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raitrolling · 14 days

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ok now i have Brain Power (AAAAE-A-E-I-E-A-) again i can go back to my thoughts on how my ocs would play Cosy Games cuz i always think its funny how people always assign characters who are Nice People as being solely animal crossing or minecraft or stardew players and its always like 'they have really pretty towns and are nice to all the NPCS uwu'

katrin is one of those people who maybe plays for hours one day but then never picks up the game again. shit like animal crossing is too daunting for her because you put down that game for a week and your town is full of weeds and the animals ask where youve been and it is just Too Scary to return to and face your failures

nancor likes to aimlessly wander around in his games and is prone to getting lost. you check your minecraft server logs and you just see him getting mauled by various mobs. hes having fun tho, dont worry about it

ashe is a Sidequest Guy, always doing all the little jobs for npcs because he likes to be helpful :) he agonises for ages over what gifts to give his animal crossing villagers when he sends them mail because he wants to make sure they like it, he needs a Good Grade In Friendships ok. he would also get up to a point in a stardew or harvest moon game where an npc asks to marry him and then he immediately checks with cheran if its okay for him to say yes or if he should turn them down LMFAO

velour is looking up tutorials for how to design the prettiest minecraft houses ever, and trying to make sure his stardew farms are the most Aesthetic ever. catch him awake at like 5am having spent all night redesigning his entire animal crossing island because he's going to livestream a tour for his YouTube channel and it needs to be Perfect

mikiel could care less about video games, and is doing the bare minimum in any game he'd touch. most likely the guy who does all the combat quests in Minecraft like fighting the ender dragon or the wither so other people he's playing with can get all the items

lucy is a Task Guy, and is dutifully doing every single daily chore in the game as well as trying to finish any quests as quickly as possible to not keep any NPCs waiting. loves fishing minigames, and completed his fishing + bug catching sections in the animal crossing museum within like a week after he learned how to time travel

viltau is a Spreadsheet Guy aiming for 100% completion and get the absolute most out of any game he'd touch, but he is also an Aesthetics Guy prone to completely renovating his animal crossing worlds / farming sim farms on a whim because he's gotten bored of how they look. he is just like velour being awake at ungodly hours trying to redo his island, but rather than doing it for fan approval hes just generally Deranged

glas just likes to fuck around and doesn't care about having any long-term goals in their games, and generally just designs shit to weird out any of their friends who visit their animal crossing island or minecraft server. why is there a corner of their island full of dolls? why do they have big meme murals in the nether? why is their cow named 'daddy milkies'? don't worry about it

vallis gets obsessed with any sort of animal raising or breeding mechanic and tends to forget about everything else. yeah his island is full of weeds and he still hasn't paid off any debts, but check out his rows upon rows of perfect hybrid flowers he's been crossbreeding

#ooc #katrin rissah #nancor pharom #ashell bathre #velour #mikiel giacho #lusien avalon #viltau espino #glasya elliss #vallis reyleh

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raitrolling · 1 month

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=> Approximately one day after...

=> The tide laps at your shins as you wade out into the water, shoes and socks abandoned on the shore and your pant legs rolled up as far as they can go. It's cold, but that is to be expected at this time of sweep, and you felt that being here was necessary.

=> Calling out to The Reverberation from the pier had been a fruitless endeavour, as it did not respond after your first investigation. You wonder if that had anything to do with what else you had discovered.

=> Not too far away from the beach, marked with stones and a piece a wood decorated with dragonflies, lay the body of a construct you had called a friend. Arty was no resident of Vernrot Harbour, but you had still given it a traditional burial, leaving an offering and whispering prayers to the Gods for its soul to safely travel to where it must go.

=> It was a strange tradition, one lost to time over centuries of the town's existence yet still practiced by all residents. Just like the Harvest Festival, no one knew which gods they were praying to. You wonder if perhaps you were unintentionally offering prayers for safety to the one who struck The Artifice down.

=> But, it is gone now. You know that to be true. What isn't gone, however, is-

"Vallis."

=> A name you have called out for many times now, despite that not being the state he is currently in. You can tell, you sense the shift in the air that points towards the hybrid once again ending up in a full terror state. It would make more sense for you to use its title, but you are not here, now almost waist-deep in Vernrot's ocean, to speak to The Slumbering Ones.

"I... Cannot care for your pets alone. That is something for you to ðo."

=> You are calling out to Vallis, to remind him to come home.

=> You close your eyes, focusing only on the sound of the waves lapping against your body. Within the swell, there is the quietest hum.

=> You hear the choked apologies of a scared troll, learning how to feel remorse for the first time in his life.

#drabble #fantroll musings #lusien avalon #not open #ik lucy doesn't know arty's actual name but it fit better with the prose to call it Artifice instead of Arty in that one paragraph lmao

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raitrolling · 7 months

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That is That, and This is This

[Easy reading version on Toyhou.se]

Lusien had been discharged from the clinic after a couple of nights, once Chryso felt absolutely certain that he was of sound mind and capable of looking after himself. His clothes from the night he arrived were returned to him, freshly laundered by Chryso’s assistant Phionn and his jumper and coat sewn back up by the local tailor, but the doctor made a point to mention how they had destroyed the pack of cigarettes he always kept in his pocket.

