COMMUTATION 1.1

"The current Heiress? Yeah, she's useless. We bullied her off Chittr within a couple of weeks of her joining it. I made sure to take part in it, you know, have to be seen doing my part. I've even heard some of the clowns have taken to praying for her - that she dies quick, to spare her further embarrassment. (Laughter.) Anyway, I've heard she's, you know, one of those, anyway. Of course she's going to be treated like this."

Excerpt from an interview with Jacque Dhorse, the CEO and founder of Chittr.

The scuttlebus to the nearest subgrub is comfortable, for the definition of comfortable that lowbloods are permitted. No one higher than olive ever uses these, and the olives and golds realistically don’t use them either. Olivebloods are too seclusive, and goldbloods tend to fly instead. Scuttlebusses are one of the few modes of transport that don't require haemotesting though, which is nice. You zone out to the buzz of music from your grubpod. You always feel like a bit of a poser listening to Troll Siouxs and the Banshee when dressed in essentially frat troll clothes, but it’s not like anyone else can hear it right now.

Arriving at your destination, you get off the bus. It trundles away as you stare after it, procrastinating just a little bit longer before you do your “rounds”. Your mind assigns them scare talons automatically. You’ve been trying to shake that habit.

Well. There’s nothing to it but to get to it. Up and at ‘em, Bonnie! You’re gonna do great. You slap your cheeks through your mask, eliciting a stare or two from the other people at the outskirts of the ‘grub. Off you go! Don’t pay attention to the stares, they’re just trolls that don’t know you yet.

You stroll past a couple of lawnrings, whistling to the tender tones of the Banshee’s shrieks. You don’t know how Siouxs managed to get one to feature on so many tracks. Burgundies have weird powers. Time for your first hive visit for today!

ZHANNE MORTIS is one of those weird burgundies. Half-here, half-staring into space, she’s facing away from you as you let yourself in with the key she lent you. She turns as she hears the door, and her lopsidedly long hair flips over her shoulder. Her side shave has been recently cut. You eye it with poorly disguised desire, sensory stims are the best... For now, you keep your hands to yourself.

Both her horns are filed down to stumps, a consequence of them breaking a long time ago. Other trolls have taken it as a political statement, though you know better by now. She’s not really the kind to do something so shocking with active intent. It’s more like an accidental inevitability.

If pressed, you’d describe Zhanne as having a variety of PROBLEMS. Accidentally catapulted into fame by being in the wrong place at the wrong time, she has now inherited the slew of issues associated with gaining a following out of nowhere. An otherwise reclusive and morbid girl, she’s been handling this change with a surprising amount of grace.

Interrupting your musings, she suddenly speaks, peering at your face intently.

ZHANNE: i have decided_
ZHANNE: i am adding new pronouns: corpse_ corpse_
ZHANNE: in addition to she_ her_

Her eyes are as wide as leafwater saucers but you have sort of presumed that’s just kind of how she looks. Sort of a spooked girl. She continues to stare, peering, seemingly awaiting a response. You know she isn’t looking for your approval, but you nod anyway.

BONNIE: yeah, uh
BONNIE: that’s cool!

You take the opportunity to start talking now that you're sure you have her attention.

BONNIE: so, hey
BONNIE: you said you wanted some tips about trying to maintain an image, right?
BONNIE: that's what you said over chittr, anyway

ZHANNE: that's right_
ZHANNE: i've_ blown up_ as they say_
ZHANNE: not that i'm enjoying it_
ZHANNE: kind of like actual_ blowing up_ seems unenjoyable_

BONNIE: haha, yeah
BONNIE: so, what exactly do you want to know?
BONNIE: it's not like i'm the most in the public eye but you know how it is
BONNIE: you're the target of a harassment campaign or two and you pick up on the tips and tricks, and i'd rather you get ahead of them!

