OriginalJolt's fantrollblog

Hellu, Jolt speaking and this be my fantroll-blog!

[mirayama]

"You can kill only once in your life.”

[taimatrolls]

Ron => Get the information.

[taimatrolls]

You follow suit as he show you inside, feeling the dread as the door close behind your back. There is no turning back now, is there. 

Taking a deep breath to calm your nerves, you straighten up a bit and take a seat in the chair. You have to remember why you’re doing this. It’s for Meliss sake. You’ve spent all this time in your apartment, barely going out and feeling sorry for yourself, all while she was out somewhere, assumed dead but living a nightmare.

Trying to find her was the least you could do.

You turn your gaze to the other troll, forcing yourself to look him in the eye and stay calm. He had to see you were serious about this.

“Her name is Meliss Oxylon. She was kidnapped and sold into slavery around 3 sweeps ago, and eventually ended up at The Dollhouse, a brothel. Almost half a sweep ago… She was sold from there, I need to know where she is now.”

You were almost surprised by yourself, that you managed to keep a steady voice through all of that, but there it is. You said it. And you’ve still not faltered with your gaze.

[fantrollternianjolt]

You listen while you enter the name and given information on the husktop and request information from your Network.

“Of course, Sir! Finding trolls is what I do!”

Among other things, you think to yourself.

“Now, before we get ahead of ourselves with this, there is the question of payment.”

Now we’ll see how much of that confidence you’ve got. Your smile deepening somewhat. This is the fun part. You lean back in your chair.

“Not to be judgmental, but unless I am mistaken your account would lean a bit towards...”

You look him up and down, as if to prove your point.

“...the red, so to speak. And last update I got on the Welfare Distribution Protocol is pointing towards that amount being...not so much.”

You feign sympathy like a pro, you should have gone into acting. This is more fun though. And profitable.

“I could be wrong though, you might have a great fortune! Has happened before. But if you don’t have the funds...”

You write out a 5 digit sum on a piece of paper while you talk and slide it over the desk to your might-be “future employer”.

“...I am open to discuss alternative payments. You might have something else to offer?”

You lean forward and show a knowing smile.

[taimatrolls]

Ron => Get the information.

[taimatrolls]

You fidget nervously where you’re standing. It’s not a long wait, but it still feels like it takes ages for the foot steps to reach the door on the other side… But even then, you’re just barely ready when the door finally do open.

He’s a big man, Mangsy. Tall and big boned, you didn’t quite know what you had expected honestly and you take half a step back without thinking about it. Somehow, that smile over his face… Grin even… Doesn’t calm your nerves at all.

“Err… Hello sir.” you start and swallow, your mouth feels dry, but this is your only shot. You have to get this right. 

After a short moment of hesitation, you continue.

“I… There is someone I need to find. I heard you have… Ways to find information.”

There goes nothing. You just hope he won’t show you away like some unwanted stray cat at this point.

[fantrollternianjolt]

You wait until the nervous troll gets to the point.

I know you’ve heard that, no need to tell me, you wouldn’t be here talking to me if you hadn’t, would you? Why are first-timers always so cliché about this. You sigh mentally while gesturing for the young troll to enter, still smiling.

“Of course Sir, you’ve come to the right troll, Mangsy Sslaré, at your service! Just step right in and we can discuss the details!”

Now that you’ve gotten a better look at the short rustblood in front of you, you confirm that he’ll probably not have the funds to hire you, even for something as simple as finding someone. There’s a reason your clientele usually consists of highbloods.

But if I remember correctly who that symbol used to belong to. You think to yourself as you gesture towards one of the two chairs in front of your desk.

“Take a seat! Tell me more of this ‘someone’.”

Then this might just be worth it. You sit down in your chair on the other side of the desk. Preparing to take notes on your husktop.

[taimatrolls]

Ron => Get the information.

@fantrollternianjolt

There is an odd store in Atown. Not odd as in one of those strange corner shops, or crammed in between buildings - sure, Atown had those too, but this was different. 

On the outside it even looked like a quite normal store, the huge difference being the vast amount of things it had to offer. A lot of things that weren’t… Even related to one another. Things that you normally wouldn’t find in the same place, maybe not even the same district, all clumped together in this one place like some sort of maze. Anything for the right price.

That’s it, the right price. In this store you could get nearly anything, for the right price, the slogan said, and rumors told that this may be a bit more… Literally speaking than one would guess. And apparently, the “right price” didn’t always have to be money… If you found the owner, anyway.

Mangsy’s Emporium was the name of the place - and Mangsy Sslaré was the man Ronald D’metle needed to find. 

