Otto couldn't help but smile at the sound of screaming.
It was his favorite sound to grace his changeling ears - currently in the form of squeaky teenage agony, pure and true.
Otto Scarbaach turned his head at the high pitched shriek from his front lawn, floppy tan sunhat moving with the tilt of his head. It was a shame that out of all his abilities, he wasn't able to see the neighboring boys through the security fence, soaked to bone and rushing out of range of the sudden sprinklers sprouting up from the sprinklers.
Now he knew the time. A little past 10. His morning sprinklers were never late to water the grass, among other things.
A small chuckle escaped his lips and he raised his glass, sipping his choice drink for Saturday - lemonade and brandy on ice served in a colorful, warped glass. Otto licked his lips and savored the taste, proudly flexing his right hand at the lingering phantom sensation of his latest sucker punch.
It was dangerous, yes, stupid, he knew.
But, Otto Scaarbach would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy it.
Otto stopped clenching his hand, observing his shaped nails.
He could still feel it, the throbbing, electric power of the punch against Draal's, big, fat nose.
Admittedly, Otto mused, it was a bit unfair. The troll had been graciously buzzed, no doubt drinking to buffer the grief over his late father. A pathetic excuse for a fight. It had been satisfying, all the same.
He took another sip.
Otto and Draal had shared a few tense breaths of staring at each other, troll to fleshbag, fleshbag to troll, before Otto felt a few of Blinky's arms circle around his shoulders in an attempt to lead him away from the scene.
He didn't resist. The whispers and protests from the surrounding crowds of Trollmarket's residences grew as Otto turned his back; AAARRRGGHH! intercepted a stray metal can from hitting them as they left.
There was scolding, of course, and an ear-pulling experience by Blinky, asking if the man had any clue on what he had caused. Otto shot harsh glares and frowns but, offered no answer nor explanation, falling back in line between Blinky and AAARRRGGHH! as they walked again .
The tour was undoubtedly over, the pair of trolls accompanying Otto back home to the surface. Promising to return in a few days to start training, Blinky folded his hands, asking if Otto would so kindly try to make a better impression on his second visit to Trollmarket.
Otto Scarbaach, fishing for his key, promised not to make promises and curtly slammed the door in Blinky and AAARRRGGHH!'s face, rolling his eyes at their still merry wish of a "A good rest of the night!" behind the thin wooden door.
Calling in sick at Arcadia Oaks High at the sight of the next morning sun, the changeling took a cup of heavily sugared coffee to his blood system and an x-acto knife to the unpacked boxes. He shelved his books, folded his clothes, and spent the morning trying to assemble some semblance of a home.
It wasn't until the grandfather clock in his foyer announced it was past 10 did he look over his options of lunch. Half a loaf of bread, packing peanuts, and cardboard was all that was present in his home and, after tasting the bitter styrofoam, decided to give the local market a visit to fill his refrigerator with a few human groceries.
The locally owned supermarket was a small aging building in Arcadia's downtown. The parking lot nearly empty when he pulled up in his rattling station wagon, cutting off the ignition in a cough and sputter. Otto wasted no time in grabbing a cart and beelining for the produce, tossing a few granny smith apples, a new loaf of bread, a chunk of fresh cheese, and a carton of milk or two into his cart. When comparing the price of decent sardines, he could've sworn he saw the form of Strickler walk past the exposed asile, the quick flash of brown suit nearly causing him to drop the can in his hands. He leaned forward and looked around, the man that passed nowhere to be seen.
Cursing, Otto threw both cans into his basket and swiped the entire shelf of Captain's Select sardines into his cart, beelining toward the check out, the dozens of tin cans traveling up the belt to be swiped by the acne riddled teen waiting at the register, smacking their strawberry scented gum.
The rest of his Friday was rather uneventful, Otto unpacking groceries and eating a can of olive oil sardines whole to finish up his move.
