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@tragicomedicDespot
Her Highness, Witch of Doom, The Foremother of all Zalgo Judhri Ithaqa.
C:~ Reminder for all my spawns who may see it: moral betrayal of the supreme body of autocratic power in the guise of Her Highness, Tsarevna of Horrorterror, the Witch of Doom and the Foremother of all Zalgo, is punishable by the interruption of the life cycle of the perpetrator.<
C:~ I was too naive to realise just how delicate the task of reviving my kind truly was. Those creatures speak, but you can hear a barely noticeable hiss in their voices that gives away their artificial nature. Their blood palette is full of different shades, but none of them make any sense. They have arms and legs just like we did, but the mere touch of their slimy, cold skin is utterly repulsive. My finest creation turned out to be my deepest shame and disappointment. It's been centuries since then and I still wonder: was it predestined? Was there a way to save the mothergrub from corruption?<
"= you opted for this path? ah. we lost ours entirely, you know, so our current population is an immortal-ish imported-troll stop gap as we attempt to source a mother grub from somewhere. a universal reincarnation system is a pretty good stop gap. ="
C:~ I know we'll meet again one day. But will you remember me in the same way as I remember you? https://file.garden/aZB6DAuOJCHglmOs/memoryofbakhus.png?v=1775073236678<
C:~ I still remember how we were stargazing together back then on Alternia. Lovelace was always blabbering about some nonsense and I hated it, but I would still go just to be closer to him. Sometimes he would even fall asleep and I would hold his hand and look at the stars, wondering if there's an universe in which we're bound to be together forever. I don't see stars anymore. Any time the clouds part, I only see these ginormous carcasses of pulsating mess and slimy tentacles floating in the sky. There's no stars left. Nor there's any hope.<
C:~ Β«...He already made a deep cut on his palm and gave me an eager look, encouraging to do the same. Reaching for my ranseur would be very unwise, so I quickly bit into my hand until I felt a sharp bit of pain and tasted metallic cold liquid on my tongue. Thin fuchsia streams of blood spread across my fingers and I got mesmerized by the sight of my own blood, spilled by no one other than myself. He sat down and held out his hand to me, not as a sign of reconciliation, but as a ritual that would bind our destinies and finally suppress all of my will. I resisted any urge to look at his face, focusing on the candy red blood symbol on his shirt instead. "Don't make me wait." he growled. I clenched my teeth and grabbed his hand in this discraceful parody of a handshake inaugurating my complete defeat. Even one glimpse of cobalt and fuchsia mixing into a complete dirty dark mess was enough to make me nauseous; still, I stayed silent.Β» - Volume 2, page 207 of Β«Autobiography of Tsarevna: Zalgoid's only guide to troll history and cultureΒ». #cw-self-harm<
C:~ How amusing. Was it always this obvious?<
C:~ [Content of this chit taken down as it violates "no yearning" policy].<
C:~ Reminder for all my spawns who may see it: I will not be censoring anything written in my autobiography. Not only it is exceptionally rude and barbaric to alter the ancient text written by Her Highness herself, but it's also very important to keep all the details of troll anatomy as this is the only reliable and authentic source for my subjects to learn about trolls as a species. Anyone who claims these tomes are "pornographic" and "#nsfw" will be executed on spot.<
C:~ Β«...I could feel the fury eating me alive. I gave him a look full of hatred before slowly laying down my ranseur. He tensed for a moment and tightened his grip on the hilt of the sword he had just borrowed from the filthy limeblooded outcast that was currently studying my movements from behind his back. After making sure that I was disarmed, he tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. "On your knees." "What?!" My hatred flared up with renewed vigor. Does an insignificant godling think he can boss me around, the one who owns this world by a birth right? I almost rushed at him, blinded by rage, but he put the blade closer to the Lovelace's throat, forcing him to make a small gurgling sound. My pusher skipped a beat. "I said, on your knees." I felt the ground give out from under my feet. I fell to one knee, teeth bared. Hot tears were welling up in my eyes, but couldn't let myself appease his ego by crying. I raised my head and saw a smug smile on the Barbarian's face. He seemed satisfied by my previous action so he let go of Lovelace and threw his body in my direction. I rushed to him and just as I thought, his whole body was covered with wounds and bruises. He was breathing heavily and desperately trying to cough up the blood filling his gills, leaving deep violet stains on my dark green attire. Β» - Volume 2, page 206 of Β«Autobiography of Tsarevna: Zalgoid's only guide to troll history and cultureΒ». #gore<
C:~ Β«...He turned his head away, trying to hide his embarassment, but I noticed his earfins twitch as his cheeks shifted in color to a perfect lilac hue. Visibly nervous, the violetblood began to twirl his symbol in his hands - an old habit he had since pupation. It was uncommon to see him this anxious, but given the circumstances, no one could blame him. I slowly rose from the loungeplank and leaned closer. "Look at me, Lovelace". I gently touched his chin with my slim fingers, turning his face to me. Lovelace didn't hesitate, slightly lifting his eyelids and giving me a quick glance through thick eyelashes. Seeing him this obedient shamelessly awakened a carnal desire I tried so desperately to hide until this very moment. I knew that if I make another step, our moirallegience will be over and we both froze in uncertainty before proceeding to plunge into this sweet sin.Β» - Volume 3, page 48 of Β«Autobiography of Tsarevna: Zalgoid's only guide to troll history and cultureΒ». #nsfw<
C:~ Ah, Lovelace... The memory of you devours my mind like a deadly tumor, and yet, I relinquish to forget. How long ago has it been? How many intimate moments we had since then? We were supposed to be one until the end of time, but still, you chose to betray me just to please a bunch of revolutionaries. Your legacy died along with your loyalty and I was left with the wound that'll never heal.<
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C:~ Reminder for all my spawns who may see it: moral betrayal of the supreme body of autocratic power in the guise of Her Highness, Tsarevna of Horrorterror, the Witch of Doom and the Foremother of all Zalgo, is punishable by the interruption of the life cycle of the perpetrator.<
C:~ It's been millennias since I've heard from other trolls. I'm accustomed to the sight of the barely breathing amalgam of the once the greatest race in the universe, now turned into apathetic vessels, contaminated by something that is capable in descending even the bravest minds into madness. C:~ My psyche has been stripped of all emotions long ago. Still, is that harborsickness I feel?<