He had information he needed. Or so he hoped anyway… The sources said there were very few things he didn’t know of…

Ron had been walking around in the shop for what felt like hours, before he finally managed to get an employee to show him the way to the office of their boss. Most had simply ignored him or refused - he was a badly dressed rustblood, what business he had couldn’t possibly be important enough to bother the boss with apparently… Yet, he refused to give in, and eventually, it paid off to be stubborn.

“He’s in there but he might be busy.” the employee grumbled and gestured to a door after leading the redblood through the store. They looked more than eager to leave and get back to work, leaving Ron to whatever business he had.

Ron simply nodded, thanking them silently. Once they finally left, he reached out and knocked on the door.

[fantrollternianjolt]

Your office was quiet, as usual. Not counting the sounds from the pen as you fill in a ledger. You prefer to keep your records in physical form, it’s tradition, your ancestor did so and you see no reason to break over 300 sweeps of accounting history.

In fact, most of your office was part of the history of this place, from the elegant, black, wooden desk with its high backed chair in leather, to the bookshelves covering the entire wall behind it. Extravagant, as an office should be. 

Some things you have added yourself though, like the state of the art husktop sitting right next to the domed display stand on your desk, and the wonderful smell of the cupcakes inside said display. Those who say you can’t mix fun and work are wrong, your baking usually sell for 24.95 a piece on a good day.

As you placed the ledger back in it’s rightful place you heard a knocking on your door.

“I thought I told them I was number crunching and didn’t want to be disturbed.” You sighed as you straightened your suit.

The new employees can’t get anything right. They’re cheap though. You thought as you walked to the door to see what they wanted. You didn’t expect to look down on a young rustblood you didn’t recognize.

What does this rustgrub want? A handout no doubt. You thought as you put on your customary smile. It almost faltered when you saw the symbol on their shirt. THAT on the other hand I do recognize. Well this is going to be VERY interesting. You think as your smile widened to a grin.

“Valued costumer! How may I be of service to you this fine day?” Your voice could give anyone diabetes.

[fantrollternianjolt]

>Be The Murderer

>Standing in the apartment, your hands uncovered, shaking. A shape laying before you. You can’t quite make out what...no, who, it is. You’re surprised you can even make out that it’s a troll. The twisted, barely recognizable form is shivering before you as you look around. This isn’t your home, strange. The pleasant smell reminds you of something though, soothing you enough to get your hands under control.

“ -S-I-Ƨ- Why-y...~

>The thing before you is still alive and breathing, barely. It’s words confuses you and... something else. A fear rises in you like a cold nail being hammered into your gut. Something is wrong, this is wrong, you don’t know what but this is wrong the thing needs to be stop it needs to end to be put out you don’t know why but if it keeps talking you know something bad will happen it must be silenced. 

>You get on your knees and plunge your hands into it, it’s flesh giving way for your fingers, like working with clay. You feel bone bend like rubber and blood vessels separate like loose strings as you get to work, the thing before you writhing underneath your palms.

“-S-I-Ƨ- P-please...~”

>You close your fingers around the life-muscle that is still thumping inside it. You squeeze and feel it straining against you before giving in under your skillful hands. The heap of muscle and bone suddenly thrashes wildly, forcing you to retreat unless want to get hurt with your hands still stuck inside it.

>A few seconds later it stops moving and lets out a last long ragged breath, and then....silence. 

>Something is wrong though, this feeling still has it’s cold grip on you as you hear something behind you. You turn around towards the corridor outside the open apartment door, and you see someone standing outside with fear stretched across his face.

“Wha+ hawe you done?! You sick freak!”

>You don’t understand. He is supposed to be your friend, right? Why would he say something like that? But you know he is right, you know you’ve done something very wrong, something unforgivable. You slowly turn back towards the cold body on the floor, understanding what you have done. What you are.

>A murderer

>You wake up from this nightmare, only to enter another.

[victoriousvocabulary]

AMBISINISTER 

[adjective] 

clumsy or unskillful with both hands. 

Etymology: from Latin; akin to Greek amphí, indicating “both” + sinister, from Middle English sinistre, “unlucky”, from Old French sinistra, “left”, from Latin sinestra, “left hand”.

[Miguel Ministro - Empty] 

[fantrollternianjolt]

I will be gone during the next week, so my long awaited(not really) return will be swiftly followed by another break, though this time it will most probably not be a year long one:P

[fantrollternianjolt]

>Be Annoyed

>You can’t believe it! According to what you’ve heard, you are not nominated for King of the Ball. You were so sure that someone would nominate you after all, you of all trolls deserve that crown! You shouldn’t have to order someone to do it, or even worse, nominate yourself!

Hmm? Hơw prepơsterơus! I can’t believe I left hơme, ơnly tơbe treated like this! - Indeed!

