Chapter Text
"In the beginning, there were six strings that held all of the music in the world. After a betrayal from the Pop ancestor, the leaders of each genre prayed to their strings to protect their music and their people, and in turn, each tribe assigned a guardian of their string that gained a unique ability to be passed down throughout generations. Techno trolls, needing to navigate through the deep seas, were given the ability to control the water. Funk trolls, in need of a new home, gained technopathy, which they used to build their home in the sky. Country trolls, new to Lonesome Flats, learned to talk to animals so they could better understand their cattle. Classical trolls, ever the hard workers, needed something to help them relax. Their stringkeeper could make any music they played put anyone who heard it in a relaxed state. Rock trolls followed in the same vein, with their string holder having an almost siren call to help with crowd control. And us pop trolls, we had a stringkeepeer who could shapeshift that then used our string to share a bit of the ability with the rest of us. That's why we can camouflage using our hair."
"Queen Poppy, is that true?"
"Yeah, Queen Poppy, that sounds made up!"
"I promise you, it's true. In fact, I happen to know a few..."
Poppy trailed off as she looked up from her scrapbook, eyes flickering over the reading group as she felt something off. She mentally matched names to faces until she reached a trollling that she'd never seen before. Noticing her looking, the trollling's innocent smile turned into a smirk. Poppy couldn't help her chuckle as she tried to grab the trollling, who rolled out of the way. "Floyd!"
As the trollling rolled out of the way, he grew until he stopped, revealing Branch's immediately older brother. "Hey, Poppy."
Ever since his miraculous recovery, Floyd had been all over the place. Him and Hades were currently staying in Trollstopia while their new pod was being worked on, and the pink haired troll had no idea what to do with himself. "What're you doing here?"
"What, it's story time! I wanted to hear the story."
"You could've just walked in and listened."
"Yeah, but where's the fun in that?"
Poppy rolled her eyes playfully before turning to the class and gesturing towards Floyd. "Is this proof enough?"
Floyd chuckled as the class clambered over to him, all of them asking questions as they made a half circle in front of him. He answered as many of their questions as he could before Poppy had to send the kids home. The two adults saw the group off before Poppy playfully punched his shoulder. “You’re really getting the hang of that.”
He hummed and shrugged. “I mean, we all have our strengths. I’ve just got the shapes. Troll wise, anyway.”
Poppy chuckled at that. John Dory was also good at studying and changing into the shapes of his model, he just preferred that his models be creatures. Bruce was quick to learn how to change his size, wanting to safely play with his kids. Clay had gone on to study vocal imitation, finding the extended vocal range perfect for the occasional prank. Branch had long perfected hair camouflage, but he was working on spreading the ability throughout the rest of his body. Floyd was the furthest in his studies, though when he was asked about it, he offhandedly mentioned a troll they'd never heard of. Poppy was startled out of her thoughts as Floyd went back into the pod, cleaning it up. "Why aren't you with Branch?"
"He's stress cleaning before your boyfriend comes back into town. I got yelled at for getting in the way."
"Ah, sounds about right."
She grinned at the thought, eager to see their boyfriend when he came by to visit. Floyd rolled his eyes affectionately, going back to cleaning. The young queen wasn't going to be any help. A little while later, he patted her shoulder. "Poppy. Poppy, we can go now."
"Oh! But, the cleaning-"
"I finished it while you were off in dreamland. Now let's go."
He took her hand and led her out of the daycare pod. Branch had been overjoyed with how quickly his two favorite pink-haired trolls hit it off, at least until the embarrassing stories started getting shared. Floyd never told the really embarrassing ones, but Poppy would share any little story without shame. They parted ways when they reached town, Poppy heading for the bunker while Floyd headed deeper into the woods. It took a little while before he reached the clearing, spotting the troll he was looking for. He broke into a sprint before throwing himself at his brother. "Bruce!"
Bruce was quick to turn and catch Floyd, holding him upside down in retaliation. "I swear, you're worse than my kids."
"What's all that yelling?"
"Yeah, what're we missing out on?"
Clay and John Dory stepped out of Rhonda, where they were going through the mementos that John had grabbed when he first returned to the tree. Floyd waved from Bruce's arms. "I jumped on Bruce."
"Okay, and why?"
"Why not?"
"Honestly, you have a point."
"Clay? What're you-CLAY!"
Floyd yelped as he hit the ground, Bruce using both arms to catch their middle brother. "Ow!"
"You started this, you don't get to bitch about it!"
"I can bitch about whatever I want, thank you very much."
Clay chuckled from Bruce's arms, annoying his favorite brother by trying to climb into his hair. Bruce huffed, trying to evict his brother from atop his head and failing. "One of these days, you'll have to deal with getting tackle hugged by a grown ass man."
A laugh sounded from the depths of his hair as Branch and Poppy walked up, holding hands. "Bunker's clean. You guys can come back as long as you don't mess it up. Where's Clay?"
"My hair."
"Bruce's hair."
"I can't wait for you to have to deal with tackle hug bullshit."
Floyd chuckled, spreading his arms and walking backwards towards the bunker. "Too bad that's not Branch's style. I'm home free!"
"Roomie!"
Floyd's brothers watched in surprise as their brother was tackled down by...their brother? The Floyd on the ground laughed, sitting them up. He smiled at them eagerly. "Guys, this is Bonnie, my alternate version of myself!"