Shadgirl2: Sorry for the slow updates. There's a lot going on right now, and I have to go over each chapter of this before Midna Azusa finishes the final drafts for uploading.
Midna: So I'll be starting on final drafts for an easier story, one where there's a little less intensive editing work needed from Shadgirl2. It should be ready to start uploading to her account sometime next week. It's another Trolls fic, so keep an eye out for that!
Disclaimer: We don't own Trolls. United City and all trolls who live there belong to Shadgirl2.
After eating a late breakfast, Barb got dressed quickly and took her guests to a huge rave. She pulled them into a large building, saying, "Alright, boys, here we are!"
The place was dimly lit, with flashing lights everywhere. On a stage in the front of the room, a band was playing loud rock music, and those in attendance were dancing wildly. Most of the refreshments were chips, pretzels, and cheese. Several trolls who weren't dancing kept squirting cheese from a can at each other, trying to catch it in their mouths. Someone had kept the Pop guests in mind, however—there were a few sweets. Cupcakes, brownies, and cookies joined the traditional Rock Troll refreshments. There were coolers with soda cans available, as far as drinks went.
Fuzzbert and Aspen took one look at the setup and stared in awe. Fuzzbert suddenly grew super excited. This was something that actually reminded him quite strongly of home. Pop Trolls could get pretty wild at their own parties, and that cheese game was reminding him of the trolls back home who shot punch or soda into each other's mouths. The flashing lights made him think of DJ's displays, and the spread on the refreshment table had some variety. This was something he could get into. He couldn't wait to party!
"Whoa...tubular..." Aspen said, staring in awe. He was thinking along the same lines as Fuzzbert—for once, he actually felt at home in Volcano Rock City.
Over by the stage, fire shot up into the air. Apparently, this was planned because nobody seemed concerned about it. It made Fuzzbert and Aspen think of the fireworks they'd shoot off at home.
"Yeah, I know!" Barb said, sounding rather pleased with her people's presentation. "Rock Trolls throw the fiercest parties you'll ever go to!"
Fuzzbert jumped a bit, excited and tired of waiting. Like any troll (except maybe Branch), he loved a good party! He shot off to join the party, his attitude clearly conveying the message "what are we waiting for!?"
Barb laughed at this, then said to the remaining Pop Troll, "Come on, Aspen! Let's rock!" And she went to join the fun.
Aspen flashed the rock symbol with both hands and growled a bit, losing himself a bit in the fiercer atmosphere after the rock concert the day before. "Yeah!" He ran to dance with Barb, looking rather fierce.
Fuzzbert, meanwhile, was the center of attention as he rocked out with three of the Rock Trolls. He was pulling off some new moves he'd learned yesterday. Maybe the Rock Trolls weren't so bad after all.
"Yeah, man!" one said, gesturing at him with excitement. "Rock it!"
As the party wore on, Barb watched the two, she could tell they were finally settling down and coming to appreciate the Rock Troll lifestyle. They didn't look anxious anymore. (About time—she wasn't going to hurt them. How did they not get that?) Aspen grabbed someone's guitar and smashed it, roaring out, "Rock on!"
He was completely wrapped up in the party now, a common thing for Pop Trolls (not that Barb knew this—these two were her first encounter with that genre). Since the theme of this rave seemed to be fierce, Aspen adapted to it in the Pop Troll manner, turning fierce and acting like a Rock Troll.
Looks like it's working, Barb thought, pleased. These Pop Trolls are learning how awesome rock is! Maybe I can unite all the trolls when I become queen!
Fuzzbert made his way to the refreshments and tipped an entire plate of cupcakes into his mouth (assuming, of course, that he had one under all that hair). Aspen, somehow, found himself on the drums with Riff, who was definitely enjoying the development.
"Yeah! That's it, Aspen!" Riff said, nodding and sounding impressed. "I didn't know Pop Trolls could rock so well!"
Aspen just growled at him, giving him a stink eye, and kept right on drumming. Riff laughed and went back to rocking out himself.
Carol approached Barb then, two cans of cheese in hand. "Cheese spray, Princess Barb?" she asked with a lazy smile (then again, what did Carol do that wasn't lazy?).
"Don't mind if I do," Barb said, taking one of the cans. She gestured out at the Pop Trolls and said, "Look at 'em. These Pop boys aren't so bad, huh?"
"I'll say. Though I gotta admit, when they first arrived, I was kinda concerned. Ya know, since Pop Trolls aren't the best tribe and all." She squirted some cheese into her mouth.
"Yeah, I know what you mean," Barb said with a nod. "But, hey, if we have to have Pop Trolls visit, I'm glad it's these guys. Bet their queen wouldn't be nearly as open." She rolled her eyes, irritated at the thought. "Their leaders never are, you know."
"Oh, I know, right? Wonder how Delta's handlin' her?" Carol mused, squirting some more cheese into her mouth.
Barb laughed, imagining all the ways that could—and probably would—go wrong. "She's probably gotten herself arrested or started a war with the Country Trolls by now."
