If pre-rain had a smell, it would be musty.
The scent hung onto the night's breath as it blew past Jim's nose. He drank it all in with one deep breath of his own. Though the rain wasn't something he normally wanted to be caught in, tonight he found the light drizzle that started to fall somewhat soothing. Heavy clouds had concealed any trace of moonlight, so Jim had been sitting on his front steps for use of the porch light. He'd made himself a hot chocolate, complete with long-expired milk and a dose of pickle juice. Sure, he could switch to his human form and enjoy a normal cup of cocoa, but he just didn't feel like it tonight. He stared into the empty street, watching nothing in particular, and just kept slowly drinking his beverage.
"Hunter?"
Jim jumped even though he recognized the voice as Angor's. When the initial surprise wore off, he looked to the side where the voice came from, giving the troll a friendly wave. "Oh, hey! Didn't see you there."
Even with his glowing eye, Angor Rot had a tendency to blend well into the darkness. He approached Jim at a slow pace, now illuminated by the porch light. "You're up late."
"Same to you." Jim chuckled, taking a drink from his mug. "You know you don't have to do the whole 'mysterious patrolling' thing every night, right?"
Angor Rot only hummed in response. Sure, he didn't have to do it, but it was something that put his mind at ease. He leaned his back against the side of the house next to Jim.
"You're having trouble sleeping again?"
"Yeah, guess so." Jim paused, continuing to stare out into the empty street, then added, "My dad texted me earlier."
At that, Angor's interest was piqued. "What for?"
Jim shrugged, taking a sip of his drink before answering. "... Just checking in, I guess."
How much he believed that intention, Angor Rot wasn't sure. Thinking back on James skulking around the Lake property without permission was still something that rubbed Angor the wrong way… "Is that okay with you? Him… 'checking in'?"
A heavy sigh came from Jim, one born from internal conflict. "I don't really know, man… I guess so?"
The inquisitive stare he was getting from Angor was a look that seemed to encourage him to go on. Like a switch had been turned, Jim went into full-on rambling mode.
"It's just weird, like… I want some kind of relationship with him - Like, not a close one, obviously - but at the same time, I just get so mad when he's around, even still… I know he came back, and that should probably count for something, but it's just so hard to look past what he did, y'know?" He made a vague gesture with one hand. "Like, what's even the endgame here? If I'm never going to fully respect him, then why should I even care so much about how I approach things right now? Heck, I've had this conversation with myself, even with mom and Strickler, so many times already and it's still messing with my head!" Jim started to realize himself getting carried away, and rubbed the back of his neck with an awkward laugh. "Man, I keep ending up using you as a dumpster for my emotional baggage, huh? I'm so sorry, dude."
"It hasn't bothered me." Angor Rot assured him. "Though I can't offer much in the way of advice…"
"Oh, that's totally okay. Even just listening has been really nice of you, so thanks for that!"
Angor Rot nodded slowly, mulling over Jim's words for a few moments, then spoke. "I'm sure you know this already, but what you're feeling is completely reasonable." Locking his eye onto Jim, he said, "In the end, you don't owe him anything after what he did."
"Yeah… It's weird, 'cause like… I do know that, but at the same time, my dumb brain still refuses to let it go." Chuckling under his breath, Jim shrugged. "Ah, well. Guess that's just typical brain bullshit for ya."
Angor Rot nodded again in agreement, turning his gaze to the empty street as well. Neither of them spoke more, just sitting with each other's company and watching the rain fall.
But their peaceful silence was soon broken by a bloodcurdling scream.
Jim's eyes shot wide open as his head whipped in the direction of the sound, right across the street. "Tobes-!"
Both trolls immediately jumped into action. Angor Rot was at Toby's house in basically two seconds. Rather than enter through the front door and take the stairs like a normal person, he got into Toby's room by basically leaping through the (luckily open) window. His knife had been drawn in one hand, a flare of purple magic enveloping the other, as he scanned the room for whatever threat may be there.
No such physical threats were present. There was only a shaking Toby, curled into an almost-fetal position on the floor, with his hands clutching his head.
Angor Rot discarded his weapon, taking a knee next to the boy. "Trollhunter?" He said, worry in his voice.
Toby didn't reply to him, just feebly shook his head. It wasn't long before Jim had gotten to the room too, having taken the stairs.
