[Area] Alternia

While waiting for the food that Scrack ordered, you pull out your smartphone to touch base with your colleagues.


You set the phone down and take a quick look around for any signs of what might tell you what version of Alternia you happen to be in. Not finding much in the way of answers, you decide to ask the question to your new little friend.

"Forgive me for this obvious question, but who's currently in power running the empire?"

"oh that? its still the same old condence.. a thousand sweeps before and a thousand sweeps ahead, if nobody manages to beat her in a challenge."

"Any attempts that have made the news lately?"

"i dunno,, i don't keep track of that.."

You figured as much. Maybe you'll learn more later.

Soon enough however, the waiter walks on over with two baskets of deep fried caterpillars and two smoothies.
Scrack begins feverishly eating their fried food. Running for their life must have really worked up an appetite.
You opt to simply captchalogue yours to add to the replicator on a later date. You uncaptcha some root beer and a hot dog to replace it.

You'll figure this stuff out later, after lunch.

---

Hours later...

"Please do not touch the horns."
You are giving Scrack a piggyback ride, and this child is trying to hold on any way they can. You know your false horns would offer no safety whatsoever, but with your cover, you can only express that by appearing picky.
"what am I supposed to hold back here tho??" Scrack asks while digging their fingernails into your shoulders. Zorua carefully steps around the child's desperate hand on one side to retain their perch.

"Anything but the horns!"

You quickly regret having so few limits on what "anything" could be.
Scrack proceeds to grab your long whispy parted bangs.
"YEEOOOW!"
"aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" Zorua joins you in falcetto.
"yee-haw!!" Scrack proceeds to do their best cowboy impression, as you play the part of the mechanical bull.

"GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY HAIR!" You scream at the grubby kid pulling on it.
You feel the strain upon your hair follicles. Your Stand diligently heals any injury resulting from this, but the pain keeps coming. You worry your bangs might wind up growing in the wrong place if pulled too much.
The kid then reaches for your ears.

You regret regaining the ability to feel this kind of torture.
You haven't screamed that loud since your early days back in SBLUH.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!!"

It takes a moment to regain your focus.
"That's it! The moment we make it to troll home depot, I am putting you in a harness! I will leash you! You shall be constrained like the feral beast you've proven yourself to be!"

"..chihuaua mom used to have a leash"

You stop in your tracks.
You didn't realize that was what their lusus was.

...It all makes sense now.
Scrack was raised by the alternian equivilant of a quivering little dog.

However, the moment of clarity is short lived, as you find yourself in a parking lot, full of parked scuttlebuggies. Strange bug-like vehicles with some very... questionable biotech considerations.
But then again nobody questioned catbus, so what do you know.

"there it is!! troll home depot!!"

Somehow, it looks exactly like you imagined.
Its like somebody took a photo of a hardware store on earth, swapped around some colors, and added some... very curious design decisions.

You crouch down to let Scrack off of your back safely. They hop off and land on their feet.

"So... what do you have in mind here, considering that we spent the last of your pocket change on deep-fried caterpillars and a pair of smoothies?"

"you didn't even try yours though!!"

"I told you, I need to save it for later, so I can make infinite smoothies later."

"whatever.. anyways,, we're gonna do some shoplifting!!"

...shoplifting.
...somehow you're not surprised at all.

"Are you sure you know how to avoid getting caught here?"

"Are you kidding?? i know all the ins and outs of shoplifting!! all you need is a jailbroken sylladex."

...Sylladexes can be jailbroken? How have you never heard about this? Had your emotionally dead past life as a well payed executive made you blind to the intricies of poverty-inspired crime?

Most importantly though, is this ethically permissible enough for you to partake in?

"...if we do this, what consequences will there be for those that work there?"

"i dunno,, i've only grabbed small stuff.."

You groan and pull out your smartphone, silently thanking Queen Mab for gifting you a communicator brick when you got this phone.
You need to consult your allies for advice...

"this is the place.." Scrack presents a nondescript door on the side of an otherwise unassuming hivestem.

"Just for confirmation: you have made successful business deals with this individual, correct?"

"uh,, yeah!! just gotta remember one thing:: don't talk about the eye."

You nod. This certainly wouldn't be the first time that you've made shady deals with sensitive folk in back alleys.

Scrack does a special knock pattern on the door. It doesn't take long for the view slit to open. You note that it also has a glass cover, likely to avoid surprise stabbings.

