[PRP] Cafe Rumble (Kursha + Stryke)

[leon_a_darkangel]

Where: Near the edge of Chittentown in the coffee shop Hole in the Wall.

When: Roughly an hour before the shops closing time.

 

[leon_a_darkangel]

With each passing day life at the coffee shop seemed to pass by without much event, or dramatic passing. Stryke kept to himself mostly, unless he was needed by the remaining rebel forces. While not the grand adventure of a life time, the next big thing as it always had would fine him...or he it depending on the timing.

Inside the coffee shop, the patrons would come and go as usual, and with it being near closing time the numbers had thinned out. While dawn was still many hours away, it was always a good thing to be conscious of as he saw it. Leaning on a broom heavily looking out across the shop he wore a half smile as he pondered over what needed to be done next.

Stryke's gaze flickered around the quaint little shop doing a head count, there was only two customers left, a shifty looking redblood whom seemed nervous and an orangeblood who was laughing at their companion. From the sounds of it they planned to leave soon, and very well might spell the end of the nights shift and an earlier return back to his hive. Either way, he went back to what he was doing mindful of the entrance just in case they got any last moment stragglers.

Katanari

 

[Green Minuet]

[+] Kursha Vidari

The calm of the evening was broken by the sound of two sharp reports, like fireworks going off. Though an unusual noise against the droning hum of Chittentown populace, they were distant enough that no one gave them much consideration. Besides, they did not repeat. At the fringe of Chittentown, all was quiet once more.

Several minutes later there were three more bangs, this time much closer. Gunfire. Following the shots came a chorus of screams. A angry voice shouted out over them. There was a crashing noise, and the splintering of wood. Several thuds immediately followed. Voices continued to babble. Another shot, and another wave of panic. Somewhere, glass shattered. Then, the bell over the door to the café let out a merry jingle.

A tall greenblood bearing a rifle shot inside, ignoring the case of newspapers he had spilled with his entrance. “'Scuse me!” he said in the direction of the barista sweeping the floor. Kicking over a table, the greenblood glanced back towards the two patrons. “Thinkpans down, everyone!” he barked, before ducking behind his makeshift shelter. Positioning his rifle against the edge of the table so it faced the door, he peeped over. Nothing yet. They would not be long though.

Kursha turned his attention to the café's interior, searching for something he could use. As he browsed the various instruments sitting behind the counter, his gaze caught on the barista still holding the broom. His eyes widened. Recognition flooded his face. For a moment, he looked almost horrified. Then suddenly the expression was gone, replaced by a confident grin. Raising a finger to his lips, Kursha winked at the yellowblood. “Shhh.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but the message was clear.

leon_a_darkangel

 

[leon_a_darkangel]

Stryke had been startled by the sound of gunfire, but was content to not put himself in line to investigate; that was, until it was suddenly quiet literally at his door step. The bell door was normally not a problem, and, as he looked up to inform the new patron that closing time…Until he heard the sound of rustling papers, watching a few land wherever they pleased. He made a frustrated sound, narrowing his eyes and making a sound akin to clearing his throat, the other was already yelling about getting down. Had this troll brought the fray directly into the bar? Leaning on his broom, the yellowblood pursed his lips upon realization to whom the identity of this troll was. Time stood still, and for a short duration all he could do was blink in disbelief.

Kursha. Of all the trolls to encounter, it had to be him. Part of him wanted to turn and walk into the back and pretend like he hadn’t seen him, but that would have been a real wiggler shitstain thing to do. Shifting his weight to one booted foot to the next, he decided very quickly there was no ignoring the matter at hand.

While their fight in the alley had come and gone, he still remembered. The mixed reaction on the others face mirrored how he felt as he made a small 'tsk' sound at his wink, and gradually arms crossing over his chest as he was shhh’d. Just because he was around didn’t mean he had to speak to him more than was necessary. Setting his broom down, he crouched down beside the other, having to adjust the apron he wore as he scoffed at him. “and what, dare i asssk, are you even doing here?” He whispered back, in a clipped, rather defensive hushed tone. He glared at the other pointedly, putting a decent amount of space between them as he peered around the makeshift shield nervously. Stryke couldn’t help but wonder what, or rather whom would have Kursha running into a building blindly, aiming a gun no less at the front door of a tiny café at the edge of town.

Gesturing that there was no one there from his vantage point, he quickly moved back behind the shield. Checking for his knives and swearing, he remembered they were in his jacket in the closet. Frowning, he debated on going to grab them now, or wait for a better moment. Logically there had to be someone on the other side of the hunt. This had to be some kind of joke, or sick twist of fate. Either way, and regardless of his choices Stryke was far from pleased.

