Chapter Text
The never ending ping of incoming notifications blasted loudly from the one side of the respitblock, an indignant grunt the only response until a thick pile of cloth that had perhaps originally been a blanket, was tossed on top of the practically screaming husk top. A low growl could be heard as the towering troll shuffled back towards their recuperacoon that sat in the corner of their room, shoulders slumped forward and feet hitting several half empty cups filled with various liquids and sending them skittering across the floor. Once they had reached the corner where they slept when they were actually trying to sleep, Mercil shrugged off their glue and paint covered shirt that smelled as if it had been worn perhaps 5 days too many, tossing it aside. The very worn article of clothing slumped sadly amongst the piles of projects and tools, not that the sleep deprived troll had any plans to pay that any mind, not right now at least.
It had easily been two clean shirts ago since Mercil had slept more than a wink or two while leaning against their desk, only to be startled awake by a stream of messages on their husk top. This wasn't anything new for them, hadn't been in well over a sweep, but their piss poor excuse of a sleep schedule had only gotten worse since he waltzed back into their life, or rather, resurfaced from some hidden place only to weasel his way back into the realm of the living. Maybe, just maybe, Mercil could have handled that, it had been ages since he committed his crimes against them and those they loved, but he had spent nearly every waking moment messaging them, clogging their notifications with his repugnant cerise text that incited rage almost as surely as anything he tried to say.
The now distant sounding pings still called out, muffled under their fabric prison, but Mercil was doing their best to tune out the noise. They felt bad because ignoring him meant not always answering those that actually mattered, the ones they actually considered friends or otherwise, but they hoped to rectify that soon. With the game they would all be playing scheduled to begin shortly, the purple blooded troll hoped the imp of a creature that constantly bothered them these days would be too distracted by not dying to try to beg for forgiveness, or try to convince them that he was the one who needed to do the forgiving.
The oncoming threat of drones had their entire group on edge what with their 9th sweep alive bringing everyone's instincts to a crazed stir. Even with the promise of the game and supposed freedom, none of them were spared from the urge to fill their quadrants, not even the failed prince who would be culled no matter the outcome. Mercil was positive that's why he was badgering them at any given moment, trying to stir their rivalry back to life from the ashes that had long since ceased burning. Honestly, even thinking about him in passing was enough to make their cheeks burn hot with anger, hot enough that purple showed under their far too old covering of chipped white paint as platonic hatred bubbled up from the depths of their being.
Gripping the opening of their recuperacoon and trying to think of something else besides finishing their failed attempt to murder their once friend, once lover, Mercil hefted themselves inside the somewhat too small entrance and sank into the warm and inviting slime, some splashing over the edge to join the older ooze at the base of the contraption. Getting a bigger 'coon was definitely on the docket as their horns grazed the top and their shoulders pressed against the sides rather uncomfortably, but that was a later problem. They normally did everything they could to avoid sleeping anyway, but now, even their waking hours were nightmares and no amount of never ending crafts could stop that. A long and deep sigh escaped past their face paint encrusted lips, eyes slowly shutting as the notifications were finally forgotten.
Once asleep, bright golden light filled the sky outside Mercil's window, but only for the briefest of moments. Almost as soon as the warm embrace of Prospit had welcomed Mercil home with the promise of warming their cold edifice of a body, it was gone again. Replacing the bright warmth was a purple haze peeking through gaps in… were those, boards? Blinking their eyes for a moment, they stumbled towards the arch, realizing shortly it was a window, their window in fact. Grumbling to themselves, they pulled their fist back only to send it crashing through the planks of wood, prying several of the splintered boards free to reveal the constant shrouded darkness of Derse. Brushing the shrapnel off their hands and pink tinted shirt that stood out starkly against their red and maroon striped pants that matched the pair they wore while awake, Mercil rolled their eyes and turned to look back at their room, dim light flickering in past the broken wood.
Gazing around the room, the space was exactly as Mercil remembered, even though they hadn't been there in a very long time. They supposed their absence had given the locals hope that they were gone for good, even Mercil had entertained the thought that they would not return, but alas, they had always known they would be back eventually. This was their curse, to dream in two separate places with little to no say where they would arrive when they did eventually close their heavy eyelids. Sure, prospit was bright and far too bustling for their liking on a good day, but at least it wasn't so damn loud.
