Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

What is the secret ingredient to happiness?

That was the question Chef was trying to find the answer to. If it's not the Trolls like her kind always thought, then what is it?

Eating Trolls was no longer socially acceptable, so she had to find a way to remake the taste-- The taste of happiness . She wanted it so bad. It'd been so long since her last Trollstice and she was dying for just a drop of happiness again.

That's why she snuck back into the castle.

She'd been living out in the wilderness for months, tending to her burns and thinking of ways to get back at the Trolls AND the other Bergens. The small purple one; the traitor. What was his name? She'd heard the others say it-- Cream? Craig? She didn't remember and she didn't care anyway. He'd been with her for only a few days before he ran off on his own. Part of her wished he stayed…

That would've made tasting happiness much easier than trying to concoct a recipe. Oh well, if she couldn't have the real thing, imitation was good enough.

Lifting the small bowl to her mouth, she took a sip.

It wasn't bad-- but it wasn't right . She smelled and tasted every single ingredient left in the kitchen just to try and find SOMETHING that was close to the flavour of Trolls.

Sugar, cinnamon, chamomile, mint-- none of it was the same, even when combined. She set down the bowl quietly with a small growl. She had to make it work. She HAD to prove she could do it!

Angrily, she began to rifle through cabinets, drawers and even the fridge. Only place she didn't check was the freezer. Honestly, what useful thing could even be in there? Trolls smelled fresh, not frozen. It wouldn't hurt to check, though, right? Quietly opening the freezer, she examined the small amount of things inside. Ice-cream? That might work, it was sweet. Frozen tater-tots? Ew. Expired veggies and freezer burnt foods were the only other things inside the small space. She was starting to lose hope…

Until she noticed a small, dark shape hidden in the ice towards the back.

Grabbing a spoon, Chef started to gently pick at the ice and remove the object. Once it was out, her lips curled into a lop-sided smile.

In her hands sat a small, shriveled up, mummified Troll . Dull strands of what was once blonde hair clung helplessly to the wrinkled, brown scalp. She could only guess the colour the poor thing was before. Orange? Maybe pink? Didn't matter-- THIS is what she needs.

Letting out a quiet chuckle, the Bergen walked back over to the bowl and dropped the Troll corpse in. She tapped her fingers against the counter while she waited a few minutes; steeping the mummy like a tea-bag. 

Two minutes in, she grew impatient and figured that was long enough. Lifting the bowl once more, she drank the mummy-Troll-soup. The taste... wasn't horrid , but it wasn't good either. Not as good as a LIVE Troll.

She shrugged and picked up the now soaked carcass, tossing it into her mouth. The taste was bitter and slightly sour. Yet somehow, there was still a bit of a sweet aftertaste hidden under all the freezer-burnt flesh. The texture was the worst part-- Maybe if she ate it dry, it would've been fine. Like cold jerky. Steeping it in the soup was an awful idea; The skin was slightly slimy thanks to the ice-slush mixed with the sugar from the bowl. The bones were much worse. She could deal with that in a live one, but the crunch in the soggy, soft, cold flesh? That almost made her gag. She felt like she was starting to get sick.

Actually–

Glancing at her hands, she felt like her body was lagging behind her thoughts. The room felt hot as it started spinning-- different colours clouded her vision and outlined objects like a ghost. Maybe she shouldn't have eaten the rotting corpse of a Troll she found in the fucking freezer . No telling how much mold and bacteria was on that little thing. What was she thinking ?! That was the problem, she wasn’t thinking at all! She was so caught up in her culinary experiment and her ego that she put HERSELF in a potentially fatal situation!

Well, she knew what she was thinking currently: Regret.

Trying to step back away from the counter and get to the sink, her legs gave out and she dropped to the floor. Coughing and dry-heaving, she tried to crawl. Every movement made her stomach flip and her head pound. Who knew that dead Trolls could be used as such a potent poison?

Pulling herself up onto the counter, she continued to dry-heave into the sink. Her body refused to let anything out no matter how hard she gagged. Her ears were ringing and she could tell she was being loud. The guards would catch her– even if she survived the poisoning she gave herself , Chad and Todd would kill her instead. Normally she could fight them off, they were stupid and practically useless; but given she could barely stand as of right now, she knew she had no chances of winning ANY fight.

She supposed this was the end, though she didn’t think it would happen so fast. Perhaps it’s what she deserved. She couldn't finish anything she set her mind to! Catching Trolls, taking over the kingdom, recreating the taste of happiness…

That was the one thought that lingered the longest as she collapsed and her vision faded.

She'd never get to taste happiness ever again.

Chapter Text

At least... That's what she thought.

When she opened her eyes, she was standing on top of a hill in the dead of night. Confused, she looked up at the dark, black sky. She couldn't see a single star. She couldn't even feel the grass beneath her feet-- wait. 

Chef looked down and realized she couldn't see her limbs at all. Was she dead? A ghost perhaps? Funny, this didn't look like Hell. Glancing around, she figured she might as well explore… wherever she was. Her curiosity fueled her as she walked. Floated? She wasn't sure. As she traveled over the grass-land, she took in her surroundings.

Navy blue grass, silver stones, black sky. She kept asking herself the same question; Where was she? She could hear what sounded like the ocean, so she followed it. Maybe that would lead somewhere important. Climbing a large hill, she reached the top of a cliff. Peering over the edge; Inky, black water returned her stare as it crashed against the rocks of the cliff-side. Strange. It's like the sky just merged with the water-- a void.

"That didn't seem like a bright idea, no offense."

Chef quickly turned around, her eyes scanning her surroundings in a panic. Behind her was the edge of a forest; crimson trees with pale, off-white foliage. The trees appeared to have some kind of red, ruby-like fruit growing on them, but she couldn't tell what exactly it was from the distance. When did that get there? She didn't pass a forest before; she's sure she would've seen that while climbing the hill...

But more importantly: Who was that? 

She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She couldn't even make a sound. She tried again, straining herself as she tried in vain to yell. Her attention was grabbed yet again as she heard a small giggle. Looking at the tree-line, she watched nervously as a pink-skinned limb emerged from one of the white bushes. She stared in surprise as a Troll stepped out from its hiding place; But something wasn't right...

The Troll was too big -- She was the same size as Chef!

"Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you. I know you must be confused." The Troll spoke with a soft, almost comforting voice. Who was she? Why wasn't SHE afraid? Doesn't she know who she's looking at?! Well... Chef couldn't see herself, so maybe the Troll saw her differently? That would explain a lot.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the woman approaching and answering her thoughts.

"Oh no, I know exactly who you are-- AND what you just did. Which, again, was kinda stupid."

Could... Could this Troll hear her?

"Yep!" The blonde responded with a wide smile.

Wait, blonde? Hold on was she-- 

Is she the Troll from the freezer?

"I am. The names Flores! I'd say I'm happy to meet you, but uh... you know." She shrugged awkwardly.

Oh, so yes , Chef was dead. That's the only logical reason she'd be talking to the ghost of the Troll that just gave her food poisoning . The pink woman in question smoothed down her wavy hair as she chuckled and shook her head. Her blue eyes darted off to the side as her smile dropped.

"As nice as it is to talk with someone again, I think you better wake up now. I'll see you next time! Promise!" She waved as she ran back through the tree-line and disappeared from sight.

Chef wanted to yell at her to wait, to explain-- What did she mean wake up? Next time? She didn't understand! She couldn't voice it and it didn't seem like the blonde could hear her thoughts anymore.

Suddenly, she could feel the ground again; but it was uneven and wobbly. The earth beneath her gave way and she tried to run. She wasn’t fast enough and in an instant she was falling into the inky water below.

🔪🔪🔪

A scream ripped from the Bergens throat as she sat up-- It was dark; too dark! She was drowning in the inky black ocean!

Her hand touched something soft, bringing her back to reality. She wasn't drowning-- She wasn't even in water. It felt like she was under a blanket. Was it all a dream? The corpse soup? The weird land she was just in? Oh, thank the Gods above! She's ALIVE!

The celebration was short-lived as she managed to pull herself out from under the blanket. It wasn't a blanket. She wasn't back at her campsite, snoozing away. She was still in the kitchen. Still in the castle.

But why was everything so big ? Why was she suddenly so cold?

Looking down, she noticed a few things. The most shocking one being that she was fully naked. Covering herself with her arms, she let out a squeak of surprise. The shock wore off quickly however as she noticed her body wasn't how it normally looked. Her arms were stumpy and round; claws missing entirely. The legs matched all the way down to the toes. Stumpy . If she didn't know better she'd say she looked like a…

The chuckle died in her throat as her stomach sank. She quickly threw herself up off the floor and ran to the closest reflective surface she could find.

Standing in front of it, her fears were proven right.

Reflected back wasn't the form of a Bergen, but the form of a small Troll. Yet, Chef could still tell it was her. Pale, lilac skin; some of her warts were still there. Her light turquoise hair, although messy, remained the same. Bringing her hand up, she gently touched her now large ears. She felt sick. What had she done to herself? HOW did this happen? Small tears started to run down her face as she stared at her reflection in disdain and horror. Her body was round; a bean-like shape. It was awful. 

She tried to be quiet as she wept into her hands, but the sound of the door creaking alerted her to someone coming. She couldn't be seen like this! She looked around before dashing for the curtain hanging from the window she had snuck in earlier. She could see the first few rays of dawn coming through-- How long was she unconscious?

Hiding in the reddish-brown curtain, she watched as the scullery maid entered the kitchen.

"Hello? Is someone in here?" She called out with a worried expression.

She looked different than the last time Chef had seen her. The most noticeable thing to her eye was the shiny, golden ring on her finger.

"Babe, What's wrong?"

King Gristle came in from the other room, slipping his hand into Bridget's and intertwining their fingers. When did that happen? Sure, they'd been dating but Chef had no idea they tied the knot.

"Oh, it's nothing Grissy... I thought I heard something and was worried it might've been Poppy trying to surprise us again and getting stuck."

Poppy? As in Princess Poppy ? She knew the Trolls and Bergens were friendly with each other now, but did the little cretins actually have freedom to just show up in the castle to SURPRISE the rulers?

Chef watched as Bridget walked further into the kitchen, with Gristle right behind, before the girl noticed the clothes laying in the middle of the floor.

"That looks familiar" The king commented with a small squint as his wife picked the pile of fabric up. Bridget nodded and the two of them shared a look before walking out of the kitchen. With Chef's clothes. Shit.

She'd have to follow them to get it back! But... what would she even do with them at this size? If she could find a sharp object, maybe she could cut some of the fabric for clothes? She's sure the scullery maid-- Queen. 

She's sure the queen has a pair of sewing scissors she could steal.

But she couldn't venture out exposed like this.

Glancing around, she spotted a piece of broken glass under the fridge. Perfect! The one time she's glad Bridget missed something while cleaning. Once she knew the coast was clear, she made a run for it. It was strange not having the folds and rolls she used to. Hell, she barely even had breasts anymore. Trolls were strange.

Picking up the glass, she ran back to the curtain and proceeded to crudely cut off a large square. Wrapping it around her body as if it were a towel, she started running. The fabric was a bit longer than she meant. It trailed behind her like a train as she ran out of the kitchen and down the hall. If the two were married, she most likely stayed in the king's room-- which is most likely where she brought Chef's clothes.

It was a long run. Trolls had such stubby little legs, it was pitiful. They were burning by the time she got to the door. A new problem emerged, however. How was she supposed to open the door at this size? Gods! Trolls are the WORST. She had to find a way to reverse this, she just had to-- There was NO WAY she'd be staying like this! She'd rather die!

The door opening took her off guard and she was barely able to move before it hit her. She tried to run away and hide under a nearby chair, but the trail of her make-shift clothing betrayed her as it got snagged on a nail. Tripping, she let out a loud enough yelp to get the attention of whoever was coming out of the room.

Suddenly, she was being picked up.

"Hey! Put me down! You can't just man-handle someone like this!" She screamed before her eyes met Bridget's.

"...Chef?"

Shit. She was screwed . She just stayed quiet and tried to pretend she wasn't in this situation.

"Are... Why are you a Troll?"

Her eyes stung. She wanted to cry-- she didn't want to be seen like this! Especially not by the damn SCULLERY MAID of all people! She fought back tears that threatened to fall as she looked up at Bridget and started to yell.

"DON'T ASK STUPID QUESTIONS, JUST HELP ME YOU USELESS BITCH!"

Bridget jumped in surprise and looked around to make sure Gristle wasn't nearby. She chewed on her bottom lip before whispering with a sympathetic smile.

"I'll help you"

Huh? That... Wasn't what she expected.