"Tobes!" He joined Angor at Toby's side, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Toby, are you okay?! What happened?"
With a small whimper, Toby couldn't bring himself to even look at Jim or Angor. "I'm sorry…" He feebly muttered. "It was just a stupid dream…"
At that, at least Angor and Jim could relax a little bit knowing that he wasn't physically hurt.
"Do you wanna talk about it…?" Jim asked, helping him to sit up properly.
"There's not much to talk about." Toby replied, rubbing his eyes. "Just Morgana shit again…"
A deep frown overtook Angor's face. The boy looked really awful, as if he hasn't gotten a proper night's rest in weeks… That, compounded with his paranoia about the Pale Lady, has been taking too much of a toll on his mental state.
Angor Rot looked to the computers on his desk, all with the footage open from those cameras, quickly putting two and two together. Annoyance began to bite at him, but he tried not to let it into his tone with what he next said. "This needs to stop, Trollhunter. You never sleep anymore." He said. "What good are you when you're like this?"
"I'm fine, I just need to keep-"
"No. Enough of this, whelp." Angor Rot said, his voice quickly becoming a snarl. "Nothing is being gained from you destroying yourself over this. You need to stop."
"But-!"
"ENOUGH, Trollhunter!"
The anger peaking in Angor Rot's voice was enough to put a stop to Toby's protesting. The boy grit his teeth in frustration, hands balling into fists, which were uncurled just as quickly. Unable to hold eye contact with Angor's disapproving glare, he looked away.
Then, he again felt Jim's hand take a gentle grip of his shoulder. "He's… He's got a point, Tobes…" Jim hesitantly agreed, though the shouting during an already-stressful situation wasn't appreciated, "Look, maybe we should just try and sleep on this for a bit, okay…? How about we go downstairs for some chamomile?"
"... Yeah.. Okay." Toby agreed, still not looking at Angor.
The two of them disappeared down the stairs, and Angor Rot was left in the empty, disheveled room, the security tapes on Toby's laptop being the only source of fuzzy noise. He narrowed his eye at the computer's screen, then scanned the entire surrounding area with one look.
"If you can hear us, witch…" Angor growled through bared fangs, "... then know that I will make you suffer for all of this."
.
.
The following morning was a sunny one. Light streamed through the windows in little beams, illuminating the sprinkles of dust in the air.
Jim was the first to wake, with a stretch and a yawn. He and Toby had fallen asleep on the mattress set up in the living room, after having watched some Gun Robot to de-stress while drinking their tea. The half-troll got up slowly and quietly, as to not disturb his still-snoring friend, and walked over to the kitchen. He picked up his phone, texting Claire a "Good morning 3" text. When he saw new messages from his father, however, he cringed, putting the phone down. Sighing under his breath, he turned to the fridge in search of something to eat.
Spotting multiple cartons of eggs, his mind defaulted to omelettes. Sure, it was a food he defaulted to a lot, but everybody liked them. Plus, it was one of the few human foods that some of the trolls could enjoy, too. (Especially if he mixed in lots of raw meat in with their portions.) So, he had at it.
By the time the meals were almost ready, Toby had woken up, meandering over to the kitchen for some water.
"Morning, Tobes!" Jim greeted him. "Feeling any better?"
Toby took a long swig from a waterbottle in the fridge, sighed, and replied, "Yeah, a bit." With a slight cringe, he looked around, not seeing Angor Rot. "... Is Angor still mad…?"
Giving him a sympathetic look, Jim assured him, "I think he was more worried than angry, Tobes…"
"I'm not angry with you."
"Oh good lord-!"
Both boys had basically jumped out of their skin, not realizing Angor was there yet again. The troll was beginning to wonder if it was really just him being elusive, or if everybody's eyesight needed checking.
He had been sitting on the stairs, partially out of the general view of the kitchen, to be fair.
Jim dampened a washcloth to wipe up some of the egg he just spilled, then got a proper look at Angor. He was carving some small piece of wood, had likely been keeping watch over the house all night, knowing him. "Uhh, morning to you, too…" Jim said with a hesitant smile. "Did you get any sleep?"
"I got enough." He answered, with a short glance thrown Toby's way. The whelp had avoided looking at him, awkwardly sipping at his waterbottle. Angor sighed under his breath, returning focus to his carving. "... I am sorry if I frightened you last night."