Given that Delta was easily offended, that wouldn't be too hard. All the Pop queen would have to do is walk in, say something simple (like "why is it so dry here?"), and Delta would probably start chomping at the bit, as the Country Trolls said.
Carol laughed wickedly, fully agreeing with that. What did she care if the Pop Trolls got into it with another tribe? They deserved it, all things considered. Besides, the idea of one leader arresting another just sounded amusing. How would that even work out, anyway?
Fuzzbert cut in, jumping between the two rather dramatically at that moment. He looked at Barb, his attitude screaming "dance with me!"
Carol stood back, grinning. Barb started dancing with a Pop Troll, both of them dancing like Hard Rockers. Fuzzbert chirped out something about the party being epic and how he never wanted to leave. His previous distress at being held here against his will was completely forgotten in the face of such an amazing party. He also happened to be a fantastic dance partner, which Barb hadn't expected.
"Yeah, I knew you'd love it!" she told him. "I'd never guess you were a Pop Troll, you rock hard!"
Fuzzbert chirped out a thanks and did some break dancing before he went back to rocking. Barb laughed, having a blast with these guys. Then she made a face to a little kid nearby, and the child made the same face right back at her.
And, at last, the Pop Trolls had converted to Rock. Well, aside from the occasional bit of break dancing.
Aw, yeah! There's no way anyone won't want to join us! Barb thought, excited about the possibilities here. If Pop Trolls can get into rock, any troll can!
The tribes had been separated for too long after what Pop had done. Barb had fantasized about reuniting them all, but she'd always thought she'd have to steal the strings and forcibly convert them. Now, however, she thought she could convince everyone to reunite under Rock. Pop Trolls were the music-destroying, different genre-haters; so, if they could learn to love rock, it seemed possible that everyone could.
As the rave continued, with Princess Barb of the Hard Rock Trolls dancing with Fuzzbert and Aspen Heights of the Pop Trolls, she didn't even realize that, every now and then, one of the two did a move that was close to the styles preferred by the Pop Trolls. Even worse, she didn't realize that she was mimicking these Pop Troll dance moves.
Neither Rock nor Pop was changing genres—they were merging.
Back in United City, Smidge paced her cell, trying to figure out what to do—or what was even going on here.
"Oh my ga, oh my ga, oh my ga. How did that happen? I've got a date with the general of United City? But I'm not even interested!" She banged her head against the wall a few times, frustrated.
Also, what kind of moron asked a prisoner out on a date in the first place?
A new soldier, a light green troll with yellow hair, came over, saying, "I'm here to relieve you."
"Yes, sir," said the current guard as he saluted. Then he left.
Great. A shift change. They were getting closer to that date she hadn't agreed to go on yet was, apparently, going to have anyway. And just what was she supposed to do to get ready for it!? She didn't have anything nice to wear, and there wasn't much she could do with her hair or makeup from inside of a jail cell. She was going to be horribly under-dressed, regardless of where they went! Even worse, nobody seemed to care.
The new guard looked at Smidge, his expression saying the same as everyone else's had all day: He thought she was guilty, too. "So! I hear you've got a date with the general!" the guard said.
"Don't look at me!" Smidge said, slapping her hands over her heart in exasperation. "I didn't agree to that! But the general insisted on it and wouldn't take 'no' for an answer!" She threw her arms up in the air.
The guard smiled, looking amused. "Yeah, no surprise there. General Storm doesn't know the meaning of the word 'ask'."
Was this a common problem? Did the general frequently tell girls they were going to go out with him? Or did he just think that asking someone out came with an immediate yes? It wouldn't surprise her if he did—his social skills left quite a bit to be desired. That is, unless yelling at the top of your lungs everywhere you went was considered socially acceptable. Also, was it Smidge's imagination, or was this guy acting like he knew the general on a more personal basis?
Smidge crossed her arms and humphed. "I'll say!" Grumbling in annoyance, she continued, "Couldn't have bothered with even giving me a polite 'please' or 'thank you', the son of a troll. And Poppy thought Branch was bad."
The guard laughed a bit. "Sounds about right for the general."
Yep, this guy definitely knew the general outside of work. Were they friends? How could a troll who never did anything but work have friends?
"But, uh, speaking of, why doesn't anyone around here ever stop working?" Smidge asked, now looking at him with concern. "Don't you guys know you'll run yourselves ragged if all you do is work?"
The amusement quickly left the guard's face as his expression hardened. "We're not lowering our guard for anything," he answered firmly. "The last time we did, the Party Crashers ruined our society."
Smidge threw her hands forward, reaching through the bars, now a bit more concerned. How could anyone work this hard and still be able to think straight? Talk about a recipe for burnout!
"But that's not good for you, either! If you never take some time to relax and unwind, then you may be too tired or overwhelmed if anything like that happens again! Then you'll make a ton of mistakes and lose the battle because of that!"
"We operate in shifts. Nobody's on duty 24/7."