Chef's anger faltered and a few tears managed to escape as she questioned, absolutely dumbfounded.

"You- You will?"

"Well, yeah? You're kinda in a tough spot by the looks of it."

Chef glared at the, now larger, Bergen as she brought her inside the room and set her on the dresser next to her clothes. Adjusting the curtain scrap around her chest, she squinted at Bridget.

"So, do you... have a plan? or was this spontaneous?"

The queen brought her hands together and rubbed her knuckles, avoiding eye contact with the now tiny Chef.

"Um, I didn't really have a plan? I didn't want Grissy to see you-- I think he's still mad."

Fair. She had a point. King Gristle could hold a grudge, especially since he'd become friends with the Trolls she tried to force feed him.

And because she tried to kill his now wife.

"I can help turn your old clothes into smaller ones! It would be better than the um... scrap?"

Chef sighed and nodded her head to agree. She just sat down on the edge of the dresser and avoided looking at the Bergen. Other Bergen. She was STILL a Bergen, just… 

Maybe not physically.

She couldn't help her eyes from wandering over to Bridget as she hummed, taking a small outfit out of a box and using it for measurements. It didn't take long, really-- only twenty minutes or so.

Does she do this a lot? Making clothes for Trolls?

"Here, try this" The larger girl spoke softly as she handed the garment to Chef.

Before she could even say anything, Bridget covered her eyes and turned around. Huh. Maybe she did do this a lot. Dropping the scrap, she pulled on the new, smaller, chef coat and pants. They fit perfectly. She was kind of surprised.

and a little impressed.

"Do you have a brush?" Chef asked as she glanced in the vanity mirror behind her.

Without a word, Bridget turned and pushed a tiny brush towards her. Chef's questioning eyes met Bridget's in the mirror.

"It's for when Poppy visits" She smiled.

Rolling her eyes, Chef got to work fixing her messy hair. It was strange-- Troll hair was thicker than Bergens. It felt silkier too. It was actually kind of nice. She never noticed that before… Even when she was gripping one by the scalp–

As she finished with her hair, Bridget placed two very small golden earrings next to her. She wondered if those were also Poppy's, but she didn't bother to question it and just went ahead and put them on.

"Oh, I also finished this while you were fixing your hair."

Chef turned to see the Bergen presenting a mini version of her fanny pack.

"How on earth did you manage to make all these?" She couldn't stop herself from asking. Her surprise was overriding her hatred for the woman.

"I learned how to do tiny sewing after Viva's socks ripped when she visited. The repair work was fun, so I got into making full outfits! It's a good stress reliever." She answered nonchalantly.

It felt almost like whiplash; seeing Bridget be so confident. She remembered when the young woman was a nervous wreck that couldn't even look her in the eye. Maybe it had to do with Chef being three inches now. Also, who the hell is Viva?

As the two continued with a small conversation, King Gristle suddenly came through the door.

“Babe, I was thinking we should visit the Trolls an– AAH!” He let out a scream as he threw his juice box out of reflex. If it wasn’t for Bridget’s own wonderfully fast reflexes, the box probably would’ve hit Chef.

“Aw man, my juice…”

Bridget looked nervously between her husband and the tiny Chef.

“Grissy! It’s not what it looks like!” She pleaded.

“CHAD! TODD!! COME QU–”

Bridget quickly got up and clapped her hand over Gristles mouth, shushing him. She pulled him into the room fully and shut the door. 

“Don’t call the guards! Please…?” She begged, waiting for him to nod before taking her hand off his mouth.

“What is she doing here?! And why is she a TROLL??” He was confused. To be fair, Bridget was just as confused. All she knew is that Chef needed help. 

Even if she WAS kind of evil. She couldn’t possibly be a threat at this size.

The two whispered about… something . The miniature woman couldn’t quite hear from her place on the vanity. Deciding it wasn’t important, she turned her attention back to the mirror and put her tiny fanny pack on. The fact it could open was a surprise; maybe she should praise the scullery maid for her handy work.

The Queen. Bridget is the queen. That was going to take some getting used to.

Looking in the mirror, Chef actually focused on herself. She gently moved her fingers along her now large ear; watching as they twitched reflexively. It was strange. Bergens have light peach-fuzz on their bodies, but Trolls have fur . It wasn’t very long; only about an inch or whatever measurement one would use at this size. Chef was lost in thought as she brushed her finger along the soft fur on her arm. She nearly had a heart attack when Bridget raised her voice.

“Chef!”

She startled and looked at the taller girl with furrowed eyebrows. Bridget mumbled a small apology and offered a smile. Gristle stepped closer to the dresser, causing Chef to tense. Was he going to grab her? Throw her out? He could easily kill her at this size…

“Would you be willing to go to Pop Village?” 

Oh. Okay. Maybe she shouldn’t assume the worst every time.

“Why would I want to go there?” Chef asked, raising a brow.

“Well… I don’t know how you became a Troll, but maybe the Trolls know a way to fix it?”

He had a point. If anyone understood their magic the most, it’d be themselves. Would they even be willing to help her? After all, she did nearly kill them– Wait. So did the other Bergens! Why would the Trolls stay mad at her and her alone? It’s not like she was the only one trying to eat them! If they forgave the others, maybe they would help her. Surely one of them knows something; it was worth a shot. She’s sure she could find them and even if they didn’t want to help. She could convince them. With force .

“You make a good point, my King. I’ll go find their village.”

Gristle’s face twisted a bit as he scoffed. That… Wasn’t the reaction she was hoping for? Honestly, she didn’t quite know what she was hoping for; but that wasn’t it. She figured she would just act the way she had when she was here before. Perhaps that was a bad choice.

“I’m not your king anymore. You were exiled, remember.” He crossed his arms with a smirk. Oh, what she wouldn’t do to be able to slap it off him.

“Besides, you don’t have to find them yourself. We can take you there– it’d be faster anyway.” He added, nodding his head towards Bridget. Why didn’t she think of that? Of course these two could get her there faster! She didn’t need to track down the village like she had to before, they already know its location. She should’ve tried befriending them before and just tricked them into coming to get eaten.

“Oh, goodie! I’ll go get the motorcycle!” She practically skipped out the door, commenting about how she’s been meaning to go visit Poppy anyway. Chef wasn’t sure if she heard that right.

“She’s going get the what ?”

Chapter Text

“COULD YOU SLOW DOWN?!”

Chef pleaded from her ‘seat’ in the side-bag on the bike; but her screaming fell on deaf ears. They couldn’t hear anything over the loud roar of the motorcycle combined with the hard wind. She was surprised that Bridget was the driver and not Gristle– How long has she had this thing? How long has she been able to drive ?!

Having no helmet on was bad, but not nearly as scary as how fast they were going. Bridget apparently had a need for speed . Every time they turned Chef for sure they’d crash. Thankfully, the queen was a good driver; something the Bergen-turned-Troll was both amazed at and glad for. Bridget just keeps surprising her. She doesn’t like it .

Sighing, she decided to just slip back down into the bag and wait. They’d been driving for nearly an hour now. How far out did the Trolls go, anyway? Did they even move from their last location where Chef found them? She ended up getting lost in her thoughts for a while and didn’t pay attention to the time. She had so much to think about. Like that dream…

Flores. 

Who was she exactly? Why was she in Chef's dream? Did she know why this transformation happened?

Bridget's voice from outside the side-bag dragged her attention back to reality.

“We’re almost there! I see the forest up ahead!” The Bergen called out, yelling over the roar of the bike. Poking her head out of the bag, Chef steeled herself and managed to climb her way closer to Gristle. Grabbing his shirt and pulling herself up onto his shoulder, Chef raised her head to look. A large, lush forest grew closer from the distance. It was most certainly the same one. So they hadn’t moved their village again after all. She couldn’t help but jump in excitement; she was almost there! So close to the possibility of fixing this mess!

Except jumping was a terrible idea when you’re on a moving vehicle.

A loud shriek tore from her lips as she flew back and nearly got herself splattered on the pavement. She really hoped being this small didn’t mean near death experiences were around every corner; and if they were… She’d probably choose to just let go of the cape right now.

Gristle noticed pretty quickly what had happened and pulled her back before shoving her back into the side-bag. This time however, he closed it. Chef wriggled herself upright and began banging on the sides of the bag, yelling to be let out or at least for them to open the bag until she figured that Gristle and Bridget couldn’t hear her between the wall of leather and the engine of the bike. Well, at least the forest was close, Right? She wouldn’t have to be closed in here for long… Right?

Wrong.

How far into the forest do these Trolls live?! Chef nearly fell asleep before the rumbling stopped and she heard muffled voices outside. Finally they’ve arrived!

Jumping up and hitting the top of the bag, she tried to get one of the Bergens' attention.

“Hey! Open this damn bag!” She yelled. Unfortunately, no one answered. Mumbling a few expletives, Chef sat on the floor of the bag and waited. Listening closely, she could hear Bridget talking to someone. Poppy, she assumed; though she couldn’t tell what exactly was being said. She could tell however, that Bridget was coming closer.

“So, like… Don’t freak out or anything.” The girl spoke as she opened the bag and gently picked up the lilac Troll inside. Turning around and presenting Chef in the palm of her hand, she let out a small ‘ta-da’.

Chef looked down to see a crowd of Trolls, Queen Poppy at the front with that weird grey Troll beside her. Though, his colours looked brighter now. Wonder how that works.

“Is that… the Bergen Chef?” Poppy spoke with a look of utter confusion on her face as she pointed up to Bridgets hand. The lilac woman couldn’t help but smirk.

“Well, glad I’m still so recognizable.” 

“ THAT'S who we have to help? We’ll pass, thank you. She can take this as karma” The grumpy Troll man yelled up at Chef with a glare. What was his name again?

He placed his hands on Poppy’s shoulders and attempted to push her back through the crowd and towards the bunker, but the queen stayed put.

“Oh, come on Branch! This is something super weird! We gotta do something about it!!”

Ah, there it is. Branch just watched as the pink Troll bounced up and down excitedly. Chef wasn’t sure if she was eager to help someone, or if there was some ulterior motive to it. Branch tapped his finger against his chin and hummed loudly before glancing away from Poppy with a smirk.

“Alright. We can experiment. I’m sure we’ll find something to help her.”

Chef didn’t like that look he had in his eyes. Even from far away she could feel the malice behind the smirk. Whatever he had planned, it couldn’t be good.

Poppy didn’t even seem to notice the obvious venom in her little boyfriend's tone; instead she simply clapped her hands and skipped closer to Bridget as she rambled about various things they could do with the new Troll. Chef wasn’t listening, she was too busy being locked in a staring competition with the man. As the Bergen holding her moved to put her down on the grass, she quickly made a note to herself to avoid the grey one at all cost . Hesitantly, Chef stepped off of Bridget's hand and let her eyes slip off of Branch to look at the pink Troll in front of her. Before she could even speak, Poppy started flapping her hands and talking about the ‘fun things’ they could do. Chef could barely keep up with how fast the girl was talking.

As Poppy spoke, she got closer; and as she got closer, Chef took a step back. Noticing this, the queen stopped and her smile fell.

“Are you ok?” Poppy looked her up and down, even circling her to get a better look.

Why was she acting concerned? Why wasn’t she scared? Chef glanced at her own hands, noticing she was shaking.

Why was she scared?

“How long have you been like this?”

Looking up at the Troll queen, the new Troll hesitated to speak. She didn’t really know the answer– how long was she asleep before she woke up to find herself in this nightmare? It had only been… a couple of hours? Chef looked away, deciding the grass was more interesting than the face of the Troll she was talking to. At least it wasn’t as bright or glittery.

“Nearly a day? I’m not actually sure…” She answered truthfully. It’s not like lying would get her anywhere closer to fixing this mess. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Branch approach and place his hand on Poppy’s shoulder. Chef didn’t like him this close. The grass wasn’t that interesting anymore; Instead, she made eye contact with the man. His ear twitched slightly before he moved his own eyes to look at his girlfriend instead. Oh, he didn’t like that did he? She couldn’t help but smile at that small, insignificant win. At least, she thought of it as a win.

“A better question would be HOW did you get like this?”

There it was. Of course the question would be asked, she knew that. Though, she wasn’t sure how to answer it. Saying she ate the moldy, mummified corpse of their own kind she found in a freezer would most likely get her kicked out of the village. If Branch didn’t choke her out first. She needed to answer carefully. Perhaps lying a little wouldn’t be so bad. A half truth even.

