinking.
"And rainbows and sun-shines for everyone!" said Chenille. "So get your dancing shoes up!"
Silence.
Bastille and Charleston glanced at each other.
All the Indie Trolls stared at the Pop Trolls in somewhat disbelief or disgust. Then, a few of them began to snicker.
"Really?" hollered one of the Indie Trolls. "Rainbows and sun-shines?"
Branch sighed, remembering the most important thing. "Yeah, sorry about them. I think the main point is to celebrate our cultures. Everyone's. So, I swear it's not a 100% rainbow-drenching candy land."
When he said that last sentence, he gave a quick glare at his companions. Biggie and Guy Diamond chuckled nervously, while the girls just gave him flat and disappointed looks.
"Sorry," said Punk. "Not many trolls aren't into Pop cultures. We are an in-between of Pop and Rock, but most of us aren't close to Pop. For example, Bastille likes Pop and K-Pop, so that's why he's so easy for you."
Branch looked around to find the grey Indie Troll he knew from the World Tour. Bastille decided to stand up, lift up his sleeves and reveal his arm to show his glossy chrome and glitter stripes over his elbow.
"So it will take us a while to get used to cute things, sugar," said Punk.
Guy Diamond pouted a little. "Not that much fun, eh?"
"We have our own sense of what 'fun' is," said Echo. "You see, the Indie Trolls take great pride in our music. It is not about what it is about, but about how it sounds to us. How creative we can be on it. What things we should include in that nobody uses before. We tend to focus more on hard emotions and meaningful melodies, so we are almost like the Rock Trolls. A little bit of advice; if you want to win some of the bad ones' respect, then you have to prove that your town is capable of having those resources for them."
"Oh, we already worked hard to get the leaders of the sub-tribes to trust us," said Branch. "We are trying our best."
"We'll see how it goes," said Punk. "I guess we are all ready to go."
"That's right," said Echo, turning to the Indie Trolls. "So, everybody who is leaving to move to TrollsTopia, you may follow Branch to outside. He will give you more information and anything you need to know once outside."
The trip has finally begun. But what exactly are they going to find in TrollsTopia?
AN: That we have to find out soon! It has just begun! Can you guess what EXACTLY happened at the start?
The dialogue that explains the topic of music at the start is based on the very first episode of Meta Runner.
We have Bastille as one of the main protagonists. I would have Nathan Sharp to voice this character. He first appears in my first Trolls story, meant to be my author avatar. There have been a few changes to how his character is, turning him into the Indie Alternative Troll we all know. He is still shy, good-hearted, social-awkward and smart, but he is going to be in a new environment. He isn't going to be around with the leaders of Troll. This adds to his struggle and his new challenges to be seen.
Next we have Charleston; the ever-lasting optimistic, absent-minded Swing Troll. I would have Elsie Lovelock to voice this character. Looking back at the reviews of my story, there has been so much love and praise to Charleston. A lot of you love her while some find her annoying. I really like this character since it is fun to make her this ridiculous, energetic and cheerful character full of girl power. However, she will have her own character arc since I want to develop more on hers.
Punk is the ambassador for the Indie Alternative Trolls in TrollsTopia. She is made by King Halloween, depicted as a playful mechanic and inventor, and would be voiced by Chi-Chi (YouTuber). I decide to add in that she likes to invent and use machinery than computer and science. She seems to have a crush on Bastille...but that is not important.
Branch appears in this chapter, but I planned to have Poppy as well. I decided not to because she will have a larger scene in the next chapter that looks through her life and experiences so far. Poppy's and Branch's relationship will have its own plot in this story since I want to try otu my own version of it.
The scene where the Pop Trolls came up to pick up the Indie Trolls to TrollsTopia is actually supposed to be a bonus chapter in my first Trolls story. But that was scrapped, so I placed it right here. You will see some references of Inside Out, SMG4 and a bit from the first episode of TrollsTopia Season 1 in this chapter.
Thanks for reading this chapter! If you enjoy this story, be sure to follow or favorite this story, so you can get updates about this story. Make sure to review this chapter on what you think about this chapter. I'm OK of hearing improvements from you (please no flames). Because this is a free-form story, updates may be slow at times, so any further questions can also be asked through PM with me, but no constant asking when I am going to update.
Until next time, keep on rocking!