The two trolls that had been nearly ready to leave looked panicked at the sight of the greenblood and his gun and the sudden flurry of movement and action. The red and orangeblooded troll were quick to take cover cowering in a corner. Both wanted more than to bolt out the front door but were reluctant to move and instead moved out of sight.

Katanari.

 

[Green Minuet]

[+] Kursha Vidari

As Stryke stooped down beside him, Kursha scooted over to make room. He studied the yellowblood. Stryke had grown since he had last seen him. He was a taller than Kursha remembered and had lost all of his wiggler fat. The most striking difference though, was in how he carried himself. Kursha had a hard time believing that this was the same kid who ran away from him, crying all those months ago. There was a bit of steel to him now. Kursha's grin widened.

“Doing my job, duh,” he replied, temporarily withdrawing his weapon. Stretching out his legs, he reached into his pocket and pulled out five cartridges. One by one, he fit them into the gun's revolving chamber. His fingers moved with practised dexterity. “'What are you doing here though?” He asked as he locked the mechanism back into place. “'I thought most places wouldn't hire minors.”

Stryke was taller but not that much taller.

leon_a_darkangel

I just wanted to get in a little bit of dialogue before heating things up. Woop!

 

[leon_a_darkangel]

"i work here, what does it look like?" Stryke's brows raised at the others comment about his age. "at least enough to pick up several shifts during the week..i'm not that young." He replied rolling his eyes, shrugging his shoulders dismissively. There was a stubborn set to his jaw as he purposely looked away from Kursha irritated by that wide grin on his face.

Deciding now was a good time he muttered he'd be right back. Quickly, Stryke went to retrieve his daggers and returned to the small shelter they currently shared. Stryke's eyes moved from the weapons he now held firmly in his grasp to the other troll. Kursha was much the same as he remembered him. He wasn't as ridiculously tall after he'd dealt with his growing pains and gradual height change...and unfortunately the greenblood was still taller than him by a fair amount without making an accurate comparison.

Pursing his lips, he regarded the other with a neutral blank look. Stryke leaned on one of his bent knees before narrowing his eyes on Kursha slightly. "you didn't anssswer my question. what, exactly has your job doing here...under the present pretenses.” As the teen spoke, he moved his hands gesturing to the table and namely his rifle as he spoke, then at last to the chaos that had ensued in the others wake upon entering the building. When he was done with his initial quippy remark, the yellowblood narrowed his eyes on him.

As he spoke further his tone lost its sense of humor, added with a quick shake of his head. “given sssomehow i doubt this is a social call. so, what gives." Stryke added in a snide, cynical tone, demanding rather than asking. Until he had a better foothold on the situation, he went quiet. To say his reception of the other was favorable was more akin to a blatant lie.

Katanari.

no worries sounds good owo/

 

[Green Minuet]

[+] Kursha Vidari

“Hey, wait!” Kursha reached towards Stryke as he stood. “You idiot! Get down!” he hissed. It was too late though. The yellowblood had already slipped around the counter. Sulking, Kursha turned his attention away from Stryke and listened. Aside from the whimpering lowbloods, there was nothing. Cautious, he peered over the top of the table.

No more than a couple seconds later, Stryke had slipped in beside him, carrying a pair of daggers. Kursha had half a mind to say something about the pathetic weaponry but the present circumstances dictated that a lesser priority. “You should have stayed back behind counter,” he hissed again, talking over the yellowblood. “There's better cover there, and...” He sneaked another glance over the table. As he did the front window of the café exploded. Across from Kursha and Stryke, a hot bolt of metal suddenly appeared quivering from the wall.

Kursha slumped low behind the table, hooting a nervous sigh. Two inches lower and that would have struck his head. “Well damn.” He glanced over at Stryke. “You any good with those toothpicks of yours?”

leon_a_darkangel

Bwarp.

 

[leon_a_darkangel]

Stryke knew it was dangerous, but so was being unarmed and using nothing but his fists. In fact that sounded so terrible he’d been willing to make the journey. He’d been surprised when Kursha had hissed at him and spoke over him. It was rude, and typical of the brash troll. "gog. you haven't changed one bit ssso it seems." Stryke added, shaking his head as he looked away from him. The yellowblood’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly on the greenblood in warning. Kursha had better not make a habit of bossing him around, Stryke was still angry with the other and had not yet forgiven the other.. Huffing at him crossly he shook his head. “i couldn’t jussst go into a fight unarmed..besides i'm fine.” He hissed in reply quietly, giving him a blank look that conveyed annoyance at being told he should have stayed.