“I tried to make something to replicate the effects of eating a Troll. As you could see, it didn’t exactly have the desired effect.” She furrowed her brow and crossed her arms. She refused to even look at Poppy, keeping all her attention on Branch. Some part of her enjoyed the way he seemed to get more uncomfortable the longer she stared. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other and kept looking around at anything but her. Why did eye contact have this effect on him? She wouldn’t call it squirming . Though, she’d like to see it get there.

“Ok… What did you use? Obviously something caused this”

Chef hummed as she proceeded to run down the list of every single thing she tried– minus the corpse, obviously. They didn’t need to know the full list of ingredients. Poppy seemed to take a bit of joy at the items that were listed. She giggled and covered her mouth to stop from laughing too loud. Branch just looked at her and lightly shook his head.

“So, this just happened because of a weird soup?” The queen continued to giggle behind her hand. That was certainly one way to put it.

“We can try just making another weird soup with the opposite of everything you used and see if that works” She added, putting her hands on her hips and cocking her head to the side. Branch put his hand on his face and sighed.

“I don’t think that’s how it works, Poppy” He commented.

Chef looked over to Bridget and Gristle while the two Trolls exchanged ideas. They were getting ready to climb up on the bike– Were they leaving already?

“Where are you two going?” She spoke up loudly, getting the attention of not only the Bergens, but also the Trolls. The two shared a few whispers before Bridget looked back at Chef and knelt down to speak; something she often did with the other Trolls that didn’t like being held.

“We have to go back to Bergen Town, but we’ll be back in a few days–”

“A few days! You’re just going to leave me here?!” Chef yelled, cutting her off. She stomped her foot and nearly growled at the Bergen. Bridget looked to Poppy for help, but she just shrugged. Gristle walked up behind his wife and quirked a brow before speaking in an almost mocking tone. As if he thought she was stupid.

“We don’t really have a choice? It’s not like we can help you with this. The Trolls are your best bet, so just stay here and they’ll probably fix you up in no time.” 

Bridget just nodded her head in agreement and looked at the small woman with pleading eyes. They had a point, Chef knew that; but the way Gristle spoke made her blood boil. That condescending tone, the way he looked at her, the fact he was now bigger than her .

The fact it was the same tone she would use on him.

She huffed and grit her teeth together as Poppy approached her again, this time placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Look, I know that given… everything – You don’t want to really be here; but I promise, we can and will help you.” She offered the purple Troll a comforting smile.

Chef hated the way it looked. The way they smile makes her want to choke them. She hates just looking at them. How is she going to survive living with them for who knows how long until this is fixed? Maybe if she just doesn’t leave whatever house they stick her in, she’ll be fine.

She shot a glare at Poppy with enough anger in it that she quickly removed her hand from Chef’s shoulder as if it had burned her.

“Fine. I’ll stay, but I’m not being ‘roomies’ with any of you” She spoke through clenched teeth. 

It seems the fear she put into Poppy faded as soon as she agreed to stay. The pink Troll quickly nodded, smiling so wide Chef thought her face would split in half.

“That’s ok! I have the perfect house for you to stay in. It’s a good walk away from the village, so it’s nice and peaceful!” Poppy spoke as she turned and walked back to Branch, motioning for Chef to follow her. 

She took a moment to shoot one final glare at the Bergens as they prepared to leave. Bridget seemed upset at that, but Gristle just rolled his eyes and shot a glare back. Reluctantly, she turned and followed the two Trolls.

The walk was quiet for the most part. Branch would speak up to ask questions every now and again, but Chef would reply with simple noises instead of clear answers. He eventually gave up asking for now. The house they mentioned was a small, peach and teal pod. Instead of dangling from a tree or other plant like the others; this one was on the ground.

“It’s a little duller than the other ones since It’s been empty for so long, but I don’t think it’s too bad.” Poppy commented as she walked up and leaned against the pod.

“Good, it won’t burn my eyes like the rest of your village.”

Poppy simply rolled her eyes and opened the door, completely ignoring the woman's negative comment and attitude. As the two girls entered the pod, Chef looked around with an unimpressed face.

“This is what you all live in?” She motioned around at the rather empty home.

“Well, like I said it’s been empty for a while so it needs to be cleaned. You can also put whatever you want in it! I’m sure you’ll find something to decorate it with.” Poppy spun around and began rambling about all the possible glitter, flowers and other random items Chef could put inside.

“You could always sleep outside. I’m sure you’re used to that.”

Glancing over to the door, Chef noticed Branch’s smug smile as he leaned against the opening. She made her way closer to the smirking Troll and smiled before deciding maybe now was the time to make him squirm. Both of them tuned out Poppy’s rambling as Chef got as close to Branch as she could without actually touching him. Quietly, she started making threats.

“Usually you’re supposed to be nice to the people helping you” Branch mumbled. He’d glance over to Poppy every now and again.

“Oh, I’m sorry, you’re right. Would you like a hug ?” She offered with a sinister smile. Branch tried to make a comment, probably a smug response, but Chef didn’t give him time to respond before she opened her arms and made a motion to grab him. While he didn’t squirm like she wanted, he did jump back and trip over his own feet. She couldn’t help but laugh as she stared down at him on the ground. It felt good. The commotion seemed to get the pink Trolls attention as well. 

Poppy quickly rushed out of the pod to help her boyfriend up; a few worried comments and questions tumbling out of her mouth in the process. Dusting himself off Branch growled out a small swear, glaring at Chef.

“Didn’t know you were so afraid of hugs” The lilac Troll spoke in a smug tone. As it should be . She should be the one mocking others, not the one being mocked. Branch just huffed and turned, leaving without a word. Poppy glanced between the two of them before deciding it’s better to leave the woman alone for a while and ran off to go home with Branch.

Slamming the door, Chef put her back against it and slid down to the floor with a huff. What was she going to do with herself? Who knows how long fixing this would take– she couldn’t go back to Bergen Town without the help of Bridget and Gristle, so that was out of the question. She was basically exiled again . She couldn’t tell the Trolls EXACTLY how this happened, or they’d refuse to help at all.

But was not telling them about the corpse going to help?

Glancing around the room, she wondered who this house belonged to before. There wasn’t anything inside; maybe the other Trolls had cleaned it out. Did the last occupant die? Perhaps they moved in with someone else after deciding they didn’t like being so far away? It didn’t matter; it was hers now. For now at least. Decorating it seemed useless if she wasn’t going to be here very long… She hoped it wouldn’t be long at least.

Sighing, Chef got up and walked over to the only piece of furniture in the entire pod. The bed was a little dusty, but she’ll take it. Like Branch said, she’s used to sleeping on the ground outside; dust wasn’t a problem. She’s slept on worse. She simply patted it off the pillow before climbing in bed and settling down. It wasn’t too bad. It was actually quite comfortable. She wondered if Branch would be back in the morning to harass her with more questions; hopefully not. Maybe if she hugs him hard enough, she could crack a rib and he’d stay away for good.

But… that wouldn’t help. She has to talk to him if she wants to solve her situation. She could break them once she’s a Bergen again.

Smiling to herself, she closed her eyes and thought about all the ways she could torture the little Trolls once this is all over. It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep.

🔪🔪🔪

But sleep isn’t always restful.

Opening her eyes, she was met with the sight of the same black, starless sky from before. Great, exactly what she wanted, to be back in Hell again. Sitting up, she realized she could see her body this time. She was still a Troll, but all of her colour was gone. Peculiar.

“Oh… That’s interesting.”

Quickly flipping around, Chef’s eyes landed on the same pink Troll from the last time she was in this place. What was her name again? Florence? Fluoride?

“It’s Flores.” She answered. Right, this woman could hear her thoughts. Looking around a bit more, she noticed that instead of the cliff by the sea where she was last time, they were in the middle of the strange forest the Troll came out of last time.

“I… Didn’t actually expect you to show up again. Especially not as a Troll.” Flores continued, walking over to where Chef was still sitting on the ground.

“Where am I?” Her own voice startled her as it came out. She couldn’t speak last time, she didn’t expect that to change. Well, she does have a body this time. 

“This place doesn’t really have a name” Flores shrugged.

The blonde Troll knelt down next to her and plucked some of the navy grass from the ground. Seeing her up close and actually taking time to really look at her, Chef could notice things she didn’t last time. The small leaves and flowers in her hair, the glitter on her cheeks, the way her hair became transparent towards the ends. Her arms and legs faded to grey towards her hands and feet. Her eyes seemed duller than other Trolls. Is this what ghost Trolls were like?

“Not sure, never seen another ghost Troll” She answered.

“That wasn’t a question for you– and stop doing that!” Chef yelled at her. Her voice seemed to echo much louder than it would normally. Though, things weren’t exactly normal here. Flores just chuckled softly before apologizing softly.

“I’ll try not to. Your thoughts are just really loud.”

Chef couldn’t figure out exactly why this Troll seemed content in her presence. Why didn’t she just leave? Why stay around the Bergen who ate her? Sure she was dead already, but still!

“One, you aren’t a Bergen anymore and two, I haven’t had interaction in… how many years have I been dead? I don’t remember exactly, but I’ll take what I can get” She didn’t even flinch when Chef glared at her for once again listening to her thoughts.

“I’ll be back to a Bergen in no time, I’m sure. Then maybe I won’t have to see you or this place ever again.” Chef laid back down and just stared at the empty sky. Unlike last time, she could feel things now. Like the soft grass and the fact it was cold. She couldn’t help but rub her hands together for a little warmth. Flores took a moment to respond.

“No you won’t.” 

Chef stilled before turning her head to look at the ghostly Troll. She was just staring at her with a blank expression while still picking at the grass.

“W…What did you say?”

Flores just looked away and stayed silent. Chef quickly threw herself up off the ground and grabbed the Troll by her shirt straps before yelling in her face.

“WHAT DID YOU SAY?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN!?” She shook her, but didn’t get a response. The pink woman refused to look at her or even show any emotion on her face. Chef let go and knelt back down in front of her, their knees nearly touching.

“Please…” She begged. Then finally, the Troll looked back at her.  Flores sighed and shook her head before giving her an almost sad smile.

“I don’t know why, or how I know… But I don’t think they can fix you.”

Looking down at the grass, Chef ran her own hand over the grass and plucked a few blades just like the Troll in front of her was doing. Her face felt hot. What if Flores is right? What if the Trolls can’t fix this? It’s not like she could blame anyone– she did this to herself.

“Hey, it’s ok– it’s not that bad I promise. You can make friends with the other Trolls. You don’t have to cry.” Flores spoke softly as she touched Chef's face and brushed a few tears away. When did she start crying?

She wanted to push her away– slap her hand and tell her not to baby her. To deny that she was crying at all; but she couldn’t. She just sat there, letting this ghost comfort her in a way no one has in a long time. Not ever her own mother.

“This place isn’t as bad as you think… I can show you around here until it’s time to wake up, if you’d like.” She spoke gently as she brushed Chef’s bangs a bit to the side. A nod was her only answer as the two got up.

Flores led her around the strange forest. This place seemed to shift around them– One moment there would be an inky black stream, but if they looked away it would vanish and be replaced with something else just as fast. While it unnerved Chef, Flores called it fascinating. Beautiful , even. Together they looked at the trees and even picked some of the ruby-like fruit. Why they were even collecting them, she didn’t know; but if Flores wanted to do it, who was she to stop her. They couldn’t tell the passage of time here, or at least Chef couldn’t. Though, Flores seemed to know exactly what time it was in the other world. How?

While walking, Flores suddenly stopped. The living of the two simply hummed in question as she looked back at the ghost. She looked upset. Chef didn’t like that look on her. The pink Troll crossed her arms in an almost self-comforting kind of way before speaking.

“It’s… time for you to go.” Chef felt her smile drop. When did she start smiling in the first place?

“I’ll see you next time?” She continued with a small, hopeful smile.

Thinking for a second, Chef stepped closer to the pink Troll. Unsure of what to do, she offered her hand. Flores just looked at it for a second before giggling and accepting it. The handshake was short, but good enough to bring the smile back to the ghost's face and… Chef liked seeing that.

“Next time.” The lilac Troll answered as the world around began to fade into the void. Letting go of Flores hand, she closed her eyes. In the next moment, she was back in bed in the pod. She stared at the ceiling and thought about her experience in that place. With Flores. She couldn’t help but smile a bit. She was nice. She seemed different from the other Trolls. Almost motherly. That, or maybe it’s just been a long time since Chef had someone comfort her. Her smile quickly faded and the typical frown replaced it as she heard the familiar sound of Poppy's voice approach her house.

Even if Flores suggested it, there's no way Chef could make friends with those things .

Chapter Text

“Oh good, you’re up!”

