Pig Orcs

Abbas expected the stares. He knew what he’d signed up for, applying for an internship at the IPA department. A 99% human filled department, one of the least diverse in the entire company - besides legal; the underfolk thrived in that one. He expected a little antagonism from his peers; humans weren’t the most accepting of other species, especially towards the goblinoids.

So when he met his first human upon leaving his homeworld for the first time, he was only slightly surprised by the negative reaction. They’d met on the hovertrain that led from the Porting Isles - an island of portals that led to various worlds and realms - to the mainland. Abbas had saved up enough money to get a ticket for a decent car - one that wouldn’t be overcrowded with other interns, at least.

He was small for a pig orc but at 7’3 and 340 pounds, he wouldn’t fit comfortably in any car, regardless of the space available. Even so, he wanted to limit any negative interaction he’d have with his fellow interns, so he paid out-of-pocket for a fancy car with fewer people.

He’d entered an empty car with padded benches, a space for luggage, and a candy bowl drifting in circles. At the time, he’d been ecstatic. Comfortable seating and chocolate in a magical bowl? Sign him up! He’d just been getting settled - his old suitcase in the compartment under the bench - when the door to his car opened and a male human strode in with his butler.

Abbas didn’t know much about human culture - and there was a lot, especially with the thirty-three different Earths - but he could tell that this one was the son of somebody important. Maybe not a king but at least a high-ranking noble. A talented enchantress had embroidered runes into the fabric of the black suit and tie he wore; Abbas couldn’t read them but he bet they made the thing more comfortable to wear. He’d worn suits before - old ones, passed down from when his older brothers were kids - and they were so tight! The watch on the human’s skinny white wrist also looked expensive; mana quartz embedded around the case glimmered in the sunlight shining through the window.

First impressions are important, he thought, rising from the bench. “Hi,” he said, blushing bright red at the crack in his voice. Sticking out a sweaty, shaking hand, he stuttered, “I-I’m Ab-Abbas.”

Way to go, dorktusk! You sounded like an idiot!

It needn’t have mattered whether he stuttered or not, though, because the human looked at the hand in disgust. “Alfonso,” he said, in a clipped, posh accent Abbas couldn’t place, “what is this thing doing in my car?”

The butler, in his own three-piece black suit, glared at the pig orc from behind Samuel. “I was unaware security was this lax, Mr. Samuel. Shall I remove it myself?”

Abbas paled. “W-what? N-no, I bought a ticket for this car!” He dug around in his pants pocket, his thick fingers searching for the ticket in the mess of bits and bobs he kept in them. “I-it’s right here; you don’t have to call se-”

“Nevermind!” Samuel snapped. “I don’t want this car anyway; it’s tainted with its filth. Let’s go!”

The two left without another word, Alfonso slamming the car door behind him. Abbas sighed and flopped back down on the bench. Hopefully, he thought, that’s the last of them.

After that traumatizing event, he’d had no issues getting off the train and managed to squeeze into a magicab that took him to the IPMC campus. He had to put his suitcase on his lap since the trunk was broken, but he managed. Having memorized the map, he made his way straight to the dormitories. The lady at the desk did a doubletake when she saw him and nearly called security before he explained what he was doing here.

“I’m an intern at the IPA department,” he said, showing her the ID he’d gotten at the orientation. She hesitantly took it. “Um, I’m looking for my room. It should be a single room?”

He’d requested a single so he didn’t have to deal with a roommate. He couldn’t imagine what it’d be like living with another person that wasn’t accustomed to orcish behavior.

The lady at the desk grimaced when she saw the unflattering ID picture. “Right,” she mumbled, passing him back his ID. “Your room is D64. Take the shoot labeled ‘D Section’. You can, um, scan your ID on the lock and the door will open.”

“Thank you, miss,” he said, flashing her a shy smile. She shuddered and turned away.

Flushing, he quickly walked to the specified tube and let himself be whisked up and away. He didn’t enjoy the ride; travel tubes always made him nauseous. Luckily, he’d had enough experiences with them that he didn’t vomit when he exited the tube but he did have to take a breather before he went to his room.

The chatting interns standing around quieted down when he passed them, their cheerful conversations turning into hushed, speculative whispers. He tried to ignore them but his ears caught every word they said.

“Can you believe they hired an orc for the IPA…?”

“Are they really that desperate for new interns?”

“I bet he won’t last a week!”

“Shoot, man, he’ll probably eat his first IP.”

“This company is SO going down the drain.”

He quickened his pace, trying and failing to push down the lump in his throat. Blurry eyes darted back and forth, barely able to make out the numbers on the nameplates. Finally, he reached D64. The wooden door had no knob; only the nameplate and a scanner adorned it. He pressed his ID against the scanner, his arms trembling. It didn’t scan. He tried again, harder this time.

“Oh, crap, is he about to rage or something?”

“We better get out of here.”

“Good goddess, why would they let an orc in here?”

He held back the tears, refusing to cry until he was in the safety of his own dorm. The scanner finally recognized his ID and the door slid open.

Abbas rushed in and the door swooshed shut. Then he let it all out. Dropping his suitcase on the floor before collapsing to his knees, he sobbed as quietly as he could.

He expected this. He should’ve known what he signed up for. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.