A single eye looks out at you and Scrack.
" ( ...who's the tall bastard with you? )"

"A customer with a source. he's got the au."

The eye looks directly at you. with all the layers of disguise, enchantment, and obscurity upon you, it's hard to tell what you look like, but to most, you have the distinct appearance of an ancestor-- someone that ought to be legendary in their own right, having lived a colorful life.
a description that could fit if you weren't just a visitor on the eve of destruction.

"( Hm... youse a high sweeper? you ever go off world? )"

"...It's a secret to everyone." You nod.

You really hope that classic Zelda quote has the same connotations here as it would have elsewhere.

The eye studies you for a moment, before the slit finally closes, and the door opens.

The two of you (plus Zorua) enter.

---

You soon find yourself in a silly lit dining room, sitting at a small circular table. there's a turquoise teapot in the center, though you're not sure if it's ever actually held any rea in it. The troll before you is a short but stocky tealblood, with short pointy horns to match. she's also wearing an eye patch.

"( So, let's see what you've got. )" the cyclops grimaces.

You uncaptchas a satchel and drop a handful of Plit-stamped gold pieces into the table. to anyone that knows the sound of falling gold coins, it's clear that these are the real deal.

The cyclops picks up one of the coins and inspects it with a handheld looking device, and begins doing a number of basic tests. biting, checking for magnetism, hooking it up to a toy circuit linked to some sort of local starchy tuber...

"( damn, you've got some good shit. )"

"Indeed."

You proceed to discuss local conversion rates, do a little haggling, and watch her stick a bunch of them on a little scale against some weights. Fortunately, this isn't your first trip to Alternia, so you have a rough idea of how much you should expect for the amount of gold you're offering.

Fortunately, this cyclops is a troll of her word, and you get the funds you expect out of the deal.

"pleasure doing business with you."

"( likewise. if ya ever in the area and you wanna trade again, call me up. )"
she slips you a calling card with her number and trolltag. aurumCirculation. By muscle memory, you attempt to offer your own business card, but you no longer run a business that you can give a card for.
You wind up writing your chumhandle onto a napkin and handing that over.
This is such an embarrassment, but you have to keep a poker face on the matter.

"Duly noted. thank you."
With all that completed, you make your exit with Scrack and Zorua.

Now to get in contact with that modusAppriciator person...

You arrive at the hotel room, right behind Scrack. True to it's promise, this hotel room has all the standard amenities. however, you may have gotten something stuck in translation when you asked for a a room with a twin pair recoopercocoons.
it turns out it's just one with two entry ports.
No matter, you don't even need to sleep in one, being (debatably) human and cursed unable to dream anyways.
You uncaptcha your sleeping bag and unroll it somewhere with enough floor space.

"This is so cool!! we can watch movies, use the deathray protein rotation device,, keep stuff cool in the mini thermal hull,, prank call the pizza place,, check if those clown holy books really have a gun hiding in them.."

"excuse me, what." This is your first time hearing about the fabled "subjug emergency gun".

"you mean,, you've never seen Two Outlaws go on a Cross Country Road Trip, Stop in a Roadside Rest Area, Find a Subjugulator Holy Book in the Bedside Drawer, and Claim the Gun and Proceed to Shoot Every Daywalker that Tries to Attack Them??"

Somehow you feel that particular movie either doesn't have a Hollywood equivalent, or is actually two movies crammed into one.

"I can't say I've ever seen that one before, no."

"maybe they got it on paper view??"

"you mean Pay-Per-View?"

"no,, I mean paper view."

"I think a movie with that much violence is the last thing we need."

"oh come on,, that movie's weaksauce!!"

You briefly recall something you once read about the political context of the golden age of spaghetti westerns, and how Italy's movies at the time were as violent as the times they were made in. You wonder if similar conditions had arisen here on the so-called hellmurderplanet.

"...Look. I almost lost you twice tonight, at very least. while my curse mandates that I will have no nightmares nor dreams in sleep, my waking hours are filled with that which does not register in my resting hours."

"and that means??"

"it means I'm worried all the time, okay?"

"..oh."

"Scrack, can you do me a favor and go to bed early today? We have a busy night tomorrow."

"can I at least use the ablution chamber first??"

"yes, you may use the ablution chamber."

