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“That’s… That’s made of diamond isn’t it.”
“Yeah.”
Floyd feels icy dread crawl through his body. He knew that the note mailed to him would spell trouble. His brother’s handwriting didn’t look like that. So clearly something was up.
The younger troll just wishes it wasn’t that bad.
Surrounded by cloudy diamond walls, John Dory’s hair was darker than even his. The perfume bottle’s colors did his older brother no favors. He was haggard looking with disheveled dirty clothes and his ears that were starting to droop downwards. He seems to be on perpetual alert. Staring at anything that wasn’t Floyd, eyes darting to the littlest of sounds and lights. Stress lines pulled at his dull face and dead eyes. It told more of his captivity than anything said. Worry rotted Floyd’s gut. His older brother needed saving in more ways than one. Floyd could just hope it was the bottle that seemed to be removing his brother’s colors. He wouldn’t wish that on anyone.
He of all trolls knew how bad it was to lose your colors.
Honestly if you asked him, Floyd didn’t think he’d see any of his brothers ever again. He thought Trollstice would’ve gotten them all. Especially since he heard several years ago that the Burgens stop celebrating Trollstice. So clearly that tree had finally decayed. Every troll there was gone. Of course that didn’t mean everyone was dead, he himself saw his older brother’s walk out himself. It wasn’t the end of Pop Trolls. Just of their era. Their band breakup fractured their family. Shattering it to pieces that scattered to the wind. Directionless and far from that cursed tree.
He just wishes that his baby brother and grandma did the same. It wasn’t their fault. They were weak due to old and young age. Too unable to make the deadly journey. So his promise to Bitty B was broken, he didn’t come back for him like he said.
Floyd lost all of his color that day.
Didn’t have the energy to pick up the pieces. His self medication didn’t help either. It was only when a group of rock trolls that mistook him for their own, helped him get better that he started to gain color again. The effects still lingered, but he was getting better. No longer having to help anyone but himself, he could get in touch with who he is.
They wrote the most emotional album together.
It was called emo-rock.
He should check up on them again. See what they’ve been up to in the past couple months. Maybe they could help him with this? They do have a lot of mining equipment for their instruments. Perhaps their power cords could do more damage than any family harmony.
Perfect or otherwise.
John Dory’s voice brought him out of puzzle solving thoughts.
“Look, Floyd. I need you to open that closet door over there.” The trapped troll gestured to a door he hadn’t noticed before.
“...Is there a Diamond breaking hammer in it?”
“What? No?-” He said quite baffled, as Floyd ran up and jumped on the door button “-I just need you to free her and get out of here.”
Her!?!
Was there another troll trapped in this horrorshow house!?!
How many trolls was he signing up to save?!
When the door opened there was some sort of creature, which was apparently leaning on the door, falling forward out of it. Floyd had never seen anything like it.
She apparently had no clue what was going on as she growled and tried tearing at the furniture closest to the entrance.
“I-what?-I mean she’s-Well she looks-uh-” Floyd could feel his cheeks burn as he tried to figure out anything to say that was nicer than ‘John I thought this was something important like another troll, not another dumb lost critter you’ve found’; but was having trouble doing so.
“Her name is Rhonda, and she’s an Armadillo Bus.”
Before Floyd could ask how the heck did his brother find this transport critter, John Dory loudly whistled. It was a shrew squealing noise that cut through the soft quietness of their conversation. Worst of all was only lightly muffed by the troll’s reflective prison. Floyd couldn’t help but wince at it.
But it apparently did the job as the bus snapped her head towards them.
“Rhonda baby, come here!”
The armadillo bus crawled up the giant table and knocked over several nail polish bottles and hair care products. It was quick mayahem that was half excitement and half worry stuffed into a large beast. A frightening combo. She bolted straight for John Dory’s diamond prison. Charging into the bottle, she started knocking it around. Then biting into it. Then sitting on it. She tried over and over to get his brother out of it with wild growls and whines. None of those tries ever worked.
But strangely, with fond eyes and a bittersweet soft smile, John praises her futile efforts anyway.
At least he’s happy about something.
“Such a good girl!”
There was something surreal about his brother talking in a baby voice towards some giant critter after not really hearing his voice for over 20 years. Quickly though John Dory’s tune changes as Rhonda knocks into the diamond a few more times. Floyd can’t help but tense up. His brother frowns and gives a big sigh before forcing a smile. Not a real smile. The kind of smile he’d wear when push interviewers used to bring up their mom. It made the ends of Floyd’s fur stand up.
His brother turns back to him.
Making eye contact through the prison for the first time.
“I need you to listen to Floyd now okay? He’s going to take care of you from now on.”
“Huh? I-”
“Floyd, you need to get out of here! Now!"
“Okay, Okay. I will. I’ll- I’ll find our brothers and then we can perform the Perfect Family-”
“No Floyd, that’s not going to work. It never was going to work. Not when we were in our prime, and certainly not now! You need to go and take care of Rhonda! Never come back from this place!”
Oh heck no.
He is not going to let his brother be tortured while Floyd is figuring out how to take care of a pet he didn’t want! No Way! He’s spent the last 20 years pet free and happy! He’s not going to deal with some critter that’ll make going to ragers harder!
Floyd will find their family and they will sing together because nothing’s more harmonious than the mutual goal of saving a troll’s skin!
Loud voices boom through the room as stomping noises gradually grow louder. Someone’s approaching the room’s door.
It was time to go.
Floyd takes one last look at John Dory.
“...I know you don’t believe me, but I will come back for you John Dory! I Promise!”
He wishes John said anything in return, or at least gave him a nod as hopped into this strange critter and zoomed by those giant phony superstars who tried to catch him and Rhonda. But his older brother just looks away at the table ground behind him, pulling out some sort of strange tropical postcard. Studying the card instead, expression blocked from few. It was cold and it hurt.
Floyd was going to save John Dory, even if it was just out of spite!
But even with all the motivation and looking in the world, it took him several months to find his brothers. He hadn’t a clue where any of them were. There was no information, no new gossip mags, nothing. Besides Floyd apparently none of his older brothers pursued any career in music, solo or otherwise. The strangest thing he couldn’t understand. His anxieties amplified. It was only talking to his rock troll buddies that he even found out his littlest brother was not only alive, but also in a new village away from Bergen Town!
By the time he found all of his brothers, Velvet and Veneer announced they were taking a hiatus for mental health and creative rejuvenation.
Which meant they weren’t going to be around. There wouldn’t be anyone keeping an eye on John Dory. They could just slip in, harmonize, and leave.
Perfect.
Breaking into the house was easy.
Too easy.
The diamond perfume bottle was not on the desk this time. Instead it was hidden in a giant old locked box labeled Veneer. A scratch old thing with strange guilt filled scrawling all over it. Luckily the key was in the room, hidden under some show clothes. A sloppy hiding place. Unlocked and opened, the first thing they saw inside the box there was the perfume bottle. It was open and empty. Next to it was a crystalized cadaver of a troll that Floyd recognized too well. Insides fell out as Floyd unloaded his disgust and stomach onto the floor. Horror filled on his quickly dulling face. His second oldest brother Bruce, who changed his name from Spruce, called the authorities. There was no reason for them to be there. The diamond didn’t need to be broken open after all.
Bruce held Floyd close like old times. But unlike old times, Floyd couldn’t find it in himself to be sensitive and cry. His oldest brother isn’t there to make him hot chocolate this time. So what would even be the point? The world was becoming dark and gray again.
As the authorities arrested the teenage super stars for murder, Floyd could only think one thing;
He was horrible at keeping promises.