#umy: trott
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Well if you're still after UMY prompts... how about some Garbage trio bullshit? ;) Those three are always up to something, or maybe someone else is planning something for them...
Im so sorry this took so long anon I got really busy but here you go! Some fine Garbage Court bullshit. This is set in a different city to the main city UMY takes place in and also only a few weeks after the trio became a trio.
Send me an UMY prompt?
Enjoy! (read on ao3)
The Garbage Court have been down on their luck for a long time now. The places they were staying had been getting more and more cramped and the food worse and worse. Not to mention them picking up a new member in the gargoyle Ross has meant that what little space they had felt even more tight.
That was all about to change.
Smith had come up with the idea originally as a joke, but upon a visit to the museum Smith had suggested, Trott realised how much of the items there had enchantments and powerful magics.
“Are you sure about this?” Ross whispered to Trott.
“It's fine sunshine, just stick to the plan,” the selkie whispered back. Ross looked around nervously at the visible guards. Trott pointed to one who winked back, “That's Smith, over there. We have this place locked down.”
Ross took a breath and tried to calm his nerves as Trott handed him a ring. It was silver and made just as intricate as all of the other centuries old jewellery in this museum. He put it on his finger and let the magic fall over him. It felt like being under water and he could only see ten feet in front of him, anything beyond that point was blurred heavily. His eyes lazily drifted over to Trott who waved him a goodbye before falling backwards into the fountain and disappearing.
________
Minutes passed like hours. Time was distorted and blurred around Ross. His body was getting heavier with the force of Trotts magic. The world seemed to pass him by as he wandered aimlessly around the now darkened museum.
His eyes caught sight of a clock and he realised he was late for meeting the other twos so he forced himself to walk towards the main lobby where he had left Trott.
The museum was somehow more beautiful at night. The high ceilings and intricate architecture easier to see and appreciate without humans around, even despite the magic that obscured his vision. As he walked into the lobby he took off the ring and everything snapped back into focus. It was like taking a sudden breath of cold air and, for a moment, he was stunned by it.
Trott waved him over while he was carefully folding his strange cloak by the edge of the fountain. Smith was also there, just watching in a uniform stolen from one of the guards that worked there. “You're late,” Trott said as Ross approached. “You were supposed to be here an hour ago, we've already cleared out some of the humans who work here”.
“Don't be like that sunshine,” Smith spoke, grinning, “Your magic is fucking weird.”
Trott simply rolled his eyes and gently put his cloak into his messenger bag and told them both to follow him. While walking, Ross took the time to think. He knew the two were both like the Fey beings his mother has warned him about, but he wasn't quite sure on specifics. When he had first met them, he assumed they were both the same kind of Fey because of the way they spoke with each other. He later realised that they were different because of they way they interacted with the world around them. But to be as comfortable with each other as they are, they must have known each other for a very long time.
____
Smith didn't know what they were looking for. He didn't need to.
He was only there for one reason. Trott asked him to be.
The museum was pretty big, it was definitely one of the biggest buildings he had been in, and he got turned around very quickly. Luckily Trott was very good with directions, and they were making their way towards whatever it is Trott wanted to get.
They walked into a room covered in class cases when Trott finally stopped to look around. He pointed to a case on the far side of the room, “over there,” he whispered to the two behind him. Smith slowly walked over to it, taking the lead from Trott. He has never been as good as Trott when it came to traditional magic. He knew his own, even if he only ever used it sparingly, but for the moment, this wasn't a matter of magic, this was a matter of human security.
Smith has spent a lot of time talking to, and just generally being around humans. Because of this, he had gotten very familiar with picking locks and disarming various different security systems. As he worked his way across the room, he looked out for anything that could alert the police, they could do without the extra hassle.