He had simply nodded and tried not to look too annoyed in order to avoid another rant about the absolute state of his lungs, but the two trolls knew very well that the moment he was out of sight of the clinic he was making a beeline to the general store to replenish his stock.

Detour aside, he followed Chryso’s advice to take it easy going up the stone steps leading up the hill where the lighthouse resided (actually, they had told him not to go up any at all, but this was quite literally unavoidable), still feeling the strain in his back from the increased movement. The pain had subsided to a constant dull ache over time with the occasional flare up, but Chryso had told him that he should only alternate between paracetamol and ibuprofen for now. They did not want to prescribe anything stronger when they could not trust him with his other vices.

Nothing he could do about it, Lusien supposed, just as there was nothing that could have been done to prevent Celise’s death.

Or was there?

The lighthouse’s lamp had been turned off for multiple nights now, and would remain that way indefinitely. The building felt more imposing without the warm light enveloping the surrounding area, and Lusien felt an uncomfortable chill in the back of his mind.

He’d been given too much time to think, and too much time to dwell on what he had done. The dark feelings of guilt had been festering within him, despite the fact that this was not the first (nor would it likely be the last) time he had taken a life.

He had no attachment to Celise, and they were clearly a threat - not just to the town but also to himself, but unlike all the tourists whose lives he had ended to keep the entities satisfied, they were someone he knew by name.

But, he didn’t want to dwell on it right now. First things first, he needed a shower.

For once, it was a bit of a nuisance that he was so diligent with his chores, as all his clean clothes were neatly stored away in his respiteblock on the second floor. At least the clothes he was currently wearing were cleaned recently.

He first turned on the shower to make sure the pipes were not going to blast him with ink, and began undressing while waiting for the water to heat up. He couldn’t have the temperature as hot as he ideally would want due to the stitches in his back, and it was also wise to not soak the wound for too long. As he was washing the conditioner out of his hair, he happened to catch his reflection in the shower screen.

It looked different, slightly.

But he’d wait until he was finished showering before he could check the vanity mirror to properly scrutinise his appearance.

Sure enough, he was right.

A few extra clumps of white in his hair was the most notable feature, a phenomenon well-known but not well-researched by the other residents of Vernrot Harbour. He could have dismissed it as an extreme stress reaction to the injury and then subsequent recovery, but there was also…

He brushed his fringe out of his eyes with his fingers and peered closer to the mirror. There was no mistaking it, not only did his eyes slightly glow, but his pupils also had a faint tinge of violet to them. When he looked into his own eyes in his reflection, something about them just seemed… Different. More powerful, but for reasons he could not articulate. He wondered if that was also the reason why the bright lights of the clinic felt so unbearable to him, though eventually he had gotten used to their blinding whiteness.

He also wondered what had happened to cause such a change. Celise’s physiological changes made sense to him, given how they had died and resurrected, but… When he tried to recall the events between them falling to the ground and him waking up in the hospital bed, he felt as if a thick fog was permeating his mind.

That could only mean one thing, and the thought made him shiver.

Lusien finished drying off his hair and getting changed back into his clothes, tossing the towels into the wash basket for later, then left to make his way over to the kitchen. While he hadn’t eaten anything but the processed hospital food for nights, he didn’t feel like he had the energy to prepare anything substantial. He opted for a simple dish of jam on toast, but as he was retrieving the toaster from the cupboard, the bottle of scotch on the bench caught his eye. Typically he would only drink a single glass with his dinner when he was eating at the local pub, but he has indulged in a glass at home from time to time, usually when in the company of his matesprit.

But tonight, he felt like he needed more than just cigarettes to take the edge off.

He poured himself a glass as he sat down at the kitchen table, and swirled the liquid around as he finally let his own thoughts swirl around his mind as well.

He never intended to kill them, but he knew there was no way he could merely talk them down as well. So why did he go after them? What was his end goal? He knew they couldn’t be reasoned with, everyone who he knows has spoken to them before would have said the same thing: They don’t take responsibility for their actions, they don’t acknowledge their own behaviour, it’s better to just leave them be. Maybe they would have eventually calmed down after their spree of killings. He didn’t know for certain, he can see many things but he cannot see into the future.

He simply… Felt obligated to do something. He had to take responsibility when no one else would. Confronting them was necessary, he’ll tell himself that over and over and know it was true, but his convictions were all wrong. He swung that wrench with purpose, not just out of a feeling of duty but out of fear. And out of anger as well.

He wasn’t that much different from them, he thinks. He doesn’t know what to think about that.

He was never the type to drink too hard, but he found himself not knowing what else to do to dull his mind. Soon, one glass of scotch turned to two, then two to three, then three to four, then eventually…

…

He awoke some time later to the sound of someone knocking on the door, which was the point when he realised he had passed out at the kitchen table.

Ugh, who is knocking at this hour? His head hurt…

He slowly sat back up, rubbed at his eyes and pushed his hair off his face, then equally as slowly attempted to navigate his way out of his chair and towards the door. The floor underneath him felt uneven, or maybe that was just because his sense of balance was completely off. And how do the locks work again…?

When he finally managed to open the door, he was greeted by the smiling yet curious face of the town’s scientist.