He didn't get a verbal response right away, nor did he fully expect one. Jim glanced between the two with a look of concern, but didn't butt in.
"... Sorry for freaking you out." Toby muttered back after some time.
Angor didn't look up from his carving at first. "You can apologize by getting more rest." Eventually, he did glance Toby's way again, voice quieter when he added, "Don't let Her keep doing this to you."
Toby didn't return the glance, just gave a small nod in response to Angor.
The troll frowned slightly, but let the topic rest for now. Hopefully, Toby's gotten the message by now…
At this point, other members of the group started to trickle into the house, so on the bright side, at least a more positive energy had followed them inside.
.
When all was said and done with breakfast and the dishes, the children had gone off to spend time together to relax, as they desperately needed it. Blinky and Aaarrrgghh had gone back to Trollmarket, and Dictatious had taken a spot in the living room to watch TV after having made himself some tea. Nancy wasn't there again today, so it was just him and Angor in the house.
Angor had been leaning against a wall near the edge of the living room, still whittling, but now with Dictatious trying to relax in the same room, he thought it better to double-check that things were still okay.
"You don't mind my staying, do you?"
"Oh, no, no." Dictatious replied, waving off the question as casually as he could. "You're fine."
One of Angor's eyebrows quirked upwards just slightly, but he didn't question it further. With the TV as background noise, he went back to carving, glancing up every now and again when something interesting would happen.
The smallest twinge of guilt had been gnawing at Dictatious for some time now regarding Angor. The other troll had been making such an extra effort to be considerate of Dictatious's comfort, and on top of that, had been keeping him company again at many opportunities, even though he didn't have to. All of this, and Dictatious had been convinced Angor wanted to kill him not that long ago. The more time spent with the assassin recently, the more ridiculous and unnecessary that whole fiasco had seemed.
Yet again, he did all he could to shove that guilt into the back of his mind.
On the television, some sort of heated confrontation was taking place. There was yelling, punching, and eventually one of the humans pulled a strange, black stick-looking thing out of his coat.
There was a loud bang. A few seconds of silence as blood started to pool in the shirt of the other human. Then, he collapsed. Angor Rot frowned, wondering if he had missed something. He glanced at Dictatious. "I don't understand. How did he die?"
Dictatious took a sip of his tea, then replied, "Sounded like a gun to me. Did it show the other human holding anything?"
"That little thing in his hand is a gun...?" From how dangerous Dictatious had made them seem in the past, it had an underwhelming physical appearance. Dictatious, on the other hand, was surprised this is the first gun scene that Angor's looked at, what with how often he'd been observing these shows.
His confusion not alleviated, Angor Rot looked at the screen again, his head tilting slightly to the side as he focused on the strange item. "But how did it kill him? It didn't even touch him..." And, as far as he knew, average humans couldn't perform magic, so that couldn't be the answer…
"It's not the gun itself that does the damage. You see, a gun is filled with smaller metal pieces - bullets, ammunition…" Dictatious explained, adding a few elaborative gestures with one hand as he explained, "... and when the trigger of the gun is pulled, it shoots the bullet at its target. So, in this instance, killing the human." He shrugged slightly. "Bullets move extremely fast, so you probably can't see the moment it makes contact. Very dangerous things."
"Hrm…" Frowning slightly, Angor Rot was quiet for a moment before asking another question. "... You said they've used these on Changelings before, right?"
"Right." Dictatious confirmed with a nod. "Takes a few more shots sometimes, since troll bodies are tougher than human ones of course, but still, very deadly."
Angor Rot hummed in thought, careful to take a mental note of this. Such information would be good to keep in mind, he was sure...
Whenever the commercials would play, Angor caught Dictatious making occasional glances out the window, his ears pricking slightly at sounds from outside.
Come to think of it, Angor wasn't actually sure when he was last out of the house.
"I was thinking of taking a walk." Angor Rot said to him out of the blue (from Dictatious's point of view, anyway). He stood up, a curious look aimed Dictatious's way. "Would you care to join me?"
Again, that feeling of guilt came back, along with a twinge of embarrassment. Dictatious's ears flattened back, his body shrinking down into his chair just the tiniest bit. "You don't have to do that, you know." He muttered, trying hard to hide the insecurity in his voice.
"If I didn't want to, I wouldn't have offered."
Angor would've thought Dictatious should know that by now… but, at the same time, he could understand the other troll's uncertainty, in a way.