It took the exhausted troll a moment to fully notice the never ending wails that some described as whispers, but they wasted none of their precious time listening to them. Lunging past the desk across from their rather large sleeping platform, Mercil turned on the massive stereo system they had just for this purpose. Sure, it was bulky and old fashioned, but it had a certain quality about it that proved incredibly effective at nearly completely drowning out the horror terrors above them. Once the cacophony was lessened to background noise, Mercil was able to turn their eyes to all of their old projects that they had left unfinished since the last time they had dreamt here. They really had their work cut out for them seeing as the art was well over a sweep old by now, but, as they were often wont to believe, there was no time like the present.
Somewhere within earshot in a tower nearly identical to Mercil's, a much smaller troll sat at his desk, a slight smile playing at the corner of his lips as he made plans for the game they were all working on playing, doing his best not to think about what should happen if they failed to play. It was sure to be fun, and a welcome distraction from the looming threat of filial pails, but nerves still ran ragged in his mind. He would be seeing his moirail in person for the first time should the game be how it was described. Moirail? Matesprit? He wasn't even sure at this point, but they were probably something to say the least if their usual chats had anything to say about it, but it was confusing to think about.
Their relationship, if it was one, matched more than one quadrant type according to everything he had read. Ren was 9 sweeps old now, and each passing day had his instincts screaming at him to fill his quadrants, the strange entangled feelings he felt for Mercil making his thinkpan buzz if he didn't distract himself. He supposed they could be vacillating, but no, that was probably too good to be true, especially since he hadn't heard from them in a few days but he was doing his best not to think about it. The pulse in his veins always quickened when he imagined why the other hadn't responded. Maybe they had grown tired of him, or worse, the drones had finally made their way to Mercil's seaside hive. Shaking his head and taking in a shaky breath, he told himself they were just busy, yes, that was probably it.
Renard, or Ren, as his friends called him, the few that he had, was distracted from his plans and fussing by a foreign sound wafting in from outside. Actually taking a moment to listen to something other than his own racing thoughts and the pulse that thumped against his ear drums, the rather small troll realized he could barely hear the gods now. Instead, he heard what could only be described as music. He couldn't help but be confused as, to his knowledge, he was the only one awake so far, not that he ever really bothered to leave his tower and check. Ren rose from his seat, a curious yet worried look etched on his face as he floated towards the window. He hardly ever bothered with things like walking here on the rare occasion he left his desk, Derse not being bound by something as ridiculous as physics.
Pausing a moment, he took as deep a breath as he could manage before leaving out through the open window. Even with the ability to fly, the height of his tower was enough to make him dizzy if he thought too hard about it. Following the sound of the music, it wasn't long before he found himself staring at one of the towers he had sworn was empty before now according to his wistful stares from his room, its windows boarded up. Now, splintered wood blocked only part of the window which was much larger than his own. It was odd, now that he thought about it, as most towers were normally perfect replicas of one another, at least, all of the ones closer to him were.
From within the room where the music was loud enough it was nearly tangible, the bass sending waves through the air all about him, Renard could see hurried movement. At first, fear gripped him tightly enough that he nearly fell from the air, thinking that one of the Dersite agents had ransacked the room in search of something. Before he could fly off in search of safety, a flash of red caught his eye. That was odd to say the least as the occupants of Derse tended towards clothing themselves in hues of purple and pink and not the bold red striping he had seen.
Floating closer, the red became visible again and a wave of relief washed over his mind as realization hit him. Grinning ear to ear with all other thoughts thrown from his pan at record breaking speeds, he rushed through the opening in the window, the broken wood far enough away that it didn't even touch him. That was probably for the best as unfortunately, dream selves could still be harmed no different than in the waking world. Before Mercil even realized what was happening, the smaller troll flew into them, tightly wrapping his arms around their waist. Shock flooded Mercil's system, a low growl rumbling up from their chest as they were about to fight whatever it was that had attacked them. Luckily for Ren, it didn't take the highblood long to realize what, or rather, who, the small figure latched onto them was as they looked down to see two small curled horns nestled in a mess of black hair. The growl that had taken up residence in their throat faded quickly as a giddy laugh replaced it, snarl twisting into a wide grin with sharp teeth that was surprisingly soft.
Long muscular arms pulled the smaller of the two further up Mercil's body so that they could pepper kisses on Ren's face that now had a dark orange blush that nearly matched the spattering of freckles that dotted his cheeks and nose. Even having never seen one another in person, descriptions and old photos had flooded their long chats on trollian enough for both trolls to recognize the other. Mercil spun him around for a moment, laughing with pure unadulterated joy before coming to a stop. It was too late for Ren to back away now and be a nervous wreck, he really didn't think this through. How could he be sure Mercil hadn't actually been avoiding him for some reason the past few days now that he was sure they hadn't been culled? Maybe his pale and flushed solicitations had gone too far despite having been sure they were in some way reciprocated. Sure, the risk he took was calculated, but damn was he bad at math. Still, the weird combination of emotions Ren was feeling was all worth the fact that Mercil was here, right here with him and definitely alive. Even that was both amazing and terrifying, Derse wasn't exactly safe.