“Hm. Hm! An increased blood pressure and heart rate. But obvious signs of fatigue. A slower firing of synapses. A tension in the muscles. And. Your liver working overtime!” Vallis hummed, looking all-too-excited to be listening to the blueblood’s bodily functions. “Well! Lusien. You appear to be quite drunk! Chryso would be disappointed. I’d say. Haha.”

Lusien paused for an uncomfortably long time, but to him only felt like a couple seconds.

“Mm. ‘M not,” he slurred, then put a hand to his forehead. He was.

Vallis laughed, unbothered.

“Aha. Do not worry! I won’t tell. And. I suppose it is understandable! After what happened. Alcohol takes the edge off! Supposedly. I don’t drink it. But. More importantly! I’m here to deliver a few messages! If. Well. You are of sound mind to receive them.”

Lusien was not sure if he was, but nodded regardless. Vallis was generally tolerable company, but at this particular moment he just wanted to go lie back down.

The horrorterror hybrid smiled.

“Okay! Well! First things first! Celise is fine. Great, even! I assisted Chryso with supplying some cadavers. And. They completely devoured them. Bones and all! No trace in sight. It seems their internal organs and bodily fluids have become highly acidic in nature. After turning. It is quite fascinating!” Vallis nodded, but his cheery tone and sparkle in his eye began to fade. “But. Now that they are sound of mind once more. They still want nothing to do with me. Aha. A shame! I thought they might have seen. Well. A kindred spirit in strangeness.”

Lusien felt slightly relieved that Celise was able to regain their cognition.They were still dead, but they were not gone forever. They could potentially still live a decent life, albeit one highly changed.

“Did they… Say anything? About… This?” He spoke very deliberately, carefully enunciating each word as if he was still trying to pretend he wasn’t slurring his speech.

“Hm. Not that I know of!” Vallis shook his head. “Chryso provided them with hunger suppression pills. As. Well. They were still very hungry! A feeling I know too well. Aha. Which. I did suggest they try eating a variety of foods! To see what they can still stomach. But. Otherwise. Fine! Quiet. Confused. All very expected reactions.”

Lusien nodded. It was far too early to tell exactly how Celise would react to their new undead state, and he doubts Chryso would have given them the correct explanation when they were so incredulous to begin with. But, before he could dwell on it for any longer, Vallis spoke again, taking on a much more serious tone.

“But. However! I also have a second message. That from The Slumbering Ones Themselves.”

Lusien froze, feeling his heart stop and then sink into his stomach. Even with his thoughts and inhibitions muddled by the alcohol, he knew for a fact what he was about to hear will be highly troubling.

Vallis closed his eyes and began to hum, and the glow spots under his eyes and lining his ears started to light up in a rhythmic pattern. His hands melted away into clusters of tentacles, which unfurled from his coat sleeves and spread out around the two trolls. Lusien saw circular patterns on each tentacle that he had never noticed before, which lit up in the same pattern as the hybrid’s other glow spots. They encircled him, gently prodding at his limbs, back, and face, but not wrapping around his body at all.

There was a perceptible shift in the air, and the presence of the eldritch became overwhelming. Lusien felt countless eyes staring down at him, heard a harmonic chorus of barely-intelligible whispering, and saw the patterns in the lights.

As the song grew louder and Vallis opened his eyes to look directly into Lusien’s, he realised two things: The first was that he could not tell if this was actually Vallis singing, or if Those Who Slumber In The Deep were using his body as a vessel. The second was that the song was not in Standard Alternian, yet he could understand its language perfectly.

“You, who called upon us in a time of need, We heard your prayer. We sang of resurrection, and gave life once more, to the Descendant of The Abysseer.

Heed Our declaration, Descendant of The Luminous. There is no prayer that creates no debt for those who sing Our name. For each call a response, for every song must retain its harmony.

You have called for Us, and We have answered. When we call for you, you will respond in kind.“

#drabble #lusien avalon #vallis reyleh #plot: spanner in the works #oh lucy youre really in it now #you know shit is Bad when the non-introspective character is introspecting

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raitrolling · 8 months

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The Killing Type

[Easy reading version on Toyhou.se]

Lusien had been feeling a disturbance in Vernrot. A shift in the air, imperceptible to the town’s other residents, but one that made his skin crawl.

It was not like the time Those Who Slumber In The Deep had become unstable due to an unrelated shift in the world’s balance, threatening to drown out the town with constant torrential downpours and causing Lusien to fall under their spell.

It was different. On a smaller scale.

But, as a number of bodies had been discovered around town the past few nights, all heavily mutilated from multiple axe wounds, it was no less dangerous than any entity residing within the area.

It was something that Lusien needed to stop, before paranoia got a hold of the residents and plunged the community into total chaos.

And he had a hunch on who the culprit is - not one based on evidence or forensic research, as he was a lighthouse keeper, not a detective - but through pure observation.

It was the fact that for weeks now, every time he passed by the library, or the hive belonging to one of its employees, he found his psiionics overwhelmed by a dark, murderous aura emanating within.