Chef looked at Poppy with a hard glare that the pink woman didn’t even seem to notice. She didn’t even need to knock on the door before Chef had opened it, she could hear her from a mile away. Literally .

“Come on then!” Poppy motioned and turned on her heel. She took a few steps then stopped when she noticed the lilac Troll wasn’t following.

“And where exactly do you want me to follow you?” Chef asked, leaning against the doorway. Poppy came here alone, so Chef had a few ideas of what she wanted. Maybe she wants to pick flowers or have buddy time. Ew.

“I’m taking you to the bunker. Branch wants to try some tests to see if we can find out how to reverse the whole Bergen-to-Troll problem.”

Oh.

“What exactly does ‘test’ mean?” Chef squinted a bit. That didn’t sound good, whatever it was. She hoped it wasn’t needles. Poppy just shrugged and turned to continue walking. Sighing, Chef followed. Surprisingly, the queen was near silent on the walk to the bunker. She didn’t even know the Troll was able to stop talking. She was humming though. Oh well, it’s better than awkward silence. 

There were apparently many ways into the bunker. Poppy decided to take Chef through the main elevator entrance; claiming it was easier than the pole, but not as fun.

What the hell was the pole?

The elevator was slow and Chef was getting uncomfortable having to stand so close to the queen. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. Soon they reached the ground and Poppy guided her subject to a room off to the side that contained nothing more than a table, a smaller side table and Branch. Almost as soon as she entered the room, the glaring match was back on. Her red eyes glanced to the side table the pale Troll was standing next to. She couldn’t tell what was on it, but she knew it was reflective. Metal .

“Come sit on the table so I can start the tests.” Branch basically demanded.

Grumbling, but complying; Chef hopped up on the table and looked at Poppy with an uneasy expression. She was never the best with doctors and being closer to the side table, she could see the multiple needles.

“I know damn good and well you aren’t planning to poke and prod me with those…” She hissed out between clenched teeth.

“Oh I plan on it, yes” The man responded with a smirk. Poppy quietly scolded him and told him to be nice. He simply rolled his eyes.

“We have to do blood tests, it’s important” He added with his arms crossed.

Chef adjusted herself on the table and took a deep breath. He was right, of course. S he hated to admit that. But could he even do this? He’s not a doctor… is he?

“Are you trained to do this? You don’t seem smart enough to be a doctor.” She smirked along with the last comment.

“He’s not, but he knows a bit about survival and first aid so…” Poppy quickly cut in. Chef’s smirk dropped in an instance. Does he even have the technology to test the blood? Does he even know what he’s looking for?! Her thoughts were interrupted by Branch’s hand on her arm. She jerked it away upon instinct and Branch just held his hand up. With a needle in the other.

“If we’re going to do this, you have to calm down and pull up your sleeve” 

She let out a small whine– A pathetic little sound that she was instantly embarrassed came out of her. The smirk on Branch's face at the sound was enough to make her snarl. He took joy in her suffering. Little prick.

“Branchifer, that is not good bedside manner!” 

Poppy spoke sternly, causing Branch to blush and look towards the floor. He cleared his throat and mumbled a small apology. Interesting. Quickly, he straightened back up and looked at Chef, gesturing to her sleeve. She glanced between the two Trolls and the three syringes. Taking another deep breath and rolling up her sleeve, she clutched the sides of the table. She could do this. It won’t be that bad.

It won’t be that bad. Just don’t look at the needle.

She stared at Poppy instead. Her smile never fell and as much as Chef hated it… it was a bit comforting. She felt Branch tie a tourniquet around her upper arm and spray disinfectant on the inside of her elbow. Her nails dug into the table.

“How… How much do you need?” She asked slowly. Branch gave a thoughtful hum before responding.

“Three vials”

Oh splendid.

She stayed quiet and chewed on her lip, her eyes slipping from Poppy and looking around the room trying to find a distraction. She closed her eyes as soon as she felt the needle enter her skin.

“You ok?” She heard Poppy ask, but she didn’t dare open her eyes. She didn’t want to see the damn needle .

She continued to take deep breaths as Branch removed the first needle. God, a venipuncture needle would make this so much easier than the fucking syringe . She grit her teeth and whined again when she felt the second needle. This was torture . She’s sure if she could see his face, Branch would be smiling at her pain. She could hear Poppy saying something, but she didn’t pay attention enough to make it out. Was this even worth it? Flores said they couldn’t fix her.

But how did she know that?

Maybe Flores was wrong. They can fix her, they just have to run tests. She’ll take as many tests as it takes. She wants to go back to normal. She wants to go home.

“Chef?”

She felt a soft hand on her other arm and opened her eyes. It was Poppy. Why does she look so concerned?

Glancing over she noticed Branch with the same expression. What happened? She looked around trying to figure out why they both seemed so worried, when she noticed a weird taste in her mouth. Looking down, she noticed blood on her shirt. She looked back at her arm to see it was wrapped and the three syringes full. When did he put the third needle in?

She was suddenly aware of how hard she was breathing along with a pain in her face. Touching her mouth with her hand, Chef realized she must have bit her lip too hard. Looking at the blood on her hand (paw?) she noticed the colour. Instead of red, like a Bergen– It was a dark magenta. Moving her hand, she saw how specks of glitter danced and shimmered under the light. She never knew Troll blood looked like that.

“Hey, are you feeling ok?”

Chef looked up at Poppy before she registered that it was Branch that asked. Why was he the one asking?

“I’m fine. Are we done now?” She sounded tired.

“Uh… Yeah– Poppy?” He motioned for her, saying something quietly that Chef didn’t bother to pay attention to. She continued to watch the blood on her hand shimmer under the light. It was much prettier than her own. Well, she supposed this IS her blood now, isn’t it?

A pink hand entered her vision and gently took hold of her wrist. Looking up she watched as Poppy cleaned her up with a wet rag. She didn’t fight it. She felt too tired to. After making sure she didn’t do any real damage to her lip, the queen helped her up and brought her to the kitchen. Chef absentmindedly played with the bandage on her arm. Would the Troll blood stain her shirt how Bergen blood did?

“Here”

Poppy held out a cookie to her. It was massive; Nearly the size of her head! Did trolls normally eat like that? Come to think of it, she hasn’t eaten anything since…

Well, since she ate Flores.

Chef accepted the cookie and just looked at it. Poppy’s expression grew more worried at the Bergen-turned-Troll’s strange and out of character reactions.

“Do… you not like funfetti?” Chef simply glanced up at Poppy and glared. There it is. Poppy’s smile returned as she let out a sigh and put her hands on her hips. Yeah, Chef’s fine.

“I’m pretty sure the only food in that old pod are crackers or cereal… Do you want to come with me to get other stuff?” The pink Troll offered. Chef thought about it as she slowly nibbled on the cookie. Her stomach hurt from lack of food. Maybe it would be a good idea to stock the house.

Nodding, she followed Poppy back to the elevator. The ride up was less bothersome than the first trip down. As they walked around the village, Chef busied herself with continuing to nibble the massive cookie. She didn’t even seem bothered when Poppy gave her an occasional tap on the arm to get her attention. A few minutes into their shopping trip (could it be called that?) Poppy noticed a few of her friends and waved them down.

“Now that you’re one of us, you should meet some others! It’ll help you settle in while we look for a way to change you back.”

Chef growled a bit at the thought. The last thing she wanted was to mingle with other Trolls. She wants to be alone. She only agreed to this to stock the house with food so she doesn’t starve to death. Despite her reaction, Poppy continued to call over three friends. One of them looked familiar, but she’d never seen the other two before.

“This is Cooper, Delta Dawn and Clay!” She introduced the three enthusiastically. The last two greeted with little waves and comments, but Cooper just stared with wide eyes.

Chef didn’t really notice given she was staring at Delta Dawn with the same expression. Was she a horse ?

“Uh, Poppy? Is that the Bergen lady that tried to EAT us a while back or am I trippin’?” Cooper attempted to whisper, but it didn’t exactly work. Chef shot a glance over to him. Ah, that’s why he looked familiar.

“She did what now?” Delta’s eyes bounced between Chef, Cooper and Poppy in surprise.

“You said Bergen ? She doesn’t exactly look like one– they’re kinda big” Clay motioned to her with a disbelieving face. Chef wanted to bite his hand, but she refrained. Her eyebrow twitched as Cooper squinted at her and leaned in closer. Don’t bite.

“Yeaaaah, long story– BUT, yes that’s her. Branch is doing tests to find out why she turned into a Troll.” Poppy quickly put herself between the curious quadruped and the lilac Troll. She knew by the look on Chef’s face that she might be feeling a bit homicidal. Poppy was probably starting to regret her choices right about now.

“I have a question.” Chef spoke up from behind Poppy. The queen simply looked back with a small smile and tilt of the head.

“Why is that woman a horse?”

Delta couldn’t stop herself from laughing. She reared up and kicked her front legs out in amusement. The display made the purple Troll back up a bit. Cooper joined her in the laughter while Clay and Poppy just watched. Chef didn’t understand why they had this reaction, but she felt like she asked a stupid question. She didn’t like it and it was quickly pissing her off. Delta calmed down and hummed before moving closer and extending her hand.

“I’m a Country Troll– Delta Dawn, mayor and sheriff of Lonesome Flats. Nice t’ meet ya” She introduced herself formally. Chef glanced between her hand and her face. Hesitantly, she reacted out and shook her hand.

“Nice uh… to meet you too?” She was still a bit confused, but she guessed if there were Trolls like Cooper , then Trolls could look like anything. Lonesome Flats, wherever it is, didn’t seem close. She’d never heard of it at least. She couldn’t help her curiosity.

“If your village is somewhere else, why are you here?” She asked, releasing Delta’s hand. The Country Troll seemed a bit surprised at the forward question, but not offended.

“I’m here visitin’--”

“She’s visiting her boyfriend” Clay cut in, causing Delta to fluster.

“Don’t make me kick you!” She yelled back as she bucked the air as an example. Clay just chuckled and held his hands up while apologizing.

Chef looked between the three. They were all so… different . Yet they were still friendly with each other. How many other Troll types exist? Did they ALL get along, or was it just these specific ones? If Delta is ‘Country’ then what is Poppy? Her eyes slid over to Poppy who was just watching the play fight with amusement in her eyes. She seemed to take notice of Chef’s staring as pink eyes met red.

“Wha–”

“What are you?” Chef blurted out. Poppy looked at her absolutely confused.

“Um… excuse me?”

Chef’s eyes widened and she started fumbling over her words. She didn’t mean to say it like that! It came off a bit meaner than she meant.

Wait.

WHY DID SHE CARE?!

She groaned before throwing her hands in the air.

“TYPE! WHAT TYPE TROLL ARE YOU?” She crossed her arms and looked away from the pink Troll in front of her. Her eyes instead landed on the other three who were just looking back at her dumbfounded. Oh, she felt stupid.

“Oh! I’m a Pop Troll. Technically everybody in this village is– it’s Pop Village after all” Poppy answered with a snort. She thought for a second before motioning to Cooper. 

“Except Cooper, he’s a Funk Troll that was raised by Pop Trolls, so…”

“I’m a Pop-Funk Troll!” He finished for her happily. Chef didn’t understand all this. Were they all music genres? Is that how it worked? She looked with confusion between Poppy and Cooper before glancing down at her own hands. Was she a Pop Troll too? If this village is all Pop Trolls, was… was Flores a Pop Troll?

Shaking her head she looked back at Poppy.

“Can we finish getting food so I can go back to my house? I don’t want to socialize with anyone more than I absolutely have to” She couldn’t stress enough that she didn’t want to make friends. She just wanted to be fixed and go back to living by herself.

In the woods.

Ok, maybe if she’s on her best behaviour Gristle might let her come back to Bergen Town. Yes, that’ll do . She could convince Bridget if the King says no. He seems to be a pushover for his wife after all.

Poppy quickly said bye to her friends and continued on with Chef. Despite her insistence to just finish their trip and go home, Poppy still talked and introduced her to several other Trolls. Chef just decided to stop talking to them and it seemed to work. The small talk lasted less than two minutes. The whole shopping trip itself lasted a couple hours at most; the sun was already going down by the time they got back to her pod and put the stuff away.

“Oh, before I go– I did get you a gift while you weren’t looking”

Chef stared at her with a frown. Of course she’d do that.

“Tada! Some decor for your house!” Poppy held up a crocheted flower in a purple vase. Chef just stared at it with mild confusion. She mumbled a small, awkward ‘thank you’ as she accepted it from the smiling pink Troll.

“I’ll let you know whenever Branch is done with the blood test– Goodnight!” Poppy’s goodbye was quick and spontaneous as she basically ran out of the pod. She couldn’t wait to get away from her, huh.