[mother-grub]

“→ s⚲me☿hing wr⚲ng? →”

> You spare the seadweller a curious glance and take a brief puff on your cigarette, being careful to blow the smoke well away from him.

> It’s probably not any of your business, but he looks like he wants to be paid attention to. Hopefully you won’t come to regret this.

[fantrollternianjolt]

>What’s this? You were so annoyed that you did not notice this...blueblood, until he spoke to you. Didn’t even bow or use “Sir”, clearly this troll does not understand your importance. He has the courtesy to direct the smoke away from you, that’s something at least.

Hmm? Well yes, the trơlls at the Yule Ball has nơ understanding ơf the impơrtance ơf the title Ball King, ơr tơ whơm the title shơuld belơng! - Quite So!

[fantrollternianjolt]

@taimatrolls has done it again! U da best! lookatdatfish!

[trollplay]

12th Perigee Ball Asks:

Send my troll a symbol for their thoughts on the #12th perigee ball 2015:

★: What is your troll doing at the ball? Are they attending or working? If they are attending, are they a regular attendant or a VIP? Were they nominated for ball king or queen? What is your troll wearing? ❅:  Does your troll have a date? If so, did they ask their date, or did their date ask them? If not, was there someone they wanted to ask, or do they prefer going alone? ✩:  What part of the ball is your troll looking forward to the most? The dancing, music, food, hanging out with guests, or the ball king and queen? ❄: Does your troll know anyone else at the ball? Have they ever met the nominees for king and queen before? ✯: What does your troll plan to do after the ball? Do they have any plans with their dates, or are they hoping to find one? Or are they just going to go home and sleep?

(Symbols for copy pasting:★❅✩❄✯)

[fantrollternianjolt]

>Be Annoyed

>You can’t believe it! According to what you’ve heard, you are not nominated for King of the Ball. You were so sure that someone would nominate you after all, you of all trolls deserve that crown! You shouldn’t have to order someone to do it, or even worse, nominate yourself!

Hmm? Hơw prepơsterơus! I can’t believe I left hơme, ơnly tơbe treated like this! - Indeed!

[fantrollternianjolt]

>Be Monjel, or Derise

>You sit at your table, facing the door, like always. You’re tired as you haven’t gotten enough sleep these last few days, your locked-in caretaker has been causing more ruckus than usual. The door rattles once again.

||Pleaϟe go back to  ϟleep...||

>The door thumps twice more, and then goes silent. You look up hoping that it has tired itself enough to stop for the moment. You sigh as your home is plunged into silence.

>Actually, scratch that, you hear something. Coming from the other door, the one leading out into the corridor. You rise up and try to rub the exhaustion from your eyes as you approach.

> Is that...laughter? It feels like it’s been forever since you heard someone laugh. And you also hear voices...

>...

> ...RONALD? You stare at the door for a few seconds before you step up and look through the peephole. Nothing, after all he lives on the floor below, but that voice was definitely him. This might be it! If I can get down there and speak to him, if I can just explain, face-to-face, then maybe...maybe everything will...

>You grab the door handle and

>and nothing. Frozen, staring at your fist around the metal. If I touch him I know what will happen. You try to turn the handle but your arm is as if made of lead. The door to your left creaks as it is hit with another THUMP.

||c’mon juϟt turn, pleaϟe. I’ve gotten it under control, it wo-||

>Creak? You snap to attention as your eyes dart to the other door.

||H-hello?||

>No answer. You let go of the handle and reach over to feel the locks on the other door. Still holding. A shuffling is heard from withing the other room. Sounds like your lusus has tired itself enough.

>You sigh with relief before you look back towards the exit. Can’t even turn a handle. Worthless. You sink down with your back against the prison you’ve made for your only companion in this home. As you pull your knees up to your face you try to hold back the tears.

>And the crack in the doorframe goes unnoticed, for now.

[taimatrolls]

I had an unused front-facing talksprite base since my last commission, since I first drew it front-facing before changing it to half-turned to the side…

Conveniently, my friend fantrollternianjolt's birthday is pretty soon, so I used it for his cutey Elsand as an early birthday gift. vuv

Enjoy!

[fantrollternianjolt]

TAIMA YOU JUST KEEP DOING STUFF AND ITS COOL AND CUTE AND AWESOME AND THANK YOU!

[sebiht]

[fantrollternianjolt]

And then it posted it three times in a row…

[fantrollternianjolt]

going away for a week

Ok probably last time I can write here in over a week. Going to Egypt for 8 days.

Fkin phone, have tried to post this three times already without success -.-‘

[fantrollternianjolt]

Sighs... really wish I could partake in the Ball, but I'm at my parents place on my phone and no wifi so Internet is limited :-(