Admittedly Stryke was thrown off by his last comment. How good was he with his weapons? Stryke paused before considering his answer. “what? Uh..I’m okay with them sort of..?” Stryke half meant it, it was a lie to go so far as to say he had any real skill with them anyway. As he considered Kursha's comment, the sound of chaos startled the lowblood. Stryke barely managed to contain his yelp of surprise when the explosions happened. The sound of exploding glass had Stryke cover his spongeclots, and squeeze his eyes shut tightly. Taking in a few short breathes to calm his-self. When he finally creaked open a grey eye, the troll did a quick survey of his surroundings, checking to see if Kursha was fine then promptly went back to his previous cold shoulder treatment.

With his composure mostly in tack despite the danger, Stryke found himself feeling sour. Staring pointedly at Kursha he lightly jabbed a finger at his bare shoulder. “now..what dare i asssk did you do to warrant thisss merry occasion…?” He added in a low whisper, clearly in dismay. He’d just been ready to close up the place for the morning, and now he was brushing glass off himself, and faced with a potentially deadly situation. They were like sitting ducks in the middle of the café. Gesturing with his index finger for him to try and slide the table as they stayed behind it, he gripped his daggers tightly feeling entirely unprepared for the upcoming situation at hand.

Swallowing nervously, he prepared himself for the fact that his time might end here. With any luck they’d make it out alive, but his levels of optimism outweighed his skeptical outlook. It beat the hell out of being a whimpering coward anyway. “you’d better have some bright idea, or a plan by the way.” Stryke added sarcastically after a moment or two, sounding demanding almost.

Katanari

Kawwww kawww -flies away-

 

[Green Minuet]

[+] Kursha Vidari

Kursha clicked his tongue against his the roof of his mouth. “Great,” he muttered in response to Stryke. The yellowblood might have gotten older, but it looked like he still needed to have his hand held. Just what Kursha needed; some useless wiggler to look after. He rolled his eyes. No thanks.

Just then Kursha heard the sound of glass crunching underfoot. He envisioned a broad shouldered yellowblood, and a wiry orangeblood. A second later, their voices confirmed his suspicions. “Clear out,” a husky voice said. The found of scampering feet followed; the patrons making their exit. Heavy boots thudded against the floorboards. Kursha sunk lower against the back of the table, grip tight around the stock of the rifle.

“My job, like I said,” he responded, voice a low hiss. “Usually civilians don't get involved.” He gave Stryke a pointed and vaguely accusing look. Clearly this was all his fault. After a moment, he let his breath out in a silent sigh. “Okay, look. I'll distract them, and you make a break for it, all right?”

leon_a_darkangel

I don't remember what I was doing with this RP.

 

[leon_a_darkangel]

Stryke gave the other a quizzical look as he explained himself. "civilian..? yeah okay, sssure.." He wrinkled his nose in disdain, as his voice trailed off. He hardly considered himself that and was not exactly sure what Kursha even meant by that. Whatever the other planned, it irk'd Stryke that the greenblood expected him to just run off like he hadn't seen anything. He'd be cleaning the glass mess from the shattered cafe windows for hours as it was. Nor did he intend to abandon the other to fend for himself.

Giving the other a less than friendly look he huffed at him dismissively.

His attention turned when the voice called out for everyone to clear out. He didn't have a gun, a knife would only get him so far in this situation. "whatever we'll get out of thisss. together. come on, don't look so damn annoyed." He muttered, rolling his eyes at Kursha.

Shifting his weight he pursed his lips in consideration. "no, look. there's a back door. if we can make it behind the counter..we can go out the back into the alley and not even confront whoevers talking out there." Already moving, he crawled away from the other keeping low to the ground as he moved away from Kursha, glancing back only briefly as he pressed against the bar counter to see if the coast was still clear. It had been risky moving, but Stryke was still calm under pressure. His fighting skills might not have been up to par, but his tact and resourcefulness and knowledge of the layout of the building could but put to good use.

In truth, Stryke was feeling particularly stubborn and wanted to prove a point. He didn't want to be seen as completely useless, which was in part what kept him focused on the situation at hand.