It was Saturday now, the worn, grizzle-faced man choosing to spend his morning lounging under the bright, blaring sun. Otto Scarbaach adjusted his seat in the inflatable kiddie pool he'd found in the basement when cleaning the day before, dark blue swimming trunks, floppy sun hat, and prescription sunglasses to match. The water splashed a bit over his exposed chubby stomach, a damp hand resting over his gut.
Warm sun. Good drink. Lingering satisfaction.
Nothing could ruin his Saturday.
Otto Scarbaach listened to the familiar squeak of the back gate opening.
He tilted his head, blinking slowly.
Typical.
A tall, slender figure moved in the corner of his vision, a flash of purple stomping towards him. He raised a hand to clear his vision and smiled, golden tooth shining in the sun.
Zelda Nomura, his youngest nestmate, had changed.
She was an adult when they had parted ways, sure. But her hair had lengthened, almost reaching her wiry shoulders. Her green eyes had gotten sharper, more alert. The only thing that hadn't changed was all the purple. The color had and always would be a part of Nomura. It was her favorite, after all.
He didn't blame her. It was a nice color.
"Nomura!" Otto called, lifting his head as his ice clinked in his glass, "My dear nestmate!"
The woman stood over his reclining form and pressed her hands on her hips.
"Where have you been?"
"Germany."
"No." Nomura hissed as she waved her hand, eyebrows creasing, " Where have you been? You were supposed to be at the museum an hour ago."
Otto's smile deflated a bit, a look of disapproval crossing his face.
"Not that I recall," Otto hummed low, setting down his drink. "It's my day off."
The changeling ignored his nestmate's audible huff as he pulled himself slowly to his feet, water in the pool sloshing noisily as he did.
He looked around for towel to make himself a bit more decent, spinning with his eyes scouring the nearby ground.
Otto heard a small noise of surprise from behind when he turned around, and he froze with a start, hand hovering over the lawn chair. A shiver traced his spine, a sudden wind chilling the skin of his exposed back.
Right.
He had nearly forgot.
Blinking rapidly, Otto Scarbaach resisted the sudden urge to reach for the indention in his shoulder, eyes finding and hands snatching the folded tee waiting in the aging green lawn chair nearby.
He quickly pulled the shirt over his head, the lavender fabric sticking uncomfortably to his damp skin. Seeing himself fit, Otto turned back to face his waiting nestmate and crossed his arms over the front of his shirt, halfway covering the worn " Arcadia Mole Maniac " printed on the front.
Despite what he heard, Nomura's stoic expression remained consistent, matching Otto's stance with a flick of her dark hair.
"What are you talking about, Otto?" She continued, lips pressed together in a frown, "You were a no show Thursday. Where have you been?"
"Sick." He muttered, coughing lightly to the side, "Caught a bug."
Nomura's green eyes widened, eyebrows raising.
"Are you kidding me? I went by your house that night. You weren't there."
"You...?" Otto trailed, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end, "You came in my house?"
After a moment of silence, his eyes narrowed, jaw growing tense as he uncrossed his arms.
"Why?"
"I was worried about you!" Nomura shot back, throwing her arms down, "I came to check on you and found you gone!"
"That doesn't give you an invitation to walk in, unannounced!"
"Being sick doesn't give you a green-light to walk away from your duties, unannounced!"
In one fluid motion, Otto snatched the glass from the ground, tossing it with an audible snarl. Nomura sidestepped out of Otto's line of fire, the drink smashing against the wall with a booming thud. She stared at the trailing drink, bits of shard and spiked lemonade sliding down the wooden fence, before turning back, nostrils flaring.
"You missed your duties, Otto." She finally said, voice low and even, "I need you to come with me."
Breathing heavily, Otto took a hand to his disheveled hair in an attempt to recollect himself. They stood in a lengthy silence, observing the damage, the yellow pool, and then back to each other.
The changeling gave a small, sly grin.
"You can't make me go anywhere."