Looking at the fake plant in her hands, Chef looked around the room for somewhere to put it. There really weren't any tables or shelves to put it on. Not even a stool . Placing it down on the floor, she made her way outside and hauled a large rock inside to use as a side table. Placing the flower on it, she tilted her head. It didn’t look awful . She should think about getting actual furniture. Even if this was temporary, she didn’t have to live in a barren home. Ah well, that was a thought for tomorrow. 

Making her way to the kitchenette, she started to prepare herself dinner. She missed cooking. It wasn’t too different from when she was big actually. The ingredients were just a tad bit different. While eating dinner, she thought about maybe asking Flores how Troll hygiene works next time she sees her. If every time she slept she went to that place, that would be… nice ? Did it work like a dream? She’s only been asleep twice since this whole thing, so there's a chance it wasn’t an every night occurrence. 

After cleaning her dishes, she quickly tucked herself into bed; she felt exhausted from the whole situation with the needles and the unwanted conversations with other Trolls. There was only one Troll that Chef thought of as being anywhere near a friend… and she hoped she would see her tonight.

Only one way to find out.

🔪🔪🔪

It seemed it WAS a nightly thing; just like a dream. She’d woken up face down in the navy coloured grass. It smelled almost salty? Strange . Looking around, she noticed Flores was already crouched next to her.

“Find anything interesting on the ground?” She asked with a smile. Chef just hummed a negative and stood up, dusting herself off. Seems this time she spawned in a clearing.

“Did you just say you spawned?”

“Is that wrong?” She asked, looking back at the blonde.

“Mm… I guess not, haha” 

Observing her, Chef took note of her attire. A flowing white dress with thick shoulder straps. Is it what she wore when she was alive or was it something she just has here? As the thought crossed her mind, she looked at Flores expectantly, waiting for her to respond.

“What?” The ghost asked, tilting her head.

“I know you heard that” Chef watched as she put her hands on her hips and rolled her blue eyes.

“Duh, but you told me to stop doing that” She responded with a pout. The lilac Troll couldn’t help but chuckle at her face.

“I don’t think I mind it anymore” Chef spoke as she stepped past her… friend. Yes . She thinks of Flores as a friend. That sounds right to her at least. The two walked around for a while in silence. Occasionally, one of them would point out the appearance of a new landmark and they’d have small passing comments about it. Chef enjoyed the shared silence. It seemed Flores was just happy to have someone around.

“Back to your question; no, I didn’t wear this before. It just kinda showed up when I… spawned as you put it” She sounded so smug, but it didn’t hold any malice or mean spirited teasing. Just playful. Her face grew soft as she locked her hands together in front of her before speaking again.

“Do you really think of me as a friend?” She asked with a hopeful smile.

“I…” Chef hesitated. She never had any friends before, it was new to her. If she was honest with herself. She was kind of scared to make any.

But…

“Yes. I think I do”

Flores smiled happily and grabbed the lilac Trolls hands before pulling and twirling around with her. For the first time, Chef felt happy. Is this what the Trolls feel? Is this why Poppy was trying to get her to make friends?

The spinning suddenly stopped as Flores looked at Chef with wide, shocked eyes. She seemed upset again, but why?

“Did… did you say Poppy?”

Chef opened her mouth to speak but felt the ground give way beneath her. She tried to grab Flores but her arms just phased through her as both of them screamed.

Suddenly sitting up in bed with a yelp, Chef looked around the room. Why was she awake? What woke her up? Her eyes scanned the room nervously, but nothing seemed wrong. Even if someone WAS in her home, there wasn’t anywhere for them to hide. Laying back down, she was about to close her eyes when she noticed.

The vase wasn’t on the rock anymore. A chill ran down her spine as laid there, refusing to sit up. Instead, she glanced to the ground and there it was . The vase was shattered . That’s what woke her up– but how did it fall and break all by itself?

She felt too scared to move. She hadn’t been this scared in a long time. Being ripped from her ‘dream’ world and the shattered vase with no explanation made her uneasy. Something was in here with her, something had to be.

A sliding sound from the other side of the bed made her hold her breath. It sounded like something sliding out from under the bed. Maybe she should’ve roomed with someone else…

Deciding it’s fight or die to whatever it was in her pod, she threw herself out of the bed and faced whatever it was behind her. What she wasn’t expecting was the silhouette of a Troll. It was too dark to make out features or colours, but she could tell from the hair it wasn’t Poppy.

“W-who are you!?” She yelled at the figure but it just stayed silent and motionless. Was her mind playing tricks on her? Was she seeing things? Maybe… except–

“What are you doing in my house?”

–Tricks of the light don’t talk.

Chapter Text

She wasn’t going crazy!

But, she WAS freaking out– as soon as the stranger spoke, Chef booked it out the door. She ran as fast as she could to the bunker and started to scream for Poppy or Branch. Luckily, it didn’t take long for the male Troll to respond to the sound of potential danger.

“WHATS GOING ON!?” He all but threw himself up out of the bunker and looked at Chef. He’d be mad if she didn’t look so panicked.

“Someone is IN MY HOUSE!!” She yelled as she grabbed Branch by the arms. Instead of pushing her off, he grabbed her arms back and tried to calm her down. As he asked questions about who it was or what they looked like, Chef noticed more people come out of the bunker. She looked over to see Poppy sleepily rub her eyes. Looking at the others, she recognized Clay from earlier, but the other two she had no idea. How many people live in that fucking bunker?!

“JD! Get your bat!” Branch commanded as he let go of Chef and pulled out brass knuckles from his robe.

Oh … So when he made threats, he probably wasn’t lying. Especially if he sleeps with weapons .

The stocky, green-haired Troll– presumably JD, let out an excited yell as he threw himself back into the bunker. Poppy, now wide awake at the mention and sight of weapons, decided it was her turn to grab Chef.

“What’s going on?!” She shook her by the shoulders. Chef was starting to calm down at this point and just gently pushed the pink Troll off of her.

“Someones in my house– but other than that, WHY do you have that just ON you?!” She motioned to Branch and his surprise brass knuckles. He just shrugged.

“Can’t be unprepared” Chef just stared at him in disbelief as he responded so nonchalantly. As if he wasn’t just prepared to beat the shit out of someone as soon as he wakes up. She thought Trolls were peaceful . So what the hell is this?!

JD quickly returned with not only a bat that had nails in it, but multiple other weapons. He passed them out to the other Trolls. He even handed a kitchen knife to Chef.

Well… She wasn’t opposed to stabbing someone actually.

Branch led the group back to Chef's pod. Given that the light was now on, it meant whoever broke in was still there. Branch quickly began to lay out a plan.

“Plan-schman! I’m goin for it!” JD yelled as he leaped out from behind the bush and ran towards the pod.

“ GOD DAMN IT JOHN! ” Branch screeched, following after the shorter Troll. Just like that, all six of them were running in, weapons at the ready. 

As soon as everyone else was at the door, JD quickly turned and stopped them all.

“Hold on! I don’t think this guys’ much of a threat…” He quickly tried to calm the group.

“Don’t care, I’m still stabbing” Chef spoke up, earning a small snort from the short, pink and white haired Troll next to her. JD glanced back behind him before looking at Chef with pleading eyes.

“This guy’s hurt real bad…” He whispered.

That was enough for them all to lower their weapons. 

Well, all except for Chef– Who was still very intent on maiming whoever broke in, whether they were injured or not.

Poppy grabbed the lilac Trolls arm to keep her from assaulting whatever poor, injured Troll broke in for help. Getting a nod from Poppy to assure she has Chef somewhat controlled, JD stepped to the side and let everyone in. Upon seeing who was inside, Branch groaned. Poppy managed to nudge past Clay and, like her boyfriend, made a sound of disappointment before yelling.

“ Creek?! ”

Looking for herself, Chef saw a face she recognised instantly and realized why that voice– and accent– sounded so familiar.

Sitting on the floor in front of the bed was a very injured and bloody Creek. His bright, ombre hair was matted and filthy. It looked like he was attacked by something out in the wilderness. His arm hung limp at his side with patches of missing fur. Apparently, there was a first aid kit somewhere in the pod; he had pulled it out and haphazardly patched himself up to stop from bleeding out.

“What are you doing back here?” Branch asked coldly as he walked over and crouched next to the beat-up purple Troll. His purple eyes avoided the blue ones currently glaring at him, instead choosing to look towards Poppy.

She glared back just as angrily as Branch. Chef understood why they would be pissed. The man HAD committed treason. Serves him right.

“Uh… Who is this?” JD spoke up, confused by the reaction Poppy had to seeing the injured Troll. He’s used to Branch being aggressive and not liking people, but if the queen was mad then something was obviously wrong.

“That’s the guy who sold out our entire village to save his skin!” She yelled, letting go of Chef's arm.

“Ooooh…” The stocky Troll made a weird face and put his hands on his hips as he sucked in air between his clenched teeth.

“Yeah, that’s pretty bad.” He continued.

“What do you want to do with him?” The shortest man spoke up. What was his name? He was the only one she didn’t know now.

“We could leave him to bleed out and die.” Branch stated calmly.

“That sounds like a good option.” Poppy responded with a cruel smile. 

Chef couldn’t believe her ears– sure, she didn’t know the Trolls that well, but they all seemed to be so forgiving and nice. Leaving someone for dead, let alone their own kind ? Especially hearing it from POPPY ? Once again, what the fuck is going on?!

“Ok, look… I don’t exactly know the whole deal here but… doesn’t that sound a bit extreme?”

“Floyd. He nearly killed not only me, but also Poppy.”

Chef glanced at the short Troll– Floyd . He seemed uneasy and upset at the situation. He tried to speak up again before Poppy cut him off.

“AND the entire population of Pop Village!”

Chef noticed not only Floyd flinching at the volume, but also Creek. She stared at the pitiful excuse of a Troll barely conscious on the ground. She could easily pitch in on the idea of leaving him for dead. Maybe feed him to a bird? Use him for target practice? She could just stab him and put him out of his misery. Yet, some other part of her couldn’t help but think about the fact he sold them out to her. He wouldn’t have betrayed the village if it wasn’t for her. She didn’t exactly feel GUILTY.

But…

“Maybe he has a point.” She spoke up.

“What?” Poppy looked at her in near disbelief.

“Aren’t you all about killing? This should be nothing– you were JUST saying you’d still stab him!” Branch yelled back at her, his proximity to Creek causing him to flinch at the noise and let out a weak groan.

Chef felt herself cringe at the comment. Sure, she WAS all about killing the Trolls. In the past at least. Maybe… she got over that. She wouldn’t admit it out loud though; especially not to smug-ass Branch . She glanced back at the only silent Troll behind her. Clay just shrugged and crossed his arms. Seems he was unfazed by this. Wonder why?

“How long has he been gone? At least fix him up before kicking him out again, you don’t need to kill him!” Floyd pleaded.

“He’s right, little bro… I’m all for beating ass, but this seems a little much” JD spoke up as well. Wait, did he say little bro?

While Chef was busy trying to unpack the idea that these Trolls are related, Poppy left her side and walked over to Branch.

“Ok… I’m also super mad at Creek and absolutely hate him.” She looked at the injured Troll on the floor. He just looked up at her with an uneven, glossy gaze. He probably didn’t even realize what was happening right now. She sighed before continuing, placing a hand on the pale Trolls shoulder.

“I think they’re right. We don’t need to stoop down to his level.”

Branch looked Poppy in the eye, something he absolutely hated , before he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Fine. I’ll help him– BUT. As soon as he’s stable, he’s gone”

The queen smiled softly at her boyfriend and gently rubbed her hand on his forehead, playfully ‘smoothing’ his wrinkles.

“I’ll agree to that. So, what do we do?”

🔪🔪🔪

Bringing Creek to the bunker wasn’t exactly pleasant . Clay and Poppy were tasked with carrying him, since Branch would rather drag him by the leg. Chef wondered why the other two couldn’t help, but looking over she noticed JD carrying Floyd. She didn’t understand why, but she also didn’t care to ask.

Once in the bunker, they all piled into the same room Chef had her blood drawn in the day before. The two carrying Creek gently placed him on the table before moving out the way and standing at the ready to bring Branch anything he needed. The injured Troll made small, weak attempts to stop the grey Troll from cutting his recently placed bandages off.

“Put your arm down before I break it” He hissed out as he pushed Creeks arm down and pinned it to the table. The fast, aggressive motion caused the Troll to whimper. 

