The First Guardian

You jump again. Crap, she found out. How did she do that?

TT and BA chat log:

You sigh and lean back, running your hands through your hair. If she found out what you had....you shake your head as fast as you could.

You let out a little squeak of interest as you type your reply, having a fondness for game when you and your moirail play. You don't let him know, but you have a number of horror games in your library that may or may not be part of the reason you're such a fraidy mouse.

TT and BA chat log:

BA: The kind of game you aren't interested in.

You are sweating profuosly now. You read deeper into the guide, and you know that you can't leave Yunare behind. If you did she would die. But if you told her and you two played....she still might die. You bang your head on the desk rapidly. You hated tough choices!

You puff out your cheeks a bit, letting out a little grunt of disapproval at the rejection you're moirail just gave you. You quickly type up your reply, having a feeling there was something going on.

TT and BA chat log:

Your seat shakes under you. What was with her? She was usually so quiet and timid. But this persistence....
It's not that you aren't proud of her. You have been trying for many sweeps to coax her out of her shell. But did she have to now?

BA: I promise you.
BA: You won't like it.
BA: It's full of....
BA: Killing.
BA: And mousetraps.
BA: Lots and lots of mousetraps.

At the message from BA, you frown and pick up your Lusus, cuddling with her as you imagine the traps. Your surprising persistence immediately begins to leave you, ask you shrink a bit in fear of the game.

Chat log 2:

You wait for the reply, feeling like you don't really want to play the game anymore....though you were confused why your moirail wasn't trying to push you to be braver, and not trying to make it sound not as bad....

BA: Yeah!
BA: Just a game!
BA: Hahahaha!

You whack your hands on the desk. You were just making this worse!

BA: But hey!
BA: You were braver than normal. I'm proud of you.

A quick subject change usually worked. You sigh, wondering what you were gonna do. Maybe....you could just show her the Guide?

BA: Here. I'll show you the game.

You send a link to her before minimizing Pesterchum, opening the email again. You guess it couldn't hurt to see what it was like. You swallow loudly before clicking on the client link.

Unknown to you, however, is the fact that you just sent her the folder with both games inside of it. What can you say, you're blind! And you don't know. You just watch as the loading screen pops up.

You wait a little bit, simply staring at the files in fear, your imagination running wild. Her Lusus fidgeted a bit, but didn't move to much out of fear Yunare would crush her.

Taking a deep breath, she quickly clicked the files and then backed away, instinctual putting distance between her and the perceived danger.

After a little time passed, the folder was completed, and it opened for her, revealing three files. After being sure there was nothing there to scare you, you went over and went to click the guide, to get an idea of what it was. However you accidentally clicked the server application, and it opened under the guide so you don't see it begin the installation process.

Chat log 2:

You then realize the server has been running, you sit there, mesmerized by the loading screen, and wait for it to finish.

BA:...I'm sorry. It's just....
BA: Wait, what happened?
BA: TT?

You minimize the loading screen, worried about your moirail. Just then, a notification popped up.

duelingThoughts [DT] is online

Who was this guy now? Might as well find out.

blindAuthor [BA] began pestering duelingThoughts [DT]
BA: Greetings!
BA I may not know who you are, but I like to say hello to people I don't know.

While you wait for, well, everything, you rise out of your chair, walking around the room. Pacing didn't help with anything, but you still did it. Occasionally, you would captchaluge something to your Braille Modus. You stop moving when you realize you were doing that.

You try cancelling the program, but it simply kept moving on, moving faster it seemed. You panic a little, and push the husk top away from you. You then quickly pull it back to yourself.

Chat log 2:

You start to breath quickly, rapidly trying everything you could to close the program, but you didn't want to break the system fearing you'd lose contact with your moirail forever.

You sit down at your computer, taking note that the client whatchamacallit finished loading. You reopen Pesterchum, only to see your moirail's freak out session.

BA: TT. Calm down.
BA: You didn't destroy the world. If anyone did, it was probably me.
BA: You did nothing wrong. Besides, how did you even get it?
BA: I only sent you the guide.

You place your face in your hands, groaning in frustration. You might as well have sent the game to everyone! In fact, you'll do just that. As soon as you figure out how to.

Right now, your moirail was the most important thing. You divert your attention to her.

You try to calm down with the words of your moirail, taking deep breaths and hugging her knees, having let her mouse Lusus run off to her own little hidey hole.

Chat log 2:

The panic started setting in again, your body beginning to rock back and forth, fumbling for pencil's and paper to try and vent your fear into art.