The case in question was full of intricate gold and silver jewellry. Rubys, sapphires, emeralds and diamonds all embedded in necklaces, rings and crowns. Engravings of patterns and runes across them all. For a moment, Smith looked closer at them, and his peripheral vision went gray while many of the different items light up with technicolour lights. Blues, purples, greens and whites filled his vision and hummed with the gentle energy of magical objects. He felt the power rush over him just for a second before the glowing faded and his vision went back to normal.
The case was easy to get open, but the case wasn't the problem, it was the magic barrier put there to protect the jewellry from fae like them. He stepped aside, his job done for now, and watched Trott closely.
Trott is a brilliant mage, most people who knew of their court have heard tales of their high lord and his skill. Smith always loved to watch him work, ever since they first met. His eyes looked intently at the barrier as his hands weaved around invisible strings.
A few minutes went by where nothing happened before Trotts face lit up and the barrier around the jewelry became visible for a moment before flashing out of existence. “Ross bring the bag over here,” Trott whispered over his shoulder. He started picking up all the jewelry and gently putting it all into a black bag Ross was carrying. This whole thing was going too slow for Smith, as most things did.
Too long a time went by before they were finally ready to go.
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“You shouldn't be here,” a voice spoke out as they rounded the final corner before their exit. Standing in front of the exit was what looked to be an old man. He was holding a scythe and his smile held just a few too many teeth to be human.
“Were just passing through, we don't want trouble,” Trott spoke, putting his hand forward while taking a step toward the being.
“Don't want trouble?” His voice was hoarse and quiet, “You came here and stole from this place. You meant trouble from the moment you came inside.” His scythe moved from his side and he sank into a fight ready stance, his fingers turning into vicious looking claws. Seeing this, Trott moved behind Smith and Ross as they moved towards the creature, and tightened his leather bracelet, casting a protection spell on all three of them.
The creature must have took this as an act of aggression because he ran straight at Trott. Smith saw his path and moved to stand between them. The creature collided with Smith and tried to swing at him with his scythe. Smith dodged and formed some claws of his own as his body became more animalistic. Ross ran at the creature with the knife that Trott had given him when they first met. They both got a hit in on the creature and he yelled with aggression and swung at both of them, hitting Smith, but he was unaffected, the adrenaline of the fight taking over. Trott grabbed some ashes from his coat pockets and lit them with a basic spell. He spoke some words in his native tongue and scattered them onto the floor.
The effect was almost immediate. The creatures movements became slower and more predictable and all the water seemed to drain from his body. His eyes went wide and in desperation he went for another swing, but it went wide. Ross grabbed him and held him still as Smith made a final blow to him and his body turned to dust.
“Smith you okay, sunshine?” Trott said, rushing over to him, his human form returning.
“I'm fine, don't worry,” he replied with a smile. Trott took some herbs from a different pocket and placed them across the wound, saying some basic words of healing, and watched as his skin started to heal.
“We need to go before anyone else turns up,” Trott started running to the door and the other two followed closely behind.
Bursting through the door, they went straight toward the car they had waiting. Trott and Ross both got in the back and Smith slid across the hood of the car and jumped into the driver's seat.
Smith started the car and sped off, just as sirens started to echo through the city. Trott looked over to Ross, who was breathing heavily and very obviously beginning to panic. He got Ross’ attention by grabbing his hand and smiling at him, whispering gentle words in the fae language and letting his magic pulse around him. Ross visibly calmed down from this, under the effect of Trotts spell.
“Smith mate, i think we need a distraction. To lose the humans and all,”
“Alright then, take the wheel mate,” Smith sighed.
Before Trott could react, Smith jumped from the car, leaving Trott to quickly climb into the front and take control of the vehicle.
____
Smith rushed directly to the nearest petrol station he knew of. Distractions were fun, he could do this any time of day.
The petrol station was small and a little run down, which was perfect for what he needed. He started taking out the pumps and pouring petrol all over the floor. The clerk in the store saw this and panicked thoroughly. He ran straight out the door yelling, “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING! IF YOU KEEP DOING THAT I’LL HAVE TO CALL THE POLICE!”