"yaaaaay!!"
and with that, the child rushes off to the bathroom to take a shower. You wonder when was the last time they got a chance to take one.

---

With a rare moment of quiet, you and Zorua take a peek out the window, just barely lifting the blackout curtains.
The sun has risen and ow fuck shit it's bright!
You immediately close the curtains and take a moment to let your Stand heal any damage afflicted to your retinas.
The sun is even brighter than the one that casts light upon Korous!

While recovering, you take a moment to reflect on things.

Despite everything, despite the danger lurking that threatens to go against you at every turn, there's a part of you that feels like you belong here.
Something about existing in a fully realized society that's just as fucked up as you are.
Operating under cover of night, finding safety in the darkness. Sure, it's the very definition of alien to an earth-raised sbluh player like yourself, but you never really felt like you fit in among humans anyway.
Perhaps that's what prompted you to take the dive into the deep end of the furthest ring, all those years ago? Is that what called you to the void?

No, it's more complicated than that.
It always is.

However, even if there are more pieces to the walking puzzle that you happen to be, you certainly wouldn't mind integrating into troll society... if it were an option.
This world's days are numbered, adults are technically banned from the cradle of trollkind, and you aren't even troll enough to fit in anyways! What kind of troll thinks about what it means to be a father? ...Besides Zowera.
Regardless, this untamed child is no replacement for the child you didn't even know you had. You wonder if they could potentially be friends though. they are (vaguely) in the same age bracket, after all. Then again, who knows how much Scrack will claw and bite at everyone they meet.
Come to think of it, do you even have the resources to raise a child on Desertia? Or if you wind up going on the road with the odd squad on Plit, what then?

Another thing, all this time, endless questions had been raised about how alternian trolls would be able to coexist with other peoples from significantly less oppressed social conditions. would they be able to live freely if the wayward children of this world started over on Korous? Would they terrorize the peaceful lifestyle of the SBARG natives of starter planet? Would they incur the wrath of Arceus due to mistreating pokemon? This isn't even taking into account ecological concerns...

While you are busy worrying endlessly, Scrack walks out of the bathroom, wearing at least three towels.

"Paiyne,, can I wash my clothes in the sink??"

You look over.
"Let me check if there's a clothing tumbler here."

You do a quick look around the hotel room.
Somehow, there happens to be a weird looking squishy device that vaguely resembles a clothes dryer? Perhaps it's more important when there's a chance of accidentally getting sopor slime on your clothes.

"I'll wash your clothes. You've been through enough today. Go watch some cartoons or something."

"okay!" Scrack runs on over to the closest chair and sits down. They turn on the TV and it appears the news is on.

...great.

"!!Dawn action news! All the news every day!!"
A jadeblood holding a black parasol shows up on the screen. She's wearing a black dress too.
Apparently all black is average faire while colorful garb registers as goth, from what you remember.

"!!Earlier tonight, there was a fatal scuttlebuggy crash, the car and it's occupant both perished upon direct impact with this hivestem. According to eyewitness reports, the scuttlebuggy had swerved out of the way of a jaywalker, that appears to match the description of a wanted individual by the name of--"
You quickly change the channel.

"hey,, I was watching that!!"

"you can watch the news some other time."

"but I think I saw that crash earlier!! wasn't that when you pulled me out of the road??"

"you don't need to see it a second time."

"but come onnnn.... Chihuahuamom was never this strict.."

"well I'm not chihuahuamom. If anything, I'm more like a dad than anything."

"a trolldad?"

"...sure."

"okay trolldad.." Scrack sighs in resignation.

The title used upon you however, lifts your spirits, not unlike having your gender affirmed.

Is "trolldad" a gender?
Probably. You've witnessed genders expressed beyond human comprehension plenty of times before. Something as simple as trolldad could easily be a gender.

You ponder this while hand-weashing Scrack's outfit in the sink. Its nothing special, just an average olive sign-printed black shirt and dark gray shorts. You're having to swap out the water in the basin pretty often from all the dirt, oils, and whatever else got on there.
You're glad that you got some practice in manual clothes washing while working directly under Queen Mab. If you had your memories at the time, you'd likely be embarrassed to be in such a humbling position back then. However, now is different.
This child is your responsibility, trolldad or not. You made a promise that you would protect them as long as they kept their end of the bargain, and until your mission is complete here, you are under the contract.
That being said, you'll need to figure what will be best for them after this is all over.

