Sgrub! (Karl, Ferret)

[Karl the Unfettered]

wW: Ngh... ac-cord, soldier-boy. Not deal, ac-cord.
wW: How c-can you c-call yourself a seagrift's descendant if you c-can't get the t-terminology right, huh?
wW: You highbloods and your ancest-tor worship... jegus.
wW: Well whatever, I'm leaving. See you in t-twenty!

wannabeWiseguy ceased trolling recoillessBifurcation

Highbloods... arrogant gits, the lot of them. Colferas muttered obscenities to himself as he logged off Trollian and shut his top off, captchalouging in his coatpocket modus. He went over to the crate of Ultrastrong and was just starting to unload bottles when something hard crashed into his bone nook; he slumped forward, out cold.

He woke up a minute later, slightly disoriented. Immediately he knew what had happened; he'd been to enough gang wars and taken care of enough contracts to know when he'd been hit himself. A sneak attack, plain and simple... but how'd they get past Massacree? And where was that little devil anyway? As if in response to his thoughts the little hawkbeast fluttered in through the open window, alighting on Colferas' shoulder with a twitter of anxiety; he rubbed its head reassuringly, so it wouldn't feel guilty over the breach of security, and then got back to business.

But it seemed business had got back to itself while he was out; the crate was already neatly unloaded, and there was a fancy old-fashioned suit neatly folded on top of the lid. Well, there was a surprise... whoever'd stealthed him appeared to have some sort of courtesy. With a shrug the wiseguy captchalouged both the half-full crate and the fancy suit, checked his weapons again, and stepped out.

[Sporky]

[RB]:Th4t sucks, m4n.
[RB]:Oh well, some other ni6ht, I 6uess.
[RB]:I'm just w4itin6 on Colfer4s to drop by for 4 de4l. ...I ME4N, 4CCORD. Ye4h. 4ccord.
[RB]:4lso, someone c4me in, knocked me out, 4nd left 4 bunch of clock 6e4rs on my desk. Weird, but I'm not 6onn4 worry 4bout it th4t much. Weirder thin6s h4ve h4ppened.

Now Wytmonde's boredom was returning. The weird shenanigans were out of his mind, and he settled into resting his head on one hand, drumming his fingers against the desk with the other.

Rommwel hopped in through his respitblock's doorway, and settled next to Wytmonde. Even sitting down with his wings pressed against his body, Rommwel's head reached Wytmonde's torso. He shook his head in mirth and stroked the old bird's head, which was met by Rommwel pushing his head up into Wytmonde's hand. Silly thing.

He'd noticed Rommwel's calming down recently, and it had weirded him at first. Wytmonde's face still bore a myriad of pecking scars from his earlier sweeps, when he'd rebelled against Rommwel's physical training. It only ever took one peck to the face, that always broke the skin, to make the little troll scuttle off to the obstacle course to train, or do push-ups for a good half hour. He'd gotten used to the featherbeast's demanding squawks, so it had been odd when he'd calmed down. Now, though, it wasn't so bad. Kind of peaceful.

[Vipervertical]

A frown grew across Perzac's face as he read over the messages. Something odd was afoot, and he smelled shenanigans. Oh no, that was just Wulfgangue. Silly lusus and its gastronomical problems. He scratched the little woofbeast anyways before typing up his reply.

[IS]: Kolferas?
[IS]: That's the redblood, right?
[IS]: I was khatting with him juust now, myself.
[IS]: And what do youu mean somebody knokked youu ouut and left stuuff for youu?
[IS]: I thouught when people broke in they were suupposed to take stuuff.
[IS]: I also thouught youu were suupposed to be trained to stop that sort of thing.
[IS]: This is huurting my thinkpan.

[Sporky]

[RB]:Ye4h, him.
[RB]:He's hea4din6 over 4s we spe4k. Tr4din6 him my fl4methrower for his 4wesome moonshine
[RB]: LOOK. I w4s just thinkin6 4bout somethin6, when CONK. Out cold. When I 4woke, there were clock 6e4rs on my desk, bro.
[RB]: Kind4 h4rd to prep4re for th4t, you di6?

Rommwel gave a little squawk, and Wytmonde shook his head again, reading down to ruffle the giant bird's headfeather. "Crazy old thing, what's gotten into you lately?" he mused at it, to which Rommwel replied with a contented warbling. Crazy old featherbeast.

