[PRP] All Alone on a Mountaintop... [Sarcifax]

[thyPOPE]

 

[thyPOPE]

The sun would rise in probably about two hours. That was nice. Alifax actually felt pretty excited for it.

That was unusual, too, but he was, also atypically, swimming in beetles at the moment, and yet he'd still managed to catch himself what would be dinner for the next week. Now that was an accomplishment, he thought dazedly. It was a large bleating cloven-hooved hopbeast, with plenty of meat and silken fur. It'd been actually fairly quick work to skin it - well, it'd taken all night, but what did you expect from a troll going solo? Still, it was an accomplishment, and the thing was half Alifax's size anyway. The sweet aroma of browning meat had been wafting through the clearing for about half an hour now, and Alifax was ready for his morning meal.

It was strange to think of it now, but nearly a sweep ago he'd been practicing here and a yellowblood had walked in on him. He'd pushed that guy the ******** away.

The Alifax of the moment could safely say he had no interest in that. While he was fairly certain he was alone at the moment - he was fond of this clearing precisely because it was out of the way - he no longer felt interested in seeking that isolation out, even for use of his pyrokinetic ability. He had a contingency plan in place, now (or most of one, anyway; he trusted Vrykol's desire for discretion and strangely soft heart). And somehow the decision to stop hiding such a large part of his identity made it easier to find groups of people who wanted to spend time around him. He'd have thought it strange if his pyrokinetics didn't provide such utility, and not just to himself. It was still unusual, of course: somehow knowing what Alifax could do made trolls more relaxed around him. It was a stupid reaction if there ever was one; anyone who'd survived to his age was certifiably deadly, especially if they didn't look the part.

But maybe that was the thing about trolls. They liked it when you laughed and did pointless things like pretend to be a princess. They could - they could sympathize. That was the word Alifax was looking for. He'd never been good at establishing camaraderie before; that was why he'd never been able to just melt into the crowd like he'd always thought he should. And now by revealing what was supposed to be his secret, he was already on higher ground when it came to that. It sounded pretty stupid to him but in all honesty...maybe it was nice. Maybe he was ready to talk to people about things that weren't training or stats. Maybe it'd be nice to not be alone.

He settled in by his fire, basking in its bright coals. He'd prepared an unusually large portion of the meat for himself tonight - it was a celebration of a truly exciting catch, after all. And meat was always best when it was freshest. Perhaps now it could also be a celebration of how nice it felt to not look over his shoulder for observers. Let them watch.

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

The crunching underfoot paused.

The moons were low in the sky now, nearing the horizon. Give or take a few more hours and they'd be gone, replaced by the vehemence of the sun, blinding and bright and burning. Her hands shook, quickly finding their way to the pockets of her pants. It was cold—Busthind usually was, being a mountain and all. It was funny; for as often as she came to visit, she never really grasped the concept of coming prepared, especially when clothes were concerned. True, there was a thin jacket pulled tightly over her short sleeved shirt, zipped up yes but the thinness of the material did little to stave the chill. She got cold rather easy anyway.

Taking a shaky breath, Sarcel dipped her head back down, feet quickly scaling the path up the alp.

She probably looked like a wreck. Sarcel hadn't checked before she left her hive, and no one could notice her with her, ah, abilities. She boarded the train to the tiny, unassuming town that bordered the cliffs, invisible and transparent and blessedly unnoticed as a result.

Still, she knew she had to look like s**t. What was the point of looking decent when you never left your hive? How long had it even been now? Sarcel's trips to the mountain used to be so frequent. What had happened to Sir? It seemed one night he had just vanished, swallowed up in the snow, a phantom left to haunt and call for blood in the solitary domain he claimed as his own. Her life had been sliced in half once realization had dawned on her; yeah, he really was gone. Where too? She didn't know and had no way of knowing. He had finally given up on her; and why wouldn't he? She was a miserable failure of her caste. She wouldn't have lasted longer anyway, not even under his guidence.

Or well, if she was merely a blueblood, but she had a... curve, maybe. Her power gave her a nice buffer. Anytime the meek girl had to venture outside she used it, which was rather ironic given her tendency to hide it from god and everyone. It wasn't like anyone knew when she walked out invisible. The curse that had been cast upon her now ironically enabled her to hide and blend and stay weak. She was one with the walls now, nothing more than a shadow cast at dawn when the streets were barren. Unwittingly, she had walked out of the mainstream plane of existing when Sir did.

What a quiet, dreary, lonely span of time it had been.

Sarcel was a contradictory fool. She craved interaction and friendship because those things sparked trust and trust was safe, but how would she grasp that safeness when she couldn't trust in the first place? Everyone she ever knew was gone now, not just Sir. Why would anyone wait for her? It was selfish to think they would, especially since she herself facilitated that growth. She was the one who isolated herself. No one had truly left her, maybe.

