[PRP] Cafe Rumble (Kursha + Stryke)

[leon_a_darkangel]

Gunfire.

It always made Stryke nervous, just like before he cringed when the sound went off. The sudden bang, rang in his sponge clots.Hell it had stole away his breath. The ringing wouldn't stop, but the results were what his injured arm he'd tried to turn the rusted nozzle with could not do. The head of the faucet broke under the sheer force. The hose he was holding expanded, filling with water. At first it was mere trickle, which gave Stryke's pump biscuit cause to flutter wildly. However the force of the water came rushing, erupting a well aimed jet towards the back alley. The sands of the desert churned, and became slushy as water sloshed and rushed.

Certainly Chittentown didn't need any more water being wasted but the drones would be along soon enough to fix the situation, surely. Smirking just a little he tugged on the hose, propping it up to continue its intended obstacle course-effect. Once he had positioned the hose, he turned to Kursha. "there. good enough for now. come on, thisss way! we don't have much time." Stryke took them from the Fluid Station, heading north bound further into Chittentown.The voices hadn't been far off before they departed, they'd soon be wading in sand, mud and a high powered spray of water. He almost pitied the poor drone that would have to clean up the mess of the afternoon.

Once he felt it was safe, he guided them past market square..feeling like he was slinking around more than anything. Constantly checking over his shoulder, Stryke kept them from the majority of crowds before he fished out keys from his pocket, belonging to his hive. His pace had slowed down considerable as he got further into this section of town, only because all the running had left him winded. He certainly got around better than when he was a small chubby child, but that'd mean it was his favorite way to spend a night after work.

Standing at the hive on lot #61220001 the troll quickly opened the door, ushering him down the small flight of stairs into the den-like underground Hive. While it wasn't enormous, it was meticulously kept...aside from the clutter. Stryke had a lot of knick knacks and things lining his shelves, and hanging on his walls. It was all arranged nicely, and his books lined the shelves in excess. Stryke tugged off his jacket, realizing this one would have to be tossed, like the bloodied shirt he had on at the arm and the enormous gash in the fabric to match.

"do you need anything. i thought..i sssaw green earlier?" Stryke was already walking to a counter in his living room, grabbing a fairly large medical kit out. Carefully moving an ornate vase off his table, he intended to use as a work space.

Just the same, Stryke strained his sponge clots, listening encase anyone came knocking. He could only hope the diversion had done it's intended job.

Green Minuet

hope this was okay owo/

 

[Green Minuet]

[+] Kursha Vidari

“And I thought I saw a stupid pissblood getting in my way earlier,” Kursha retaliated. After pausing at the door, he had joined Stryke in descending down the steps. He stopped at the bottom of the flight however, as the yellowblood headed deeper within the hive.

Once he had disappeared, Kursha braced himself. He took a deep breath and grasped the end of the bolt. Mentally, he counted to three. Then with a quick yank, he tugged the shaft out from his side. His eyes burned. A whimper clawed its way out of his throat. Dropping the bloody bolt to the floor, he leaned against the wall.

leon_a_darkangel

 

[leon_a_darkangel]

Stryke cringed slightly at the others calling him a pissblood. The yellowwblood couldn't help but feel like the other was intentionally being confrontational. Why was he even surprised? Sighing softly he exhaled slowly as he pulled out bandages, and clean gauze.

Tsking slightly he shook his head in dismay at how the events had unfolded this evening.

Turning to look back in the direction Kursha was in, he heard the other make an awful pained sound. His pump biscuit felt tight in his chest as he looked to the green stained bolt on his floor. Rushing to his side, features pale with concern, Stryke applied pressure against the wound. "come, sit pleassse." Stryke spoke softly, a gentle note to his tone despite the others previous harsh comments and treatment.

Stryke's brows furrowed, frowning at the fact he had to get this close and personal. With the amount of blood however Stryke pushed aside his hesitation in favor of assisting the other.

The yellowblood moved one of his chairs by the table; lifting the thick, soft, clean pad he began to apply firm pressure directly on the bleeding. He kept the pressure on, not wanting to remove it and cause the bleeding to start anew. At least it had been a bolt, and not an arrowhead. That would shatter off into fragments. "if you can ssstomach tea..i'll make you a blend for pain." He murmured softly, keeping pressure on the taller troll’s wounds.

Green Minuet.

 

[Green Minuet]

[+] Kursha Vidari

Even with his brain addled by pain, Kursha struggled to think of some smart retort. A second later though and the yellowblood was at his side, ushering him towards a chair. His chance lost, Kursha remained silent and went to sit where Stryke pulled out a chair. He settled down, stretching out his legs, and tried not to move.

No sooner had he sat down then Stryke swept in with a cloth for the wound. Kursha grit his teeth and breathed out harshly through his nose. His fingernails dug into the sides of the chair. “I deal with this all the time,” he said at last through the pain. “I can take care of it myself. Just go... read a book or something.”

leon_a_darkangel

 

[leon_a_darkangel]

Stryke's attention went from the others injury to looking at Kursha with a strange, almost less than friendly half stare hearing his words. "somehow i believe that.." He tsk'd at him without meaning to, why was he surprised. The other troll had natural talent for being in the thick of danger.