[Vipervertical]

Perzac laughed at the mental images this conversation was giving him. The trained soldier was taken out from behind, without being able to defend himself. Wytmonde would never live this down.

IS: Suure, whatever.
IS: So youu and...Kolferas?
IS: Youu're pretty klose then?

He was about to ask about Colferas' personality, to try and get closer to a more pleasant relationship. But Trollian beeped at him. Somebody he didn't know was contacting him. Curiously he looked over the message. What did this even mean?

-- illusionaryVulpine [IV] began pestering intrepidStalker [IS] at --
IV: s0 y0u're wytm0nde's c0-player?
IS: Ummm, ko-player?
IV: [blue]hm[/blue]
IV: [blue]l00ks l1ke 1m t00 early 1n the t1mel1ne[/blue]
IS: We played FLARP before, yeah.
IS: What's that mean?
IV: [blue]y0u'll f1nd 0ut eventualy[/blue]
IS: That's ominouus.
IV: [blue]1ve been called w0rse.[/blue]
IS: So youu kan see the fuutuure or something?
IV: [blue]n0t exactly[/blue]
IV: [blue]but 1 am aware 0f y0u[/blue]
IS: Well, I'm aware of youu too?
IS: I wasn't before youu started talking to me thouugh...
IV: [blue]1ndeed. lets suff1ce t0 say that 1ve ga1ned an extreme 1nterest 1n y0u and s0me 0f y0ur fell0ws[/blue]
IS: Like Wytmonde?
IS: How do youu know him anyway?
IV: [blue]1ndeed[/blue]
IS: Are youu his sekret matesprit or something?
IV: [blue]unf0rtunately, expla1n1ng that w0uld take m0re t1me than we'd have[/blue]
IV: [blue]but 1n the future, we'll have m0re t1me t0 talk[/blue]
IS: I....guuess that makes sense.
IV: [blue]th1ngs w1ll make m0re sense 1n the future as well. suff1ce t0 say that y0u have... 1nterest1ng t1mes ahead 0f y0u.[/blue]
IS: That's good, I guuess.
IS: It's kinda boring tonight.
IV: [blue]1s b0r1ng bad? 0r d0 y0u w1sh t0 l1ve 1n 1nterest1ng t1mes?[/blue]
IS: I think it'd be better if things were more interesting.
IS: Buut does what I think even matter?
IS: I mean, apparently youu know abouut the fuutuure.
IV: [blue]what y0u th1nk matters m0re than y0u real1ze.[/blue]
IV: [blue]and what y0u d0 w1ll cause r1pples acr0ss the un1verses[/blue]
IS: I'm starting to feel a little skeptikal.
IS: I'm hardly seven sweeps, not nearly old enouugh to be that important.
IV: [blue]n0t 1n trad1t10nal s0c1ety, maybe[/blue]
IV: [blue]but ne1ther age n0r bl00d c0l0r shall d1ctate y0ur dest1ny[/blue]
IS: My thinkpan huurts. Youu're being very konfuusing.
IV: [blue]as n0ted, 1ve been accused 0f w0rse[/blue]
IV: [blue]keep an 0pen m1nd, perzac.[/blue]
IV: [blue]1t'll be 0ne 0f y0ur best assets.[/blue]
-- illusionaryVulpine [IV] ceased pestering intrepidStalker [IS] --

Perzac frowned. Who was this person and what was going on here? Wolfgangue leapt to his lap, nuzzling his torso and helping him calm down. Everything was alright. Things would turn out the way they were meant to. But somehow the conversation kept bugging him in the back of his mind. Maybe this stranger was onto something....just maybe...

[Karl the Unfettered]

Colferas eventually showed up outside Wytmonde's hive, ogling at the place. He had no idea why anyone would want to live here... it looked like a war had been fought, both sides lost and some spiteful third party had bombed the place for giggles. He didn't get it, and thought of his own relatively luxurious hive; sure he lived in a hive stem with a bunch of other trolls, but he had the top floor hive and no one talked down at him because of his mutant blood. Maybe it was because if they did he'd fill them with hot lead, or cut them in half; he'd done that before, after all.