Ever since the first body showed up, Lusien had taken to patrolling the streets in the early hours of the morning, when the other residents were likely to be asleep. The time of day hardly mattered in this town, as the constant rainfall blocked out the sun that would ordinarily harm the nocturnal troll species, but routines were still ingrained to fall in line with the outside world. It also meant that for someone supposedly hell-bent on taking innocent lives for their own enjoyment, these routines allowed them to conduct their deeds with little to no witnesses. The only trolls around would be lost tourists struggling to find their hotel after too many drinks at the pub, or a few stray locals hurrying home after a long night at work.

The former was an unfortunate incident, but ultimately unlikely to be missed. The death of the latter category was the real concern. Only so many local residents are trained to operate the many facilities of the town, and there are some who have gained the favour of the town’s supernatural residents, whether they knew it or not.

That was also how he felt more confident in his gut feeling, as when he had passed the fountain in the town’s main square, he heard the curses from the melusine, crying for the frog to be torn to shreds after murdering her favourite visitor. He left her an offering of some freshly-caught salmon, and muttered an apology.

It was fortunate that the streets were otherwise quiet, but that did not ease Lusien’s concerns one bit. Either the killer had not been active tonight - or he could have already been too late.

He turned down the next corner into one of Vernrot’s twisting alleyways, and came face-to-face with the troll he was looking for.

The troll looked frazzled, like they’d hardly gotten any sleep over the past few nights, and… More distressed than murderous, if Lusien were to be perfectly honest. However, swirling all around them was a dark aura so thick it almost obscured their face.

If Lusien was less experienced with his psiionics, he could have mistaken them as being possessed by an angry spirit. But that was hardly the case. No, a murderous aura of that degree could only be made by sweeps of unchecked aggression and bottled-up emotions, combined with the grudges of their previous victims sticking to them like tar.

Despite the extreme unpleasantness and danger emanating from the troll, Lusien addressed them levelly.

“Celise. What are you doing here?”

Celise squeaked and tensed up, feeling caught-out, and their fingers reflexively twitched as if curling around the handle of an invisible weapon.

“I’m- It’s- It's nothing, I’m just, um- Walking!” They replied back, though their tone was frantic and distressed. Their eyes rapidly darted between Lusien’s face and their own hands.

Lusien raised an eyebrow, as he could not get a read on their expression or motivations, but he could tell they were not being truthful.

“At this time of night? You should be in bed,” he looked at them with slight wariness, but kept his tone flat. He didn’t want to cause any trouble.

Celise’s hands twitched again.

“I’m just, um- I’m clearing my head! It’s too stuffy in my hive and, um- Too stressful.”

The blueblood hummed in response, still trying to get a read on them. Celise was also hyper-analyzing his intense gaze, the way he stood so solidly and looked down on them, his intimidating presence… They felt like they were being judged.

They had been backed into a corner yet again, and they were certain that the lighthouse keeper knew what they had been doing to relieve stress. And, what’s the problem with their actions? It’s not like he hasn’t killed anyone before! They’ve heard the rumours around town, and only didn’t pursue it because as an antagonist he was just so boring.

But it’s the boring ones who are capable of fully commanding any scene they enter, no matter how cliche their inclusion as a twist villain could be.

Celise gritted their teeth.

“It’s- It's not your business, anyway! What I’m, um- What I’m doing!” They cried out as one final warning, but they already felt the itch to retaliate.

Lusien stared for a moment, taking in a long drag of his cigarette, and decided that was that. There wasn’t much else he could do to stop them, other than make them aware that their actions would not be tolerated.

“Okay. Next time, you should try something different. A different way to work with your hands, maybe.”

He nodded at his own suggestion, not expecting it to be taken seriously, and turned around to leave.

But he should have known better than to turn his back on a panicked troll. One whose hands were ready to grip the axe in their strife deck at any given moment. One whose mind was frantic with fears that someone knows, someone who thinks he can just tell them what to do, someone who doesn’t care how they really feel, someone who dismisses them just like how Epsilo didn’t care to hear them out or Vallis didn’t care to consider their own interests or Tuuya didn’t care to pay attention all the time-

Lusien heard the footsteps rapidly approaching him, but did not turn around in time before Celise had swung their axe and struck him in the back.

The blueblood cried out in pain and staggered as the weapon was yanked out, causing him to be knocked to the ground. His cigarette ended up in a puddle somewhere, but that was the least of his worries. He was hardy like all highbloods, and the amount of layers of thick clothing he wore provided some cushioning, but that did not make the cut any less deep and the blood loss any less rapid.

He first quickly confirmed that he still had feeling in his legs, meaning that his spine had not been hit, then stared back at his assailant with fear in his eyes.

Celise stared back at him, equally as wide-eyed, as if it was their first time actually acknowledging the consequence of their actions. Their grip on the axe handle was so strong their knuckles were whitening, and they seemed torn between swinging again to stop the blueblood from moving any further, or… Lusien wasn’t sure what else they could be thinking, their expression was unreadable, and he was still struggling to see their face amongst the blackened aura and the spinning scenery.

He had to do something fast, otherwise he would end up dead, no ifs and buts about it. Could he stand back up and try to subdue them somehow? It hurt like nothing he’d experienced before, and he already felt like he was struggling to breathe, and he wasn’t sure if he could wrestle the weapon out of Celise’s hands.