After a semi-long moment of not getting a more confirmative response, Angor walked to the chair's side, picking up the Conundrum's walking stick and lightly tapping one of his arms with it. Dictatious still looked hesitant, but he accepted the offer regardless, slowly standing up and accepting the stick.
As the pair made their way outside, Angor could tell something was still bothering the smaller troll. Yet, he did seem to want an outing, so that probably wasn't the problem…
"Is something the matter?" Angor asked.
Dictatious cringed slightly, turning his head away. "... If you're doing this to try and make something up to me, you really don't have to." He said quietly. "I know my presence is bothersome-"
"It's not bothersome." Angor Rot glanced down at Dictatious, one eyebrow slightly raised. "I do like spending time with you, you know."
Dictatious's ears twitched back, surprised to hear that, and not entirely sure if he believed it.. "... Oh," was all he managed to say in response, caught off-guard by Angor's statement.
Part of Angor wondered if being so direct felt too much like overcompensating for lost time. But, again, given Dictatious's behaviour not too many days ago, Angor Rot figured it was better to be transparent.
It wasn't long after they had gotten out of the house when they ran into Merlin. Or rather, Merlin had been seeking out Angor Rot intentionally. Dictatious's ear twitched, noticing Angor sigh under his breath at the sight of him.
"Angor Rot." Merlin greeted him, though definitely not in a friendly manner. "Did you forget about our meeting toda-"
"Later, wizard." Angor Rot cut him off, not bothering to stop.
The histrionic sigh that came from Merlin in response was one that Angor had long since learned to ignore. And, luckily for him, Merlin knew better at this point than to try and push Angor around. "Very well." He reluctantly complied. "You know where to find me."
After that, Dictatious couldn't tell for sure, but Angor Rot seemed just the tiniest bit more tense. A frown pulled at the corner of Dictatious's mouth as he considered asking a possibly intrusive question… He didn't want to push his luck, especially after Angor just admitted to enjoying spending time with him (for some reason), but...
"May I… ask you something? About you and Merlin…?" Dictatious inquired, testing the waters rather than asking his question outright, as to not irritate the larger troll.
There was a small pause on Angor's part, but he ended up allowing it. "You may."
Merlin's history of manipulation combined with Angor Rot's self-sacrificial tendencies was not a safe combination. "... He's not, erm… coercing you into doing anything, is he...?"
That choice of words got a very short, quiet laugh out of Angor. "Absolutely not."
It wasn't a detailed answer by any means, but the fact that Angor Rot found that question laughable was probably a good sign, at least… Either way, Dictatious wouldn't push his luck on the topic any further. He nodded slowly. "... Good."
They wandered the streets in relative silence for the most part, no destination in mind as they wandered the town.
Angor kept watch of Dictatious out of the corner of his eye, the Conundrum seeming unfamiliarized with the path they used to walk so much. His ears perked more often at every sound, and he had to use his walking stick more often than last time to navigate for curbs.
"When was the last time you've been out?" Angor Rot asked out of curiosity.
"Oh, I don't know." He replied. "Whenever I was last out with you."
That issue of the others completely ignoring this need of Dictatious's was one Angor had put on the backburner of his brain until now. He still found it so strange, that not even Blinky would do this for him. And the children too weren't entirely guilt-free, especially after they'd been so attentive to Angor's needs this whole time…
"Do the others have some sort of problem with escorting you, or…?"
Dictatious chuckled. "I don't think the others have the same level of patience with me as you do."
"... Not even Blinky?"
At that, Dictatious outright laughed. "By Gorgus, especially not Blinky!"
While Dictatious may have found that humourous, Angor Rot frowned, confused. "I thought you two had been getting along these days."
"Oh, we are. He's my brother, we're bound to get on each other's nerves sometimes." Dictatious shrugged. "In any case, it's not like I see him enough for it to really matter either way."
That comment only got Angor to frown more. He was under the impression that they had mended at least part of their relationship from their heart-to-heart talk months back. That being said, Dictatious sounded just now as though they were more like strangers than siblings.
It dawned on Angor that, while their time together back then may have been productive, it was far more Jim's idea to make them talk than it ever was Blinky's. If anything, the norm is that Blinky ignores Dictatious almost as much as everybody else on a regular day. It was something that Angor was sure he'd noticed before, but only now was it really starting to sink in.