Anyway. He walked through the ruins of the base (fortress?), clutching his awesome coat against his body until he found what seemed to be the main building; it was still somewhat intact and decorated with Wytmonde's idea of art, which made Colferas wince as he took it in. He went up to the door, knocking strongly and preparing to simply waltz in, when he realized he wasn't certain what soldier-boy's name was. Whiteman? Whinkhom? Gog, something or other...

"Hey, uh, Soldier-boy!" he yelled instead, shoving the door open and walking in like he owned the place; mobsters always did that, after all, unless they were supposed to be quiet. "Special fark-kin' delivery, c-capiche?" Better to stick with titles than mess up a fellow's name to his face, after all.

[Sporky]

Wytmonde was picking up on Perzac's insinuations, and he didn't like it. He didn't like it at all. It was just business, Colferas wasn't anywhere in any of Wytmonde's quadrants. Just business, gog. Some people couldn't get romance out of their thinkpans.

He was about to respond when Rommwel gave a suddenly squawk, which startled Wtytmonde and made him fall out of his chair. Shaking his head, he picked himself up and growled at Rommwel, who had flown off outside, and was circling around in the sky and screeching Wytmonde stuck his head out a window to question his lusus, but then he noticed Colferas approaching. He waved to the crime boss wannabe, then rushed down several flights of stairs (It keeps happening!) to outside, making sure to captchalogue the flamethrower and...

Wait, what?

There was a full tank of fuel sitting right next to the thing. It hadn't been there before..

SOME SERIOUSLY WEIRD SHENANIGANS WERE GOING ON.[/b]

Choosing not to think about where the fuel had come from, Wytmonde captchalogued both items and headed out to meet with Colferas.

"Hey, uhhh...funniest thin6 h4ppened. Turns out I did h4ve some juice for the thin6. 4pp4rently. It definitely w4sn't there before. Weird shen4ni6ans, broski."

[Vipervertical]

Wytmonde was taking a while to get back to him, which probably meant that Colferas had arrived at his hive. While he waited, Perzac decided to get back into the fresh air. He really didn't want to have to rush back and forth in and out of his hive again, so he decided to take everything he might need with him. With that in mind, he captchalouged the pile of horns, the grubtop, a THICK NOVEL, and the RUSTY GUN on a whim. Lifting the little lusus off of his lap, he placed Wulfgangue on his shoulder, where he splayed out happily and appeared to go right back to sleep. With his sylladex packed almost full, he headed up the stairs.

Climbing to the roof, he stood tall, enjoying the cool breeze once more. He happily surveyed the area, sighting out the nearby hives. Among them was Arquua's, which made him worry about her once more. Pushing the thoughts aside, he simply sat down on the edge of the hive, letting his feet hang out over the open air. The conversation with the stranger nagged at his mind. Interesting times or not, he doubted the future would be all that bad. Maybe he was just optimistic, but he had confidence that everything would work out fine. With his matesprit around, the two could conquer anything...

[Karl the Unfettered]

When Wytmonde revealed he had had flamer fuel, Colferas' first thought was to call him a liar and get mad. Then he reflected on his own incident, with the unloaded crate and the suit; maybe it wasn't so improbable, then, that Soldier-boy would have fuel when randomly he didn't before. Massacree chirped up at Wytmonde's massive guardian from its perch on the moonshine smuggler's shoulder, and he scratched its chest absently.

"Smells like weird shenanigans, man," he replied thoughtfully, looking up at the grayblood. Wytmonde was a whole sweep older than Colferas, but only about inch and a half or so taller; it gave the mobster hope that his presumably Good Fer Nothin ancestors might not have been so worthless after all.

"I had some myself before I c-could leave... some jack-kass knocked me out from behind and unloaded the c-crate for me, but they also left some weird old suit," he went on. Then he shook his head. "I don't like shenanigans of any sort though, so let's get this over with," and he brought the half-crate of Ultrastrong out of his coat. "I... I guess you c-can c-come back with me for the rest of the ult-trast-trong, if you wanted; I'd have to t-troll ahead and t-tell the drones t-to pick the place up first."

He regretted it the moment he said it; he wasn't usually so nice. Was this that troll disease called friendship he'd been warned about before? Massacree didn't seem to be reacting, so he had to assume it was the right thing to do and just roll with it for now.