Smith paused for a second. Then he waved while continuing his business, not at all threatened by the human, who only panics more.
“You might want to move back, mate,” Smith says to the man who was now on the phone, probably calling the police. He looked over and his eyes somehow widened even more, before starting to run away from the station.
Smith sauntered away, humming a tune to himself. He turned back for just a second, and flicked his hand in the direction of the petrol station.
BOOM
____
Trott and Ross managed to get back to their little flat at the edge of the city without being followed. Ross was worried for Smith more than anything. Trott seemed to be fine, he was going through all the things they got and writing stuff onto paper and sorting everything. Ross wasn't entirely sure what he was doing and he was way too worried to ask.
BOOM
Ross almost jumped out of his skin at the noise thundered through the city. Trott paused for a second, said a few words ross didn't understand, and went right back to his work. Ross wanted to yell at him, ask why he wasn't worried for the man he seemed so close with. Hed only known Smith for a short time, but he felt they were close already. His mix of emotions stunned him in the moment and all he could do was sit and wait.
____
The Garbage Court stole a lot from many different people in the time they were around. They learned to work together, and as time went by, they learned how to keep each other safe.
“So what did we get then!” Smith said, gleefully, as he burst through the door. Ross let the tension leave his body and Trotts mind calmed to a gentle whisper.
This was the first time they worked together.
It was far from the last.
#rems writing#fanfic#yogscast#hat films#urban magic yogs#knife mention#alsmiffy#djh3max#trottimus#umy#umy: trott#umy: smith#umy: ross#ask#anonymous
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Prompt: Sips insists the court carves pumpkins/gets into Halloween this year. You decide who is good or bad at carving.
Just in time for 11 days after Halloween, here is Part 2: Actual Pumpkin Carving! These 2 drawings don’t visually go together at all but----- please enjoy!
You’ll need to full view!
( @umy-event-blog ) if you still want, lol
#umy: halloween event#urban magic yogs#shatsome#umy#i like ross' face#trott thought this whole thing was dumb but he wanted sips to be happy#he carved his into a protection ward so at least it was practical#ross and sips went for something a bit more traditional#smith got bored#i know it's super late but i got so far with these so i figured i might as well still post them#they are not finished technically but it's november#kezdraws
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Hi I've gotten an awesome job and an awesome apartment and I love my husband and my cats so much. My pyramid of needs is filling up so I've been thinking a lot about fae and umy recently. I spent quarantine reading through polygon rpf (which, god, I have so many recs please talk to me about patbri) and nothing sets off creativity like a fresh fandom.
I have a bunch of umy ideas and drafts, inspired by that urban magic ttrpg I lifted npcs from umy for, great fics I've read recently, hypnokink research I personally have been getting into.
I've been thinking a lot about Will, Garbage Court, some drugs and alcohol, sorcerous awakenings, and a bank robbery. Kirin overplaying his hand in his desperation to hold onto Will.
I've written a little draft of Smith taking Will with him to some court business, watch the master charm this helpless human or kill it trying. But Will gets too close, digs curious fingers into the magic, and gets caught himself.
I've also been thinking about repo!hats, option one, scene two. Smith's distressed for more than one reason when his doses wear off, his anxieties amplified by the looming appointments with Sips. Smith kisses Ross again, but he'd regret it immediately, flinching from anything more intimate. Trott is taking their clear sexual tension in stride, and even politely alerts his eyes from bruising on Smith's hips. Trott is certainly not waiting for when Smith decides he's more trouble than the Z's worth. Smith is using less every day, and sees Sips before and after shifts. Trott and Ross spend time together after work, and Ross mentions he doesn't know where he stands with Smith. They start putting the horrifying pieces together over a long conversation.
I've been thinking a lot about option one repo!Sips having a bad day, Smith coming in right after some bad news. What pieces Trott and Ross would have to put together after that.
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Cupcakes and Cuddles - Snuggly Sunday
Not only am I back, but there's a prompt list happening and I couldn't not after my partner told me about it.
