Rewind and Repeat
Chapter One
====> Be Karkat Vantas
I tried to avoid large crowds of higbloods, but I was making an exception tonight.
I weaved through the thick fray of trolls going about their business in the marketplace. It was a poorer section of Mutationis, which was saying something since it was still a lot nicer than any lowblood marketplace I’ve ever been to, with walls covered in mosaics depicting Alternian history lined up behind the market stalls and old gas lamps stung between the buildings and stalls. The moons were obstructed by clouds, so the lamps provided the only lighting.
There was a particular merchant that I was looking for. I heard from some of the younger trolls that hadn’t quite learned to keep their voices down in the marketplace closer to my hive that she sold good quality weapons to lowbloods and hung a green lantern at her market stall. My sickles were dull and starting to rust, so I was in desperate need of new ones that weren’t going to go to waste within a few perigees. I wasn’t stupid enough to leave my hive without them.
A tall ceruleanblood shoved past me and managed to upset my balance enough for me to stumbled into a tealblood, who promptly shoved me aside and yelled, “Watch it rustblood!” I clenched my jaw, I wanted to tear her a new one but I was in a crowd of bluebloods and I didn’t have a death wish. Plenty of them were already giving me stares before this, and now the best I could do was keep my head down and keep moving.
I heard a few whispers from trolls as I moved past, asking each other why there was lowblooded scum in a place like this. A few wondered if I was a l slave, and a few others taunted me, telling me that I needed to get out of here and go back to my lusus. I was nine sweeps old damnit, I didn’t have a lusus anymore. Not that they cared, they just wanted to make it known that they thought themselves better than I was because they were higher in the hemospectrum than me.
I am notoriously bad at keeping my opinions to myself, and for doing acrobatics off the metaphorical handle at the drop of a hat, but in public I knew better. I knew better than to draw too much attention to myself.
Dying wasn’t on my list of things to do today.
That’s how life was, if you had blood warmer than your average tealblood you had to tread lightly, and if you were warmer than your average yellowblood you better keep yourself out of the line of sight of any highblood that might be in a bad mood, and if you were to end up in their line of sight, be more polite than you ever want to be toward the high and mighty sacks of musclebeast shit with chilled blood coursing through their veins.
If you weren’t, you’d probably be culled on sight. If you do something disrespectful to a highblood on a good day, you’d be lucky if you walked out broken and bleeding. They were ruthless and power hungry, and they didn’t care who they stepped on to keep their power. I’m told that ceruleanbloods and colder have their own style of backstabbing and power grabbing, but they all agreed that anyone with warmer blood and a shorter natural lifespan is worse than nothing.
I round a corner into another section of the marketplace and see a stall with the faint green lantern in the corner. I ducked and wove around the taller trolls toward where the silver glint of metal was reflecting off the low light of the gas lanterns. There was only the green one and another blue one under the faded teal canopy that draped over wooden supports to protect patrons and the weapons from the elements, but it didn’t do much for the cold wind that was currently blowing my cloak all over the goddamn place. It was annoying, the hood flapping to the side and hitting me in the face. At this rate I was going to break a tooth and damn myself to an early grave from the blood that would gush from my mouth.
I managed to get to the stall without shattering a tooth or three, and ducked between two tealbloods to get to where the the sickles were on display. I looked at an especially ornate set and wished for a moment that I had more caegars to spend besides the meager amount I had managed to save over the last half a sweep.
Thankfully I wasn’t a slave, I was but a simple troll who did critiques of various movies and novels. I barely survived off that, but it was something. I managed to save a few caegars after my lusus left and I didn’t have to worry about feeding it anymore, but not a whole lot. I sometimes entertained the thought of becoming a Threshecutioner, an elite sickle-wielding soldier that patrolled Alternia to keep everyone, highbloods and low, in line. They were the most lethal soldiers in the known universe, and I aspired to be one for the longest time. By my seventh sweep, I realized how foolish the notion was. Past me was an naive, ignorant wriggler.
I looked over at another pair, plain silver with a solid, black leather wrapped handle. I had been meaning to learn how to use two sickles in combat, so it might be a good time to invest in two. These ones looked pretty good quality compared to what I was used to, with a strong curve and visibly sharp. They looked sturdy and strong, like they didn’t run the risk of breaking in the middle of a strife.
“Looking for anything in particular?” I looked up to see an oliveblood with rounded, somewhat taller horns and her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She wore a worker’s smock with a leather apron that had her symbol in the middle of her chest. It was jagged and sharp unlike her horns. Her olive eyes glinted in the moonlight, sending a pang of anxiety through me. She couldn’t be more than a sweep or two older than me and her eyes betrayed her blood color.
“A new sickle,” I mumbled, still looking at the pair in front of me partially wishing I could pick them up and look them over. “Or two, depending on cost.”