"... Are you ever bothered by that?"
Confused, Dictatious glanced over to him. "By what?"
"By… hrm…" Angor hesitated, searching for a way to word this that didn't sound like a jab at Dictatious himself. The Conundrum only looked more confused the longer Angor stalled (and by his hesitation in general. It wasn't a normal look on Angor.). "By being… left on your own so often?"
Dictatious paused, taking a moment to process that question and really mull it over. "Ah…" Looking away, he gave a slight shrug. "I mean, not really… I'm not particularly close with the humans, and my brother still has many… issues with me, all things considered." He chuckled quietly, though to Angor, it sounded slightly forced this time. "I've caused him - well, all of them - enough trouble as is, so it's for the better, I'm sure."
I've caused them enough trouble as is. That was an interesting choice of words, coming from him… It's not like he was wrong, but it was strange to hear him so openly admit to his own flaw. And, though Angor Rot could never fully understand why, it was really starting to bother him that nobody (except sometimes Nancy) would ever acknowledge the Conundrum. Dictatious obviously craved interaction and different environments every once in a while rather than being stuck in that house all day, and they know he can't do that on his own…
Angor Rot took a mental note to get him outside more often.
They were quiet for some time after that, just walking with no particular goal set in mind, taking in the sounds of the town.
Dictatious's ears perked when he heard some commotion across and down the street from them. It sounded like faint chanting, slowly drawing nearer. A group of people, he'd wager…
Angor Rot slowed their pace, also confused. "What are they doing…?" He wondered aloud, moreso to himself than Dictatious.
It was a small group of humans, probably no more than ten, and most of them were carrying signs of some sort. Not that Angor could read them, but…
The group was getting dirty looks from surrounding Arcadian citizens, which further confused Angor, but things became clear to both him and Dictatious once the organized group came within earshot of them.
"Put all trolls in six-foot holes! Put all trolls in six-foot holes!"
"Oh, dear." Dictatious's ears pressed back out of alarm, and he immediately pointed his vague stare away from the group. "Avoid eye contact. We should try to pass them quickly..." He advised Angor immediately, tugging on his arm just a little bit as an indication to walk faster.
The fact that even Dictatious wanted nothing to do with them, despite having egged on multiple troll-hating humans in the past, was enough of a sign to do exactly as he says.
There was the option of turning around and going back the way they came, but that would mean they'd be walking in the same direction as the protestors, thus elongating the time they spent in their line of sight. They'd be rid of each other's presence faster if they just kept going and passed each other. Hopefully.
Angor turned his head back towards the direction of their own path, but opted to keep watch of the nearby humans out of the corner of his eye, for caution's sake.
Two girls - friends of Claire's, if Angor was remembering their appearances correctly - had started confronting the group, going off about "Nobody wanting their hate speech around here", to which one of the protestors quickly shot back that "hate speech only applies to real people", something or other...
While most of the humans had preoccupied themselves with the argument started by those two girls, three of the group had broken off from the rest, muttering among themselves, glancing and pointing at Angor and Dictatious.
Then, they started to cross the street.
Angor's guard was up high, especially after what he'd just learned about guns… He mentally prepared for an altercation, and out of instinct reached for one of his sheathed knives with his free hand.
Before the humans even made it to the middle of the street, an unusual car horn sounded off behind them, and a large, colourful van sped into their path, screeching almost to a stop once it got between the two trolls and the group of approaching humans.
The driver rolled down his windows, first shouting to the three humans in the street that he would've hit had they gotten much closer. "'Ey! Jaywalking's illegal, you know!"
"Mind your own business, dude." One young woman jeered at him.
The group started to go around the van, but its driver immediately punched it in reverse to block their path yet again, all the while still keeping Angor and Dictatious out of their view. "I mean it, buckos." He snapped at them, a much darker note in his voice now. "Back off."
They must have finally taken into account the disadvantage they were at, what with the driver seeming far too comfortable using his vehicle against them, as the three humans did end up going back the way they came. Not before cursing at the driver and flipping him off, of course.
The driver watched them like a hawk, making sure they trickled back into their group, then turned his attention to the trolls, talking at them through the rolled-down passenger window.
"Y'ello again, fellas!" He greeted them, all hostility in his voice before to be replaced with a warm, open friendliness. "We really oughta stop meeting under these circumstances!"