Prompt list made by the always wonderful Labcoatraven and Ghostofgatsby ❤
(Also, finally did my own rendition of the UMY universe fic which I have followed since it first started, and man- I never thought SEVEN years later I'd be making a branch of my own ideas for it!)
Day 1 - Snuggly Sunday for Sips3max
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Cupcakes and Cuddles
Sips is sick, Smith's an asshole, Ross is confused and Trott just wants to get the shopping done.
Sips/Ross/Trott/Smith - Mature - Urban Magic Yogs Universe
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Ahoy!
I’m having a hard time writing piratey stuff but I figured I could at least draw Trott as a selkie pirate :D He’s sitting on the side of the boat, contemplating thievery.
I do have some stuff written so idk when I’ll finish it up… I wanted to at least show something x-x! @umy-event-blog
My prompt was: Pirate!trott who is made to walk the plank for a reason of your choice (did he use forbidden magic? did he get too snarky with the captain? something else?). of course, once he’s in the water, he shifts back into his skin. what happens when he reappears? is he discovered, or does he manage to stay unrecognized? who can he trust?
#umy#urban magic yogs#umy: halloween event#i'll try to finish what i've got but it's hard when you're a perfectionist D':#a perfectionist that can't write hahaha#cat's art#forgot to tag#his face was reffed from that one pic of Trott as Grimm that I still can't get over 😍#awkward pose is awkward... people are hard to drawwww
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Are there any posts you could direct me to to get started with this au? I just discovered it very recently and it looks awesome but there’s a lot of stuff to dig through and I’m not sure where to start
The essential premise of UMY is that magic is real, monsters are real, and this all exists in tandem with the regular world. The characters might be magical or might just be ordinary humans dealing with the magical world crossing their path. There are headcanons that are very popular and used frequently, such as Trott the selkie or Lomadia as a witch. If you want to conceive of UMY where everyone’s a ghost? hell yes, we support it.
I know this might not be the answer you hoped to read. But I do hope you’ll give the AU a bit of a wander, dip into stories or just scroll through your favorite character tag on the blog to see some of the ideas. Things have been quieter in the past two years but there’s a wealth of older content AND room for plenty of new stuff. There are people in the Yogs who weren’t there when this AU started and frankly this mod would be delighted to hear how Bouphe or Lydia might fit into the story.
Part of the fun of this AU is that there aren’t really rules and everyone gets to make up the origin stories they want. This extends to the very setting - many people imagine the magical city where events take place is based on London, Berlin, Paris, Chicago or New York. But it might also be a smaller city, and it could be anywhere in the world. We really encourage people to make the Magical City their own, the City they want to see.
What I would suggest is perhaps checking out the AO3 collection of fics by various authors set in UMY au. There’s over 200 there and hopefully some of them appeal! Some authors have written continuous series, and many have written one offs or shorts set in the AU. There’s content from G-rated to M-rated and everything between.
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henlo i asked questions abt your au in the tags of my reblog but i’m too lazy to retype them so i’m just letting you know :)
asdhgasdgadjas im flattered!!!!
Anyways yeah trott’s notes got cut off since it was a crappy photo but basically it was saying how the necklace he’s wearing is his baby teeth (baby tusks more like) and how he’s some sort of mythical being but smith and ross don’t know what type (to be fair they haven’t ever asked). he also worships the Hand of Truth and does divinity through it
I wouldn’t consider it UMY tbh asaghdhajs its just a random au that i came up with for fun after drawing the witch ross
Also yea Ross made his cloak! Trott and Smith both don’t know he’s a werewolf, he’s trying his best to hide it from them. It was hard for him to make because it forces him to face all the animals he’s killed while transformed (he can’t control himself), but he feels like this is a way to respect them and the loss of their life. He’s super protective over the cloak because of this (along with y’know, it keeps his curse in check) and gets defensive when smith or trott asks about it (to be fair, why wouldn’t they? the inside is quite a weird mix of different furs)
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Drew this from Trott’s Instagram for UMY
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UMY Smith aesthetic. I’ve been writing another little fic about him, and I can’t get it quite right. The feelings are there, but the words seem to press against the paper like diluted ink, leaving stains but not a clear image. I’m going to keep working on it, but for now, I’ve come up with this.
