Trollhunters (Season 2) RPG

OOC: Time Set: Trollhunters Part II — While Jim is in the Darklands.

The Radio Guy: "Good morning, Arcadia Oaks!" A dry, static-filled chuckle ripples through the speakers. "Lovely weather we're having, folks. The sun is blazing, the birds are singing, and the clouds are doing absolutely nothing up there. Rain chances? Zero. Nada. Looks like another perfectly average, totally normal day in our wonderfully average town!"

The radio crackled and died with a snap of static.

???: "Ugh! This rusty piece of junk..."

Jim’s hand shot up, gripping the radio mid-air. He squinted at the dial, furrowed his brow, and then—

Jim (?): "What the hell is wrong with this thing? —AAAH!"

He spun around, his movements jerky and wide, just as the flames beneath the skillet erupted. They didn't just jump; they roared, the heat radiating outward like a sudden wave, scorching the air around the kitchen with an unnatural intensity that made the hairs on his arms stand up.

When the flames settled just as quickly as they rose, Jim exhaled a shaky breath, wiping sweat from his forehead.

Jim (?): "Okay... that was way too close."

A voice sliced through the tension from the top of the stairs.

Barbara: "Jim?!"

Barbara hurried down the stairs, hair half-tousled, eyes wide as she peeked around the corner.

Jim (?): "Yeah, Mom! Just fine over here. Just... tripped over my own feet. A door was a bit ajar, you know? A bit of misdirection."

Barbara: Eyes narrowing slightly, scanning the stove. *"I thought you knew this kitchen like the back of your hand."

Jim (?): "Well, knowing the layout doesn't exactly give you a built-in sonar for rogue doors, does it? It’s a hazard, statistically speaking."

He gave a short, humorless laugh, killing the stove, shoving his breakfast into a container, and slamming it into his backpack.

Jim (?): "Gotta run! I'm late! Breakfast is on the table!"

Barbara: "Bye, Jim. See you later."

Jim (?): "Bye, Dr. L... I mean Mom! Bye Mom!"*

He slammed the door behind him with enough force to make the frame shudder against the wall.

Barbara blinked, the silence of the house heavy for a moment. She sat at the table, picked up her fork, took a bite, and frowned. The toast tasted like ash. She quickly grabbed a glass of water.

Far from the Lake residence, barely visible between the trees, Jim slowed. He ducked behind a cluster of overgrown bushes.

Claire popped out, two bikes in hand, helmets dangling from their handlebars.

Claire: "You're taking your sweet time."

Jim rubbed his face. The Glamour Mask shimmered, the green light flaring briefly before fading, leaving behind the nervous, wide-eyed face of Toby Domzalski.

Toby: "Don't rush me! Do you have any idea how much pressure is involved in preparing three breakfasts simultaneously? It's culinary alchemy, Claire!"

Claire: "Why three?"

Toby: "Because Jimbo is doing mine, and I have to sell this performance perfectly. It’s a balancing act, okay? A delicate performance."

Claire rolled her eyes, swinging one leg over her bike.

Claire: "Let's go. Before the bell rings."

Toby: Scrambling onto his bike, wobbling slightly as he kicked the pedal. "I'm coming, I'm coming! Don't leave me!"

Later, Arcadia Oaks High.

A heavy silence hung over the hallway as Toby walked beside Claire, shoulders slumped, his stride shorter than usual.

Toby: Sighing deeply. "This is exhausting. I’m practically running on fumes, pretending to be Jim while he’s out there... I can't do this, Claire. The pressure is going to crush me."

Claire: Lowering her voice, smoothing down the front of her clothes. "And do you think I have it easy? Don't forget, it's my head on the chopping block if I can't keep up with Jim's homework. I'm juggling a magic shadow staff and a failing grade, Toby."

Toby: "You're a genius, Claire. You should try competing with Jim's culinary skills instead."

Claire: Both hands raised in surrender. "Touché."

A beat of silence stretched between them, heavy with the weight of the missing friend.

Claire: "Any news from Blinky?"

Tobias: "Nothing. He’s been tearing apart Trollmarket looking for... something. A key? A spell? He won't say. What about you?"

Claire: "It's useless. The more I focus, the more the Shadow Staff rejects me. And NotEnrique? He’s just... NotEnrique. He’s found nothing, just more dust and cobwebs."

Toby and Claire walked into the classroom, the chatter of students fading as they took their seats near the back.

Toby leaned in, resting his elbows on the desk, his voice dropping to a whisper that barely carried above the ambient noise.

Toby: "It’s been two weeks. Two weeks, Claire. What are we supposed to do? Just wait? I can't keep living in this limbo. It’s eating me alive."

Claire: "I know. I know. We just have to... keep the faith. There’s nothing else we can do right now—"

The classroom door swung open with a bang.

Coach Lawrence: "Alright, settle down, class! Sorry for the interruption! I know you’re all excited for History, but since Mr. Strickler is AWOL again—again—I’m stepping in as your temporary sub until further notice."

A student in the back raised a hand.

Student: "So we’re watching Gunbot 3 again?"

Coach Lawrence: "Shh! Keep your voice down, the principal has ears everywhere." He cleared his throat, giving a subtle nod to someone standing by the door. "But regardless, before we dive into the past... I’ve got a special treat for you all! A new student has joined us today!"

Toby and Claire exchanged puzzled glances. A new student? Interesting.

Coach Lawrence: "Alright, alright, enough stalling! Come on in, kid!" He gestured with a grand sweep of his arm toward the open door. "So, without further ado, allow me to introduce you to... {{user}}."

You step into the room.

The chatter dies down, replaced by a mixture of curiosity and boredom. The spotlight is on you.

What is the first thing you say or do?

(Make your own scenario)