No one in the room dared to speak up about Branch using more force than necessary. Chef glanced around for Floyd, surely the seemingly soft man would have something to say about it. When her eyes found him, she noticed he was passed out on a stool leaning against JD. The green-haired Troll’s eyes met her own as she sent him a puzzled look and gestured to the smaller Troll currently leaning on him. 

“He’s got uh… energy problems” He spoke softly, trying not to wake the smaller Troll up. The room was quiet enough that she could hear him no problem. The lilac Troll simply nodded and looked back at Creek being man-handled on the table while Branch played doctor. 

It was a mess

With the bandages gone, Chef could see the deep lesions all over his torso. What exactly did he run into out there? Whatever it was, she hoped she’d never see it. Watching him get stitched up, whining and whimpering the entire time, she wondered if Trolls had any kind of anesthetic. If they did, Branch certainly wasn’t using it. The shimmering, magenta blood dripping off the table caught Chef's attention. Something about the glitter in it seemed to mesmerize her every time she’d see it. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the sparkles, or if she was just a sadist.

Eventually the sound of a Troll in pain became too much for Poppy as she quickly excused herself and left the room. Chef’s attention was grabbed by the Troll leaving and she slowly got off the wall she was leaning against. Quickly, she followed her out of the room. She wasn’t worried – or at least she didn’t think so. She didn’t really know why , but she felt like she had to check on her. When she exited the room, she found Poppy in the kitchen with a glass of water. Once she was close enough, she could see the queen was shaking.

“You uh… Everything ok?” Chef asked as she leaned against the counter next to her.

“I… I-I’m not sure…” Her response was so quiet, it actually made Chef concerned. This woman was never quiet, even when she asked her to be. Even though she was willing to kill this Troll earlier, she was reacting so strongly now.

“I’m… mad ? Of course I’m mad . He sold us out and put everyone in danger, then he had the BALLS to say he did it for me–” She paused, looking down into her cup. Her ears angled down.

“But… I liked him. It was so long ago at this point– I wanted to date him, haha”

Chef stayed quiet and just listened as the pink Troll rambled about her past with the purple traitor.

“I have Branch now, and I obviously don’t like Creek anymore… but when he sold us out to… you …” Poppy’s words trailed off as she quietly looked at Chef. The lilac Troll couldn’t bring herself to look at Poppy anymore after what she said. Ever since she saw the purple bastard again she’d been wondering how long it would be before someone brought up the fact it was her fault. She nibbled on her lip as her eyes trailed over small marks on the ground. She could barely hear the whimpers from the other room. But they were still there.

“Look, I–”

Whatever Chef was going to say died on her tongue as Branch entered the room.

“He’s fixed. I’m going back to bed” He spoke directly to Poppy before leaving the room, ignoring Chef’s existence entirely. The two women shared a look before they both went back to the ‘operating room’. They passed Floyd and JD as the two were leaving back to bed themselves. Clay looked over to them as soon as they entered. Creek was passed out on the table with fresh, neat bandages and his arm in a sling. There was blood all over him.

“So… How bad is it?” Poppy asked, looking at Clay as he put away a roll of bandages.

“Dislocated shoulder, broken arm, a few broken ribs and a LOT of open wounds. B didn’t talk much, but uh… I watched”

“By the looks of it, you patched him up too” Chef commented. Clay didn’t respond past a shrug and a small comment of how he’s used to it. Whatever that meant.

The room was quiet as Poppy looked over Creek. He was in bad shape, but at least he’d survive now. Until they throw him out of the village again. Chef wondered what they’d do with him until then. He had a long road ahead for healing, that was obvious. Branch would probably rather eat glass than keep him in the bunker. He didn’t have a house anymore, if his comment to Chef before she bolted was anything to go off of.

“You girls should probably sleep” Clay spoke up as he walked to the doorway.

“You don’t have to worry about us, you know” Poppy smiled at him. He ran his hand over his long, messy limed-coloured hair as he huffed.

“I’m used to worrying about Viva, it’s a habit”

Viva. That’s the second time she’s heard that name– Bridget mentioned her first. Where is she at? Her thoughts would have to wait as Poppy placed her hand on her arm, getting her attention.

“Do you want to stay here with me for the night? I could uh… use some company”

“Oh… Sure” Chef didn’t really know why she was asking her for company. She supposed Branch was probably not in a good place right now to be with his girlfriend. Did Poppy not blame her? Were the Trolls not MAD at her for everything ? That wasn’t important right now…

Poppy led Chef to a different room in the bunker– a guest room of sorts, it seemed. The two were silent as the pink Troll sat on the bed with her face in her hands. Chef stood awkwardly by the door and lightly crossed her arms. She had so many questions, but didn’t exactly know when a good time to ask them would be. Would Poppy get mad if Chef questioned her instead of comforting? It’s not like the once-was-Bergen was good at comforting others anyway, so might as well talk.

“So… The other men in the bunker, who are they?” She asked as she lightly tapped the tips of her toes against the ground. Poppy looked up from her hands; she looked like she was on the verge of tears. She sniffled a bit and took a breath before responding.

“Those are Branch’s brothers”

“All of them?” Chef seemed surprised. She knew the stocky one was, if what he meant earlier was literal.

“Yeah. There’s another one too, Bruce– but he lives with his wife and kids on Vacay Island. They all used to be a boy band when they were kids. I LOVED them, oh my god . They’re still so good, but retired.” 

Apparently the face on Chef was enough to raise Poppy’s mood as she started to giggle. Boy Band ? Trolls loved to sing and dance, so that tracks. She couldn’t help but wonder about the other brother. Did he have a little Troll wife? How many kids did he have if his number of siblings were anything to go by? Where’s Vacay Island anyway? Had she really never went out further than Bergen Town or the surrounding forest?

“Who’s Viva?” Chef asked before she could continue on thinking about Branch's extended family. She didn’t really care– but this Viva person was mentioned several times, so she must be important. Right? Poppy perked up instantly at the question.

“Oh! That’s my sister!”

Wait. Sister? Since when did the queen have a sister? She only knew about ‘Princess Poppy’ back during the failed Trollstice that got her kicked out of Bergen Town… Did something happen to her? Was she not claimed as a Princess for some reason? Apparently the confused face she was making cued Poppy to answer.

“We got split up while escaping Bergen Town…She ended up becoming the queen of her own group of Trolls– They live in an abandoned golf course, it’s actually pretty cool.” She rambled as she crawled into bed and laid down.

“Huh… Ok. That makes sense, I guess.” Chef moved closer and sat on the floor at the end of the bed, propping her arm up on one leg. It really did make sense, of course the Bergens would’ve caused them to lose each other– at least she wasn’t eaten. She shouldn’t feel guilty, right?

So what if it was her that cooked the Trolls and it was her that decimated their village numerous times, killing thousands of them. Who cares i f she was the one that caused the cave in by stabbing the ground to find the escaping Trolls. That it was her that caused Poppy to be separated from her sister. She didn’t care. She didn’t care at all that it was all her fault.

Chef sighed as she brought her other leg up and gently wrapped her arms around her knees, hugging them to her chest. Maybe she did care. She really didn’t want to, but she was starting to care a lot for the little Trolls. Maybe she should apologize to Poppy. Her ear twitched as she heard the light snoring from above her. Seems the apology would have to wait til tomorrow. Or even later if she could help it.

She wouldn’t be getting much sleep tonight.

Chapter Text

How much coffee is too much? Four seems like a reasonable amount. For now.

Chef paced around in the kitchen. She was exhausted, but couldn’t settle down enough to actually sleep. Luckily, Branch seemed to have the same problem and he was up making coffee not long after Poppy had fallen asleep. Now the two of them were alone, drinking in silence.

“What are you going to do with him?” Chef spoke up as she took a glance at Branch. The Troll rubbed his face groggily before responding with a groan.

“I don’t know… I originally was going to throw him outside, but now that I can actually think straight– it’s kind of a shit thing to do,” he sipped his own coffee with his brow furrowed. If he couldn’t throw him out, then what could they do? He couldn’t stay in the bunker, that was for sure. Not like he had a home anymore either. The lilac woman shifted uncomfortably at the thought. Should she give him his house back? It was just temporary for her while they tried to find a cure. Maybe she could just stay in the bunker? Seemed like they had a few extra rooms anyway; but would she want to stay with the pissbaby grey Troll? Maybe not.

Chef tapped her foot lightly against the ground as she thought. Her attention was grabbed by Branch getting up and leaving the room; most likely going to check on Poppy. She sighed as she leaned back against the counter. Small sounds in the other room made her ears perk up. Seems the purple bastard was conscious, or at least making noise. Her curiosity was piqued. Sliding over to the make-shift medical wing, the woman peeked around the corner and watched the Troll on the table as he writhed around. 

She debated for a moment if she should enter the room and see what all the fuss was about– ultimately deciding she had to do something, given the poor man seemed to be in complete agony. It was either stop it herself, or risk him getting so loud he wakes up the others. And we wouldn’t want that, now would we?

“Good to see the little home invader is still alive” She spoke with a smirk as she walked up to the table and peered down at the man. If she was going to help, she was at least going to pick on him a bit. Creek groaned as his head lolled to the side and he glanced at the lilac woman above him. He didn’t seem to recognize her at first, at least not fully.

“Are you able to talk, or just whine pathetically?” She propped her arm up on the table, her chin resting on the palm. The troll under her gaze just frowned and let out a slight growling sound. Taking that as a confirmation, Chef glanced around the room before deciding she wouldn’t be able to find anything herself. She stretched a bit as she stood back up straight and turned on her heel to leave. Creek let out a low, confused sound as the woman made her way out of the room and towards where she thought Branch would be. Instead of Branch, she spotted Clay coming towards the kitchen. He’d probably be able to answer her question.

“Hey, lime-light… is there anything in here I can give to the little bastard so he stops crying so loud?” She crossed her arms, nodding her head back towards where Creek was. Clay looked confused for a second before he lightly shook his head.

“Uh, yeah… There’s a jar in one of the cabinets with some yellow powder– just mix it with water and give it to him,” he explained. 

Chef nodded and made her way back to the sink, filling a glass with a bit of water. She offered a small bye to the lime-haired troll before heading back. Once back in the room, Creek made a small whimper of pain as the lilac woman looked through a few cabinets. Eventually finding the jar she was looking for, she set it on the side table. How much did she need? He wasn’t exact with the measurement. Oh well.

Opening the jar, Chef sniffed it a bit. On the surface it smelled like turmeric, but she could tell there were several floral undertones. Lavender? Some form of daisy perhaps? Shrugging, she lightly tapped a bit into the glass of water and swirled it around until she was satisfied it was mixed enough. Now there was only one question left on Chef’s mind– How was she going to get Creek to drink it?

Looking at the troll on the table, the two made eye contact before she quickly glanced away. She could prop him up, maybe? But with what ? There’s no way she’d hold his head up, she’s not a damn nurse. Well … she’s acting like one now, but that’s besides the point.

“Can you sit up by yourself?” She asked. Creek just stared back at her, as if she asked a stupid question. Which she did to be fair.

Sighing as she realized she would actually have to help him, Chef walked over and gently lifted the purple troll’s head. He glared back at her as he groaned in pain. She rolled her eyes and held the glass to his lips.

“You keep being ungrateful and I’ll waterboard you with it.”

Her threat was met with a small grumble before Creek sipped from the glass. It felt like he was sipping for ten minutes. He sure was taking his sweet time with this.

“You drink too slow!” Chef shouted as she dropped his head and pried open his mouth before practically forcing him to down the rest of the liquid. She put the cup down as Creek coughed and whimpered in pain. The woman just watched with a small smirk. She still got some joy from watching a Troll suffer. 

Or maybe it was just Creek suffering that she liked.

“You… make a TERRIBLE nurse–” The man finally spoke, putting emphasis on the terrible before being cut off by another coughing fit.

“Good thing I’m not one then” Chef simply shrugged, but never dropped the smile.

The two just glared at each other while Creeks coughing died down and he slowly propped himself up on his elbows. He slowly dragged his hand over the bandaged up wounds. What did that to him? Chef didn’t really know what things the trolls had to worry about in terms of wild animals. Are there miniature bears? Wolves? Who knows. Well… Branch probably.

“Despite your– let's say atrocious– bedside manners. At least you make a pretty nurse, hm?” The purple troll spoke up. Oh, this has to be a joke. She looked at him with disgust before laughing.

“You aren’t as charming as you think, you little rat .” She grimaced.

For as awkward as he was quickly making this reunion, at least it was proof the pain reliever worked. He could talk now, which meant he could answer questions– and boy did she have a lot of those. She tapped her fingers against the table before huffing.

“Do you even remember who I am?”

