#croleplays

[cawfiendtrolls]

Two dumb boys trying to date

[cawfiendtrolls]

So, every sweep my base THrows THis tacKy "Halloween party" for all local Fleet personnel, and it's essentially an excuse to drinK on THe job and mingle wiTH your fellow recruits in a non-professional setting. -kkksh

I'm not really a "party goer" by any means, so I've never gone before. -kkksh

THis time, though, my buddy guilted me into going, and he promises we’ll have fun, but... -kkksh

> Sigh

THe problem is, you have to dress up before THey'll let you in, and I have no idea what to go as. -kkksh

I already tried to pitch "Fleet guard" to him, since, y’Know, I already have THe costume and everyTHing, but NeeKoh said THat was a no-go. -kkksh

Ughh, what am I going to do. -kkksh

[cawfiendtrolls]

Table for Two (Open RP)

Lycuss wasn't always in trouble, like everyone seemed to think.

The way he saw it, bad luck just seemed to follow him around like a bad shadow; knocking shoulders with another highblood who thought Lycuss needed to learn how to walk by punching him in the face, wandering into the bad part of town only to be chased out, getting denied service just because he looked shifty. In his head, it felt like the list went on and on, all things that weren't his fault, things that made him feel like a victim of some kind of curse. He was a good guy, why did this always happen?

Too bad this wasn't one of those times.

He hadn't meant to lift someone's wallet. Well, he hadn't meant to get caught doing it. Usually, it was a awkward bump, a slip of the hand, and profuse apologies that left the other person hustling away to avoid any more confrontation. This time, though, he had hit someone a little too hard, put his hand into their pocket a little too deep, and when they caught eyes of their property in his sticky fingers, it had really gone off. One good sucker punch to the face, and Lycuss knew this wasn't a fight he was ready for. So he did what any other sensible troll would do.

Run for it!!

One bruised jaw and one wallet heavier, long legs took him off the street and into the busier parts of the city. When bobbing and weaving through the crowd didn't shake his assailant, he was quick to dive into the open door of the closest diner he saw, slipping in past the groups waiting for a table, and straight to the hostess.

“Just meeting a friend... Oh! There they are!” His voice was breathy, chest heaving with all the running he had just done, and before the hostess could argue, he was striding into the restaurant, around the group of tables, and slide right into the booth across from... Someone eating alone! Oh, how sad! “Hey, this seat taken?” He flashed a handsome smile, quick to grab up a menu from the end of the table, and propped it up to hide behind, like the saddest game of peekaboo that had ever been.

“Hey, just be cool, babe. I just gotta, you know, I'm avoiding someone, y'know how it is, right?” He smiled again, eyes peering from behind the menu to watch his mark run right by. Nice. Safe.

That was, if the person at this table didn't try to kill him next...

[cawfiendtrolls]

So, my moirail won’t message me baCK, I thinK he might be busy with something else. (He’s always busy.)

But I’ve been having some weird stuff happen around my hive. I don’t want to jinx myself or anything, but I thinK it might be...

You Know...

(A ghost)

LiKe, I don’t Know if it is or not, but stuff Keeps falling off my shelves, and sometimes it sounds liKe someone is walKing upstairs, but only my lusus is up there, and when he walKs, it sounds totally different. I Keep CatCHing weird smudges when I taKe piCtures, I thinK?

Anyone have... LiKe... Ghost training?

[cawfiendtrolls]

Deck the Holley (Closed RP)

In the Fleet, you were never really off duty, but you definitely had to check in and check out to your posts, so maybe it was like going on to extra duty, and then checking out to less duty?

Whatever it was, Proxid had checked himself onto day duty right on time, like a good fleet boy. The best part about this job, if you could call it that, was that he never did the same thing two days in a row. One day he would be out on the base grounds, pacing the boarders back and forth to make sure nothing odd was happening; he could be in the large ship hangers to make sure everyone boarding was supposed to be on board- no stowaways; and some days, like today, he found himself out at the little check-point booth at the base’s main entrance. He was to check credentials and shipments to make sure everything and everyone was coming in was clean, and he would check people out as they left, just to keep tabs on who was coming and going.

