I had a proper look around, these last couple of days, despite the crappy weather. And I realized: the humans around here should by no means be called krauts. True, that stuff is available at those market-like buildings, stored in tins (everything concerning human comes in tins). But I never once saw anyone actually eat it.
What they DO eat, constantly, is bread and sausages. It comes in various forms and tastes, and it is available literally everywhere. Humans enjoying their favourite pastimes (football, not internet-trolling) – who’s already there? A sausage-seller. a remote place, deep in the forest, a carpark, and? Right. Sausageman. Or Sausagewoman. the humans do not seem to mind who sells that stuff as long as they get it, preferably with a slice of bread and some green stuff called mustard. THAT is fantastic shit, I tell you. And it does funny things to the nose, when you eat at least a mouthful of it. I love it all.
So, today I may proudly say I am a sausage-orc. With a mustard-mustache. Life is great. Fuck the rain.
Humans are stupid. It borders on a miracle that this species made it so far. That, or there are no real vampires in this world. But then why do humans believe in their existence? I had a somewhat irritating discussion (whenever I use the word ‘discussion’ consider it a battle of yelling) with she-human about the matter. We seemed to agree and not agree at the same time which is definitely too much to grasp for my poor little brain.
She has the odd habit of playing games where she pretends to be someone else but it is not the same as the humans in the theaters do (or so she says). It is called ‘role playing game’. In one of those games she pretended to be a vampire. She agreed with me that those are nasty buggers but also insisted that they do NOT exist in real life. I know for sure that they do, but maybe not in this world. The question remains how do humans know about vampires at all if they never existed around here? And how come they have such a wrong picture of those creatures? Trust me, they do NOT glitter. Ever. Except maybe if they fell into a decorated christmas tree. Which is not very likely. I might be able to imagine a situation where that could happen but not to such an amount that it caused reason to believe it made the whole species permanently glitter. You get my meaning. The thing is: if I understand that, how come humans don’t? Only possible answer: humans are stupid (see above) and – all together now – orcs are superiour.
Also there is the fact that in my world vampires are by no means ridiculous or sexy. They are evil in the worst sense of the word, meaning that they’re not even fun to have as an adversary. Blood, blood, blood, is all that matters. Horrid addicts with no sense of humour whatsoever. They put up a good fight and to be honest, in a battle one on one, I would not put my money on the orc (not that I would ever put any money literally ON anyone). Only very few creatures could stand up to a vampire and live to tell the tale. Good thing they usually hunt alone. Orcs never do. It’s the genius of the masses that wins the day. Yes, you heard me right, orcs do in fact have swarm intelligence. How else do you think could our species ever survive? We overrun the enemy if they’re stupid enough not to escape immediately.
While I was still ‘discussing’ the matter she-human went pale and smacked herself in the face. Rather charming I have to confess, although I prefer to do the smacking myself. So I inquired the reason for such odd behaviour. She explained that in those role playing games she not only pretended to be a vampire but also a dwarf (which I found disgusting) and an orc! I had to sit down right then. It was a very special moment for both of us (I see her becoming Mrs. Thrakbog No. 5 – at least I think it’s No. 5.) But her reason for going pale was rather less pleasurable. She played an orc and woops- here I am, a creature she never assumed would exist. What if the vampires then…? You get it. Hehe. So if I got through a portal into this world why not a vampire? And then my idea of a christmas tree-glittery vampire will become reality. I am a prophet. Very much into the christmas spirit, ain’t I?
Please forgive me for not sharing anything with you for the last couple of days. No, wait, why am I apologizing? I am an orc, we don’t do something like that. This human stuff is rubbing off on me in more than one way. The thing is: I had the flu. Again. (see last post) Never before in the 30 years I’ve haunted this world or any other did I have such an annoying illness. Being sick in any form is incredibly unorcish. The other members of the tribe would not let you live if they sensed a weakness. So in my world the flu would definitely be lethal. There is a strange thing about humans that they seem to care a lot for those who would not make it on their own otherwise.
Two days ago I followed my human to visit an old-people’s home. Not only did they live separately from the rest of the tribe but other humans were hired to look after them. Some of them sat in small transport devices, some needed to be fed, almost all of them had problems hearing properly. Not one of them would survive for just one day in the wilderness. And yet humans spend a lot of time and gold to care for these people. The question is why. They are not useful to the tribe, Quite the opposite. Imagine an orc in diapers. An old-orc’s home. Could it get more humiliating? I’m assuming that these humans had a life on their own, stood up for themselves. And here they were, spilling their coffee all over the nappy draped around the neck. On the plus side: their bad eyesight prevented them from recognizing me as a dangerous creature.
