An: Though I will enjoy this, I do write with a bit of a heavy heart. This began as a DND campaign between my fiance, myself, and someone I came to call my big brother. With circumstances in life making the game no longer possible, this was all we could think to do. So I will do this now, instead of presiding over the table. To my two former players, I wish you the best of luck taking down the empire. And damn it, Dragon...don't become a stranger, alright? Warnings: Contains intense, violent language and overarching themes. NOT FOR CHILDREN.
Dragon glanced at the time again and thought to himself how ridiculous this all was. In order to go out on the town with his moirail, he had to first spend hours doing his make-up in order not to be murdered on sight. And I'm tired of it. He stopped mid-stroke and looked over the face in the mirror. One on side, there was a carefully painted indigo ear-fin poking out from the side of his gray face. The edges of the gill flaps had been a bitch, as always. But he had to get anywhere the gray skin gave away to reveal his truth. It wasn't yet time to debut his actual self. The other half of his face showed what he was hiding, what he had been hiding since he lost his grub legs and gained more bodily autonomy.
The sea dweller on the other half of Dragon's face was fuschia blooded, a fact that made Dragon one of only two on all of Alternia. The other being the tyrant on her coral throne, perpetuating an endless cycle of violence, bloodshed and brutal death. She had seen to it that she remained the only one of her blood caste except...She would seem to have slipped up along the line somewhere. Dragon's lips curved up in a wicked and sharp-toothed grin. It will be what kills her.
x
Dragon was ensuring that his lusus had food in case he couldn't make it back any time soon when there was a knock at the door. He snapped the edges of his fancy cape, adjusted his tie as it attempted to strangle him, and went to answer. He then proceeded to relax when he saw it was his moirail. "Roslia." Dragon flicked his eyes to her left and hoped his contacts stayed in place as he did so. "Who's your buddy?" The purple blood with her kept his gaze downcast, vibrating with a quiet anger as he did so.
"A new face for the war front." She said grimly, glancing at the other troll with her own purple eyes. "He had a human wife."
Dragon gave the other troll another once-over. Had. He didn't need to be told what that meant. "Come in. I'm still setting Goatdad up with his food subscription service. I don't anticipate this being over very quickly."
He gestured to the couch where Roslia and the very angry man sat down. Dragon finished checking on Goatdad, looking over his lusus and feeling grateful again to have been chosen and raised rather than be murdered by the empress' drones. The large, solid white figure was munching on the massive salad Dragon had put together for him, his long fish tail swishing as the top half dragged itself by it's hooves.
"Alright." Dragon turned to his moirail and her guest. "Introductions are in order, I believe."
x
Gimlet Makara listened to the other two talking about him for a few minutes before he swallowed the rage gripping his throat enough to speak for himself. "Roslia and I go to the same church." He met Dragon's violet-eyes at this and was a little caught off guard by something in the shade of them. Is that right? He turned his head away, not wishing to dwell on it when the head of the violet caste was responsible for the death of his Daisy and their little Clover. "I want to kill the bitch." He said quietly, shocked at how calmly this was coming out.
"Is that all?" Roslia asked, looking a little worried about her decision to let him in. "Because when you announced at church that you were enacting our faith's tenets to legally pursue death for your matepsrite's killing, it seemed to me like you already had a plan."
"Chill, motherfucker." Gimlet snapped, just a little. "And consider for a moment how much I had to have loved Daisy to name her my matepsrite, even in the eyes of the church." He paused and then very strongly and determinedly said his next bit. "I would invoke anything at motherfuckin' all to get the blood spilled that I want."
"Anything?" Roslia questioned him.
Gimlet glanced at her. "I said fuckin' anything didn't I?" He grinned a sharp, wide smile smeared with the type of danger only a high blood could project. "You're going to tell me where the rebellion is, aren't you? It's why you brought me out here, to the house of the only other living fuschia blood I've ever seen."
Dragon didn't look surprised Gimlet had figured it out. So he continued. "I am fine joining the rebellion if it will help me avenge Daisy and keep that fish-faced bitch from taking anyone else's mate." Er I guess that's a little..."No offense." He flicked his eyes at Dragon. "I just hate her so much."
The fuschia blood who remained unsurprised at Gimlet smiled at him and Gimlet had to fight a wave of revulsion deep down inside him at the sight of what looked like a smiling violet-blood. "Well, welcome to our group then. We're trying to find the resistance ourselves."
"About that." Gimlet turned to look at Roslia. "I found some things out through a friend of mine and she agreed to meet and go over details. Skylla wants to see us on her ranch at the edge of town. A few hours before sun-up. You two should get ready. I have to close up some loose ends at the church." Roslia turned toward the door, glancing over her shoulder at them both. "And Gimlet, please control yourself a little better than you did at mass. You'll give our hand away before Dragon is ready."
She shut the door with a heavy thump, leaving the two men in a silence punctuated only by loud munching in the kitchen. "Well..." Said Gimlet. "What's your story? 'cause I'm going kill that motherfucker and skull-fuck her when I'm done."