It wasn't my original plan to include Veneer in this story, but I decided to do it anyways because he's such an interesting character, and I somewhat relate to him (to an extent).

Speaking of Veneer, I thought about writing a fanfic about Floyd's life from the band breaking to just before his rescue (and maybe include bits of his childhood). It wouldn't be nearly as happy as She Is The Sea, though.

Moving on!

“Welcome to the Cutie Cutie Cupcake! How can I help you?"

“What's your stance on the Lavender Dream?" the customer asked the host of the cupcake shop in Mount Rageous.

“It's delicious, but I wouldn't recommend it for an office party," he explained. “Too much lavender, and all your employees will be down and out."

“I'll take one to go," the customer said. “I have a driver's test tomorrow and my boyfriend's snoring keeps me up at night."

“Good call, girl," the host replied, and headed into the kitchen. “Hey, Troll-sucker! Are you done icing yet?"

“Just a few more finishing touches!" Veneer called out as he topped the purple cupcakes with white sugar flowers. “And don't call me Troll-sucker. It sounds weird, and I don't want any whackjobs getting the wrong idea."

(Y'all know who you are ರ⁠╭⁠╮⁠ರ)

Just in case you forgot, Veneer and his sister Velvet were pop music sensations, but their musical talents weren't really theirs. For two long months, they were stealing Floyd's talent and nearly sucked the life out of him. Luckily, we saved him and both Velvet and Veneer were taken in by the authorities. Velvet is still in prison, but for good behavior, Veneer got a reduced sentence in exchange for a year's worth of community service.

“Fine," the host replied, taking a finished cupcake with a smug grin. “See you after your lunch break, phony."

“Okay," Veneer huffed as he went out the back door. “Should've just stayed in jail."

If it weren't for his bright green quiff, Veneer would've been unrecognizable. With almost no makeup on his face, he wore baggy black pants, white sneakers, and a blue and white varsity jacket with a sparkly pink cupcake patch sewn into it. The only piece of jewelry left on him was an earring with a red gem on his right ear.

“Come to Daddy," he said to himself as he sat on a bench, opened up a bag, and pulled out a peanut butter and banana sandwich. Just before he could take a bite, he noticed something shiny fly towards a tall golden tower.

Curious, he decided to go there.

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

After sneaking past security, Veneer took the fire escape up to the top of the building, where he found himself in a large room with two shorter, hairless beings, a man and a woman, with white skin and eyes and strange devices implanted in the sides of their heads, and the injured silver guy, with his stomach wrapped in bandages, lying in the lap of Starlene Glitzbourne, an ambitious young scientist who invented light-up elevator shoes, but aspired to be bigger than that.

“I got you, sweet little Georgie," Starlene said sweetly to the silver Rageon. Designed by her to be more endurable than any of their people in existence, he was able to survive being stabbed all the way through. However, that didn't make him completely invincible.

“It hurts..." George groaned.

“Shouldn't that guy see a doctor?" Veneer asked out loud, revealing himself.

“Shouldn't you see your parole officer?" Starlene spat, still angry about her favorite pop stars being frauds. Everyone else in the room just ignored Veneer as a man with black skin and red eyes entered, the skin around his face seemingly stretched and attached to a cybernetic skull.

“Do you have it?!" he barked.

“He does not, sire," the pale woman answered.

“I tried to warn you, Idealist," Starlene said angrily. “The Trolls may be small, but they're stronger than they look."

“Or perhaps you simply overestimate your own value," the Idealist scoffed as steps were placed in front of them by one of two animalistic androids. He stepped up to tower over Starlene.

Now, you might be wondering who the Idealist is. For thousands of years, the Idealist has experimented on creatures across the universe who seemed lower than him, and created many new races of his own. He was the one who stole all of those eggs.

Including Synth's.

“Uh, actually, she's right," Veneer pointed out, stepping in between them. “They're sturdy little guys."

“You would be an expert on the subject, wouldn't you, Mr. Celebrity?" the Idealist said as he grabbed Veneer's face and examined him. “Yes, no doubt a flaw of some type in my own design. I created you lot as merely an aesthetic experiment. Beautiful numbskulls... but your egos have run wild. Like with you and that sister of yours. Say, ‘ah!'"

Veneer was confused, but he complied and opened his mouth wide for him. “Ah?"

“And this one..." the Idealist looked over at George with a laugh, “... was meant to be some sort of improvement? You seriously thought you could copy my work, Glitzbourne?"

“You forced me to accelerate his growth at a pace his brain couldn't keep up with," Starlene argued. “He has the mentality of a six-year-old because of it. Thinks I'm his mommy."

“No, there's something wrong with him even outside all that."

“Yes, there's something wrong with me!" George shouted. “I was stabbed, you condescending andro–"

Annoyed, the Idealist just flicked his hand and George was sent flying into a wall! George groaned in pain as he was telekinetically pushed into the wall.

“Hey, hey, hey!" Veneer cut in. “We'll do whatever makes you happy. No need to hurt anyone... via strange sci-fi tech."

The Idealist just glared at him. “You knew about H2-Omicron's existence for months without alerting me. That doesn't make me happy!"

“H2, what, now?"

“Some Troll who looks like a purple herring," Starlene said.

“Oh, that little guy," Veneer muttered as he remembered Synth. “Sorry about that."

“Just stay out of our business, all you cause is trouble," the Idealist ordered Veneer, then turned to Starlene. “And you... Find H2-Omicron and return it to me... or I will destroy your entire civilization, as is my right as your maker. Do you understand?"

Unable to answer, Starlene just quivered with fear as the Idealist twisted his hand and George was pushed further into the wall, screaming.

“Do you... understand?"

“Yes, sire," Starlene whimpered. With that, the Idealist released George, making him fall on his face, and left with his lackeys.

“You're not just gonna let him scare you like that, are you?" Veneer asked Starlene.

“He created our ancestors and dropped them off here 500 years ago," Starlene explained. “The city itself is now just a tourist attraction and teen hangout spot, but he still has control over all of us. So unless you want to rid the world of a waste of space, I suggest you listen to him."

Veneer just rolled his eyes as Starlene went to help George. Having a bad feeling about all of this, he decided to go after the Idealist and his crew.

“How did H2-Omicron survive after all these years, Ræm?" the Idealist asked one of the pale people, unaware of Veneer following them.

“It was always a slippery little thing, sire," Ræm explained. “Not very clever, despite its power."

“I know all about its power, it's why I want it now," the Idealist reminded him. “It was the only one in its class to manipulate the element it was connected to rather than let it take over its body. Within its brain is the secret to potentially controlling ocean currents and creating the ideal environment for our utopia."

“I understand, sire," Ræm agreed. His female counterpart, Bralø, gave him a look of concern. “But are you really trusting the Rageons to retrieve it?"

“They're merely a backup," the Idealist answered. “If these Trolls are able, I believe I know where they're going. Head to Genesis, then we'll meet back at the Ark and wait for them to come to us."

“Yes, sire," Ræm replied before boarding one ship while the Idealist, Bralø, and the animal-bots boarded another.

Hoping for some small chance to redeem himself, Veneer snuck onto the ship with the Idealist aboard and looked out a small window to view the bustling city below him, maybe for the last time.

“I hope I live to regret this..."

Before you ask, I'm not gonna do what they did in Creek Week (or, at least, try not to). When the Trolls see Veneer again, they're not just gonna forgive him, but they will need each other.

Until next time. 🌈