After the world is over.
After everything they've ever known is obliterated by meteors.
After everyone they ever knew is reduced to an agonizing last moment to the tune of a scream at a psychic resonant frequency.

...This is some fucked up shit here.
You never did like what the game would always do to the host planets. Or what the game would do to its players during gameplay. Or what the players would be reduced to after their destinies are played out and there's no grand narrative to string them upon anymore.
Its nothing but an endless cycle of suffering.
Sure, there is happiness in rare moments, but its always something cut tragically short in the name of cosmic propagation.
The best you can do is rebel in the dark corners where Skaia's light dare not reach, and seek your own happiness where it cannot so easily be taken away.

...how long have you been washing this outfit?
You should probably turn off the faucet and get this into the dryer.

You toss the clothes in and figure out the controls, the best way you can. Somehow you can handle organic interfaces better than analog. You'd rather not remember why.
You walk back over. Looks like Scrack already climbed into the recooperacoccoon for the day.

There's something about the feeling of someone's life in your hands. It used to be more of a control thing in your darker days, but now, with your heart no longer shrouded in darkness, you can feel the weight of responsibility. The value of a life beyond what you can push someone to pay in ransom to save it.
You actually fucking care about people again.
Sometimes it makes you cry.

Yeah, you're crying right now.

Zorua cuddles up against you, knowing you need that in this sensitive moment.
You hold your beloved companion close, petting them gently.

You'll get some sleep later when the dryer or whatever its called finishes drying Scrack's outfit.

There's a commotion downstairs at the hotel. It turns out, Scrack signed the guestbook with their own name and symbol, and that was easily traced back to their public records.
a number of deputized troll cops prepare to storm the halls under the chief's command.
however, it's important to remember one small detail:
they're all bickering teenagers.
the desk attendant has to listen to their bullshit for at least 10 minutes before they finally get into gear.

Soon enough, there is a loud knocking on the door.

"THIS IS THE POLICE! THERE IS A WARRANT OUT FOR YOUR ARREST, SCRACK RHODAN."

You and Scrack freeze, having almost finished the pizza at this point.

"...fuck. we have to leave now."

"where do we go?"

"just grab everything you can and I'll get us out of here."

Scrack proceeds to captchalogue every loose item they can get their (clean) grubby hands upon. They manage to find a clown holy book, but despite there being a clear gun shaped hole in the pages, the gun is nowhere to be found!
Someone else must have taken it.

Meanwhile, you review Zorua's moveset.
Swift, snarl, shadow sneak, and calm mind.

BANG BANG BANG!
The door is smashed open!

Scrack hides behind the recoopercocoon!

"Zorua, use swift!"
Zorua hops off your shoulders and launches unmissable star shaped projectiles at the cops!
Unsurprisingly, they begin opening fire!
You return Zorua to their ball and become intangible. you manage to only get shot a few times in the process. no matter, you'll heal later.
what's important is escaping soon.

the cops, bamboozled by just how many shots this (illegal!) adult was able to (not) take, take a moment to regroup and reload.

meanwhile, you grab Scrack into your arm and dash towards the window!

"YOU'LL NEVER CATCH ME ALIVE, COPPERS!!!"

You leap-phase through the window and activate your godtier flight and invisibility!

"wh-whoa!! what's going on?!?!"

"Just hold on!" You do the majority of the holding as you control your descent, away from all the cop cars below.

You hit the ground running and dash into an alley.
Fortunately, it appears safe.
For now.

The adrenaline soon wears off and you breathe a heavy sigh of relief. The child in your arms is still tense, but at least isn't struggling.
The pain of those 2 or 3 bullets that hit you is starting to hit you.
You sit down, back against the grimy wall.

Scrack clings to you for a little while longer, still afraid. You hold them protectively, though it slows down your own healing slightly.

"It's okay... we're safe now..." you reassure the child.

Scrack begins sobbing quietly. They've been through so much, trying to stay alive since becoming an outlaw.
Overcome with the emotion finally hitting you again, you begin crying too.
The bullets are nothing compared to the weight of the responsibility of a father towards his child.

You selectively phase for a moment, just long enough to make the embedded bullets fall to the ground. Your red blood dully stains your robes, their dark color slightly (but likely not well enough) masking your blood color.