"Oh, it's you…" Angor Rot paused, taking a moment to recall his name - he hasn't acquaintanced himself with many humans yet, so there wasn't a long list to try to extract from. "... Stuart?"
"You remembered my name! I'm touched!" Stuart chirped happily, placing a hand over his heart. He checked over his shoulder, eyeing the group of protestors for a quick moment, then returned his attention to the two trolls. "Where are you guys headed? I can give you a ride!"
Angor gave his taco truck a once-over glance, then answered, "Nowhere in particular. We're just walking."
As kind as Stuart has been to them, Angor still didn't fancy the idea of being put in an enclosed space with someone he barely knows.
Stuart nodded, seeming to catch on to their wariness, and offered instead, "Well, let me make sure you get to the next corner safe, at least."
He looked behind him to make sure no cars were behind him that he'd be blocking, then started slowly driving forward, matching the trolls' walking pace.
"Isn't this the second time now that you've done something like this for us?" Dictatious queried. "Your timing is impressive."
Chuckling, Stuart explained, "Wasn't so much about luck this time… Me an' some of the Arcadians like to keep an eye out when those sorts of people are around… Don't want anything to get ugly around here, you know?"
Frowning slightly, Dictatious cast a foggy glance at the van. "More of those people have been active in Arcadia lately?"
"Yeah, unfortunately." Stuart sighed. "Some of 'em have been travelling down here specifically just to preach anti-troll crud. Guess that's what we get for havin' the most troll-friendly reputation, eh?"
They had always had problems with some troll-haters in Arcadia, sure, but the uptick in its presence lately was enough to cause concern. Most other places had this mindset to a much higher degree, so the thought of letting even Arcadia get to that point of animosity was not a welcome one to the native citizens.
Stuart kept pace with the trolls as he drove down the street alongside them, often checking his rearview mirrors to make sure those protestors weren't changing direction to follow them. Once he made sure they got to the next turn unbothered, he waved them off. "Be safe out there, fellas! That lot seems to be heading north, so you should turn here to avoid 'em." He said, pointing down the street to their left. "And hey, feel free to drop by my store anytime!" He then gestured across the street to a building. "It's that one there, see? Perfect for all electronic needs!"
"We don't really use electronics, but… good to know?" Dictatious commented.
"Eh, well, all the same, even if you just wanna say hi, you know where to find me!"
He gave the trolls one last wave, then drove off down the other street.
"I didn't realize that anti-troll protests had even started coming up around here…" Dictatious muttered, frowning. "We'll have to be more cautious."
"That sort of thing happens often?" Angor frowned too. "What's the point?"
"Hrrm… well, I suppose it depends…" Dictatious mused, rubbing his chin. "Humans use protesting as a way of expressing all sorts of concerns… Sometimes they do it peacefully, but others…" Shaking his head, he shrugged. "Well, it depends on what's going on in the world and who's doing the protesting, really… but yes, anti-troll ones have been going on for a while now, from what I've seen in the news, just… not usually in Arcadia. Sometimes they get, ehm... violent..."
Angor Rot hummed quietly in thought. Though it was rather unfortunate, it wasn't entirely unexpected. As Stuart pointed out, it makes some sense that people with such hatred towards their species might target a town where they're most accepted.
For the rest of their walk, they decided to focus whatever other conversations they may have on less concerning topics.
.
.
As much as he didn't fully want to, Jim felt he had to cut the hangout with his friends short. He was trying to be as emotionally present as possible, especially after what just happened with Toby, but stress about his father had been gnawing away at him all day, and it drained his energy faster than usual. When he arrived back at Toby's house, it looked like he had the place to himself for now, as everyone else was gone. Part of him considered going to his own house to see Strickler and his mom, but they'd catch on that something was off with him, and Jim didn't want to put them through his whole dad-baggage wringer again. And with this headache that's been eating at him, he wasn't sure how willing he was to be around people much longer.
He'd been checking his phone every other minute, reading and re-reading the texts from his father, only getting himself more agitated.
To distract himself, he went to check Twitter and see what was new.
That turned out to be a big mistake.
His page immediately opened to a picture of Draal - fake Draal, he reminded himself - going absolutely viral. It was a blurry photo, taken no more than an hour ago, yet already with thousands of retweets. What's more concerning, it looked like there was blood on him. It was too blurry to tell how much, or what was going on at all, really.