But he could try, or he could-

No. It would be wrong to fight back. He could seriously injure them - or himself - if he tried.

But it would be quick, it would not be messy, and it would cause the least amount of problems to the town itself. And that was his main goal, to protect the safety of Vernrot Harbour no matter what, and that includes himself, even when the chances now seem slim.

He could not die here. Not when there was no one else to look after the town and its entities in his absence. Not when there’s no one else who can operate the lighthouse. And not when Anirus could return at any point, with no one to warn them of his passing.

He could never do such a thing to his matesprit, to leave them with no message or no final goodbye, and subjecting them to a lifetime of wondering what could have happened if they just visited a few weeks earlier, what if they stayed a couple nights longer, what if they gave up their merchant life and settled down, what if…

With adrenaline pumping through his veins and a heavy resolve in his gaze, Lusien stood back up.

Celise screeched, terrified that the blueblood had not stayed down like their other victims, and unsteadily prepared to swing their arms back with the axe still in hand.

Speed was not usually on Lusien’s side, but the combination of raw strength and desperation was. Before the other troll could make their second strike, he retrieved his wrench from his strife deck, and took a swing.

The weapon connected with the side of their head, and Celise dropped to the ground like a stone.

Lusien stumbled and wheezed from over-exertion, needing to stop to regain his bearings. His breath was ragged, strained from the ache in his back and the tar in his lungs, heart working overtime to keep himself conscious.

But even as his vision started to blur, he could tell that Celise was no longer moving. Teal-blue blood began to pool where their head met the concrete.

Shit.

He needed to do something now. They needed a doctor. Chryso’s clinic was-

No time to think. Lusien scooped up the smaller troll into his arms, trying to support their head to the best of his ability. His legs felt like lumps of lead as he tried to put one foot in front of the other, pushing himself to the absolute limit. He couldn’t tell if his back was feeling numb, or if the pain was so bad that he could no longer fathom it.

He knew the town like the back of his hand. He could walk the streets in his sleep. This almost felt like a dream, he was dazed and quickly becoming delirious from the blood loss, seeing lights and colours and only vaguely recognising them as streetlights. He could feel shadows clouding his vision, and whispers entering his ears, unsure if they were leading him in the right direction or taking him in circles.

“Gods, Gods above, O Slumbering Ones, guide this one to safety, for they do not deserve this tragedy I have bestowed upon them,” He rasped to no one in particular. The words didn’t feel like his, but an ancient chant once declared of sweeps long passed, encoded into his blood. In fact, he had immediately forgotten that he had spoken those words as soon as they had left his mouth.

But, perhaps… Maybe, he had called upon a favour, and something will respond in kind.

…

Lusien faintly recalled the blinding fluorescents of the clinic’s interior, the squeak of his shoes as he slipped on the pool of blood gathering underneath him as he had stood there gormlessly with Celise still in his hands, and the words of Dr. Haanda as his body hit the floor.

“Good grief.”

#drabble #lusien avalon #celise shoket #chryso haanda #plot: spanner in the works #[looks at that title] wuh oh that doesnt sound good

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raitrolling · 3 months

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Eye of the Storm

[Easy reading version on Toyhou.se]

The foundations of the lighthouse shuddered as the ever-increasing storm bashed against the entire building, rattling windows and causing the roof of the living quarters to creak. Rain droplets sounded like rapid gunfire from the sheer intensity they smashed into the glass. Waves crashed against the cliffside with the force of a truck, threatening to destroy centuries-old rock formations in an instant. Lightning illuminated the sky in rapid intervals, and thunder rumbled like a continuous drumline ushering in the apocalypse. Indoors, the power flickered on and off, each moment longer than the last. The howling winds spiraling around the town carried the lamentations of Those Who Slumber In The Deep, agitated by a disruption in the natural balance of the universe.

Had this been the first time such a weather phenomenon occurred, Lusien would have been convinced that the town would be swallowed up in a biblical flood.

He would have ventured out into the storm, risking life and limb to ensure the town was safe. That residents had prepared accordingly, sandbagging their hives and covering up windows to prevent flood waters from entering their home, keeping indoors to avoid the risk of being swept out to sea, not understanding the source of the storm but being aware enough to understand its ferocity.

He would have prepared as many offerings as he could, in hope to quell The Slumbering One’s rage, their fear that whatever disrupted their slumber would not come for them next.

But he couldn’t. He knew he could not do anything, no matter how loudly they cried for him - for anyone willing to listen to their song.

The furniture in Lusien’s hive had once again been piled against the door to prevent anything from entering, and for him to resist the temptation to leave. There had been little warning for the developing storm - perhaps an hour at most, if one understood Vernrot’s weather patterns well, - so he could not have restocked his kitchen with extra rations, but he knew he had enough to last a few weeks if he was careful.

But not enough cigarettes, he’d realised, running his tongue over his teeth as he tried to distract himself from the craving.

He would keep the lighthouse operating for as long as his supplies allowed, as futile as it may be. Any ship entering in the confines of Vernrot Harbour’s eldritch influence would be chewed up into mulch by the sheer force of the waves. Yet, still… He thought of Anirus, and how they had been worried for him the last time, sailing directly into a storm against all reason just to see if he was okay.