With a sharp cry and impact to his ribs, Otto Scarbaach felt the bright green grass of his backyard leave from underneath his feet, a scream escaping his mouth as he fell backwards. Gasping for air at the impact, Otto struggled with the nails clawing at his shoulders, the polished digits digging into his exposed skin. With a shove and roll, he pushed himself back up, his smaller nestmate not wasting time to leap and wrap her arms across his neck, clinging and clawing at his face in quick succession. He didn't bite back any curse, spewing insults and spitting mad as he attempted to reach back to pry her off his back, spinning and knocking over the lawn chair in the process.
Otto never made it back to the step. Nomura managed to force him to the ground, grasp his ankle with both hands, and began to drag her nestmate towards the yawning gate. Otto Scarbaach didn't go quietly, uselessly struggling against the nails that now dug into his kicking heel, trunks and tee snagged by the rocks and twigs scattered wildly about the yard. Nomura kicked the gate open, dragging her hefty loads towards her waiting car parked right behind Otto's aged station wagon. They marched through the labyrinth of spraying sprinklers, the woman deaf to Otto's new spew of curses as the back of his head smacked roughly against them.
Jerking the cars door open, Otto Scaarbach was tossed unceremoniously into the back seat, arms and legs landing askimbo against the pleather. Cheek pressed against the glass, Otto managed to open one of his eyes to spot the familiar faces of Jim and Toby across the street, still soaked to the bone.
"Jim?" Otto heard the muffled voice of Toby ask, the boy staring after the car as the front door slammed and it rumbled to life, "Should we call the police?"
The pair had survived this day thus far.
Nomura wasted no time.
She headed straight for Arcadias downtown district, the wide sidewalks occupied by the scattered fleshbags on their morning errands. He watched a pair of children talking with their mother, a college-aged jogger, a young woman walking with an iguana on her shoulder for Gunmar's Sake. Otto blinked when Nomura took a sharp turn into Joe's Coffee drive-thru, his nestmate quick to roll up the car window as Otto shouted for the barista to call the police after she placed her order. Slow, turning glares and coffee and pastries was enough to bribe him into silence, Nomura shoving the two items into his small hands.
Nomura had been kind enough to roll down the windows at her next stop the the supermarket, the woman offering a "You'll see..." at the purpose of yet another stop.
When reaching their final destination, they got out climbed the stairs side by side, eyes unwavering from the museum's opening ahead.
Otto Scaarbach passed a few of the patrons exiting and sitting on the front steps, their gazes locked on him as they entered.
He couldn't hide the faint shade of beet rising in his cheeks.
When Nomura exited the market, she reasoned wet swim trunks and a tee shirt was no proper attire going into a museum.
Luckily, discount Christmas pajama pants, house slippers, and a dry, oversized tee was.
Otto tried to make the outfit work, the black sequined eyes of the jolly Saint Nicks reflecting off of every light over head. He tugged at the loose ends of his tee, shifting his eyes behind the dark sunglasses still perched on his nose.
His company couldn't help but smirk, just a little.
"You're different than I remember, Otto." She commented teasingly. "You've gotten older."
"Ja." Otto murmured, stiffening his back, "and fatter. I could be Santa."
They climbed another flight of steps in the front foyer, leading to the upper part of the museum and down one of its long hallways. The pair approached a door taped off for cleaning and restoration, but the changeling that worked there moved past it, pushing open the heavy door with her manicured hand.
Natural light spilled into the latest addition to the museum, whatever construction had been there already complete and cleaned up. Between the open doorways leading into new, windowless sections, ancient pottery of different forms lined up the walls, Nomura's eyes lighting up at her beloved collection displayed in their new cases.
Otto rolled his eyes at the sight, perriwinkle slippers slipping momentarily on the marble floor.
"Please tell me," he murmured, hand reaching for his temple, "You didn't want to bring me all this way to talk about your newest vases."
"No." Nomura retorted, heels clicking against the floor, "And they're not just vases ."
"What is it then?" Otto asked abruptly, coming to a halt in the middle of the hallway, "What is so important that you had to-?"
"Kanjigar's dead."
The words hit him harder than it should have.
He knew, Otto knew he already knew. Kanjigar was dead. He had seen the pieces. Touched them.
