Night. Stars above. A field of summer corn, not yet 'high as an elephant's eye'. Laying on his back among the large stalks, staring up at the sky, Taavit chews lazily on a stem of wheat; arms tucked behind his head, left foot set upon his right knee, which is in turn bent, foot on ground. The cool feel of the ground beneath his feet is a comfort. The dark overhead a blessing. To see the stars overhead helps him ground himself a bit.

It has been a *very* confusing week.

With a swish of his tail's tuft, he shifts the grass stem to the other side of his pointed teeth, and takes a breath. He lets it out slowly, and then, sits up so he can reach down to his hip, and flick on the MP3 player, sliding an earbud into one ear so he can keep semi-attune to the world around him as he thinks.

"That door. Sure was something different about that," He muses to himself aloud; talking to himself is a good way for him to practice speaking human; like setting a rubber duck before a scientist or programmer after giving them a particularly hard problem to solve. "Don't think I've ever seen anything like it, and I've gone to the big city with Papa before," He murmurs. The small troll considers this strange place he's found. Through a door, from his quiet hillock home and the forest around it; out of the rain and into a world of green in the blue.

And oh, what a world. What a wonderful wonderful world.

So far, he'd just been wandering. The wandering had lead to pleasant discoveries, of course! Like this wonderful thick field of corn; which smelled sweet even without being fully grown. There had been other things, too, though. He'd peeked into other doorways, seen words that boggled his mind with their iron and glass, and places that made him feel superior at a vague glance just to have even a proper pair of trousers. (Watching humans chase mammoths had seemed... strange, until he realized that this world was just another place of possibility.)

He crunches on the stalk of grass in his teeth with a sudden grin to himself. Yeah. Yeah, this great, wide world of possibilities felt like a million pieces of leprechaun's gold in his hands. Or even better, 25G on his MP3 player and the world wide web full of human music at his fingertips. Suddenly he wonders if he could find some way to get his hands on a nice deck and some vinyl. It *might* fit in his backpack. At least a better set of speakers for his MP3 Dock. Yeah. Yeah, and then find him a nice club to play.

DJ Troldork would rise from the depths of the internet, and become *real*.

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Had to have high high hopes for a living,
Shooting for the stars when I couldn't make a killing
Didn't have a dime but I always had a vision
Always had high high hopes.

Had to have high high hopes for a living,
Didn't know how but I always had a feeling,
I was gonna be that one in a million
Always had high high hopes.
- High Hopes, Panic! At the Disco