The storm had taken down all means of communicating with the outside world. He could only pray that if Anirus was headed in this direction, they would avoid the rough seas, and still spy the faint beacon on the hill and know they did not need to worry.

That had been the first freak storm in recent memory, when The Slumbering Ones were disturbed by an impending threat that could have wiped them from existence. The second had occurred some time after he had returned from his travels with Anirus, as that same threat was presumably extinguished.

The third…

God, he did not want to handle a third. Not this quickly.

Lusien had sat himself on the floor as all other furniture had been piled together to form the blockade, and reclined back against the couch with a loud sigh. He didn’t want to wait this out. He didn’t know how long he could wait this out. The terrors would calm down on their own accord, but how long would that take? Days? Weeks? Perigees? He wouldn’t know. He didn’t even know what caused this awakening-

“Lusien.”

He froze.

There was a voice from the other side of the door. Someone standing outside in the storm.

“Lusien, they’re- They’re gone. We can’t hear them anymore.”

That tone, albeit quieter and less stilted than what he was used to, could only belong to Vallis.

He could barely hear the hybrid’s voice over the cyclonic winds and the rain, but he could feel Vallis’ emotions emanating uncontrollably around them. The pain and confusion of The Slumbering Ones resonating through him and amplifying in one big feedback loop. Lamentations crying from the world beyond, without explanation. The fear of the unknown. The loneliness of being disconnected from loved ones. The melancholy of hearing bad news about an acquaintance. The grief of a cherished friend’s disappearance.

It was all too much for anyone, troll or terror. Lusien’s entire body heaved from the weight of these emotions hanging over him, shoulders sagging, air leaving his lungs and throat tightening, holding his head in his hands and curling his legs closer to his chest.

He knew why the troll on the other side of the door was grieving. He did not want to believe it, that someone he cherished so deeply could be the cause for The Slumbering Ones’ agony. His very first friend.

“It’s Thrixe and Zanzul, isn’t it?” He responded, near-despondent, wondering if there was any chance he could be wrong.

“Yes. The Choir, and The Lyric. They’ve- They’ve been banished to The Furthest Ring. We do not understand why. The Slumbering Ones are afraid. They could be next. And. What do I do?” The hybrid’s voice cracked, tinged with the heightened emotions that Lusien did not believe he was capable of experiencing. He heard the sound of Vallis slump against the front door, and felt his eldritch aura increase exponentially. He was losing his form in distress.

“Without their song. Without Zanzul’s guidance, I’m- And Epsilo can’t-”

Lusien knew what he needed to do.

Slowly, he stood up, and began to push all the furniture away from the door.

#drabble #lusien avalon #vallis reyleh #short and sweet. less than 1k words this time #those dang horrorterrors at it again #anyway. so vernrot harbour is completely inaccessible for the time being. give it a few weeks itll calm down probably #also the wind is going apeshit out here irl and theres probs a storm coming so life imitates art ig

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raitrolling · 6 months

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What my mains + some extras are doing for Fright Night cuz I forgot to make this post last night

Katrin - No plans, but if people are leaving candy outside with a ‘take one’ sign for trick-or-treaters she’s taking the whole pumpkin basket

Nancor - Running his fortune telling booth while dressed as a fallen angel (Gliese helped him out together his costume)

Ashe - Working, but dressed in silly Fright Night themed medical scrubs and handing out extra candy to patients

Velour - Attending Viltau’s party, dressed as Yue from Cardcaptor Sakura because he wanted to impress Jamie with an anime costume but because he doesn’t watch any just googled ‘pretty anime man’ and kept scrolling until he found one he liked

Mikiel - Nothing, unless he gets forced into attending a work event

Lusien - Putting in extra work trying to make sure all the supernatural creatures residing in Vernrot don’t cause too much trouble

Viltau - Hosting two Fright Night events which are both haunted house themed escape rooms: One early in the evening for just his friends, and another after that for guests who have accepted his invitations and signed the waiver because this one is the Murder Version. He’s dressed as a demon, and has constructed an entire backstory about his character being thousands of sweeps old and dedicating his lifetime to subjecting mortals to deadly puzzles to escape their demise

Glasya - Attending whatever party they can find (either a work one or one hosted by a friend), dressed as a slutty version of some classic horror movie monster

Vallis - Did not realise it was Fright Night

Liiore - Animal Crossing Fright Night Event is about as much scares as he can handle

Eichio - Working as Viltau’s assistant for his two parties, dressed as a demon butler / familiar

Sharle - Likely just preparing for the next race, but his team’s YouTube channel uploaded a video of him and Tira in shitty dollar store costumes attempting to carve pumpkins

Linnae - Does not know what Fright Night is and is very scared of all these people walking around in costumes and asking him for candy

#ooc #katrin rissah #nancor pharom #ashell bathre #velour #mikiel giacho #lusien avalon #viltau espino #Glasya elliss #vallis reyleh #liiore dariya #Eichio maccau #Sharle casini #linnae ishimi #mobileblogging

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raitrolling · 6 months

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Soup for the Soul

[Read part 1 here]

[Easy reading version on Toyhou.se]

It was not the call that Lusien had been warned about, but one that he still felt obligated to answer.