She smiled, her fangs poking out from behind her top lip, “The pair you’re looking at right now are some of my lower quality ones, but they are a lot better than you would find elsewhere for the price.”
I nodded and she pulled one out of the case, turning it over a few times so I could see it. She offered me it, “Go ahead and test the weight, see if it’s what you’re looking for.”
I stared at her in surprise for a moment before taking it from her. I didn’t think she would actually let me handle it, most merchants wouldn’t let you handle their weapons until you bought it in case you just kill them and steal everything they had.
It was a medium weight, light enough to move easily but heavy enough that it would do some decent damage. It was sturdy as well. I turned it over in my hand, inspecting it, before looking up to her and handing it back, “How much for both of them?”
“150 caegars each, pretty good compared to a lot of other merchants,” she said, smiling.
She was right too.
Luckily I had brought 350 caegars. I pulled the 300 out of my pocket and gave them to her with a slight smile. I managed to get some pretty good quality sickles with the meager amount I managed to save.
She slid them into sheathes and handed them to me, “Thank you for your business, hopefully you’ll be a little safer now.”
I nodded, “Thank you.” I turned to leave but she tapped my shoulder, stretched over the display cases, and hissed, “Be careful burgundyblood, the bluebloods have been antsy the last week and I’ve found at least two dead lowbloods in the alleyways.”
I nodded, “Thanks for the warning.”
She nodded and straightened up as I turned and left, ducking through the crowd again. I fastened the sickles to my belt as I walked.
I had heard a few rumors that the bluebloods here had been pissy over some territorial aristocracy turf war over slaves and been taking it out on the local lowblood population. No idea why, didn’t care either, I just wanted to make it back to my hive without dying.
I managed to get out of the marketplace and onto one of the side pathways, taking sort of a back way out of the settlement. It was probably dangerous, especially after the merchant’s warning, but it was one of the fastest ways out of there and I wanted to get the hell out of this settlement. I turned to cut down the only alleyway I was going to take and stopped dead in my tracks.
Farther down, but still fairly close, a blueblood was punching a yellowblood that he had pinned against the wall across the jaw. I heard the snap of his jaw breaking from here.
I stood, frozen, as the another ceruleanblood got up from where he was sitting on top of a crate, laughed cruelly, and kicked the yellowblood in the knee, breaking it. The blueblood dropped him, causing the poor troll to cry out. He tried to drag himself away, but got kicked in the ribs by the blueblood instead. Another set of crushed bones.
The yellowblood was crawling toward my direction, so I took a step back, and then another. The last thing I needed was to get into a strife, especially with these bloodthirsty bluebloods.
He looked up at me desperately, his tormentors laughing in the background, and reached toward me. My eyes widened and I took a few more steps back as the ceruleanblood kicked the poor yellowblood in the temple, killing him. Before the bluebloods could look up I bolted down the pathway along the building away from the alleyway. I ran and ran and ran down pathway after pathway, shoving trolls aside as I ran and weaving through thicker crowds like water until I reached the outskirts of the settlement. I slowed down from running full tilt to pacing myself a little better, knowing that I couldn’t wear myself out to my face turning the color of my blood, and so my lungs would stop threatening to burst.
It was at least four miles to my hive, but I didn’t stop running. I looked behind me a few times to make sure I wasn’t being pursued. A lowblood running away from a marketplace was sketchy enough, but no one was behind me. My paranoia was kicking me in the ass that someone would start coming after me at any time so I kept running.
I almost tripped over my cloak at least three times, ripping more off the ends, and my feet screamed from the running but I didn’t stop. I didn’t stop until I all but ripped the front door of my hive off the hinges rushed inside, and slammed it shut. I slammed my back against the door to shut it, and wheezed, trying to remember how to breathe.
Thing is, that’s what happens to lowbloods every day. They could take a shortcut through an alley and get beaten and killed, or witness another getting beaten or killed.
Sometimes you walk out the front door and see a neighbor being dragged out of their hive and culled either by highbloods or even worse, the Imperial Drones. I didn’t even want to think about the Imperial Drones, cause when it came down to it if I didn’t get killed by the highbloods I would get killed by the drones.
My breathing started to slow after several long minutes of existential dread about my future death. I will be culled eventually, it was only a matter of time. I was lucky that I had made it to nine sweeps, that’s more than a lot of trolls. Hell, I was lucky I made it out of the brooding caverns.
I slammed my head back against the door out of frustration before stopping and cursing at myself for being an idiot because if I were to hurt myself enough to draw blood, hell to even bruise anywhere, including hidden in my own hair, I would be dying a lot faster than I would be at this rate.
Dying wasn’t really in my plans right now, but I didn’t know what I was going to do to avoid dying either.