When I think of my UMY Smith, I think of anxiety, or depression, but of carelessness and freedom, a need to be on the left side of what’s right, and, more importantly, to always be loyal. Dark mud, gray skies, dull colours. Harshly carved wooden hearts and pretty rocks in a jar for no reason other than “I can.”
That’s my Smith. He’s not perfect, he’s not proud, but he’s young of spirit and fresh of heart, and he’ll get there in the end. My Smith represents the darker parts of myself more than I like to admit.
My Trott is who I want to be, and who I sometimes overcompensate for. Rigid of nature and intensely protective. That isn’t Smith. He’s chaotic neutral, destructive, and fiercely independent, but sensitive under it all.
Fic coming soon!
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Trottsy?
From this postSend me a yog?
TROTT 1) A selkie prince, the high lord of the garbage court 2) DESCRIPTION: Light brown skin, his eyes are almost completely black, short brown hair with an undercut, almost always wears a long thick brown coat that holds his spell components 3) FRIENDS: Ross, Smith, Sips, Fiona and Zoeya, and has a tentative alliance with Strife and Lying 4) ENIMIES: Kirindave and all of his court, Nano and Lalna5) ONESHOT: The first time Trott saw the city he felt the unbalance. The Fae in the city that was under Kirins court pretended everything was fine but it was far from that.
There was an underlying energy to the whole place unlike anything that Trott had ever felt. Most cities had some kind of energy but nothing that felt as alive as this one. Maybe it was something to do with the amount of Fae in the city that were against the ruling court, maybe it was something to do with the humans and how lost souls seemed to gravitate towards the city. Maybe Trott went back there to rebel with the other Fae. Maybe he went back there because he was lost too.
Trott doesn’t know why he was drawn to the city so much, but since he came he’s found a few reasons to want to stay despite the unrest and all the troubles that come with it.
Even if he could leave, there wouldn’t be much that could drag him away from it.
#umy#urban magic yogs#umy: trott#the garbage court#yogscast#hatfilms#trottimus#rems writing#headcanon#umy basics
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later that night,
you drown
#troffy#urban magic yogs#umy#garbage court parties are dangerous#2 drawings in 2 weeks???#who am i??#this all started because three showed me an amazing shirt but turns out it was too hard to draw#so i created this much easier halter version instead#it gets the point across#i also tried to draw trott's hair the way bee did sometimes and that was very hard too lol#??#kezdraws
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I've always had Big Thoughts about Smith and how being/presenting male was a huge detriment to the whole "picking up vulnerable people and drowning them" thing. People are gonna be suspicious of a 6 foot guy trying to get you in his car.
So here are some of my headcanons that answer this issue
a kelpie's true form is a horse adjacent creature. you know, the creepy waterlogged #fae horses.
young kelpies first learn glamours for the anatomically similar horse, but the ability to shape reality in relation to themselves is powerful, as it is in most water fae. Theyll soon be able to shift their entire physical form, not just the perception of it. Of course, the next most natural form is a horse. And to interact with humans beyond hunting, well, you gotta look like a human.
Any glamour or form a kelpie takes is basically a costume, the individual is *choosing* how to look
SHAPESHIFTERS ARE ALWAYS NONBINARY
(personal aside, I've been off T for a while and god I feel like a completely different PERSON so) different bodies literally affect Smith's personality, to an extent.
femme!Alex loves the mind games. She prefers to toy with people, both for her own amusement, and if they're prey, well, their emotional high of fear is one more tasty thing she gets to munch on when she finally drowns them. Her favorite food is emotional energy.
femme!Alex pros: seeks out people already leading chaotic lives, and her clean drownings mean she can usually make a pretty penny selling a body nobody will even be looking for for a few days.