But then the music started, a flute and a harp, and suddenly their eyes shone with delight, they started singing and looked just happy. I am not ashamed to admit that it brought a tear to my otherwise cold and merciless yellow eye. Also the singing was horrible to the orcish ear but that was not the point. So what if we let the old orcs live? Put them in special care? Listen to their stories of the good old times? To be honest I am getting frighteningly close to the dangerous age. I might have to share a lot of stories with the young ones. Imagine me sitting down with the chief and telling him to set up a tent for the geriatric orcs. I would be dead before I finished saying ‘XXL-diaper’. So I might be staying here. Would they take me in? What age could an orc reach if not taken out by his tribe or life in the wilderness?
My human does not seem to be too happy about me being around for decades. But I kind of like that idea. The flat we’re sharing is a lot spacier than the one in London. Or rather, it could be a lot spacier if it were not stuffed with books. I seriously consider eating a few of them to gain more room but after the first experience I fear I cannot stomach them. Heavy stuff, hard to digest.
Also I think I found some comrades in spirit in this world, this town, the online world. I have not found them in person but I suspect at least some of them to live rather close to me. Could it be that they’re avoiding my acquaintance? Why? I am an exceptionally nice orc! A total disgrace to my tribe, to be honest. I think I’ll call them my twitterades. Yes, I’m talking about you, @tywunon and @mekaredaray . A lot of avatars on the web do not look the least bit like a real human. I know for sure because my human is not a tiny blue fluffy creature but her avatar is. So are my twitterades a she-human and a green reaper? Who knows? And who cares? That’s what I like about the interweb. It does not matter what you look like. I can just be my usual grumpy orcish self. Hurrah.
Let me ask you one question:
WT actual F is a working week?
I find it difficult enough that a week in this world only lasts seven days but working for five and then resting for two is a bit of an eye-opener tbh. No wonder that orcs are superiour. And it also caused an enormous amount of trouble this morning, as I got caught sneeking into the flat of the she-human I had selected to be my flat-share (unbeknownst to her, or so I thought).
But she-human had not gone to work. And why?
Because it’s f*** saturday!
And most kraut-humans obviously do not go to work but stay in bed on saturday mornings. So imagine the shrill outcry when we came face to face (or rather face to impressive broad chest) in the room called Bed (Very uncreative these humans. It was the same name that she-human in London called her room for sleeping). She did yell, too. But the strangest thing happened next: She called me by my name.
It went like this:
Me: Um, yes?
She: This cannot be true. I thought you were…
She: Not real. A twitter character. Someone made up. I mean, I’ve been following you for months. But now you look like an orc and you smell like one even more.
She: You okay?
Me: I think I need a bit of a sit-down, actually.
Only then did it occur to her that it might not have been the first time that I had sneeked into her flat.
She: So you actually are a mean and nasty and ugly and horrible, violent creature?
I was moved by her passionate words and could only nod, not trusting my voice at all. Couldn’t afford to sob after such a characterization, could I.
There was clearly a battle af fear and curiosity going on inside her, mixed with a healthy portion of insanity and incredulity.
She: Why are you here?
Me: You read about it. Some deity dropped…
She: No, I mean here in my flat?
Me: I need a place to stay and it’s fucking cold outside.
She: But why my flat?
Me: I’ve been following you…
She: Well now, that makes it all okay then. ARE YOU MAD?
So, fear obviously had lost the battle. Shame. Looking forward to the insanity bits though. Also on the plus side: I moved in.
It is pretty cold here in kraut-land which might explain why the kraut-humans all look so very grim most of the time. It also explains why they imbibe copious quantities of alcohol at a place they call the “Weihnachtsmarkt”, something that has to do with christmas but the guy with the cross and the nails is nowhere around, I think.
The cold weather also has a terrible effect on my jewels. I’ll spare you the details (how far has it come already that I even consider sparing you any gory stuff), but my family heirloom resembles some shriveling plums more than anything else. Bloody cold is to blame.
Also it makes finding permanent accomodations a lot more urgent. The she-human I picked has no idea yet that I am her current flatmate. Fortunately she leaves the house rather early in the morning so I can sneak in and sleep most of the morning. I decided that keeping quiet about it for a while is probably more wise considering what happened in London. Humans are rather unforgiving when their natural habits get disturbed. Not that I would care about that under normal circumstances but that is exactly the problem: the circumstances are far from being normal and it is not even remotely forseeable when it will ever get better. For me, that is. For she-human of my choise it will get worse from now on. Hehe. Awww, no, come on. I can be nice. No, really! I can. Okay, I hardly ever am, but then I’m an orc, it is my natural behaviour to cause chaos and mayhem. If I were to sit quitely in a corner, knitting socks and discussing the weather, I suppose a visit to a psychiatrist would be in order. Oh, hang on, I did mention the weather. A crisis is imminent. Will raid one of those “Gluehweinbuden” to feel better. Just in case you don’t know, they’re selling hot wine with tasty spices. Definitely something that should exist in every orcish society.
Prost, as the kraut-humans say. (I think they’re called germans, but who cares, actually?)