Green Minuet

 

[Green Minuet]

[+] Kursha Vidari

Biting his tongue, Kursha swallowed a retort. He could hear the the sound of heavy footsteps getting closer. He peered out from behind the table just far enough to see an approaching shadow. Internally he cursed. There was no time to argue; it was do or die... or use the adorable yellowblood next to him as a meatshield and take out the bounty, but that was not really his style. Besides, he might be fined for property damage.

As he turned to not in agreement to Stryke, he saw that the yellowblood had already begun crawling across the floor to the counter. Kursha opened his mouth to protest, but he had no sooner done so then he heard a hiss from the crossbow. It happened too fast for him to follow. One minute, the yellowblood was on his belly, and the next he had disappeared behind the counter. The bolt was no where in sight.

Kursha felt the familiar warmth of budding rage. He pressed his back against the table, taking a few quick breaths. Now was not the time to ******** up and let his emotions get the better of him. He needed to remain calm. Forcing down the impulse to let loose with gunfire, he examined his surroundings. Suddenly a grin spread across his face.

“Hey assholes!” he called. “Hope you like your coffee extra hot!” He gave his opponents no time to retaliate or wonder. There was a crack from the rifle as he fired... right into one of the drip machines. Scalding liquid exploded over the cafe. Keeping low to the ground, Kursha hurried behind the counter to where Stryke had disappeared.

“C'mon! Shake a leg, let's go!”

leon_a_darkangel

I HAD AN IDEA! Also, it's up to you whether Stryke was hit or not! Figured I'd up the stakes. (:<

 

[leon_a_darkangel]

Now wasn't the time for talking, they had to do something before things got out of hand. Stryke had more he could have said, but time was not on either trolls side.

Stryke felt his bloodpusher race the longer the situation dragged itself out. He was scared, but now was definitely not the time to be a coward and clam up. He just wanted the two of them to get the ******** out before they were outmanned and gunned down. He'd been quick to suggest an escape route that would keep them both safe, as the idea of going out in a blaze of glory was not in the yellowbloods list of things he was interested in engaging in. As the smaller troll crawled away, he sucked in a sharp breathe as he felt an arrows bolt cut into his flesh. His right arm blossomed with the sharp sensation of pain, the sleeve of his grey button down easily tore open from the impact.

While he hadn't been impaled, the cut flesh still oozed his citrine colored blood onto the bar floor below. "ah-h! ssshit.." Just when he'd thought he timed his exit properly. Stryke's hand went to the cut on his forearm, and came away with blood on his fingertips. He swallowed as his grey skin paled slightly as he gulped. That could have been fatal if he'd been unlucky. Cringing he bit his lip, trying to keep from screaming in surprise from the sudden discomfort. Instead he sucked in a sharp breath, ignoring the stinging as he pressed his back against the bar counter. Fear made the lowblood uneasy, but he heard Kursha's voice rise in the silence following the next few passing moments. It was peculiar to hear him talking about the bars coffee like that before the sounds of the machines being shot at rang out. Covering his ears he closed his eyes for a moment as he tried to calm his wildly beating bloodpusher.

As more time seemed to slowly tick by, he felt his fears bubble and rise in his chest. Was he coming? Stryke was about to lean around the counter to look for the very troll in question. Instead, he came then, telling him to get going. A small relieved escape of breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding followed. "come on!" He pressed a finger to his lips. Keeping low, Stryke nodded his head in the direction they'd be going. Without another word, Stryke moved towards the kitchen's prep-station. It lead them into the back, and out a door into the mentioned alleyway as promised. Stryke didn't look back as he round the corner, down another few alleyways before finally stopping, out of breathe and leaning over his knees.

"i think..we're fine for now..? hey, you ok?" He looked up then, quickly hiding the cut he'd sustained by pulling down at his shirt sleeve. Standing up,Stryke glanced at Kursha before pursing his lips slightly. Ignoring his injury the yellowblood instead looked the other over, as if deciding what to make of the situation.
*Roll to see what got grazed 1-2: arm, 3-4: leg

Green Minuet.

:3c

 

[Green Minuet]

[+] Kursha Vidari

Kursha hurried after the yellowblood, keeping his rifle at the ready and his body low to the ground. With the chaos ensuing behind him, he need not have worried. Judging by the screams, his opponents were well and truly distracted. Despite himself, Kursha grinned. As they fled through the kitchen he swept the barrel of the rifle over the counter, knocking over a stack of pots and pans. Anything to impede his pursuers.