ZHANNE: yes_ so_
ZHANNE: let me explain a bit_
ZHANNE: as you probably know_ a protest action i took_ received a disproportionate amount of attention_
ZHANNE: surviving_ an encounter with a drone_ en route to a swatting event_
ZHANNE: it's not exactly common_
ZHANNE: even for golds_ i think some people say_ they're somehow resistant to being picked up?
ZHANNE: something about gravity_ and of course the armour prevents optical beams_

She shakes her head as if to drag herself back on topic by rejumbling her thoughts into the correct order.

ZHANNE: anyway_
ZHANNE: so_ there's already rumours about_ any potential rustblood abilities i might have_
ZHANNE: even though_ this is all on video_
ZHANNE: and you can see_ what happened_
ZHANNE: i do have something_ that did help_ but it's nothing that fancy like_ theorising i'm secretly a cerulean_
ZHANNE: some trolls are really weird did you know that_

ZHANNE: so_ in confidence_
ZHANNE: i can speak with the dead_

This is, perhaps, the least surprising thing you've ever heard about someone, ever. You can't help but giggle, and your reply is lighthearted.

BONNIE: could never have guessed!
BONNIE: talk about nominative determinism, am i right

Zhanne seems a little nonplussed, but she cuts off your attempted explanation of what that is with the explanation she's heard it before, and continues unabated.

ZHANNE: it's the dead_ that told me_ you can sort of_
ZHANNE: evade?
ZHANNE: a drone on its way_ to another target_
ZHANNE: it's about the pathfinding they do_ if you get in front of it_ in the right way_
ZHANNE: you can delay it_
ZHANNE: and walk away without getting hurt_
ZHANNE: it's just that_ someone actually caught it on camera_

ZHANNE: it wasn't my plan_
ZHANNE: and now_ they're probably going to patch that_
ZHANNE: which sucks_

BONNIE: understatement of the century, wow
BONNIE: soooo... yeah, that's the stuff that happened, yeah
BONNIE: but what do you wanna do about it!
BONNIE: it's in your p- hooves!
BONNIE: just gotta tell me what exactly you want so i don't go horribly off topic haha

ZHANNE: yes_
ZHANNE: of course_

There's something about her which seems so preoccupied. As if she's staring at something else, trying to puzzle out exactly what's going on. You're just happy you're free of psionics, because being able to hear the dead sounds like an awful lot of hassle, you know? Seems distracting.

ZHANNE: how do i correct rumours_
ZHANNE: and how do i lie_

And it goes from a pleasant, not quite carefree but not burdened atmosphere to one that's still laughing but laden with the dread weight of knowledge.

BONNIE: you can lie!
BONNIE: but the fun thing about correcting rumours is
BONNIE: you don't!
BONNIE: you just don't!

And there's a pain in your eyes to rival that of the most overused image macros.

BONNIE: you don't get to correct rumours!
BONNIE: they're there forever until you die!
BONNIE: just look at the heiress!

ZHANNE: oh_

BONNIE: lying is mostly just keeping to one simple story though
BONNIE: it's not that hard, just do it over text
BONNIE: and keep it simple and also stupid

ZHANNE: i see_
ZHANNE: well_
ZHANNE: can i offer you some tea_
ZHANNE: i forgot_ to do that_

BONNIE: no i think i'm good
BONNIE: i don't like to drop the mask
BONNIE: not because i think you're sick! it's just a comfort thing

ZHANNE: don't worry_
ZHANNE: it's fine_
ZHANNE: we're both trans_ i get it_
ZHANNE: but yes_ that is all then_
ZHANNE: i'll be seeing you_ more often?

BONNIE: for sure!

Concluding your conversation, Zhanne affably chases you out the door with threats of trapping your soul in a jar if you stay too long. You protest a little, but amble outside, a smile on your face. Just getting to talk about things with someone who gets it makes everything easier.

Onwards to your next charge! Not that they're actually your charges. You just kind of do this as a hobby, because you're just like that.