[Sporky]

Wytmonde was just nodding and smiling at Colferas first. Something about him made him..uneasy, a little. It was probably just the lifestyle. Colferas was a gangster and asmuggler, Wytmonde wanted to be a noble soldier.

It was probably his unknown seagrift ancestor's influence that drove him to drink so heavily and make this deal. Wytmonde had no idea he even had a seagrift ancestor. He'd just been having weird seagrift-themed dreams a lot lately. That was all. That, and being generally interested in the life of a seagrift. There was soemthing glamorous and awesome about it.

Then, Colferas dropped the bomb. He'd been knocked out and had stuff left for him, same as Wytmonde had. This...this was just some unholy shenanigans going on all up in here. All the tomfoolery was occurring. All of it.

"Waitwaitwaitwaitwaitwaitwaitwait, what?!" was his exclamation, and he was on Colferas, grabbing the younger troll by the shoulders and shaking him for a few moments before he calmed down. "Dude, that exact same thing happened to me. Weird shenanigans, indeed.."

[Vipervertical]

It was nice and quiet, the breeze creating the only slight sound as it rustled the leaves. Perzac enjoyed the gentle cool. His feet dangled over the long drop. It was a great night, and boring or not he'd enjoy it. He lied back, causing Wulfgangue to squirm back up and onto his chest. He gave the lusus an absentminded scratch as he once more sunk his teeth into the perpetually scarred wrist. He held it off to the side, allowing it to drip onto the hive's roof before he placed his fingers in it, drawing a rather awkward looking book without looking. Luckily, the sylladex picked up on what he wanted, summoning the thick novel.

In the darkness of the Alternian night, in the coolness of the gentle breeze, Perzac lay quietly. And as he lay, he read. The lusus breathed softly against his chest, resting as it too enjoyed the night. The night was only just begun, and there would be much to do before it ended. But for now, he was content to read his novel. His affinity for stories about doomed romance stories had caused him to pick out this book, and he did not regret it. The climax was almost upon him, and he allowed himself to be immersed in the fictional tale of romance and sorrow and tragedy.

But it was only fiction, after all.

((So since Perzac appears to be accounted for, feel free to skip my turn until someone specifically calls him out or I end up having another pesterchum chat with someone else.))

[Karl the Unfettered]

"Hey, slow down!" Colferas shouted as Wytmode jerked him back and forth, "I didn't have anything t-to do with it!" Then he was released, and he stepped back, glaring at the older troll. "There's no c-call for that overreact-ting c-crap, got it? This is c-crazy enough without it." He turned away, glancing about room while Massacree nudged his cheek anxiously; after a second he turned back, his face set.

"Well, shenanigans or no shenanigans, we had an ac-cord. I'll t-take this," and he captchalouged the military flamethrower, "and I'll have t-to bring the rest of the c-crate over here soon so I c-can t-take the fuel as well." Wytmonde had no use for the fuel anymore anyway, so he could have just given it to Colferas without any dealing, but the mobster didn't think of that sort of thing. He was a trader, after all.

Now that the transaction was complete, the mobster was at a loss. "So, uh... I c-can't remember your name exact-tly, soldier-boy. Whiteman? Whitney? Something like that." He shook his head. "I have t-trouble with names in general, really. Like that yellowblood, Prozac or whatever; we're gonna go out on an advent-ture for chipotle peppers pretty soon, if he c-can t-tear himself off his matesprit long enough t-to do any decent planning."

On reflection that had nothing to do with how he couldn't exactly remember names, but whatever. No one was keeping track, after all.

[Sporky]

Wytmonde's mind was thinking about other things. Weird crap was going down, and it seemed to be the same person, if only based on the method of operation. Conk them out, then leave things. Weird. He'd have to ask someone about this later.

He grunted at Colferas every now and then as he thought, and it was obvious from his expression that he was clearly preoccupied. He did, however, acknowledge Colferas' comment about names. "It's Wytmonde. Wytmonde Herleifer. and 'Prozac' is Perzac."

Wytmonde scarcely acknowledged Colferas was there after that, assuming he'd just get bored and leave. He'd offer an apology, but his mind was seriously lost in contemplation. He engaged PACE MODE, trotting up and down the floor of his respiteblock.