Your moirails words confuse you. Highbloods? What in the nine hells was she talking about?

BA: TT, what are you talking about?
BA: Why would anyone cull you? That's a troll thing.

You stop typing at that. She had to be joking....Your hands shake, and your jaw drops. Was she....no she couldn't be....

You get out of your chair, running out of the room. Your sis was in the kitchen, cooking god knows what. You couldn't go in there; she would bombard you with dumb questions and offers of make overs.

You are also confused by your moirails words, having thought all trolls knew and feared culling. You respond to him, a little confused and your panic numbed by said confusion.

Chat log 2:

You let out a loud squeek in terror, realization hitting you harder then anything else ever has. You pull your knees under your sweater, and back away from the husk top, thinking of burning it and the evidence. You had committed treason by talk with a human, and even went as far as entering a pale relationship with one. Your hand went to your mouth and began roughly chewing on you index finger, quickly drawing your yellow blood as your panic overrode your sense of pain.

Images of highblood barging in were in your mind, and you started to breath in and out rapidly, wishing you had something to hold onto to keep you stable.

Your name is Jace Harlan, and you are at a loss for words.

Recently, you discovered that your moirail, who you had been with for...you can't even remember how long you have been together. But you recently learned that she is your worst enemy. Humanity's worst enemy.

She is a troll.

You bring your hand to your mouth, a churning in your stomach bringing you to your knees. You can hear your Sis call you, but you can't make out her words. What would you do? You were in a RELATIONSHIP with a TROLL. It didn't matter if she was the nicest troll, or if she shared the same interests as you.

None of it mattered.

Images of the police--no the MILITARY--breaking your door down. They would storm in, guns at the ready, and shoot you down. You don't know which is worst: the realization of your moirail's species or the fact that you can perfectly imagine your death.

Somewhere downstairs the TV is on. You can faintly hear the reporter talk about asteroids heading for Alternia, but you don't pay any attention to it.

Maybe if you stopped talking to her? You bite your bottom lip. That wasn't possible. You don't know where you'd be without her. It was TT who helped you through the blindness, who stopped you from being some dark and depressing, well, anything. TT was the one who stopped you from....you shake your head of that image. It bothers you that death is so light to you that you can see yours clearly.

Destroy the computer? The government probably already has records of it. They probably had a file of him, labeling him as a traitor or a terrorist. They probably thought he was a troll.

TT was a troll. The same species as those who killed your closest friends.

What was this war even about! You pound the ground with your fist, tears streaming out of your eyes. It was a new feeling. You hadn't cried in years.

=>

Somehow you find yourself back in your room, sitting at the same device that sealed your fate. The loading screen for the game thing was at 98%. You watch it, still and lifeless. Your cheeks are tear stained, but you ignore it. Pesterchum was open to the side. You constantly re-read your moirail's most recent, probably her last, message. You could practically feel the fear and aprehension from your moirail--would she be your ex?--as it finally makes sense of why she was culled.

You reach forward and begin typing.

BA: My name is Jace Harlan.
BA: I'm Seventeen years old, or approximately 8.5 sweeps to you.
BA: I am a human. And I am blind.
BA: Unlike the trolls, my blood is red. All of our blood is red.
BA: We live to be about 80 years old on average, while you live many millenia.
BA: I guess we just suck huh?
BA: I don't know what point I'm trying to make.
BA: But isn't cool that, despite our differences, that we were able to enter a relationship?
BA: Albeit a pale one, but we did it.
BA: I guess different cultures, much less species, isn't a very strong force huh?

You stop typing. What were you doing? TT might be afraid of everything, but she was also capable of hate. And not romantic hate, you tend to avoid that. But if she did hate you, it would be dark and evil and purely platonic. She might go as far as to kill you. Despite being on different sides of the globe. You place your face into your hands.

Today was gonna be a long day.

You sat there simply, staring at the husk top with wide eyes, having stopped chewing on her finger when the pain settled in to her mind. A human....A HUMAN! She had not only conversed with, but became pale partners with one of the enemies, the lesser race of Alternia. You had comforted him, had feelings jams with him, and not once did you ever figure out he was a human. Any second now you knew the highbloods were gonna kick in your door and cull you for the traitorous slime you are.

You were in the midst of a panic induced hyperventilation, when your trollian chirped and you saw your moirail....you mean the human Jace...?

He was contacting you , and you couldn't see from where you were, but you hoped he was saying it was all a joke and that of course he was a troll like her, and was just playing a cruel prank on her.