"Scrack... I'll do everything in my power to make sure we both make it through this night. I promise."

Police sirens can be heard echoing in the distance.
You'll resume moving when you're healed up and ready to run again.

Mab, Queen of Winter and Darkness, ruler of the unseelie fae, sighs and swipes across the surface of her crystal ball. The image projected from it changes, showing Pane and the troll child in an alleyway on Alternia. She purses her lips and swipes the image again, getting a different view of the area. Waving a finger, she watches a circle of red toadstools appear on the screen, a few steps away from Pane.

After a number of minutes, you finally stop crying.
Scrack is safe, you know this.
However, you have a mission to fulfil.
You cast prestidigitation to clean the bloodstains off your robe. That way you don't attract any unwanted attention from your blood color.

You then proceed to turn invisible and ascend. You need to get a good look at things from a bird's eye view again.
Flying up above the hivestems, you see Insectopolis spread out before you. Its an eclectic alien city with a vibrant nightlife. However, the police are also prowling all over.

With this in mind, you try to spot that train line.
It doesn't take long to notice it to the north.
You decide to speed off towards it and follow the tracks from the air, still invisible.

Perhaps in the next city over you won't have to worry about police presence.

---

You look down as the hivestems become shorter, and are soon replaced by singular hives of increasing distance.
The wind blows through your hair.
You wonder when the countdown will begin, and everything will become undone. You likely only have, maybe 12 hours left until the meteors, at most? 32 until the Vast Glub? You'd likely be one of the only few that could possibly survive it, but you'd rather not stay that long.
Even being resistant to horrorterror screams, it would still do significant damage to you that would take significant time to heal from.

Its the alarm clock at the end of the world, and you're not about to sleep in on it.

---

Soon enough, a modest looking town forms in the distance. Subgruban lawnrings begin bunching up in tighter formations. Such living conditions designed for isolationist misery.
You descend into Scarab City, and quickly land somewhere behind a building.
You end up behind an 11-7.

It stinks here.

You regain visibility and walk around to the front. Maybe this place has some decent snacks or whatever.

---

You enter the convenience store. A goldblood cashier sits behind the front desk, listening to heavy metal through their headphones. They give you a quick glance before resuming their headbanging.

You look around at the inventory here. Its like looking through a funhouse mirror, where all the snacks you once knew are now transformed into something almost familiar, but irreversibly changed into something otherworldly.
You decide to check the section where the non-edible things are located.
The standard fare can be found here. Scuttlebuggy fresheners, bungee cables, odd looking tapeworm-esque creatures that you can only assume were bred to connect those squishy cellphones to some sort of power source.
You also manage to find a 5 pack of captchalogue cards and a stack modus on sale. You decide not to get those.
However, you do pick up a number of assorted snacks, one of each presumed flavor group that you can think of. you also get this place's version of a slurpee.
You bring your pull to the front counter and pay for your snacks.
"Say, do you know where the storage store would be?"

"STorage STore? EH?"

"I'm not from around here. The place where they sell sylladex products and accessories."

"OH, that place. YOu turn a corner on mantis street and keep going down five blocks until you reach the stoplight. ITs the first store on the left."

"Thank you."

"DOn't mention it."

---

You exit the 11-7 and begin following the directions layed out before you. These streets are a lot quieter than the ones in Insectopolis. Sure, there is the occasional scream in the distance, but its no more harrowing than what you were once used to back at the office.
To believe that you once ran the most miserable company in the furthest ring, according to whoever awards that distinction. You never really payed much attention. The constant miasma of hopelessness made it difficult to focus on much that wasn't important, and even then, you were so driven by hate and suffering...

...you don't want to think more about your days back at voidco.

Soon enough however, you arrive at the place: Inventory Emporium.
That place has got to have what you need.
If they don't, then you can try that shady trolltag you got earlier.

---

You enter the Inventory Emporium. The place is bustling with activity.
Hopefully you can use this to your advantage.
You navigate to where the various fetch modi are located. There's a wide variety, beyond the usual fare.
Puzzle modus, Memory modus, Monopoly modus, Ouija modus, Queuestack modus, Lusus Traversing modus, Encryption modus, scratch n sniff modus... But which would be the best one to pick up as many things as possible?
There has to be something better than this.
You go to the oddball section, filled with more ridiculous modii than the last.
However, before you can check, you get a ping from the memo.