She was also still the one forcing herself up this goddamn mountain. She knew she wouldn't see Sir again, not here, probably not ever again, and she wondered why she was even trying. Perhaps some of his tenacity had indeed rubbed off on her, in the end. Still, it felt stupid now that she was here. Pointless, even. What compelled her forward, higher and higher? Was she doomed to chase her past demons for the rest of her inevitably long lived life? Would she ever find peace? She felt an unusual, but not unfamiliar anger burning in her chest.

Oh, wait, something really was burning. Fortunately for Sarcel, it wasn't anything on her person, and while she had jumped she quickly realized she was outright inane in her assumptions. The hell would she be on fire? You're not a pyrokenetic, just capable of invisibility. Her hands found their way into her hair, threading through the messy fluff anxiously as they tugged at the choppy strands. This wasn't good. Her nerves were threatening to go off again; pull it together, pull it together... Fires were a like, totally normal occurrence on mountainsides, in general really, right? Hell, trolls were vicious and weird and destructive, it seemed totally plausible that some crazy ******** would go around and ignite things for the hell of it. Better steer clear of that s**t. Definitely not going to investigate that, not going to go poke at the hornet hive.

She found herself following the smoke.

Dammit Cincil, dammit. This was bad. She wasn't even a naturally curious troll—in fact, she was more than content to let things do as they do and move on doing her own little life and own little things. Not necessarily humble, but she was fine being un-included in the grand scheme... She sighed. At least, if it was some crazy ******** that she walked in on, she was sure she could outrun them. Unless they were a crazy ******** with a flamethrower, and then that might get a little sticky, but if luck was on her side, maybe it'd just be some matches or something right? A lighter?

Instead Sarcel found her stumbling upon a clearing, eyes staring at and then immediately glancing away from the flames burning there. The smell of smoke and charred meat caught her nose quickly, and when she forced herself to glance towards the light with squinted eyes, she saw the figure of someone there silhouetted against the light. Fortunately for her, they didn't seem to be running around blazing the forest up, so she guessed that was a bonus, and by the smell of cooked flesh she assumed they were actually using it for more conventional things. How surprisingly normal.

But who the heck makes a bonfire and cooks on a mountain anyway?

She supposed she should be used to things being weird and over-the-top-extreme, but it was her nature to be paranoid about everything. Questions questions questions. A million questions came to her thinkpan—ones she, for some strange reason, felt the urge to call out—but her voice didn't come to her, it had been so long. Not to mention they were all dumb and useless to ask anyway. Aren't you cold? They're by a fire, dumbass. What are you doing? Didn't we already establish that? Who are you? Would they really be so receptive to a question like that, standing on an isolated mountain, suddenly approached by some stranger who also happened to be out wandering this close to sunrise?

Probably not.

Why were they even out so close to sunrise anyway?

She shook her head, focus. Part of her brain—the far more logical side—screamed to run. Turn around, run away, keep going up to that stone fortress, have your fears confirmed and hopes crushed. She swallowed hard. Deep down was a tiny part of her that willed her to walk from her lonely life, but damn it all if it wasn't a terrifying idea. She felt traumatized for even thinking of such a wild goddamn thing. She didn't even know this troll—they were a stranger Sarcel, do you know what that means? Strangers equaled danger—and yet, through trembling hands, she still felt compelled. What an awful existence this way, to feel like a constant contradiction.

She made a step towards the light, wincing when her shoe landed on a small branch in the dirt, effectively sending a loud snap out that matched the crackle of the flames. It felt like something out of a stupid movie, really. Her mouth opened and snapped shut a series of times, but her mind was still infuriatingly blank. Nothing came. She forcibly found nervous self-assurance regardless.

"I-I..." Ah, the first thing she says in how long and she still stutters. Pathetic as always. Self loathing crushing what little confidence that allowed her to speak, she fell silent again, fighting the urge to cloak herself and meld back into the scenery and snow.

thyPOPE

i am so sorry

 

[thyPOPE]

Even though Alifax had just been thinking about observers, he had to admit that he hadn't been expecting one. To be honest, he usually spent time on Busthind Mountain because he knew he'd be alone: most of the few trolls that ventured this far out were content to stay within the confines of its little town. Well, except for other inhabitants, but in all honestly Busthind Mountain was a place ruled by an unspoken pact of silence. Trolls generally minded themselves, up here. It was down in Four Fronds and New Hemisect City that Alifax really spent any time socializing.

Still, he didn't really actively push trolls away, either, and he especially wouldn't have done it for a blueblood. He glanced up at the troll who'd just spoken. Did she need directions to the little town? In all honesty, it looked like she was coming from that direction. Maybe she'd been hilariously turned around, or maybe she was a city dweller who'd walked right past it? Alifax had to admit that the town that nestled itself deep within Busthind wasn't really much of one: most of Busthind's inhabitants kept to the cave systems.

"Do you...need directions?" he asked, rising to greet her. Carefully he turned the meat.