A cry of someone clearly in distress, echoing throughout the town but ignored by those whose perceptions had been warped to not notice the eldritch. A cry that Lusien thought that he would have dread to hear, knowing exactly what it meant for the scientist by the sea, but instead he felt concerned for the caller’s safety. It was not something any ordinary troll could not involve themselves with, which meant that as always, it was something only he could do.

Not just as the keeper of the lighthouse and the de facto protector of Vernrot Harbour, but as a friend of one Vallis Reyleh, otherwise known as The Reverberation of the Slumbering Ones. A title not used by the hybrid, but one whispered into the recesses of his mind by those he had become a vessel for.

It didn’t take long for Lusien to spring to action, making his way through the town towards Vallis’ hive. It was more common that the cuspblood visited him rather than the other way around, but this was not the first time he’d made this trip. The scientist’s hive always made him feel uneasy, a thick malaise of death permeated around the building, the lingering grudges of trolls that were once experimented on or killed as a result of his research into mutations. It was admittedly less noticeable than it once was, but what remained still gave Lusien the shivers.

At the moment, however, that aura was being overpowered by something more concerning: the air itself had grown heavy with exhaustion, that hollow emotion one feels after coming down from a panic attack. Lusien could tell it was a result of the hybrid’s emotional state distorting the space around him, as he has experienced the typically much more pleasant emotions from Vallis in the past. He took his cigarette out of his mouth and felt a heavy sigh involuntarily leave him, shoulders slumping at the same time.

… Then he shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment, not that the latter did anything to obscure the auras around the building. He can’t let it get to him. It’s just a byproduct of Vallis’ eldritch abilities, these aren’t his real emotions. He has to do his job instead.

He held his breath, then knocked on the door.

“Vallis.”

No answer. He knocked again.

“Vallis, I’d like to see you.”

Lusien could hear a faint, mournful hum from the other side of the door. If he focused enough, his psiionics could detect a large and distinctly not troll-like shape sprawled out amongst the hive. He knocked one final time.

“Vallis. I can help.”

The humming became louder for a moment, then he heard something move and the door unlocked. He waited a moment before stepping inside.

All the lights in the hive had been shut off, but on closer inspection appear to have shattered, leaving only the soft blue glow of the many aquariums within the hive. If Lusien were to guess, the scream he heard must have caused this damage, but Vallis’ adoration for his pets was powerful enough to alter the soundwaves and prevent them from being destroyed. There was a part of him that admired that side of Vallis, but he still knew there was a long way to go before he could spread that level of respect to other trolls.

His focus on the lack of lighting within the hive caused him to trip over something underneath him. Lusien was able to right himself fairly quickly, but it did cause him to shift his attention to the mass he had detected with his psiionics in all its horror.

It was Vallis, having completely abandoned his troll self. Large inky tentacles draped listlessly across the floor like vines, some even climbing up the furniture or leading into the next room over. There was no glow to them like he had seen the last time they met, and he could scarcely hear the usual humming that Vallis was known to do. That depressive aura still permeated from the eldritch mass, albeit weaker than what he had felt outside.

Lusien was able to piece together the situation very quickly: Something had happened that caused the hybrid to get stuck in this form, and for whatever reason, had lost the will to change back.

Once his eyes had properly adjusted to the darkness, he stepped over the tentacles to make his way closer to the centre of the mass, then crouched down beside it to meet it at ‘face’ level.

“Are you okay?” He asked, unsure if he was going to get an answer. He could not see any indication of a mouth.

To his surprise, he felt a response, which would be the best way to describe it. A cold shiver and a bubbling in the back of his mind.

Scared.

“How? What happened?” The blueblood responded as if he had actually heard anything, voice calm but with a hint of concern.

Too much. Too many eyes.

Lusien nodded. The horrorterror spoke much less in this form, but he understood the gist of it.

“The lights are off, you don’t need to worry about seeing.” He paused. “Can you change back?”

The mass hummed mournfully.

I don’t want to.

Lusien’s eyebrows raised slightly. That wasn’t good. Vallis couldn’t remain like this forever, he has his aquariums to look after, friends to visit, and other research to conduct. All things that could not be done in such a sorry state.

But, he simply nodded again, and stood up. He had an idea about how he could help.

“Okay. But, you should at least eat something. I’ll be in the kitchen.”

He walked away from the eldritch creature, careful to step over tentacles obscured by the lack of any decent illumination within the room. He had to admit, the bolstering of his psiionics by Those Who Slumber In The Deep has had few merits, this being one of them.

Vallis’ kitchen was not as well-stocked as the lighthouse keeper’s own. It was clear that he did cook his own meals, but his scatterbrained nature made it more difficult for him to keep fresh ingredients. The cabbage in the crisper was beginning to wilt, and there was something in the back of the fridge that Lusien had no desire to try and identify, but there were some ingredients he could put to work.

Two carrots, two stalks of celery, 3 tablespoons of butter, and a quarter cup of cream (much closer to its expiry date than Lusien would have preferred) from the fridge. Four potatoes, one onion, a carton of unopened chicken stock, three tablespoons of flour, and whatever herbs and spices he could find from the pantry.

He located a large pot from one of the cupboards, and the cutting board under the sink, and got to work.