Smidge smacked herself in the forehead, annoyed. Did he seriously think that sleep was what she meant?
"Oh, my ga." She looked back at him and said, "That's not what I meant!" She gestured through the bars as she continued, "Sure, sleep is good for you, but it don't work so great if you're too stressed to relax and enjoy it!"
Just then, a purple troll in green overalls popped up between the two from below, looking concerned. "That's right, Smidge! Trolls need to relax their minds once in a while if they want to be prepared for the next day!" She smiled suddenly and threw her arms out to the sides. "That's where fun comes in! You need a more balanced—"
"I'm sorry," Smidge cut her off, looking lost.
Legsly was beginning to get used to this look from her friends, and she didn't like it.
"Who are you, and where'd you come from? You don't look like a Pop Troll from United City."
The guard knew full well she wasn't—everybody in town knew everyone else. It made it easy to identify impostors. He looked at the interloper with suspicion, preparing himself for battle by raising his paintball gun. "Identify yourself, intruder!"
The purple troll jumped, startled, and threw her hands up in front of her in a gesture of harmlessness. "H-h-hey! Chill out, boy! I-I'm not a troublemaker! I came here with Smidge! And my name's Legsly! See, Smidge and I—"
Smidge waved her hands in the air to stop her, saying, "Whoa, whoa! Hold up! I didn't bring anyone along! I came here alone!"
Who was this girl, and were all the trolls around here crazy? First, the president accused her of stealing and trespassing when she hadn't even been inside, then the general forced her into a date, and now this troll claimed she knew her and came with her? What the hair was wrong with this place!?
"That's right!" the guard agreed. "We only locked up one no-good troublemaker, not two!"
Legsly threw her arms up, exasperated. Why did absolutely none of her friends remember her!? This was getting out of hand. "Aw, come on! Give me a break, you guys! How can it be that none of you remembers me!? We had that pillow fight a few months back! Remember? Branch, Cooper, and I fought against you, Poppy, and Guy? Hello?"
Smidge blinked, staring at this troll with wide eyes. She'd never seen this troll in her life. "Uh...wasn't that DJ Suki, Cooper, and Branch? I could've sworn it was just us." She scratched her head, lost.
Had there been another troll involved in that initial pillow fight? It had seemed like an even number to her.
Legsly threw her head back, groaning in exasperation. She was about ready to stop trying to get her friends to recognize her. "Urgh! I am so sick of being mistaken for this 'DJ Suki' character!" She put her hands on her hips, annoyed, and asked, "Who is she, anyway? And why does everyone think she took my place?" She decided to brush this aside for the moment—forgotten or not, she had a friend to help. She waved a hand dismissively and continued, "Aw, well. Anyway, as I was saying, you can still have fun and be safe at the same time!" Her excitement returned, she hopped a bit, arms over her head. "There is such a thing as 'safe fun,' you know."
Smidge gasped, eyes widening in realization. "Oh, my ga! I forgot about that!"
Safe fun was such a new concept that it was easy to forget—it had been their last-ditch effort to get Branch to be friends with them again after they'd all accidentally upset him and left him thinking they weren't his friends. It had worked out so well that Branch and Poppy had made a few more effective changes since then, like setting up traffic lights in flyer bug crossings and laying out some clearly marked flight paths. They'd even established some rules involving air-based games, like a flying game of Red Light, Green Light. The traffic guards would monitor different "lanes" that trolls could switch into at any time, but the trolls in any given lane had to freeze when the controller for their lane called out "red light." This let other trolls pass, preventing accidents while leaving the trolls thinking it was just a fun (albeit slightly complex) game.
Now reminded of this, Smidge looked toward the troll and started, "Thanks, Legs—"
She cut off, seeing nobody there. The guard was just as surprised as Smidge—all he did was blink, and the new girl was gone.
"W-where did she go?" he asked, looking around. "Who was that?"
"Uh..." Smidge looked around a bit, then she sweat. She looked slightly disturbed. "I don't have a clue. But she was really weird."
It was hard to be weirder than someone who popped in out of nowhere, acted like she knew you, and then vanished without a trace.
Was that what I think it was? Did she use magic to make herself disappear when we weren't looking or something? Smidge wondered, feeling a bit disturbed now.
The guard just stared, wondering how many other intruders could get inside their city without them noticing and vanish just as quickly.
"...Well, whatever," Smidge finally said, shaking her head to clear it. "She's got a point, anyhow. You gotta balance fun and work, or you'll all go insane!" She looked slightly smug, waving a finger at him, then crossed her arms with a proud grin as she added, "And luckily for you, I happen to know an expert in this thing called 'safe fun.' So I'd be happy to teach ya how."
"'Safe fun,' huh?" the guard asked. "Sounds interesting..."
Smidge clapped her hands, a nasty look on her face all of a sudden. She rubbed her hands together, the same look still there, and said, "Oh, it is. First, you've gotta..."
And so Smidge started telling this guard all about the solutions Poppy and Branch had come up with to try to make fun things safer.