Trott is convinced since shes always feeding off all that riled up emotional energy, shes more riled up and emotional. He swears shes more impulsive, more sexual.
masc!Smith lives for the pleasures of the flesh. food and fucking, and for him, they're one and the same. he wouldnt be able to tell you which he liked more, feeding on the sexual energy before the drowning, or the flesh and blood he ate afterwards
masc!Smith pros: usually content with smashing stuff/someone up, no patience or interest in making up and playing out drawn out political games for fun. Intimidating presence. More in tune with the water (the local water fae hate when they're Alex, she always says she'll visit but she NEVER does >:c
Trott doesnt like how Smith always runs hot, temper or sex drive or energy.
History:
True name: Alsmiffy. Got to the city in early 1900s, before cars are common. They had to get a job to pay for a place to live, and only men could do that, so human male form it was. Kelpies dont really have a concept of gender, so Alsmiffy doesnt mind their pronouns matching their current form. In the evenings it was still easy to hunt down by the river as a horse.
By the 40s horses had nearly disappeared from the city, and no one was approaching wild ones anymore. Smith started working as a taxi chauffeur, driving people about, drowning a few every so often.
In the 60s they started moving towards the hunting style of present day, using the lure of sex to draw in prey. This is when they started presenting as female more regularly.
Of course, Trott gets fed up with all the shit Alsmiffy pulls. But always wrongly blames it on their form. If Alex is impulsive and sexual, and Smith is hot headed and hot blooded, maybe the issue isnt the body, it's the person, lmao.
As Alsmiffy becomes more comfortable male and female presenting, they spend longer amounts of time in one body or the other. Trott finds some reason or other to ask them to change ("hey can you seduce ___?" or "hey can you be extra muscle at ___?") and they're usually too indifferent to shift back.
As this goes on, Alsmiffy is cultivating two different social circles worth of court favor, but only one at a time, and usually only one for weeks at a time. The sharper and more well connected people put together that the siblings manage some other affairs out of the city, and whatever it is cant be left alone for very long, because one or the other is always out there. Rumors fly wildly about what it may be.
The Troffy Feels
In present day, Alsmiffy has started to realize Trott resents both of their regular human bodies. Instead of addressing the issue of Alsmiffy leaving chaos behind them, Trott postpones the issue again and again by derailing Alsmiffy's focus whenever their collateral damage gets too much. Trott's resentment only grows because the issue keeps coming up, and Alsmiffy just gets increasingly aggressive requests to "go get your 'brother/sister'"
Of course, because its Alsmiffy, this is the gravest of insults and must be responded to as a challenge. (You dont like me now? Oh you'll see how bad I can be.) As time wears on, they start to take it more and more personally, and it becomes the spectre hanging over their relationship.
Ross, who joined them in 60s-80s (not sure exactly when yet) never saw their relationship any other way, and has no other reference for relationships, tries his best to talk them down individually. It doesnt always work, and he usually clears out when they're all together, to give them some time and space to talk things out. (Trott and Alsmiffy both resent the other for always escalating arguments to the point where Ross wont even be in the same room as them)
Despite it all, Trott and Alex have never touched each others' keys/skin. All three of them tell themselves that means they're okay, they wouldnt cross that line so they still respect each other, still love each other. On the worst days that feels like the only assurance they have.
__________________________________________________________________________________
All these headcanons are being refined thanks to my ongoing Urban Shadows game, a ttrpg made by Magpie Games, run on Powered by the Apocalypse.
It is such a great game, even if you're not adapting it to run umy, lmao. The team is working on 2nd edition out later this year, but a quick start version is out now and I'm p sure it's free on drivethruRPG
#urban magic yogs#nate writes#please cry with me about this cause i just have a troffy playlist full of love/hate and toxic relationship songs#and i funnel all the emotions i have into that playlist#cause i cant talk about it to my players!#please god let the double bracket MORE still work to make a readmore
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A pic of Selkie!Trott from UMY. Probably right around his exile, I like to picture him with long lovely hair before he shears it off in rebellion of his past after he meets Smith.