[Karl the Unfettered]

Wytmonde was clearly preoccupied with thoughts most dire, so after a minute of waiting for a response to his offer Colferas shook his head and walked out. "I'll see you soon, Wytmonde," he called over his shoulder as he walked out, Massacree on his shoulder and the flamethrower burning a hole in his coatpocket modus. Well, not literally burning a hole, of course, but figuratively.

Halfway back to his hiveblock he got bored, looked around, spotted a bench and sat down, pulling out his grubtop and activating Trollian.

wannabeWiseguy began trolling intrepidStalker

wW: Hey, Perzac.
wW: You done mooning over your matesprit yet so we c-can have a decent planning session?
wW: I wanna get st-tuff done, bro, not sit around wait-ting for my life to pass by!

Clearly, the mobster had no patience when it came to romance.

[Sporky]

Wytmonde paces back and forth for an hour. Ideas clicked in his mind, played out, stopped, rearranged, played out again. His was a veritable husktop of a thinkpan for the time being. He calculated possibilities innumerable, analyzed every outcome..

And in fact...

HE HAD NO CLUE WHATSOEVER.

Bluh.

Dejected, he plunked down into the squishseat apparatus (Chair to all those fancy highbloods, and waited for someone to troll him.

[Vipervertical]

Things weren't looking good for the protagonist now, a shot in the gut was his reward for standing up for his love's safety. Perzac was engrossed in the novel, his attention rapt on every letter. The book was nearing its end now, so the death wasn't out of the question. His previous experience with this author had shown him that such endings weren't unlikely. He simply had to know what happened next. Nothing could draw him away from this plot now!

Wait, what's that beeping sound?

Perzac was snapped out of the immersion fast enough to feel whiplash. He didn't move for a moment, allowing himself to ease back into reality. It was a jarring experience being- There's that beeping again!

This time he was lucid enough to realize that it was coming from his captchalouged grubtop. He marked his page before shutting the book and setting it down. That novel would not remain unfinished for long. He vowed to complete it as he leaned back into a sitting position, nearly falling off the roof when he forgot everything below the knees was suspended at an unsurvivable height. He flailed about embarrassingly to regain his balance, which only barely succeeded.

With the issue of a quick and terribly lame death avoided, the troll resorted to self mutilation, again loathing the irksome fetch modus. With some quick blood sketching he regained his grubtop, which he set on his lap after a few less than attractive skids away from the edge. This little display of awkwardness would go unmentioned in the chat, that much was certain. Oh, Colferas. Yes, he would definitely not be mentioning this to him.

IS: You want to plan something?
IS: I don't uunderstand.
IS: What are we planning for?
IS: Shouuld I be assuuming youu fouund something to do tonight?

[Karl the Unfettered]

Colferas groaned. Yep, still mooning, otherwise he wouldn't have forgotten about the sauce. Jegus, did everyone around him utterly fail to realize how ridiculous romance was? It didn't do a damn thing once the Imperial Drones came with the filial pails. Gog, it made him sick just thinking about it.

wW: You c-can't have forgot-ten already. We're going after chipotle peppers, remember?
wW: Unless you're st-till mooning over that sk-kirt you c-call a matesprit.
wW: How c-can you say you're descendant of explorers if you let some broad dist-tract you from what's import-tant, huh?
wW: Whatever, we're not t-talking about that anymore.
wW: All I know about the chiptole pepper is that one c-can find them in mount-tains, but I've never been there. So we need t-to plan for a hike, but you're the expert on expeditions so I'll defer t-to your expert-tise.
wW: If you c-can st-top mooning long enough t-to be product-tive!

Farking romance...

[Sporky]

Wytmonde was started to slip into unconsciousness, he wa s so bred. But he couldn't do that. Hell no, he couldn't sleep unless it was inside his recuperacoon, he didn't want to be wracked by horrible nightmares.

Oh, hey, Arquua was on. Poor thing was sick, he'd heard from Perzac. He had t o check up on her.