"How are you here!?" Ren eventually managed to squeak out, his accent thicker than he meant it to be as he reached up a hand to caress Mercil's face, pausing before he touched them. The blush spreading across his cheeks only darkened as he realized what he was about to do. He wasn't even sure if he and Mercil were together in that way, or if they were, in what quadrant, and he was about to touch them. Before Ren could pull his hand away, Mercil pressed their face into his palm and let out a happy high pitched trill that didn't seem to match the rest of their visage. Luckily, here on Derse their face paint was just a projection otherwise the tiny troll's hand would have been covered in white and purple as they nuzzled against him and gently kissed his hand.
Ren sputtered, trembling the only thing he could manage as he watched the troll he had up until now only talked to online act as if this was their 100th time seeing one another in person and not the first. "Does it matter?" Mercil asked after a moment, their own much more southern accent thick in their sleepy voice, turning their head to smile at him with half lidded eyes. Being so close to proper adulthood, their eyes were a surprisingly dark shade of purple that matched the tongue in their mouth, visible thanks to the sleepy grin that looked down at Ren with more than their share of adoration. That face should have been illegal, making Ren's pusher feel as if it would beat out of his chest. Maybe it would, then at least he wouldn't be making an absolute fool of himself. "I.. well I…" Ren said softly, swallowing down the lump in his throat and almost completely forgetting his worries that perhaps Mercil had been avoiding him in exchange for slightly less ridiculous worries, "i-it isn't s-safe here… Derse is… d-dangerous".
Sighing quietly, Mercil let Ren go from their tight grasp and left him hovering in midair before turning to walk towards the desk. He floated behind them closely, wondering if he had offended them, wringing his hands with nervous anticipation. This whole situation was confusing, he wasn't even sure how Mercil had their striped red pantaloons here and not a matching set of purple pajamas like the rest of those who woke up here wore. At least their shirt was the pinkish purple he was used to, albeit it oddly had spots where it almost seemed to be stained yellow. Everything about this confused him, even the mountain of a troll rifling through desk drawers to pull out various posters of some sort.
With a handful of papers, Mercil spun and held them out to the other who slowly reached forward to take them. Each poster had a different image of Mercil on it with the word "WANTED" written under it in bold letters, different ransom amounts at the very bottom. As he looked through them, it was almost like watching Mercil through the sweeps, the top looking most like them now with their tattoos and piercings, certain attributes being added or disappearing as he went down the stack towards the oldest of the posters. At the very bottom, the Mercil he saw on the page looked angry, and yet, so very sad. It was a much different look than the tired one they wore now.
It was a few minutes before the silence was broken, "You are… a wanted criminal here?", Ren asked in a soft tone, his face in awe as he looked back up at Mercil. What in the world had they managed to do in order to be considered a criminal? In his shock, he had sunk back down to the floor, the tree of a troll standing at nearly twice his size, his eyes level with their stomach. Ren's eyes went out of focus for a moment, his brain going fuzzy with the deep seated urges of the oncoming drone season pushing their way to the forefront of his mind. When Ren's vision finally came back into focus, his eyes strayed rather low before the heat in his face made him come back to his senses and he forced his gaze several feet back up to Mercil's face. If they had noticed, they didn't mention anything, although a slight smirk did crease the edge of their mouth, not that Ren could tell from this angle.
"Yeah, somethin' like that" the reply eventually came, the twang in their voice sounding both aloof and mischievous. Bending down to get a better look at their small counterpart, Mercil chuckled softly and brushed their hand across his cheek, "point is, ya don't gotta worry 'bout me hun. Before my dumb ass got whisked back to Prospit when I went to sleep, I dreamed here for a few sweeps. I guess, I still do now. Somehow, I dream on th' both of 'em, but that's not the point right now. Normally, I would be doin' crafts til I woke up, but normally I ain't got company"
If Ren's face wasn't dark enough from blushing before, it definitely was now, his knees shaking as Mercil bent down further to kiss his forehead. With the other's face being so close to his own, Ren was doing his best not to do a very convincing imitation of a melted popsicle. "So, darlin', what do you think we could do to pass th' time, hmm?" Mercil asked with a low gravelly tone to their voice as they gently caressed Ren's cheek once more with a lopsided grin on their face. He was definitely going to fail at not imitating a melted popsicle, well, at least, most of him was.