Brodacious! A BroZone Oneshot Collection

Introductions

A/N: Requested by annamarielabeau on Tumblr :)

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When Clay managed to get himself upright again (or as upright as he could, hunched there in the bushes), he huffed in annoyance.

"What was that for?"

"SHHH!" the Troll who'd shoved him into their hiding hissed in a hushed voice. "Are you crazy? You're going to get us killed!"

She's one to talk about being crazy, he thought. No respectable Troll would go around pushing folks into the shrubs! "Look, I don't know - "

"SHHH!" he was interrupted by her again, the shushing more urgent.

"But I just - "

"SHHHH! SHHH! SHHHH!" She gestured wildly, hoping he would get the message.

Problem was, Clay didn't really know what her message was. She had hardly said a word to him on whatever matter was putting her in such a fritz, and her strange behavior had gone on long enough for him to become annoyed. He gave her a deadpanned look, and raised his hand slowly (and quite sarcastically) as if a student in a classroom waiting to be called on.

"What?" she grumbled. "What could be so important that you're gonna lead them right to us?!"

Clay cocked his head. "What? Who is 'them'?" he asked, uncertain.

"You know!" she said, lowering her voice. "Them."

Clay crossed his arms. "I'm not catching your drift, girl."

She rolled her eyes and came closer, whispering something that had two words in it, though he couldn't make anything out aside from "The..."

"Come again?" he asked.

"Darn it, the BERGENS!" she shouted. As soon as she did, however, she gasped and covered her mouth.

Clay startled when he heard screams sound from around them - other Trolls he hadn't realized were there frantically scurrying out and about, and whimpering with fear.

The Troll he was with facepalmed and muttered under her breath. "Ay, caramba..." Then she scrambled out of the bush and cupped her hands around her mouth, amplifying her voice. "Okay guys, please calm down, settle down please! It's a false alarm! There aren't any of them around, we're okay!"

"Are you sure?" one worried voice asked.

"Yes," she assured.

Clay took the opportunity to step out from the bushes as well, brushing off stray leaves and dirt that clung onto his vest and slacks. Plucking out a twig stubbornly clung to his yellow hair, he got a better look at the girl who'd roughly shoved him in the first place, now that they were in the light. Like much of the other Trolls who accompanied her, he noticed she was costumed in greenery - a camouflage of grasses and drab brown coverup. Yet, something seemed to spark his memory...

"You look familiar..." he mumbled out loud.

At the mention of it, the Troll ditched the attire, freeing her golden-curled do and exposing pink skin from under the dull colors that she'd powdered herself with. When her fuchsia eyes met his, he already knew who she was even before she properly introduced herself with a wide smile and perky attitude to match.

"Hiya, I'm Viva! Former princess of Pop Village, current leader of Putt Putt Village and every Trollstice Refugee. Well, at least that's what we're calling ourselves for now... But anyway, it's super nice to meet you, mister...?"

He extended a hand out for her to shake. "Clay."

"Mister Clay! Right, can I just say that I'm so sorry for pushing you like that? I was just trying to make sure you wouldn't be in the way of danger! No hard feelings?"

Clay would have answered respectfully, as he was in the presence of royalty, but his confusion prevented him from doing so. He was being hit with a little too much at once, and was in desperate need of clarification. "Trollstice?" he echoed dumbfoundedly. "Danger? Refugees? What the heck is this all about? And what are Bergens?"

He winced when the screams pierced out again, and the frantic scurrying resumed.

Viva pressed a finger to his lips and tittered nervously. "Please, don't say that word. Like, ever. We try to avoid it. I mean, you would too, right?"

Clay shrugged, clueless.

Viva looked confused. "Uhh... you are from Pop Village, right?"

"I was," the yellow-haired Troll clarified. "I haven't been there in some years."

Viva suddenly seemed to understand. "Ooohhhh... I guess that explains it," she mumbled, more to herself than to Clay. "I'll tell you everything," she explained, "but you gotta come with us. We can't stay here. It's not safe." She turned from him and called to her companions. "Okay, folks! Let's move out!"

"Wait, we're heading back to Pop Village?" Clay asked, unsure.

Viva gasped. "No!" she cried. "Never! No way! Unless you'd rather be Bergen lunch!"

The Troll ducked her golden-curled head in embarrassment when her companions screamed yet again at the frightening word. "Sorry!" she squeaked.

Then she grabbed his hand and tugged him along behind her. "We're going somewhere safer. Somewhere a-mastic!"

When Clay gave her a baffled look at the strange new word, she sighed. "No good? Yeah, I don't think so either. I've tried it a few times, but I'm kinda just like 'bleh,' don't like it."

Continuing on their path, she spoke with incredible speed and energy, so much so that at times it was difficult to keep up. But Clay managed, learning all about the survivors' town even before they arrived to it, and the critical necessity it was to shield themselves from the monstrous predators that were their enemy. By the time he stepped within the gates, he knew all about these 'Bergens,' and what chaos they'd caused.

His involvement in their mission and with Viva, however, was something that was yet to be discovered.