-- recoillessBifurcation [RB] began trolling agrarianPredator [AP] --
RB: Hi 4rquu4.
AP: Oh hi wytmOnde~
RB: How 4re you?
AP: nOt tOO well~
RB: Still?
RB: Th4t's horrible.
AP: sOrry~
AP: i'm a little distracted~
RB: It's ok4y.
RB: Sh4ll I 6o?
AP: nO, it's alright~
RB: You sure?
AP: i'm nOt dying Or anything~
RB: Ok4y.
AP: yOu twO are making such a big deal Over it~
RB: Is it wron6 to worry 4bout 4 friend?
AP: i guess nOt~
AP: i appreciate it anyways~
RB: You're welcome.
AP: sO i heard there's sOme new game Or sOmething cOming Out~
AP: perzac's been talking abOut it~
RB: S6rub?
RB: It torrented itself to me e4rlier.
RB: Somehow.
AP: that's strange~
RB: It is.
AP: i think yOu twO shOuld play it~
RB: M4ybe we will.
AP: at the very least it shOuld keep him Occupied and nOt cOnstantly fretting Over me~
RB: D'4www.
AP: but be careful~
AP: sOmething's up with the sky tOnight~
RB: Oh?
AP: i dOn't knOw fOr sure what it is~
AP: but sOmething is Off~
RB: Yes.
RB: There 4re DEFINITELY shen4ni64ns 4foot.
AP: shenanigans?~
RB: Shen4ni64ns.
AP: that wOrd still sOunds funny cOming frOm yOu~
RB: Why?
AP: i'm nOt sure~
AP: it just dOesn't sOund like a wOrd yOu'd use~
RB: Hmmm.
AP: this is gOing tO be a lOng night~
RB: Why?
AP: the lOngest Of this sweep, if i'm right~
RB: Ohhh.
RB: I 6otch4.
RB: I've 6ott4 6o, 4rquu4. Thin6s to do.

-- recoillessBifurcation [RB] ceased trolling agrarianPredator [AP] --

Wytmonde pushed himself back from his grubtop, stroking his chin. Even Arquua had noticed strange things afoot. He wandered out onto one of his hive's landing slats, and gazed up at the green moon overhead. He could hear Rommwel, or a t least some giant avian that sounded exactly like Rommwel, screeching off in the distance. The old bird had probably gone off to feed himself.

A soft breeze caressed Wytmonde's face. It made him feel..odd. He felt like things were gonna go down tonight. Strange things. Shenanigans, even.

[Vipervertical]

The grubtop beeped in agitation. It almost seemed to be as upset as Colferas himself was. Perzac chuckled at the thought as he typed up his replies.

IS: I suupose I kouuld akt as a guuide.
IS: Buut we'll have to wait uuntill tomorrow.
IS: Like I've previouusly mentioned, I kan't go adventuuring withouut my matesprit.

The grubtop indicated another incoming message. Wytmonde again? They hadn't spoken this much in a while.

