Trolls, Humans, and Cherub oh my!: Grimdark vs. Trickster Edition [PRIVATE]

However, that's a mouthful, so lets say the date is Year 6,123,123 AC, or After Civilization. The remnants of a once bounteous humanocentric Empire lay on the barren world from which all humans had originally spawned. Their seed had travelled far across the universe, a sprawling growing technologically superior empire that lasted for not just thousands of years, but billions. The sheer length of their civilizations age is a feat unto itself, a miracle even, that such a thing could have been overcome... although overcome is too strong a word, as it was more, successfully delaying the inevitable for the longest period of time at all possible. So long in fact, that in the shadow of their rule a new Empire spawned to take its place, when its inevitable fall finally came.

One could say that the Age of Man came to be due to some 'divine manipulation', and they would be correct in their assumption. A being responsible for everything that ever occurred in the universe had cooped itself up into the stronghold nearly at the heart of the action within human society. An artifact that they looked up to in the sky every night, and dreading its eclipsion in the day. Their history had been riddled with the idea that mankind and its homeworld was the very center of the universe, and that all things revolved around it... how ironic that the stupid, dull witted, and uneducated ancestors of the past could have been for once, correct. The universe did indeed revolve around earth, though not in the exact manner it was expected: it was the true battleground of Armageddon, a mythology they also got correct... but with different characters, different characteristics, circumstances, and setting.

Unfortunately, even stars die, and humanity was never meant to outlive its star. For unknown reasons and circumstances, there are a number of differing possibilities that had been building for the last four and a half billion years, until... all across the cosmos... humanity seemed to vanish. Only ruins seemed to remain, and the technology they left behind, only they could use. So six million years pass and the universe decided it was tired of waiting, and allowed the fruition of a new race, to take humanities place: the Alternian-Beforus Trolls.

Peaceful, but stern, the Trolls acquired the prowess of the humans far faster than could be imagined. Strong enough to drive progress, but stern in their peaceful costumes kept them out of majorly debilitating conflict. Like Humanity, the Trollian Empire expanded at an exponential rate, conquering, annexing, and colonizing new and foreign worlds at one point ruled by Humanities Ancient Civilization.

Finally then the story of the center of the universe came full circle, as a Trollian Expeditionary Fleet was ordered by the Empress herself to bring settlers into uncharted territory. It was intended to be an archaeology mission on the side, as many scholars speculated that the strange culture they kept on finding ruins of, could likely be centered or originated in that particular region. The fleet was fated to never return.

It arrived at a deadly hour in Earth's history. Sooner than expected the sun that had given life to the earth was approaching closer and closer a point at which it would swallow the Earth and the other terrestrial planets in a fiery expansion. It seemed to be growing in lurches however, as if some unseen force had been for all these many millions of years holding the suns atmosphere from dangerously expanding beyond capacities that would make earth uncomfortable. The failure of this unnamed hypothetical force began soon after civilization ended. The coincidence is uncanny.

Regardless however, instead of realizing the deceit of the seeming youthful yellow sun and abandoning the archeologists settlement, the Trollian expeditionaries were faced with dread and horrible tragedy: The Helmsman has died due to an unknown psionic destruction of his mind. They were trapped, and dead in the water, well within the orbit of where the sun could engulf them. They collectively had the strength only to correct their course into an orbit with the nearest planet: coincidentally Earth. In the hopes that perhaps the seemingly barren world below was not another dead world, but perhaps filled with alien life that could potentially save them from their troubles with the right guidance. They were rejoicingly happy to find that there was something down below.

They are the last living humans in the universe. Whatever caused the end of Civilization is unknown to them, and their exact origins are shrouded in mystery, but all that anyone can tell everyone had woken up in a tube, and every woman gave birth in exiting them. They did not know how they knew about pregnancy, or parenting, or how to instantly talk to one another upon exiting the tubes. It was as if they had amnesia, and retained the skills they had built up from before. They were disturbed only by two great crashings from above, that prompted them to seek what went on above. Two children had been found in the craters, and in their naivety they accepted them as completely ordinary and normal human beings, containing no malformation or disease.

Likewise, on the expeditionary fleet two very specific trolls had been put to sleep for the settlers journey for a better life, had similar origins on their own homeworld. These heroes, born of their own meddling with time, were part of the grand design of the universe, with only one being to claim responsibility orchestrating the entirety history in the plainest sight in Paradox Space. They, like the rest of the settlers, were awoken to realize their potential fate, and how their mission had changed.

There was one thing certain: seemingly sentient creatures were awake... and they could operate Ancient Technology previously thought to be useless and inoperable. Soon realising that the humans were of far greater value to them and the entirety of the Troll race, they wanted to do nothing that might goad them into destruction. The settlers were to become ambassadors, and follow the designs of the a grand manipulation to have a peaceable first contact. They wanted the exchange of technology needed for their survival, and now to bring back word of users of the Ancient Tech, who they would offer personal appearance before the Empress.

And then they would find a game... that would ruin everything...