His heart rate shot through the roof upon seeing it, anxiety ripping into him like a set of vicious claws. All too suddenly, he realized that it wasn't just anxiety, but his body rebelling against him yet again.
He tried to get to the couch before the worst of it hit him, but it all happened too fast. A burst of light overtook him as his body tried to forcibly switch forms, and Jim shouted out in pain, falling to the ground. He started yelling curses as the searing sensation had him thrashing helplessly on the ground.
"Trollhunter?"
Jim could just barely make out Angor Rot's voice approaching past the unrelenting ringing sound in his ears. He tried to pick himself back up, but a surge of lightning-like magic struck him back down with a vengeance. He snarled in pain, his efforts to stop writhing falling empty. He could feel Angor Rot pick him up off the floor, carry him over to the couch, and put him back down, staying close.
"I can get Strick-"
"I'm fine, I'm fine-" Jim winced, biting back another snarl, but he could feel the pain slowly start to fade. "J-Just give me a minute…"
Disconcerting as it may have been, Angor Rot let Jim fight this out. It probably felt like it took longer than it actually did, but eventually, finally, the waves of pain striking Jim's body had faded away altogether.
Taking a deep breath, Jim sat himself up properly with a shaky sigh. "That… never seems to get any easier…" He mumbled, annoyed.
Angor Rot's brows furrowed, then he eyed the phone Jim had been so tightly gripping in his hand.
"... Is it your father again?" He asked.
"Um… no… Well, a little bit, but not just…" Jim took another deep breath, trying to keep his cool as he looked at the picture on his phone once again with a deep frown. "I… I gotta go look into something." He said, standing up.
"Right now?" Angor asked, uncertain of that decision. "Are you sure you're up for it?"
"I'm okay, really." Jim assured him. "It was just a little hiccup, nothing too outta the ordinary…"
"And if this were to happen while in the sunlight? "
There was an underlying note of concern to Angor's voice, rhetorical as the question may have been. He himself had hardly just gotten back from his walk with Dictatious when he heard Jim's outcry, what's to say that anybody will even be around to help the next time it happens?
Well, the sunlight thing did happen once already, but Jim opted not to mention that part.
"I'm being careful, honest." Jim assured him, pulling his amulet out of his pocket to display. "This has still got that sunlight immunity gem in it, and I'm keeping it on me at all times. You don't have to worry."
Angor Rot still looked unsure. Despite that, he still gave Jim a slow nod. "Tread carefully, Trollhunter…"
"I will. Promise."
Watching him go, a slight frown pulled at Angor's mouth. The way things kept gradually compiling against the Trollhunters was reason for concern on its own, but Jim's insistence of being cautious wasn't reassuring. They almost always say that, and yet they always end up in danger anyways.
Regardless, he didn't have much choice but to take the Trollhunter at his word.
.
.
That night held the promise of another rainfall. Clouds tugged at the sky, moving through the wind like waves. What was no doubt going to be a very wet night started with a light, gentle drizzle.
Despite the weather, Strickler stayed outside, lurking on the rooftop of an all-hours gas station. He blended into the darkness well, the harsh glow of white LEDs not reaching him from this angle.
He had his eye locked on James Lake Sr., who had stopped to refill his tank.
Was it wrong to be stalking the movements of his partner's ex? Probably a little bit. But, he's done much worse things, and in his own mind, this was an excusable offense. The fleshbag was so… average. He behaved like any normal human would, and yet, suspicion still ate at Strickler just as strongly as the first day James had shown up. Whether or not he was making it up in his brain out of sheer hatred for the man, something just felt off about James.
And yet, none of the behaviours he displayed could be considered abnormal. He was so very, averagely human.
"Strickler."
At that voice, the Changeling jumped so hard that he nearly fell off the roof altogether. He took a quick moment to rebalance himself, wings flapping back into place as they recovered from the near fall he just took, and he looked to his side to see Angor Rot sitting quite casually nearby on the very same roof. At this point, he was giving Strickler a very unimpressed stare in response to the Changeling's overreaction.
"Ah… Angor… Hello." Strickler managed to sputter out, internally wondering just how long Angor had been sitting there.
Angor Rot snorted, his judgmental gaze moving down to James instead. "Seems we had the same idea."