“You seem familiar, but no. Why? You aren’t here for child support, are you?” He responded with a seemingly worried expression. That… was something she’d ask about later.

“I wouldn’t let you touch me in your wildest dreams. Perhaps if I had a hat on you’d recognize me then?” She gestured to her head before placing her hands on her hips.

Creek stared at her for a long moment. Chef swore she could hear the gears turning in his head as he thought. And boy was he thinking HARD. His hard thinking finally connected the dots and his eyes widened as he looked the lilac troll up and down.

“ YOU’RE THE BERGEN CHEF?! ” 

Ah, there it is.

“Well, good to see you’re conscious and don’t have a brain injury. Though I’d prefer if you weren’t yelling at FOUR IN THE MORNING!” The two trolls quickly looked at the doorway to see a grumpy Branch and barely awake Poppy. Oops.

“Don’t look at me, I’m not the one screaming” Chef held her hands up in defense.

“Why is SHE here?? AND WHY IS SHE A TROLL!?!” Creek continued to scream. Branch groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose as Poppy gently rubbed his shoulder.

“It’s a long story…” The queen spoke up.

Chef stood there quietly as the three went back and forth. Eventually she tuned out their conversation and her thoughts started to drift. She felt so tired. Was it really 4am already? Maybe she could just leave the room and go to bed. Though that means she’d have to get past the cute couple in the doorway.

“ Chef! ” 

Her attention was snapped back by Branch snapping his fingers in her face. She should bite him. But she won’t.

“What?” The woman snarled at the grey troll in front of her.

“I’m sending Creek home with you– since it’s his pod” Chef stared at him wide eyed for a minute; her mouth pressed into a thin line.

“I’m sorry… YOU’RE WHAT?! ”

🔪🔪🔪

“This is utterly ridiculous!”

“But it’s my house!” 

Chef turned and looked at the troll in a little make-shift wheelchair currently sitting in the middle of her pod. Well, it’s his actually. He had a point there. It’s been an hour since Branch sent the two of them back to their own pod. God… Theirs … She hated the thought of having to live with this bitch.

“You got evicted basically, so it’s mine now!” She yelled back at Creek.

It took a few minutes of convincing from Poppy to get Chef to agree to this, and while she still isn’t certain about it, she knows it’s either this or Creek getting left to die. And that for some reason didn’t sit well with her.

Creek wheeled around, observing what once was his home. Chef didn’t change much for the short time she was there. A few decor pieces here and there; mostly from Poppy or her finding random things outside.

“You have poor taste” The man commented as he looked at the broken vase on the floor.

“In my defense, it was a gift. One that YOU broke” She shot back. The purple troll smirked and tilted his head to the side as he raised an eyebrow before speaking again.

“Oh? From who? Your best friend, Queen Poppy?” The stupid shit eating grin on his face made Chef want to choke him. Which luckily for her, and unluckily for him , she was now the perfect size to do just that! Chef lunged at Creek and tried to wrap her hands ( paws? ) around his neck, the injured man barely able to hold her back.

“SAY ANOTHER WORD AND I’M LOCKING YOU OUTSIDE!” She snarled.

“Fine! For fucks sake, you’re mental!” He wheeled himself back a few feet and rubbed his throat. Chef huffed and sat down on the bed, groaning as she rubbed her eyes.

“I’m exhausted– you can sleep in your damn chair, stay away from me.”

“It may come as a surprise, but I wasn’t keen on sharing the bed with you either. I’d rather sleep on the floor” He waved his hand in the air dismissively as he rolled his eyes. He’s such a pain in the ass. A straight prick.

“Good, then sleep on the floor” She mumbled as she got under the covers.

“Oh, sod off” She heard Creek whisper under his breath as she quickly began to succumb to sleep. She expected to wind up back in the same dreamscape she had grown used to.

But where she ended up was different.

When the dreamy haze cleared, Chef found herself in a clearing. Silver grass– a yellow sky filled with pink clouds and a black ball in the sky. Something about this place felt familiar. Like it was supposed to be calming. Why wasn’t it calming?

There was nothing. Just the vast empty field. The woman had no choice but to wander… 

So she did.

Chef walked for a long time. She had no idea how long it actually was; time worked strangely in dreams. Her movements felt slow and heavy, like she was moving through a murky swamp. It was so different from the other world with Flores.

Flores. Where is she?

Looking up, Chef noticed a tree in the distance. Bright orange and red leaves blowing in nonexistent wind. Hoping it would somehow lead to answers, She made her way towards it. As she moved closer, she realized something. It was the Troll Tree.

And it was on fire.

Just like the first time in the dreamscape, Chef couldn’t speak. She couldn’t call out for Flores or ask some nonexistent listener why the tree was burning. Were there Trolls in the tree? It was so quiet. Shaking the thought from her head, she walked right up to the tree and circled around its base. On the other side was a white, featureless door. It was jarring. It was like a piece of paper compared to the texture of the tree. She glanced at the knob– a matte, dark purple circle that didn’t even seem connected to the door.

Well… might as well see where the dream goes, right?

Hesitantly turning the knob, Chef stepped through the door into inky blackness. The darkness soon faded as if a light was turned on– and suddenly, Chef was home.

Not the pod, but her home . Her childhood bedroom. Creaky mahogany flooring, the old bent bed with a patchwork blanket… even her old dollhouse her father built before his passing. Crayon drawings hung up on the walls showing forests and mountains. And a field with a bright yellow sky. It made sense now. It was all memories, but why was it happening now? What happened to the other world? Flores’ world? What happened to her friend?

Hearing a light humming, Chef turned and made her way into a long hallway. It was warped– curved and dulled. Something told her she shouldn’t go there… but she had to. There was nowhere else to go.

Following the path, she came to a large room lit by a fireplace. The living room. Her living room. Light creaking from the corner drew Chef’s eyes to a rocking chair with a figure sitting in it. She couldn’t make out who it was, but whoever it was continued to rock back and forth while humming.

“Hello?” The voice came out high-pitched and quiet. Small . Weak .

She grit her teeth. Why did she sound like that? It’s a memory, so she must be a child, right? Did she always sound like that as a child?

The figure in the chair stopped rocking. The shape of it morphing between several familiar shapes. Moving like thick black smoke.

“Who are you?” Chef asked, deciding to be brave. This was just a memory, a warped one, but still. So what was there to be scared of?

The figure continued to hum, slowly changing into an almost rhythmic whispering before it stopped completely. Suddenly, Chef could feel her heart beating in her chest– fast and panicked. But why?

A sound from behind her caused her head to swivel. A door was cracked open just a hair, letting a purple light shine through. When she looked back at the rocking chair, the figure was gone. 

“I’m so glad you’re back!” A familiar voice called from beyond the door.

“Flores?” Chef quickly pushed the door open and stepped into the room. The kitchen, lit up in bright, neon purple hues. Sitting on top of the kitchen table sat the mummified corpse of Flores. The same one Chef had eaten. It’s skin crackled and squeaked like old, worn leather as it raised its arms towards her. Instead of speaking, Flores– the corpse’s mouth opened further, making a windy shrieking sound.

This was a nightmare. It had to be.

Quickly, Chef turned and booked it, running as fast as she could back down the hallway; it felt much longer than before. She could still hear the sound the corpse was making– as if it was chasing her. Was this punishment? There was no way this was actually her friend… right? Flores wouldn’t scare her. Flores wouldn’t torture her.

As she made it back to her old bedroom, Chef slammed the door shut and pressed her back against it. The shrieking slowly faded away until she was left with only her own breathing breaking the silence. The bergen hugged her knees and started to sob. She wanted to wake up. She wanted to leave .

She wished Flores was actually here. She wished that Poppy was here. Hell, she’d be happy to see BRANCH right now.

A quiet voice from somewhere outside the room once again drew Chef’s attention back from her thoughts. She lifted her head and covered her mouth to silence herself. Who was that? Was the corpse back? It didn’t sound like her… The voice called out again from the other side, this time much clearer.

“Mauve?”

🔪🔪🔪

Chef woke up screaming. Which unfortunately also woke up Creek, who also started screaming– not helping the situation.

“What?! What’s wrong!?” The man yelled, looking around frantically.

The lilac troll quickly covered her mouth and sobbed into her hand. Despite being awake, she could swear she still heard that God awful shrieking . Creek just looked at her as he slowly calmed down, realizing nothing was wrong. Well, nothing physically anyway.

“Christ, you scared the shit out of me just because you had a damn nightmare?! What are you, four!?” He yelled as he wheeled himself over to the side of the bed. Chef seemed to just ignore him as she grabbed her ears and tugged them, breathing heavily and whining.

“Nothings going on, you’re fine! Calm down!” He barely tried to comfort the woman currently freaking out in front of him. Huffing, he struggled to move himself out of the chair and onto the bed, gently grabbing her hands and pulling them off her ears.

“Hey, look at me” He spoke sternly as he moved his hands to her shoulders.

“Calm down. Take deep breaths.” Chef stared at him and grit her teeth as she did what he told her. Slowly breathing in and out until she was somewhat calm and no longer crying.

“That’s it… Being a good girl now, aren’t you” He chuckled before the woman swatted his hands off of her and pushed him off the bed. Creek let out as a yelp as he hit the floor.

“Not cool! I just helped you and that’s how you repay me?” He hissed as he sat up, holding his side. Chef just rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

“I didn’t ask you to help me” She grumbled, kicking the blankets off. She was sweating from the nightmare. Gross.

“Well, if I didn’t you’d still be screaming and Poppy would strangle me in the morning…”

“It IS morning, you dolt”

The two looked at each other as Creek grumbled expletives, crawling his way back to his wheelchair and climbing in. He didn’t wheel away from the bed, instead he just looked at the floor and tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair. The air was quickly getting tense and awkward, but neither knew how to move on from… That.

“You’re welcome by the way, Chef ” The purple troll spoke up, putting an extra taunting flare to her name at the end. She looked at him with a glare and opened her mouth to speak before shutting it and looking away. The silence continued for a solid minute before she quietly spoke.

“That’s not my name”

The statement lingered in the air for a moment before Creek looked at her with confusion and curiosity.

“What do you mean that’s not your name? That’s what everyone called you in Bergen Town, isn’t it?” He asked, moving his hand as he spoke.

“That’s because it was my job . A title . Not my name” She continued, still not looking at him. The room went silent again and Creek thought about his options. Did he care enough to ask? Well, he was curious, so he decided to ask.

“Then… What IS your name?”

Chef waited for a second, debating if she should actually answer that.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Hippie boy” She answered with a smirk as she finally looked at him. Creek stuttered a bit at the sudden switch back to her normal personality instead of the somewhat anxious one from before. She snickered at him as he turned his chair around to put his back to her.

“That was rude you know” He huffed. Aw, did she hurt his feelings?

She laid back down and propped her head up on her hand, laying on her side as she just looked at the troll next to her. Looked at his back, anyway.

The more she thought about it, maybe it would be nice to be called by her actual name again instead of just Chef . If she has to live with this guy, at least he could use it. She hesitated for a minute before sitting up and tapping his shoulder. He shifted and turned the chair to look back at her with a brow raised.

“My name is Mauve” She spoke with a small smile.

Chapter Text

It’d been smooth sailing for the most part. Two weeks had passed since Creek returned, and he’d been healing up rather quickly. Chef wondered if it was normal for trolls, or if the man was just lucky. He upgraded from the wheelchair to a cane– well, it was more of a twig . Yet even with the new freedom of mobility, he never left the pod. He preferred meditating just outside, or making crafts inside. One day he just pulled a box of beads and string from one of the cabinets, rambling about how he used to make bead curtains, jewelry and dream catchers.

The two had only spoken kindly to each other a few times. Casual greetings and goodbyes as Chef– Mauve left their shared pod. Most of the pairs' interactions were fights, though Mauve couldn’t tell if those words really had any venom behind them anymore. Well…

Any TRUE venom. They still didn’t get along perfectly .

Mauve shrugged to herself, shooing the thoughts away as she continued her walk around Pop Village. She’d been getting along decently with the other Trolls; something she never thought she’d be able to do. Other species come and go. Country, Techno, Rock… Yodel?

They were all nice enough. The rock trolls were a bit more rough than the others, but she didn’t really mind. It was actually a nice change from the typical bright pop trolls she’s surrounded by. The lilac troll was stopped in her tracks as an excited Queen Poppy ran up to her, rambling as she began spinning her around by the arms.

“Poppy! I can’t understand you!” She yelled with a frown. The queen quickly halted and let go of her arms. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Poppy started talking slower.

“I have someone I want you to meet! You’ll get along GREAT, I just know it!”