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youtube
I found a song that I think fits @threeplusfire little band of rebels called the Garbage Court from her UMY AU.... :)
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so i was organizing my art folder and apparently i just? made this at some point?? i have no memory of when i drew this or what i was planning to do with it, so idk what else to do with it besides post it.
#urban magic yogs#umy#umy: smith#umy: ross#umy: trott#umy: garbage court#garbage court#hatfilms#hat films#theres probably a billion things wrong with this but just#shhhh#its going up anyways#daria draws#yogscast#trottimus#alsmiffy#djh3max
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Choosing Death
AO3 Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/5851477
“Trott, mate... What is he talking about?” Israphel laughed again, and Trott couldn’t repress the shiver that traveled along his spine.
“Your leader understands how magic works, gargoyle. You chose to keep the human, but a sacrifice still must be made. The universe demands it.”
The Garbage Court gets backed into a corner, and Trott must make a decision.
Trott woke up when the hood was ripped off his head. He groaned and opened his eyes, only to immediately shut them again. It was too fuckingbright.
“Look who’s finally coming around.” Trott growled, but didn’t bother responding. Whoever their captor was, he was a massive dick. He attempted to move his hands, but they were locked to the chair behind him. His wrist burned where metal touched his skin. Iron. Fuck.
“Trott! Trott, can you hear me?” He heard clinks and clanks of metal. His eyes flashed open.
“Ross?” The gargoyle was on the other side of the room, wrapping in chains like a heavy metal mummy. It would have been a hilarious sight in any other situation. He could see Ross struggling, against his bonds, but they weren’t budging. He looked over the other man, trying not to let his concern show on his face. Now wasn’t a time to show weakness. He seemed to be intact, with no new cracks or chips that Trott could see. But he was close to panicking. His blue eyes were wild, his chest, heaving.
“I’m sorry, Trott.” Ross was rambling, even as he pulled against the titanium, “They got the drop on us. I tried to fight, but they grabbed you and-”
“Shut up.” The voice was a hiss, rough and ancient as the sands of time. For the first time, Trott looked at his captors.
They weren’t anyone he knew, of that he was certain. Their magic was strong, pungent, and very, very old. He would recognize that feeling if he had felt it before. This was alien to him. But he knew who they were. He would recognize those masks anywhere. He let out a slow sigh. Bounty hunters are the fucking worst.
“Israphel. Strawfingers. Quite a surprise to meet you here. To what do we owe this meeting?” Though he couldn’t be sure, Trott would swear he saw Israphel’s ruby eyes flash.
“Strawfingers, wake up the other one.” Trott and Ross could only watch as the scarecrow went over to the third chair, shadowed in the darkness. Strawfingers ripped the hood off, and Trott swore he could hear hair ripping as well. Smith’s head lolled forward, but he didn’t wake up. Strawfingers curled his fingers into a fist and sunk a punch into Smith’s stomach. The selkie woke up with a sharp gasp of pain and a bout of coughs as he tried to regain his breath. Ross started thrashing again.
“You fucking pricks! You absolute scum, I’ll rip your fucking dicks off, you-” The masked man lifted his hand, preparing to hit Smith again, and Ross fell silent. Smith shot him a slight smile. A trail of blood trickled down his chin from a busted lip and Trott could see a bruise darkening around his eye. The sight pissed him off.
“You’ll pay for that,” Trott spoke, glaring at Israphel. It wasn’t too difficult to figure out who was calling the shots. He more felt than saw the man’s oily smile. Trott took a deep breath. It was time to get to business. “Who put a hit on us?” Israphel's laugh felt like barbed wire on his ears.