He didn’t complain much, but this assignment might have been his least favorite. He sat out in a little lone booth set between the big outer fence that encompassed the base. He would check in vehicles and foot traffic, argue with recruits that had missed curfew and thought he owed them a cover up, and for most of the day, would stair off into the empty, sun-bleached road. You could see the town from here, but it got harder the further up the sun went.

It was the day shift, but he started that shirt at the very tail end of the evening. The moons were just about set, and the horizon tinged with the impending sunrise. There was a little bit of a hustle as the last few trolls returned from a night out, and once they were checked in and through the gate, he was left alone. It was peaceful, he always thought, and sitting in the little air conditioned guard box wasn’t the worse way to spend his day. 

@gold-bloods

[cawfiendtrolls]

Whump (Open RP)

It’s not often you go off base, and even less often that you go into town during the evening, as opposed to wandering through in broad daylight. It’s less crowded then, but there aren’t as many stores open.

You want to say that you’re used to the snappy comments and hard looks you get for wearing such blatant Fleet garb, but each sideways glance and clipped word brings you closer and closer to panic. Best to get in, do your business, and leave, as quickly as possible.

After a particularly tense transaction with a convenience store clerk, you’re dead set on getting back to base as fast as possible. Speed, however, is not always beneficial. You exit the little street-side shop like a screechbeast out of hell, and with a glance back, you round the door to hustle down the sidewalk when...

WHUMP

You run head long into a poor pedestrian, your wobbly, bio-mechanical legs the only reason you don’t clatter to the ground. Your mask hides your surprised, apologetic expression, but you’re quick to speak up.

“Oh! I apologize, are you alright?... You really SHould watch where you're going...”

[cawfiendtrolls]

The Good Word (RP)

He used to have have a nice hive uptown. It had three stories and a balcony, and even it's own little plot of land! His closest neighbor was up a hill, and the foot traffic was all but non-existant in the nice highblood subgrub.

Things like that were fleeting, however. All it took was a long losing streak, and an even longer streak of desperation before he had slapped down his hive as collateral in a bunk game of cards. He was pretty sure he had been cheated out of it, but when a big blueblood held a gun to your head, it was hard to make a good arguement.

Lycuss still had a hive, but he had had to downgrade a little... Alright, a lot. His new hive was a little rickety little building smashed between an old laundromat and a hivestem that had clearly seen better times. The foot traffic was still slow on the outskirts of town, but his neighbors were much closer, and often times, much less savory. Was it unusual to have three locks on your door? Not when you had a number of loansharks on your back. The front of the hive was a dingy cement, green lichen clinging to the wet stone around the stoop. It was one story, the only window visible a tiny thing above the door that let in the dim light of the streetlamps.

The inside wasnt much better, but that was his own fault. Clothes were left in the basket they had come back from the laundry in, dirty clothes on the floor beside it. There were boxes filled with papers, books, and other junk stacked along the walls, empty bottles and unopened mail cluttering up the single coffee table in the center of his tiny livingroom. A little TV babbled at one corner of the room, the hive's only occupant draped over the little couch at the other side. He wasnt really a home body, but after the previous day's extravagant events, a night in was just enough to cure what ailed him- in this case, a splitting headache and some scabbed up knuckles.

But even that wasnt enough to keep him stuck inside all night. He just needed some fresh air, just to clear his head! He stepped out onto the stoop of his hive, door ajar, hiis back curved in a soft "S" against the doorframe. He took a long breath of the cool evening air, his hands dipping into the pockets of his loose loungey pants for a pack of cigarettes.

(( @gold-bloods ))

[cawfiendtrolls]

(( Quince is a fucking asshole but also he likes his new friend??? Maybe??? ))