Wait. What if she was a resident, too? You really couldn't tell, sometimes, right? "Oh - is your hive nearby?" He glanced around. He'd been using this place to work with his abilities for a little over a solar sweep now, but that didn't mean he knew everything about the place. The thing about trollkind was that it was incredibly sneaky, when it wanted to be.

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

It was a little unexpected. Sarcel wasn't expecting to be greeted with kindness, though once she saw the red painted symbol on the chest of the other troll, she was hardly surprised. It made her droop just a little, not that she wasn't already droopy; actually, it was the warmth of the fire making her droop. She had been ridged with frost up until then.

Still, she hardly had contact with anyone up here on Busthind. In fact, since the disappearance of Sir, she had no contact with anyone here at all. His inquiry made her bite her lip, glancing towards the ground. Directions? Ah, "N-No, not... not really..."

She let the crackling of the flames fill the silence for a breath.

"I-I'm not from a-around here, n-no..." she shook her head and sighed, offering a rather lackluster shrug. "I was hoping t-to see someone, b-but I... don't think t-that's really going t-to happen."

And well, it wasn't much of a lie. She took a hesitant step closer, regarding the flames. Honestly, she rather would have turned herself around and gone back home, but the warmth was compelling when her bones were so cold. The meat smelled delicious. It seemed nice, living out here in relative isolation. Peaceful. Sure, she knew a couple trolls that might find hell in such solitary, but it seemed like a dream to Sarcel. The only flaw was you needed to be strong, capable. If something happened, it wasn't like there would be anyone around to help you.

And well, Sarcel didn't believe in herself that much yet. Busthind left a sour taste in her mouth anyway. Any solace she found in this cold unforgiving place was scarce at best. She shook her head again, this time of her thoughts.

"I guess.... y-you are from a-around here...?" Sarcel was a pretty shabby conversationalist, that much was obvious. "T-That's a uh, nice fire..."

With a jolt, she realized the sun would be out soon. s**t; she hadn't even thought about making enough time for the trek back down the mountain, way to go Sarcel. Well, she'd have enough time if she was fast enough, and she was pretty damn fast, so long as she didn't linger around here for too long.

It had just been so long since she'd spoken with another troll that it both feared and comforted her.

thyPOPE

sarce is good at talking sorry for the double quote i saw a typo HORK

 

[thyPOPE]

Alifax watched this new troll consideringly. Actually - she looked familiar. Something about the caves, and the mother grub...

Well, Alifax knew how he knew her (she knew Pyruet, he reminded himself - and she'd been carrying that one guy with the horn), but he didn't know much about her. Or remember her name. He wasn't great with faces, after all. "Sorry," he told her, after a bit. "It's easy to hide up here, if you don't want to be found." Actually, that sentence made it sound like Alifax was up to something sketchy. This was not, in fact, the case. He wasn't sure if he could help her, in any case. He didn't know anyone, and if you went searching in the cave system, it was far more likely to happen upon the brooding caverns, and be chased off by lusii. It certainly wasn't an ideal situation.

Still, he nodded to her question. "I am. Alifax Bunsem," he said, although he notably didn't give any indication of where on the mountain he lived. Well, he had a hive, but its location was secret. He told most people that he lived at the hive that'd been built for him by drones when he was younger. That was the normal thing to do, in this society. "I'm making dinner," he said, stating the obvious.

He wasn't sure how much someone like her would appreciate his style of cooking - Frossa liked her meats piled high with sauces, and Hazzan...liked green stuff? Still, why not take a chance? Ha'd made a lot, and the alternative was to leave it smoking a little ways away from his cave. And anyway: he was armed, and he had his fire ability at his disposal. "Do you - want to join me?"

melancholies

i'm the worst crying ;;

 

[Melancholies]

"O-Oh um, S-Sarcel Cincil..." she stuttered out her name softly, keeping her eyes trained on the fire as she considered Alifax's words. "That's... pretty t-true, actually." there was a faint smile on her lips, but there was nothing happy about it. It drooped a little, was kind of sad, pathetic like Sarcel was. "I haven't b-been able t-to find him f-for a long time n-now."

She awkwardly inched her way closer, savoring the warmth from the flames. "W-Would you m-mind?" well, why would he when he offered. She chewed her lip and took a seat. Her diet was considerably normal, but the roasting meat smelled amazing enough.

Actually, Alifax sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn't really place it. Well whatever, it didn't really matter in the long run.

Well, now that she was here, Sarcel wasn't sure what to say. Never really one for conversation, she was starting to feel really awkward again, listening to the crackling of the flames. "Um..."

She shrugged her jacket around her loosely, trying hard to find words for conversation. "S-So... what... d-do you do up h-here? Um, I m-mean, for fun?" she smiled weakly, realizing how lame she probably sounded. "O-Or anything I guess, uh..." she shrugged again, looking back to the fire for answers.

thyPOPE

kinda shortttt