“No one, foolish selkie. You have broken the rules, and things must be balanced.” Trott could feel himself paling. A knot burrowed into his stomach. Ross met his eye with worry.
“Trott, mate... What is he talking about?” Israphel laughed again, and Trott couldn’t repress the shiver that traveled along his spine.
“Your leader understands how magic works, gargoyle. You chose to keep the human, but a sacrifice still must be made. The universe demands it.”
“The universe can fuck off,” Trott spat, letting a sliver of anger into his voice.
“Sometimes, I might agree with you.” The red eyes were drilling into him. Trott didn’t know what kind of magic he held, but it made him was to hide. The man carried the essence of death. “But, nevertheless, if the Garbage Court gains one member-” He paused, and pulled a gun from his hip. “-it must lose another.”
“Don’t you dare!” Trott shouted, reaching from something, anything, any magic that could get them out of here. But there wasn’t enough. He’d only get them killed. Ross and Smith were silent for once in their lives. They had caught onto what was happening, stunned with the weight of their dilemma, just as he had been. Israphel was on the verge of giggles, as though their suffering was the most delicious thing he’d experienced in centuries. He moved behind the selkie, leaning to whisper in his ear. The hot breath and flecks of spit that landed on his ear made his stomach churn.
“But fear not, Trottimus. I will not take control of your Court from you. The decisions will still fall to you.” To his shock, he felt one of the cuffs fall off his wrist. He was free. But god, he didn’t dare move. What are they doing? Trott thought, becoming only tenser at this new development. He couldn’t predict their actions, and therefore couldn’t plan for what was coming. He hated it. Trott stiffened as he felt the hard edge of the gun trail down his neck and collarbone.
“I usually hate human technology, but these I can support,” Israphel mused. Trott was no longer sure if he was expecting replies, so he kept his mouth shut. “So much power in such a small item... Even your gargoyle would not withstand a blow from this... But I am certainly curious to see its effects.” The gun fell away from his skin. Israphel must have made a gesture, because Strawfingers moved from Smith’s side and walked up to the selkie. He pulled another pistol out and forced it into Trott’s hand. He could feel his eyes widen. He understood.
“No. I refuse.” He felt the barrel of the gun press against the back of his head, heard the click as the bounty hunter cocked it, and still he did not move.
“Come on Trott.” Brown eyes flicked to meet blue. Ross was smiling, but the look was sad, resigned. He looked like Trott had already pulled the trigger. “Go for it, mate. It’s only fair. Last in, first out, right? Just get it over it.” Trott could see it all too clearly. Ross’s head, shattering apart, erupting into a cloud of dust and fragments. He wasn’t even sure if Ross would die, or just live on, fractured into a million pieces and-
“No, Trott. I’m the fuck-up, remember? You need Ross. Just get rid of me and be done with it.” Smith tore him from the awful image, by only supplying one just as horrible. Smith, with a hole in his head, a trail of blood trickling down his nose like a tear and-
“Hurry up, you prick,” Smith chuckled, eyes locked on the floor, “Haven’t got all day.” Ross spoke up again.
“No, Trott, don’t, I-”
“Would you two stop asking me to kill you for two seconds!” He shouted, and they fell silent. God, his hands were shaking. He looked at each of them, studying their faces, trying to commit each one to memory. He lifted the gun, willing his hand steady. “I’m sorry, sunshines...” He spoke slowly. The words like novocaine on his tongue. He only felt numb. “But you fucks better run.” With reflexes quicker than the eye could follow, Trott turned and fired a bullet into Israphel’s gut. He used all the energy he could muster, forcing a spell that cracked Smith’s handcuffs and cut Ross’s chains. They were just staring at him. “Run, you idiots!” He screamed as he moved to fire at Strawfingers. “R-”
There was a bang, and Trott knew no more.
#My writing#yogfic#umy#umy: trott#umy: ross#umy: smith#implied hatsome#dark fic#blood#violence#ambiguous character death#I don't know what I'm doing either
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