I tried to avoid large crowds of higbloods, but I was making an exception tonight.
I weaved through the thick fray of trolls going about their business in the marketplace. It was a poorer section of Mutationis, which was saying something since it was still a lot nicer than any lowblood marketplace I’ve ever been to, with walls covered in mosaics depicting Alternian history lined up behind the market stalls and old gas lamps stung between the buildings and stalls. The moons were obstructed by clouds, so the lamps provided the only lighting.
There was a particular merchant that I was looking for. I heard from some of the younger trolls that hadn’t quite learned to keep their voices down in the marketplace closer to my hive that she sold good quality weapons to lowbloods and hung a green lantern at her market stall. My sickles were dull and starting to rust, so I was in desperate need of new ones that weren’t going to go to waste within a few perigees. I wasn’t stupid enough to leave my hive without them.
A tall ceruleanblood shoved past me and managed to upset my balance enough for me to stumbled into a tealblood, who promptly shoved me aside and yelled, “Watch it rustblood!” I clenched my jaw, I wanted to tear her a new one but I was in a crowd of bluebloods and I didn’t have a death wish. Plenty of them were already giving me stares before this, and now the best I could do was keep my head down and keep moving.
I heard a few whispers from trolls as I moved past, asking each other why there was lowblooded scum in a place like this. A few wondered if I was a l slave, and a few others taunted me, telling me that I needed to get out of here and go back to my lusus. I was nine sweeps old damnit, I didn’t have a lusus anymore. Not that they cared, they just wanted to make it known that they thought themselves better than I was because they were higher in the hemospectrum than me.
I am notoriously bad at keeping my opinions to myself, and for doing acrobatics off the metaphorical handle at the drop of a hat, but in public I knew better. I knew better than to draw too much attention to myself.
Dying wasn’t on my list of things to do today.
That’s how life was, if you had blood warmer than your average tealblood you had to tread lightly, and if you were warmer than your average yellowblood you better keep yourself out of the line of sight of any highblood that might be in a bad mood, and if you were to end up in their line of sight, be more polite than you ever want to be toward the high and mighty sacks of musclebeast shit with chilled blood coursing through their veins.
If you weren’t, you’d probably be culled on sight. If you do something disrespectful to a highblood on a good day, you’d be lucky if you walked out broken and bleeding. They were ruthless and power hungry, and they didn’t care who they stepped on to keep their power. I’m told that ceruleanbloods and colder have their own style of backstabbing and power grabbing, but they all agreed that anyone with warmer blood and a shorter natural lifespan is worse than nothing.
I round a corner into another section of the marketplace and see a stall with the faint green lantern in the corner. I ducked and wove around the taller trolls toward where the silver glint of metal was reflecting off the low light of the gas lanterns. There was only the green one and another blue one under the faded teal canopy that draped over wooden supports to protect patrons and the weapons from the elements, but it didn’t do much for the cold wind that was currently blowing my cloak all over the goddamn place. It was annoying, the hood flapping to the side and hitting me in the face. At this rate I was going to break a tooth and damn myself to an early grave from the blood that would gush from my mouth.
I managed to get to the stall without shattering a tooth or three, and ducked between two tealbloods to get to where the the sickles were on display. I looked at an especially ornate set and wished for a moment that I had more caegars to spend besides the meager amount I had managed to save over the last half a sweep.
Thankfully I wasn’t a slave, I was but a simple troll who did critiques of various movies and novels. I barely survived off that, but it was something. I managed to save a few caegars after my lusus left and I didn’t have to worry about feeding it anymore, but not a whole lot. I sometimes entertained the thought of becoming a Threshecutioner, an elite sickle-wielding soldier that patrolled Alternia to keep everyone, highbloods and low, in line. They were the most lethal soldiers in the known universe, and I aspired to be one for the longest time. By my seventh sweep, I realized how foolish the notion was. Past me was an naive, ignorant wriggler.
I looked over at another pair, plain silver with a solid, black leather wrapped handle. I had been meaning to learn how to use two sickles in combat, so it might be a good time to invest in two. These ones looked pretty good quality compared to what I was used to, with a strong curve and visibly sharp. They looked sturdy and strong, like they didn’t run the risk of breaking in the middle of a strife.
“Looking for anything in particular?” I looked up to see an oliveblood with rounded, somewhat taller horns and her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She wore a worker’s smock with a leather apron that had her symbol in the middle of her chest. It was jagged and sharp unlike her horns. Her olive eyes glinted in the moonlight, sending a pang of anxiety through me. She couldn’t be more than a sweep or two older than me and her eyes betrayed her blood color.
“A new sickle,” I mumbled, still looking at the pair in front of me partially wishing I could pick them up and look them over. “Or two, depending on cost.”