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==> Begin the Games

A young girl stands in the center of an enormous "room" with four main sections: Bed, Holographic Computation Projector, Chemlab, and an entertainment sector. Essentially everyone in the Tubes had a room customized to their personal psyche profile. Apparently you absolutely NEEDED those specific four portions, separated by a massive space, in order to stay socially sane. Like everyone else however, your attire was much to your chagrin, pure white. You still had it styled to how you liked it (with lots of skin showing), but its like this place was initially voided of color to make people calm or something. It only made you angry.

There wasn't much else to say really, she was as bored as fuck and lying on her floor staring up at a holographic display of the Archive, which also ironically served as a social function for some bizarre reason nobody could explain. You didn't have many friends really, and honestly, why would you? You're basically a nutter here, thinking on a whole different plane and spectrum than these pudding brains. Its like life wanted you to be superior, but forgot to make a society with status for you to climb up through. Everything here was monotone and boring, despite the accommodations the drones could achieve for them. It only made you angry.

There wasn't even money here. In fact, what even the hell was money? God if you knew, but its mentioned everywhere in the archives and you want it. It only made you angry.

Don't even mention sex, my god, these inbreds are at your level of intelligence. Shame on them for not being able to teach you something you were not even aware you did not know about! Lazy fucks not being able to read the thoughts of the mind that never occurred in the first place; simply inconsiderate. It only made you angry.

It only ever made you angry, and you could not place why. You had these weird feelings about people but you did not know why. You desperately wanted to know why, you wanted an end to these problems you felt you saw but could not explain to another being how you saw what you felt inside. You lived in a seemingly flawed world that was perfect. You only consolation was a strange little thing that you had been born with. It draw to you was astounding, but in recent years, it felt like it was actually drawn towards... up. It only made you fucking angry.

Angry about things you could not rightly describe, you decided to fling up an online status. Maybe you could work out those negative feelings by putting on your lovely facade of flirtiness, a concept you're pretty sure you fucking invented.


==>

A young boy stands in his room thingie, which he feels should not be called a room at all. Also, he thinks that if he is ordered in any way to make a noise like that of an animal and do something generally foolish, he will do an acrobatic- except, he won't, because this is a new universe, and we can make up our own running gags.

> Zeke Benson: Reveal name.


You reveal your name, and woah! It's Zeke Benson! That was so unexpected and original that people will most likely overlook the fact that this gag has been royally overused in other mediums, if not this one. Like, great job, mate!

> Zeke: Tell us about your childhood.


Well, assuming you mean to tell about your current situation and such seeing as you're still in your childhood, will do. Zeke is absolutely obsessed with the holy noise that is Percussion, and has basically renovated every quarter of his 'room' for the purpose. Basically, everything but his bed and computer thing arenow percussion instruments and/or holding percussion instruments on top of them. It isn't exactly a mess, but it isn't really clean, either. Zeke also loves abstract concepts, and the odd strife battle with his Rad Sis, who may or may not actually be his sister.

> Zeke: Break that fourth wall. Use the nearest gardening utility.


You have absolutely no idea what that's supposed to mean. It's probably another feeble attempt at making a new gag, and if it is, DT better run with it. And, oh, drat, you've done it now. You actually did break the fourth wall.

> Get on the computer thingie.


You get on the computer thingie, and open up Pesterchum. Doesn't look like anyone's on, which is kind of funny, seeing as all of the people on this god-forsaken rock had each other registered. Some kind of team-building exercise or something, you don't know. Which kind of makes you want to know. Maybe the thinking behind it was so threadbare that it would constitute as an abstract concept. Anyhow, nobody is in Pesterchum.

Nope. Nobody.

Still no one.

Nope.

Oh, wait, someone logged on. How long have you been staring at your screen like that?!

Spoiler:

==> Hera: Break the fourth wall. Use the nearest golden utility.

No... despite the epic desire to throw something into your rooms fourth wall... which you guess could logically be any of the four walls... you possess no gold.

:(

You have never possessed gold.

:.(

You are not entirely sure what the fuck gold is.

;::(

Somewhere in an alternate universe, you are crying.

What the fuck does that mean? You're fucking crying now and don't know why! You decided to blame Glag for forcing us to break the stupid Fourth Wall...

I blame the gardening tools...

==> Get over your hysterics!

Aight fine. You're chill with this proposition.

You wipe away your tears to clean up your running make up... and then realize that make up does not exist, and things that don't exist generally don't run... probably? You don't know, but you get over yourself pretty quick as your psyche quickly escalates to the top of your not-giving-a-shit-o-meter again.

You notice that you've been messaged.

==> Respond

Spoiler:

:D

==> Exclaim how excited you are to be back at it!

Wat

==>

==>

You clack at your old, clunky keyboard.

Spoiler:

You then wait for a response, tapping at the desktop with your fingertips.

> Be the other one.

Okay,

> No, the other other one.

Ri-

> No wait no, be the other other one who's a girl.

Uh. Okay. You are now the other one who is a girl. But she's setting a trap including paperclips and ten quarts of mayonnaise! Needless to say, you most certainly cannot be this girl.

> Darn. Fine, be the other girl.