Mauve rubbed her hands together nervously. Poppy had introduced her to A LOT of trolls in the small time she’d been there. Sure, they were all nice, but she’d never been this excited. Not even when she introduced her to her dad .

“Can I know who it is before you drag me over to them or are you going to keep it a surprise like always?”

She could tell by the smile the queen was failing to hide that she, once again, wouldn’t be saying anything. Mauve just sighed and let go of her own hands, allowing the pink troll to grab her and drag her around. Surely it won’t be that bad, right?

The lilac troll was quickly dragged up to a group of three. She recognized two of them at least. Clay and King Peppy. Past King? Does she still have to call him King when Poppy has the throne?

She paused when she looked at the blonde in front of her. She looked so familiar . But it can’t be her… Right?

“Flores?” Mauve whispered, getting a slight confused reaction from Clay. The blonde didn’t even seem to notice she said something. Though Peppy’s eyes were huge, like she’d said something she wasn’t supposed to.

“Chef, this is my sister Viva! I mentioned her before in the bunker and Clay said she was–” Poppy started rambling before Mauve could stop her. She quickly tuned the excited woman out and instead zeroed in on Peppy. The once-was-king silently shook his head no to her as she looked at him with a questioning gaze. Does he know who Flores is? Who she was ?

“Uh, Chef?”

“Huh?” Mauve snapped back to reality as Poppy waved her hand in her face.

“You were kinda zoning out. You… ok?” Poppy asked, a little worried Chef was becoming too stressed.

“Yes, I’m fine. I was just thinking…” She glanced again at Peppy before continuing.

“It’s nothing important.”

Viva stepped forward, offering her hand to the lilac troll as she put the other on her hip and smiled.

“Nice to meet you! Like Poppy said, I’m Viva– she’s said a lot about you!”

Mauve nervously chuckled as she shook her hand. What the hell did Poppy tell her about exactly?

“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well…What uh– what has Poppy told you?”

The sisters looked at each other with a smile that Chef could only read as mischievous.

“Oh, she just told me about the whole used to be a Bergen thing, and that you’re a little grumpy– But hey! That’s ok! Branch is grumpy too and we like him!”

Mauve smiled and nodded her head. Not the description she would’ve used for herself, but it wasn’t wrong either.

“Can I ask something? What’s with the name?” Viva asked as she moved to put an arm around Chef’s shoulders. Well, obviously someones a little socially inept. 

“If you have to be nosy about it– that was my job. It’s not my real name, but I’d prefer you use it. Oh, and don’t touch me.” She replied coldly as she moved Viva’s arm off her shoulder. The blonde just stood there a little surprised and confused, looking at the arm Chef had moved off.

“I’m going back home now. Nice meeting you” Mauve waved casually as she turned and left back to her pod. Creek’s pod? Their pod.

It was a valid question, she supposed, but she could’ve asked it a bit nicer. Honestly she would have preferred she not ask that at all. Mauve ground her teeth as she thought more about it. She walked right past Creek meditating on the rock and went inside, ignoring the purple trolls greeting. Flopping face down on the bed, she let out a huff. Viva certainly is a character, she’ll give her that.

The silence of the room was broken as Creek hobbled inside.

“Are you not going to say hello back?”

Mauve sat up and looked at him with an annoyed look on her face. Did he REALLY have to chase her inside? He must be bored with meditating all day.

“Are you not going to leave me alone?” She shot back. Creek let out a small click of the tongue.

“Well aren’t you just peachy today.”

Mauve rolled over and threw her pillow at Creek, hitting him square in the face and knocking him over. She couldn’t help but laugh as he fell on his ass, letting out a string of swears.

“If I had the strength I’d beat you!”

“You hit women?” Mauve asked as she laid down on her stomach and watched him.

“No, I hit bitches ” He smirked

The comment earned him another pillow to the face.

“Sure little guy, keep telling yourself that” She kicked her legs happily behind her as Creek managed to stand up and hobble over to his bed on the other side of the room.

“You’re such a cheeky little twat, you know that?”

The woman simply nodded and rolled back over to stare at the ceiling. Part of her wanted to take a nap; try to see Flores again. She had a lot of questions and she hasn’t been able to ask her. It’s been a while since they’ve seen each other. What happened to her? Flores is the only one that can answer those questions. Unless…

She asks King Peppy.

That’s an idea! Quickly getting off the bed and grabbing her bag, Mauve glances over at Creek for a moment. Does she really need to tell him where she’s going? He looks over at her from the book he’d just started reading. Smiling, she flips him the middle finger before heading towards the door. As she opened the door, she was met with a surprised Viva with her hand up.

“Oh! Uh…” the confused blonde stammered and put her hand down.

Chef frowned and moved past her, shutting the door as Creek could be heard shouting inside. Viva looked at Chef with a concerned look which earned a shrug in response. As she started walking, the pink troll began to follow. She stayed quiet for a moment before clearing her throat and speaking up.

“I’m sorry about earlier. I know I can be a lot– I’m still not used to new people outside my own kingdom back at the golf course. I forget not everyone likes being touched.”

Mauve just huffed and continued walking as she responded.

“You and your sister seem to be the touchy kind. Next time though, maybe don’t insult the name of the person you just met.”

“Oh! I didn’t mean it like that! I was just… wondering. I should’ve worded that better–”

“Yes, you should have.” Chef cut her off and the two stopped walking as she turned to look at her. The two held eye contact for a moment before Viva looked away. She may be Poppy’s sister, but she’s not exactly like her. She’s a bit more blunt, but she also took the time to come all the way to her pod to apologize. Maybe she isn’t all that bad.

“What’s the deal with your roommate?” Viva spoke up again; changing the subject. Not that Mauve really minded.

“He’s an annoying little prick with barely functioning legs– but he prefers to be called Creek”

Her comment earned a small giggle from the blonde. She couldn’t help but smile at the sound. Why though, she didn’t really know.

“Ooooh, so that’s the guy Poppy told me about. She told me about her and Branch trying to strangle him and him selling out Pop Village to–”

“Yes, to me. Don’t remind me.” Mauve cut her off.

“Right. Sorry… Where are you off to so late?” She changed the subject again and they started walking once more.

“I need to speak with King Peppy.”

“Why do you need to talk to my dad? If it’s anything important I’m sure Poppy can take care of it– or maybe I can?”

Chef shook her head.

“It’s something I think only he knows. Unless you know about a woman named Flores?”

Viva thought for a second before skipping up in front of Chef to stop her from walking ahead.

“The name seems a little familiar, but I don’t think I actually know anyone. Why do you think my dad knows them?” She asked with her hands on her hips.

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“I’m just curious.” Something about her face made Mauve feel a little nervous. Like Viva thought she was up to something. Why would she think that? She’s not doing anything wrong, right?

At least… She didn’t think she was.

“Do you even know where he is?” Viva piped up.

Chef opened her mouth to respond but quickly closed it. She took a second to think before huffing and shaking her head in the negative. She was planning to just roam around until she saw him. Which to be honest, WAS a stupid idea. She should’ve just asked Poppy to bring her to him.

“He’s at the bar. I can take you there if you want!” Viva clapped her hands, suddenly seeming much happier. The energy shift made Chef feel a bit uneasy, but she went along with it anyway.

“That would be helpful, yes. Thank yo– wait . The village has a bar?”

🔪🔪🔪

It was MUCH later in the night when Mauve returned home. Creek rolled over in bed, a bit surprised when he heard stumbling in the doorway. Turning on the lamp, he rubbed his eyes and looked over to see her leaning against the wall with her hand over her mouth. Was she giggling?

“Do you have any idea what time it is right now?” Creek spoke up with a voice rough from sleep. He stretched, popping his back with a groan. The lilac troll shrugged and pushed herself off the wall, walking over to Creek’s bed and propping her elbows on it to look at him. A soft smile spread across her face before she started giggling again. The way she was acting was starting to creep the man out.

“Are you mental? What’s going on with you?”

“It’s fine, I just went to the bar with Viva!” She exclaimed, rolling her eyes and slapping her hands down onto the blanket.

“So you’re pissed then?” He asked, tossing the blanket off of himself and scooting to the edge of the bed to grab his cane.

“Mmm… No, I’m actually feeling pretty happy right now!”

“I meant you’re drunk” He shot her a small glare as he got up and made his way to the kitchen. He started to hum as he slowly prepared a kettle to make some tea.

“Do you want a cuppa?”

“You talk weird”

Creek slowly turned around to look at Mauve with a frown. She simply looked back from her spot sitting on the bed. On his bed.

“You know you have your own bed, right? Why don’t you sit on that? Or better yet, how about you go to sleep?” He rambled off as he leaned against the counter. Mauve simply crossed her arms, adjusted herself to sit criss-cross then huffed with a small ‘no’.

“You’re acting like a child”

“Well YOU are talking like a…um” She stopped and thought for a second, trying to figure out what to say.

“And like that you’ve lost the plot”

The woman looked at him in confusion before just flopping backwards onto his bed. Sighing, Creek made his way over to the bed and tried to pull her out of it.

“Hey!”

“That is MY bed, this is MY house– YOU need to get on YOUR bed!” He yelled as he tugged her onto the floor and struggled to drag her to her own bed. Mauve struggled half-heartedly while grumbling.

“Just let me sleep in it you prick! You can share it!” She argued with a pout.

“I am not sharing a bed with you !” He huffed as he hoisted her up and dropped her onto her own bed. Quickly, she wrapped her legs around his shoulders. Creek sputtered and flushed before screaming.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

Chef let out a laugh as she tightened her legs and started choking him. He smacked at her legs helplessly, but couldn’t pull them off.

“Mauve let go! Please…” He wheezed out a small plea. The troll woman in question simply hummed before she agreed and released him. Creek collapsed onto the side of the bed and coughed before scrambling back as the woman sat up.

“YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY DERANGED!” He pointed at her while holding his throat. The woman in question scooted to the edge of the bed and kicked her legs.

“Come on, I didn’t even do anything!” She tossed her hands into the air.

Creek silently slumped against the wall with a huff, still gently rubbing his neck.

Mauve’s legs slowed to a stop as her hands came back down to her sides. She just watched as the purple troll seemed to wilt. Damn, maybe she did go a little far . Creeks hair drooped along with his ears as he stared down at the floor. Chef was just trying to have fun; she didn’t mean to actually hurt him. Then again, rough housing with an already injured man probably wasn’t a good idea now that she thought about it.

Bringing her hands together, the woman sighed before hopping off the bed and walking over to sit next to Creek. He flinched a bit as she sat down, but didn’t try to move away. The two sat in silence for a while, listening to the sound of crickets outside. Mauve didn’t know what to say. She could apologize but, to be honest, she didn’t really want to. It’s not her fault he dragged her to a different spot, he could’ve just left her alone.

But it IS her fault he’s hurting.

The rational part of her wanted to just leave– leave and go to the bunker to spend the night with Poppy instead; but the drunk part of her wanted to stay with Creek. For some reason. She twiddled her thumbs while thinking.

“Why do people always want to choke me?” The purple troll quietly spoke up. Mauve just looked at him before rolling her eyes and crossing her arms.

“Because you’re an asshole” She responded.

More silence followed before it was once again broken by Creek asking a question. One that the lilac troll didn’t know how to answer.

“If I’m such an ass, then why are you still here? Why come back instead of staying with your friends ?”

Mauve looked around the room, desperately trying to think of a good response; but she didn’t have one. She didn’t know why she came back or why she wanted to stay. Obvious excuses like Poppy being busy or her not liking the other inhabitants of the bunker– none were true. She surprisingly got along with Brozone , Would happily admit the queen is her friend. Hell, she’d even admit she didn’t mind Branch that much anymore.

So why did she come home?

“Because I live here. You aren’t going to get rid of me that easily… and besides, you’re the only one not singing all the time or trying to get me to make friends.” She answered, refusing to look at the man beside her.

Creek looked over at her and just stared. He couldn’t quite tell if she was lying or if there really was some truth to it. Whatever his mind settled on must’ve been the right answer; when Mauve finally looked back at him, he smiled.

“What?”

“So, you do like my company?” He smirked as the woman groaned and pushed against his shoulder.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night…” She mumbled as she got back up and climbed into her bed. Creek let out a small laugh before glancing back to the kitchen.

“So, you don’t want the tea, right?”

Mauve groaned.

“I’ll take that as a negative.” He chuckled.

The sounds of Creek messing in the kitchen quickly faded as she fell asleep. Her mind drifted back towards the thought of Flores.

Wait… Flores…

GOD DAMN IT SHE FORGOT TO ASK PEPPY!!