They burst out into the alleyway, hot desert air breaking over Kursha's face. He sucked in a deep breath. Freedom. For a moment there, things had looked like they might get a bit hairy, especially with the yellowblood's involvement. How unlucky was that? It could have been unluckier, he supposed. At least Stryke had aided his escape, instead of standing in the way of it. Taking on two trolls was tricky enough; three would have presented a serious problem, no matter how incompetent they were.

Without wasting another second, Kursha tore after Stryke and rounded the corner of the alley. As he did, he heard a faint hiss. At almost the same time his side flared. His foot slipped and he missed a step, almost tripping. Baring his teeth, Kursha righted himself and continued after the yellowblood, whose feet barely touched the ground. Kursha had to give him credit. Despite those short legs of his, the yellowblood could really move. It must have been from all that practise he got running away.

Several twists and turns later, Stryke came to a stop, panting. Kursha took a moment to rest as well—and more importantly to listen. Just under the sounds of Stryke's heavy breathing, he could make out voices not far behind. No good. His hand went to his side. Even with the bolt in he still left enough of a trail for them to follow. His mouth twisted.

“We've gotta keep moving,” he interrupted, angling himself away from the yellowblood. “Any bright ideas, Double O? Stalling tactics maybe?”

leon_a_darkangel

Badum!

 

[leon_a_darkangel]

The clatter of pots and pans still range in his sponge clots as he ran, not looking back as he trusted the other to follow him. What choice did either troll really have? Stryke had the home field advantage, and intended to make good use out of it. His daggers were still close at hand, he’d go down fighting to help protect them both if that’s what it took. The reprieve of stopping was enough for him to catch his breath. While winded, his eyes went wide unexpectedly. Stryke hadn’t expected the old nickname. It brought back memories, like a tidal waves rush. It seemed like only yesterday they’d met under rather strange circumstances. It brought a genuinely happy smile to the yellowblood’s face. Even with the danger going on, that sense of those days he’d thought gone proved very much alive and well in that exact moment.

Just like that, the fleeting moment of happiness he felt was torn as he realized how dire their situation was.

Anger burned then in his veins as he looked up, glancing back the way they came at the sound of voices approaching. He saw familiar green droplets on the ground. “kursha..?” Stryke started to ask. Horrified he felt his eyes brim with tears, not sure what the damage even was. no. stay focused nvrmor. They could tend to any wounds later; his house had plenty of herbs and material to dress with properly.

His expression was serious as he looked back the way they had come, then to Kursha who had angled himself away from him. “heh..i do sssay my good Detective; we have ourselves one fine asss mess on our hands!” Even as he spoke, it was obvious Stryke had an idea.

It showed as he pointed, just a few feet ahead of them to the old Abandoned Fluid Station #182301. It had been replaced with another larger facility, several blocks away. This one had fallen into disrepair. Hardly anyone ever used the thing, not with cracked pipes further back inside the station from the mess of the summer previous. Not to mention the smell of the plant life decaying inside the pipes.

The yellowblood reached out for Kursha's hand, yanking at his wrist for him to hurry. Without delay he ran them across the way. There was an old pump nearby, and if he remembered right it still worked. maybe. He aggressively began trying to turn the nozzle onto FULL blast as he grabbed for the hose. " ********, it won't budge!" He growled aiming the nozzles direction towards the alley way looking at the other with a desperate sort of 'Do Something' look in his eyes. The dry sands of the town would also mean mud. perfect. “one street over is market square. my hive isn't far from there. we can ditch them..if this works.” He spoke still looking a bit frantic as this stupid thing just wouldn't turn.

Green Minuet

Bwarp

 

[Green Minuet]

[+] Kursha Vidari

Kursha let out an audible groan as Stryke referred to him by his old nickname. Where did he get off, being so informal with him? They were little more than old acquaintances, and they were definitely not friends. Still, the yellowblood seemed to have an idea so Kursha let it slide.

Following where Stryke pointed, Kursha gave a blank stare: a condemned building. Was that all Stryke could really think of? A place to hide? He looked back at the yellowblood, nose wrinkling with contempt. “I don't...”

No sooner had he started speaking than Stryke grabbed his wrist and took off running again. Kursha followed after him, wincing at the spasms of pain in his side, but did not cry out or slow down. As they reached the building, Stryke veered off to the side. They came to a quick stop around another corner. Releasing Kursha, Stryke grabbed ahold of an old hose. He then began to pry at a rusted over nozzle.

“Move over, jackass,” Kursha snapped. He raised the rifle, intent clear. A second later, there was a flash and the clap of gunfire.

leon_a_darkangel