It felt surreal, hearing it come from someone else.
Otto's lips parted, a wordless question leaving his mouth.
"We found him two nights ago." Nomura answered, "Underneath the downtown bridge."
"The Amulet, has it -?."
"Missing," Nomura sighed, rolling her eyes, "But, we don't know if it has claimed the next Trollhunter … yet."
Otto's mouth was suddenly dry. He bit back the redness from returning to his cheeks, stretching his mouth into a grin.
"Better to build for a while, with the last Trollhunter out of the way."
"Agreed ."
Otto's small grin fell.
He looked quizzically at Nomura, the answer too deep and dark to be her own. Staring, it took a few moments to realize her gaze was no longer focused on his face, but, instead, somewhere over his right shoulder.
Otto slowly turned, blinking into the opening behind them.
A large, bulking mass stood in the doorway, the sound of metal against flint ringing out in the tall, open space. The sparks of the sharpening weapon illuminated the squarish, bullish face of the body's owner, with a pale scraggletooth grin to match.
Otto observed the towering figure behind his sunglasses, unwavering, before bowing at the waist in his recognized presence.
"Mein Prinz. " Otto whispered, "What an honor it is to see you again."
The troll offered no response, head tilting at the display. A rumbling noise sounded from deep from within his throat and he looked past Otto, unconcerned.
"Impure," he addressed Nomura, curt, "Leave us."
She looked momentarily taken aback, long eyelashes fluttering at the request. The changeling was quick to recover and she managed to nod a silent goodbye to Otto and her waiting Dark Champion. The rapid sound of her shoes followed her across the tiled floor, her exit announced by the heavy thud of the double door.
The two that remained were trapped in an unnatural stiffness, the continued scraping of flint against metal the only sound breaking the still silence between them. Otto straightened his stance, hands folding carefully behind his back as he waited, upright and at attention.
Bular tilted his head, sending a spray of sparks in the changelings direction.
"Glad you could join us."
"I am pleased as well, Mien Prinz ."
The brute observed Otto from afar, pausing in his task to observe himself in the blades' reflection, amber eyes glowing in the dimness of the doorway.
"Are you?"
There was flash of flickering silver and Otto's eyes widened, feeling something hard pressing against his neck.
The blade Bular held against his jugular was sharp as it was cold, steel digging into the exposed fleshling skin. Otto resisted the burning urge to pull up and away. A bead of sweat rushed down the back of his neck. His mouth parted in a trembling gulp of air.
"M-Mien Prinz… "
The oversized troll pressed the sword against his neck harder, threatening to break the skin.
"You were not present last night." Bular growled, tilting his head, " Why ?"
"Ill, your H-Highness." Otto managed to sputter, eyes gazing towards the flooding skylight overhead, "C-Caught sick that night."
A growl sounded from beneath Bulars wide, exposed chest, vibrating the air around them.
"Your excuses are weak, Impure."
He lowered his weapon, releasing the pressure from Otto's neck.
"Let us hope not to see the blood that spills at another one of the sort."
Otto's quickly covered his expression of visible relief with another bow, the air he'd been holding released in a soft sigh.
"O-Of course, Mien Prinz. "
Sweat tracing the crease of his brow, Otto Scaarbach held the reverence for another beat before slowly rising back up, straightening his back.
Bular was smiling now, a gruesome grin stretching across his features. The troll sidestepped and shifted his gaze to the familiar wooden crates stacked in the far corner of the room, shadows from the windowless exhibit filtering over them.
"Soon my father will know freedom," Bular breathed, "and glory."
At the word "glory", Otto's spare hand slipped into his pants pocket.
The cool metal hummed under his touch, the electric sensation traveling quickly up his arm. He blocked the rays of blue sunlight from escaping with his palm, the dials rotating in time with his heart.
Otto Scaarbach could only swallow thickly, clenching the Amulet in a tight, trembling fist.
"Soon he shall…"
Special Thanks to Unstoppable Cyborg for being my beta this chapter!