He flicked the range hood light on to allow for some decent illumination in the kitchen, and began peeling and chopping up the carrots and potatoes.

Ordinarily, Lusien liked to smoke while he cooked. However, it felt somewhat impolite to do so when working in someone else’s kitchen, and he had another idea for how to coax the cuspblood back to his usual self.

He cleared his throat, and took a breath.

“... Now we are ready to sail for the Horn...”

His voice was low and gravely, and undoubtedly amateurish. It was a song he had heard many times while visiting Vernrot’s pier, listening to the sailors preparing for their next journey, as well as one he’d heard while he travelled with Anirus. He had been too shy to join in with the crew, opting to quietly mumble out of earshot.

He didn’t know if Vallis could hear him right now either, given the distance between the kitchen and the lounge room, but that did not matter. It still felt important to him, to sing like this.

“... Our boots and our clothes, boys, are all in the pawn.”

He scraped the carrot tops and vegetable peelings off the cutting board and into the bin, noting the cuspblood’s lack of any separate bin for compost. Then he fired up the stove and began to melt the butter in the pot, alternating between watching it and chopping up the onions and celery.

“Heave a pawl, oh heave away…”

He thought he heard something behind him as he dropped the carrots, celery, and onions into the pot, ears flicking in response. He stirred the vegetables, but for a moment had to turn his head to cough into his sleeve, throat irritated from sweeps of nicotine usage.

Then, he continued the song.

“... The anchor's on board and the cable's all stored.”

Next were the herbs and spices: A tablespoon of garlic (he would have much preferred fresh, but could only find a jar that was pre-minced), a quarter teaspoon of dried rosemary, a few shakes of red pepper flakes, a quarter teaspoon of black pepper, and much more salt than this recipe would typically ask for. It may not be to Vallis’ liking, but Lusien needed to counteract his own taste buds, warped due to eldritch influence.

He scattered the flour over the vegetables and cooked them until they began to brown and smell toasty.

“Soon we'll be warping her out through the locks…”

He started slowly whisking in the stock, adding small amounts at a time. It had to be done carefully to ensure there were no lumps from the flour, and to achieve the ideal amount of thickness.

There were more shifting sounds behind him, and in the reflection of the nearby window, he could spy a purple glow, brightening and lowering in time with his song.

“... Where the pretty young girls all come down in their frocks.”

The potatoes were next to be added to the pot, and so would a bay leaf, had he been able to find them in Vallis’ fridge. He glanced at the clock on the nearby oven. They’ll need to cook for about twenty minutes before they become tender enough, and all that would be left to do is stir in the cream until it has blended, then serve.

There wasn’t that much clean-up to do, at least. Only to wipe down the cutting board and run the utensils he’d used so far under the sink.

From the other room, there was a quiet hum.

“Come breast the bars, bullies, heave her away…”

The knife, vegetable peeler, and measuring cups and spoons were washed and returned to where Lusien found them.

The humming grew louder.

“... Soon we'll be rolling her down through the Bay.”

He rummaged through the other cupboards to find bowls for the soup, as well as cutlery and glasses. He wasn’t sure what sort of drink Vallis would like with his meal, so water from the fridge was the best bet.

“Heave a pawl, oh heave away…”

As he watched the pot to make sure it didn’t hit a boiling point, he realised there was more than one voice singing with him.

“... The anchor's on board and the cable's all stored.”

He turned around.

“ -To be rollicking randy dandy-oh!”

The horrorterror hybrid stared back at him, completing the song with a cheery lilt. He had not quite finished returning to his troll form, as his arms and back were still primarily tentacles and his legs were re-forming in front of Lusien’s eyes. It was the first time he had seen Vallis’ hair fully down, and without its usual dye covering up the large patches of white cascading past his shoulders. It was also the first time he had seen him wearing pyjama pants and a loose t-shirt, both patterned with cute octopi designs he had come to expect from the cuspblood.

And, it was also the first time that - for just a moment, - he had seen Vallis’ sclera turn completely black. Surprisingly, Lusien didn’t feel concerned at all, just… Pure relief, to see the scientist- No, his friend, in a form he mostly recognised.

“Lusien! I’m back. Haha.” Vallis beamed, glow spots all lighting up. “I thought I wouldn’t. It was so tiring! Overwhelming. I went too far with my experiments. But. Then. Your singing! It brought me back. It was rough. But pure! A very lovely song. I wanted to sing too! And. You’ve made food too!”

While his words were as enthusiastic as always, Lusien could still feel those lingering emotions emanating off Vallis. He was still hesitant, perhaps afraid, of whatever experiment he had gone ‘too far’ on.

But, it wasn’t Lusien’s place to ask. He could not provide a solution for the hybrid’s abilities and any complications, he could only assist with small comforts. A warm meal, a song, a helping hand.

And sometimes, that is enough.

He gives the scientist a small smile.

“I’m glad you’re back. The soup will be ready soon.”

#drabble #lusien avalon #vallis reyleh #this drabble really is the Full Raitrolling Experience. there's food and music in it #tho ig i have less music-focused drabbles than i do food-focused ones #anyways something something the defining trait of being human is enjoying good food with others and experiencing the joys of music

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