-- recoillessBifurcation [RB] began trolling intrepidStalker [IS] --
RB: THIS JUST IN
RB: Colfer4s is weird.
IS: Youu juust now figuuring this ouut?
RB: Well, no.
IS: What did he do now?
RB: N4h, just 6ettin6 b4d vibes.
RB: I think he is utterly opposed to rom4nce, dude.
IS: I've notiked.
IS: When that Imperial Drone komes arouund, he'll learn the error of his ways.
RB: Vi4 DE4D
RB: 4mirite?
IS: I hope it doesn't kome to that.
IS: Buut yeah.
RB: I know..I know..I h4ven't filled 4ny qu4dr4nts either. But not for l4ck of tryin6.
IS: That's not youur fauult.
IS: Youu've got time.
RB: Plenty of sweeps, ye4h.
RB: He 4lso tends to r4mble 4nd r4nt 4bout hi6hbloods 4nd 4ncestor worship 4nd 4yiyiyiyiyi.
RB: Dude is w4rped.
IS: He's the least trolllike troll I've ever met.
IS: And I'm not exaktly the best example of a troll myself.
RB: Nor I.
IS: I think he's offended by the fakt that I have a matesprit.
RB: I've noticed.
RB: How D4RE you fill 4 qu4dr4nt. Oh, the NERVE.
IS: Well he's still youung, I guuess.
IS: He's got time to figuure himself ouut.
IS: We all do.
RB: Yep.
RB: We 6ot 4 while before we 6ott4 offer fili4l p4ils before we le4ve 4lterni4.
IS: This konversation is starting to feel....awkward.
IS: Kan we khange the suubjekt?
RB: Yes.
RB: Still bi6 on books?
IS: Yeah, I'm almost done with this one.
RB: Of course.
RB: I c4n't re4lly 6et into books.
IS: Not youur fauult.
RB: Meh.
RB: Wh4tevs.
IS: All ouur bone nooks are different.
IS: Or there'd be no fuun.
IS: Buut hey, youu've got all that soldier stuuff youu're good at.
RB: Heh.
RB: Th4nks, bro.
IS: Youu're the last troll I'd ever want to get in a fight with.
RB: M4n6rit.
IS: So what's uup with the sky tonight?
IS: Looks like we're getting a meteor shower or something.
RB: Your 6uess is 4s 6ood 4s mine.
IS: It's starting to weird me ouut a little.
RB: Don't worry too much.
IS: I guuess there's nothing we kan do abouut it.
IS: So youu find anything to do tonight?
IS: I kan sit here and read the rest of the night away, buut I'd rather be ouut and abouut...
RB: I'm tryin6 to unr4vel 4 mystery.
RB: 4 mystery of shen4ni64ns.
IS: Still don't know who knokked youu ouut?
RB: Or Colfer4s.
RB: The ex4ctsome situ4tion .
RB: Knocked out, stuff left behind.
IS: This night juust gets stranger and stranger.
RB: It re4lly does.
RB: Prob4bly nothin6.
IS: I douubt it's nothing.
IS: Buut I also douubt youu'll be able to figuure it ouut.
IS: It souunds like whoever did this knew what they were doing.
RB: 4re you 6oin6 fortune teller on me?
IS: Nah.
IS: I'm juust saying youu shouuld be wary, buut don't try too hard.
RB: Tryin6 to send 4 complex thou6ht throu6h my beefc4ke thinkp4n counts 4s 'tryin6 too h4rd'.
IS: I'm suure youu'll figuure it ouut in time.
IS: No uuse straining when youu don't have all the fakts.
RB: Plenty of time.
RB: 4nd now you're 4 le6isl4cer4tor?
IS: I'd be a terrible legislakerator.
IS: I don't like blaming people. Youu know that.
RB: I do.
IS: So are we going to sit abouut diskuussing ouur fuutuure plans or are we going to do something tonight?
RB: My thinkp4n is in 4 tizzy. I don't think I'll be 4ble to 6et 4nythin6 do- HEY
RB: I'm 6onn4q send you 4 file, ok4y?
IS: Suure?
RB: This thin6 torrented itself to me.
RB: 4nd 4rquu4 su66est you 4nd I pl4y it 4nyw4y.
-- recoillessBifurcation [RB] proceeds to send the sgrub file folder --
IS: Arquua? Youu two've been talking?
RB: Briefly e4lier, ye4h.
IS: Hmm, so I juust install the klient thing or...?
RB: Don't rush it just yet.
IS: ...
IS: Oops.

The installation screen flashed before his eyes, the strange symbol fluctuated on his screen while nonsensical messages flashed across the bottom of the screen. It was...slightly hypnotising.

[Karl the Unfettered]

wW: T-Tomorrow is fine, we don't have t-to leave t-tonight. That's bad planning.
wW: Anyway I'm get-ting that feeling a t-troll gets when someone else has the wrong impression of him, so I'd best go sort some st-tupid fark-kers out.
wW: Violently, if need be. See the c-color of their blood.
wW: Arrivederci!

wannabeWiseguy ceased trolling intrepidStalker

He'd heard his superiors saying 'arrivederci' a few times, and in context figured it was a way of saying goodbye to someone you had respect for. And he thought he could respect Perzac; the kid liked books, after all. Can't go wrong with books.

In any event he'd spent enough time sitting around, best to pack up again and move on to the ol' hive. He put his 'top back in his pockets and took to his boots again, in no particular hurry this time; he hadn't noticed earlier, but the sky sure was acting strange. "Met-teors, huh? What's it mean, Massacree?" he asked of his lusus, glad he didn't normally stutter on names. The little hawkbeast didn't know, but chirped anyway.

Colferas made it to his hive in time, sitting down at his desk and firing up his computer.

wannabeWiseguy began trolling recoillessBifurcation

wW: So, Wytmonde.
wW: I've heard a lot about this game, this Sgrub, recent-tly.
wW: Also I think you and Perzac have a few bad impressions of me, and we'll have t-to set those st-traight soon enough.
wW: But for now we have things t-to disc-cuss.