She smiled, her fangs poking out from behind her top lip, “The pair you’re looking at right now are some of my lower quality ones, but they are a lot better than you would find elsewhere for the price.”
I nodded and she pulled one out of the case, turning it over a few times so I could see it. She offered me it, “Go ahead and test the weight, see if it’s what you’re looking for.”
I stared at her in surprise for a moment before taking it from her. I didn’t think she would actually let me handle it, most merchants wouldn’t let you handle their weapons until you bought it in case you just kill them and steal everything they had.
It was a medium weight, light enough to move easily but heavy enough that it would do some decent damage. It was sturdy as well. I turned it over in my hand, inspecting it, before looking up to her and handing it back, “How much for both of them?”
“150 caegars each, pretty good compared to a lot of other merchants,” she said, smiling.
She was right too.
Luckily I had brought 350 caegars. I pulled the 300 out of my pocket and gave them to her with a slight smile. I managed to get some pretty good quality sickles with the meager amount I managed to save.
She slid them into sheathes and handed them to me, “Thank you for your business, hopefully you’ll be a little safer now.”
I nodded, “Thank you.” I turned to leave but she tapped my shoulder, stretched over the display cases, and hissed, “Be careful burgundyblood, the bluebloods have been antsy the last week and I’ve found at least two dead lowbloods in the alleyways.”
I nodded, “Thanks for the warning.”
She nodded and straightened up as I turned and left, ducking through the crowd again. I fastened the sickles to my belt as I walked.
I had heard a few rumors that the bluebloods here had been pissy over some territorial aristocracy turf war over slaves and been taking it out on the local lowblood population. No idea why, didn’t care either, I just wanted to make it back to my hive without dying.
I managed to get out of the marketplace and onto one of the side pathways, taking sort of a back way out of the settlement. It was probably dangerous, especially after the merchant’s warning, but it was one of the fastest ways out of there and I wanted to get the hell out of this settlement. I turned to cut down the only alleyway I was going to take and stopped dead in my tracks.
Farther down, but still fairly close, a blueblood was punching a yellowblood that he had pinned against the wall across the jaw. I heard the snap of his jaw breaking from here.
I stood, frozen, as the another ceruleanblood got up from where he was sitting on top of a crate, laughed cruelly, and kicked the yellowblood in the knee, breaking it. The blueblood dropped him, causing the poor troll to cry out. He tried to drag himself away, but got kicked in the ribs by the blueblood instead. Another set of crushed bones.
The yellowblood was crawling toward my direction, so I took a step back, and then another. The last thing I needed was to get into a strife, especially with these bloodthirsty bluebloods.
He looked up at me desperately, his tormentors laughing in the background, and reached toward me. My eyes widened and I took a few more steps back as the ceruleanblood kicked the poor yellowblood in the temple, killing him. Before the bluebloods could look up I bolted down the pathway along the building away from the alleyway. I ran and ran and ran down pathway after pathway, shoving trolls aside as I ran and weaving through thicker crowds like water until I reached the outskirts of the settlement. I slowed down from running full tilt to pacing myself a little better, knowing that I couldn’t wear myself out to my face turning the color of my blood, and so my lungs would stop threatening to burst.
It was at least four miles to my hive, but I didn’t stop running. I looked behind me a few times to make sure I wasn’t being pursued. A lowblood running away from a marketplace was sketchy enough, but no one was behind me. My paranoia was kicking me in the ass that someone would start coming after me at any time so I kept running.
I almost tripped over my cloak at least three times, ripping more off the ends, and my feet screamed from the running but I didn’t stop. I didn’t stop until I all but ripped the front door of my hive off the hinges rushed inside, and slammed it shut. I slammed my back against the door to shut it, and wheezed, trying to remember how to breathe.
Thing is, that’s what happens to lowbloods every day. They could take a shortcut through an alley and get beaten and killed, or witness another getting beaten or killed.
Sometimes you walk out the front door and see a neighbor being dragged out of their hive and culled either by highbloods or even worse, the Imperial Drones. I didn’t even want to think about the Imperial Drones, cause when it came down to it if I didn’t get killed by the highbloods I would get killed by the drones.
My breathing started to slow after several long minutes of existential dread about my future death. I will be culled eventually, it was only a matter of time. I was lucky that I had made it to nine sweeps, that’s more than a lot of trolls. Hell, I was lucky I made it out of the brooding caverns.
I slammed my head back against the door out of frustration before stopping and cursing at myself for being an idiot because if I were to hurt myself enough to draw blood, hell to even bruise anywhere, including hidden in my own hair, I would be dying a lot faster than I would be at this rate.
Dying wasn’t really in my plans right now, but I didn’t know what I was going to do to avoid dying either.