Strickler cleared his throat of the awkwardness he suddenly felt, then followed Angor's gaze back to James. "So it would seem…"
James had been taking his time in pumping gas, pausing several times to chat with the customer on the other side of his machine. Random small talk, nothing particularly telling about him.
"How long have you been observing him?" Angor questioned.
Laughing slightly under his breath, Strickler asked back, "Do you mean just tonight, or in general?"
Angor Rot gave him a silent look. The Changeling cleared his throat nervously.
"Ah, well… I've been keeping an eye on him for a few weeks now, admittedly…" Strickler said. His brows furrowed as he frowned down at the man. "Yet, nothing significant to note has come up."
Angor Rot hummed quietly in response, picking away at his wooden carving. "Odd."
Strickler nodded in agreement, at least a little relieved that he wasn't the only one to think so. "The whole reason he's here seems to be Jim and Barbara, and yet…" Narrowing his eyes slightly, Strickler sighed. "... I suppose he hasn't done anything overly strange so far, but still…"
"He tried to see Jim again recently."
"What?" Strickler growled at even just the thought. "Young Atlas didn't mention-"
"I don't think he knew." Angor Rot finished, also narrowing his eye as they watched the man. "It didn't seem like the fleshbag gave any prior warning, as he was supposed to…" His gaze lowered in intensity, and he snorted. "Either way, Blinky already confronted him about it."
"Hrmm…"
It wasn't much longer until James got in his car to drive away. Strickler had debated following him, Angor could see it when he glanced at the Changeling's face. But they both knew he was just returning to the Inn for the night. There likely wasn't much point in following him there, too.
With nothing more in common keeping them there, things between the pair fell into an awkward silence. Strickler's eyes flicked to Angor Rot and away multiple times, as if he was considering saying something more, but couldn't find the gall. The fear Strickler had for Angor was still very apparent, even though the troll hasn't done anything violent thus far. Sighing under his breath, Angor eventually spoke.
"I know that you've changed, Strickler." He said, seemingly out of nowhere. There was still a trace of resentment that still lingered in Angor's voice, one that Strickler was surprised he hadn't heard more of over these months. "You keep acting as though I don't..."
It was impossible to not acknowledge the change. He's reminded of it every time he sees the Changeling helping his family, or standing up for Jim, or just… being a decent enough person in general. He was reminded of it every time he saw Barbara, every time he was reminded of the things she'd said.
He knew Strickler had changed for the better. Despite all that, Angor still felt as though he'd never be able to forgive him. Was that hypocritical at this point? Or understandable?
Strickler stared at Angor, quiet at first, as he watched the mental confliction play out in Angor's mind. With a hesitant voice, he eventually said, "Is there anything I can do to make things easier on you...? I… I know you'd rather not have me around at all, but-"
"It's plain to see that you care for the boy." He went on. And his mother too, of course, but that was so obvious, it felt redundant to point it out. "I may not like you, but I know you're…" He paused, even still struggling to acknowledge it out loud. "... a better person for it… I can respect that, at least." Glancing away from his carving to stare at Strickler once more, he elaborated, "The few times I see you nowadays haven't bothered me as much lately. You really don't need to keep overcompensating."
At that, Strickler had absolutely no words. He'd never expect Angor to say such things to him...
The rain started picking up, as did the wind, catching Strickler's attention.
"Erm… Well… I suppose we shouldn't be staying out in this…" Strickler mused, using it as an opportunity to spare Angor his presence. He stood up, glancing at the troll. "... Let me… Let me know if there's ever anything I can do for you." Strickler said, as a sign of good will. Clearing his throat, he also added with a hint of awkwardness, "Ahem, anything that doesn't involve fatally wounding me, that is."
"Ahh, so non-fatal wounds are acceptable, then?"
When that familiar look of concern started to wash back over Strickler's face, Angor Rot snorted, rolling his eye. "I didn't mean that seriously, Changeling..."
"... Oh. Ahaha… Of course..." Strickler replied, an air of relief replacing his concern. To be fair, that kind of... 'joking'...(?) wasn't exactly normal coming from Angor.
Surprisingly, the Changeling still turned his back to Angor as he spread out his wings. Before taking off, Strickler cast one last glance at Angor and said, "... Thank you for looking out for Jim, by the way."
Angor blinked a few times, but gave him a small nod in response. Strickler offered a very tentative smile before he flew off into the night sky, the rain seeming to fall heavier as he left.