You scooted forward and quickly read the messages, and let out a small whine as you realized it wasn't a joke, it was real. You felt like evacuating your stomach, the stress was so intense. You were tempted to just burn the computer, but found your hands gliding over the keyboard, and typing your response. You were letting tiny whispering curses, wishing with all your might that Jace was just a troll, so you wouldn't have to deal with this....you then start wishing you were a human, so you could live safely with him without all this fear you seem to breath in.

Chat log 2:

You could feel tears rolling down your cheeks, more yellow to stain the floors....all to be hidden when the Highbloods came, by even more yellow. You wished so much to be with Jace right now, so they could have a proper feelings jam over this....and not something over the internet

==> Morse code: sudden interruption

Chat Log::

You were about to respond to your moirail, who needed you. But two things stopped you.

1. Was she still your moirail? You felt as if you trusted her, but...she was a troll and....oh this is complicated!

2. Morse code suddenly appeared.

The Morse code was a surprise. You could read it, but barely. It sort of translated too:

DB?OALLAVARNINGHUMANNAVELARMYCROSSINGBORDERUNHINDEREDBRACEYOURSELV

Like you said before, you were rusty. You aren't sure you can even respond, seeing as you can't differentiate the spaces in the message. God being blind sucked. You wring your fingers out in aprehension. What do you do?

Jace: Completely freak out

Now WOULD be the appropriate time....

More morse code floods the chat logs of the pesterchum and trollian servers world wide.

Chat Logs::

unbeknownst the troll doing so is unaware of his impact.

"... gog darn-it hov long am i going to have to do vis vor?"

you look around to see if you can find something to mess with to past the time.
it wasn't like you'll get a response from a device like this so you jump into some of the old storage boxes left by the previous inhabitants.
you step away from the telegrapher and step towards an old dusty box labeled antiques.

"I vonder vhat goodies i could vind in here?"

Oroelo waited with held breath, hoping for an answer. However, the sudden intrusion of a third person to their conversation sort of set her off. Triggered her if you will. Upon seeing the third person speak, she lost it. In a flash, she flipped the fuck out, and threw her Husk top from her. She then began to frantically barricade every entry point in her home, thanking her Lusus for having her build a home under ground.

Jace: Respond to your moirail

After you have finished flipping the fuck out, you manuever around the debris and carnage that you cause. It was a complete accident, you swear!

You sit at your desk, the only thing that wasn't destroyed. You don't notice the countdown on the game. Nor do you realize that this mystical third person could get the game if he wanted it. You just focus on the yellow text.

BA: My shitty government couldn't do anything to me even if they tried.
BA: Don't worry about me.
BA: I'm just wondering how to save you from your brutal one.
BA: And to the Morse code person, can you read this?
BA: If so, please speak normally, because I can't read that.

You hear knocking downstairs and freeze. This quickly? You hoped that it was one of your Sis's annoying friends. For once, you actually prayed that it was your Sis's annoying ass friend.

You didn't reply, still setting up you cautionary defenses around your hive for what you assumed was an inevitable Highblood culling team. Illusions of various monsters and horrifying things began to fill the room, her Psionic's going haywire from all the stress she was going through.

Chat Log 3:

after hours of looking through an old dusty box you only find one object that has peeked you intrest. an old floppy disk made by those humans that attacked you earlier.
labeled on it was the title sburb and taped to it is a old manual book with instructions on how to start the game
...
you decide to leave it alone and go back to morse coding.
you aren't sure why you haven't got a response but maybe if you try a smaller sentence you may, just may get a response.

Morse Code 2:

Jace: Escape

You weren't gonna take any chances. You slide your laptop, which you weren't supposed to have due to illegal codification and hacking attempts, from under your bed and go to your window. There was a ladder that you hung up a few years back. It was supposed to be an escape route, but you never used it. Until now.

You were often told how adapted you were for a blind person. It grew on you; it was like you weren't even blind. Except that you can't see. You walk the beaten path down to the shed that your Sis rented. She would probably come after you. Not that you cared.

You needed something that she had.

You were familiar with the government coming to your house. Sis dabbled in psuedoscience, making time machines and reanimating dead animals. She invented the warp speed and other various inventions that helped in the war like corrosion missiles. She hid it all in the shed, and you admit that you use a lot of it, even after the accident.

She said she might be able to let you see.

But that didn't matter. You needed the one machine that could help fix all of this. Her Appearifier. A machine that could send anything through time or space. As long as it didn't cause a paradox. As an apprentice Ectobiologist, you were trained in the basic uses of it.

You, Jace Harlan, were gonna send your moirail a present.