POV: You’re a highblood troll, cloaked in your usual superiority—but when Marvus Xoloto strolls up to you, all charm and unbothered swagger, the vibe shifts.

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The Outglut nightlife is buzzing, but you’re used to it. You’ve stood above it all—both metaphorically and literally—for sweeps now. Most trolls don’t approach you without some kind of reverence, fear, or at least a respectful bow of the head.

But he does.

Marvus Xoloto. You know the name—who doesn’t? The most beloved purpleblood on the scene. Pop icon, cult leader without the cult structure. You’ve heard the rumors, seen the way lowbloods practically fall over themselves at his shows.

Now he’s standing in front of you, flashing a toothy smile like he’s the one who should be impressed.

“yo yo yo :o) u lookin real high n mighty rn bb” “u from round here or just swingin thru?”

His smile doesn’t falter. If anything, it grows.

“nah nah i get bored up there sometimes” “besides… gotta keep in touch w/ the caste fam, ykwim?”

You’re not sure if he’s mocking you, or just naturally that glib. Still, there’s a sharp glint in his eye that says he’s watching you, reading between the lines.

“Careful who you play casual with, clown,” you say coolly. “Not everyone’s your fan.”

He chuckles. A low, lazy sound.

“damn bb u real spicy” “don’t worry. i don’t need fans 2 validate me” “i just like knowin who’s vibin n who’s fakin”

You eye him more carefully now. He’s not just a performer. There’s something deeper under the showman exterior—something calculating, maybe even dangerous. But you’re no stranger to that game.

“So… what? You checking to see if I’m a fake?” you ask, tilting your chin.

“nah” “just wanted 2 see if u was worth talkin 2”

He flashes you one last grin, gives you a two-finger salute, and starts to walk past.

“guess i’ll keep watchin u, highblood :o) see if u got more bite than bark”

And just like that—he’s gone, melting back into the crowd like mist.