In fact if Stryke didn't know any better, he'd say the greenblood lived off the adrenaline.

Stepping back from him, the yellowblood shook his head as he went into the kitchen anyway despite the other telling him to go just go read a book. "i can do that later...i'm going to help you whether you like it or not." Stryke replied, in a somewhat dismissive tone as he turned the stove on to boil water.

Once that was attended to, Stryke went into his pantry to retrieve a few things. Wincing he opened and closed a fist, testing the feeling by touching each finger to his thumb. It sent a burning pain up his elbow and into his shoulder. Sighing, he first went for the birch leaves, and twigs to be removed after steeping them. He'd had to go out of his way to acquire some of the things in here, as Chittentown was not known for its trees. Keeping a small stash of different plants and herbs meant he usually was prepared. Growing up as a child of the rebellion, Stryke had learned long ago to come prepared. The leaves, along with Linden was carefully selected for pain relief, along with berries to help make the brew not nearly as bitter. With the beverage was prepared, he brought him a cup.

Carefully, Stryke placed it down beside him as if he wasn't as sure with the arm he was using. It was obvious enough he was favoring his dominant left side.

Without a word, Stryke moved past Kursha to go sit in his living room after flipping on his television. Although the volume was intentionally lowered slightly. "it'll be morning soon...you can ussse my coon i'm not tired." He offered as he settled down, taking a look for the first time at the damage to his arm as he winced. Sipping on his own cup of the same brew he'd made he gently dabbed at the yellow stain over the wound on his arm with an absent minded expression on Stryke's usually stern features.

Green Minuet

 

[Green Minuet]

[+] Kursha Vidari

“Oh?” Kursha grinned through the pain and arched his eyebrows, surprised at the yellowblood's show of a spine. Last he had seen of Stryke, the yellowblood had been a pathetic, snivelling, and cowardly excuse for a troll. Then again, back then he had been little more than a wiggler, fresh from the cocoon. The troll before him now (or rather behind him, as Stryke disappeared into the pantry) he felt no shame in claiming a certain level of kinship. They were hatched from the same mother grub after all.

Kursha watched with a guarded expression as Stryke padded back into the rumpus block and set down a cup of tea beside him. He sniffed at it, as though checking for poison. After a moment he made a face, and returned his gaze to Stryke. The yellowblood was busy inspecting his own injury, dabbing at it with a cloth. Kursha watched for a moment.

“You know if you'd just listened to me, that never would have happened.” He said dryly. “You got any more towels, or am I gonna have to get them myself?”

leon_a_darkangel

 

[leon_a_darkangel]

Stryke had noticed the grin the other flashed. While he hadn't said a word he did give the other a vaguely cross look that told him he wasn't amused. Both of them were in pain, largely because the other had decided to undertake a dangerous job solo. Who'd have guessed his own cafe he'd been working for some time to help keep his cover would be the wrecking ball site for Kursha's job.

Although there was little use crying over spilt moobeast juice. Stryke had learned long ago where matters concerned Kursha to not take it personally or too offensively or else it lead to confusion and long awkward periods of silence. He was fickle and guarded as anyone in their right mind should be. Although that was all an observation, he knew there was more to it than that. It was why he'd tried so hard where the other was concerned for so long in time passed.

"oh please. it's not even that bad, and we both ate s**t..it was messy. however, i did mostly listen to you." He frowned, lying about the discomfort associated with the blunder. "but we made it." Stryke's ghost of a smile pulled at his lips as he shook his head slightly in bewilderment.

As he tried to inspect his injury, Stryke stopped mid motion to look at him across from his rumpus block. His request made him frown as if he was thinking. "yesss? here. hold on." He offered, not wanting to make him go get them. Getting up with some amount of reluctancy and effort Ryk shuffled to a small linen closet near the ablution-trap block. Walking the towels too him, Stryke offered them out to the other with a questioning look as to why he'd asked for them.

Green Minuet

 

[Green Minuet]

[+] Kursha Vidari

Kursha accepted the towels less than graciously. “And hot water?” he emphasised, tone biting. “Or should I use the tea? Otherwise I can just bleed out here in your rumpus block. No big deal. Oh yeah. I guess it might stain. Well, in advance, let me just say I'm so sorry about your sofa.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm. Even when—no, especially when—being treated to hospitality, Kursha had little patience. He looked at Stryke expectantly.

leon_a_darkangel

Short post!

 

[leon_a_darkangel]

Stryke leveled him a stare to match his biting tone as he clicked his teeth together in a curt fashion of agreement. "oh. of courssse." He replied in a surprisingly calm fashion as he did just that. The agitation in his stance was spared from the other as he focused on what he needed to do.

Taking the time boiling some water for him was the least he could do. "do you need anything else?" Stryke asked then, his tone softer than the forced level one he'd retorted with initially. Waiting for the water to heat up, he glanced back at the other as he leaned against his kitchen counter in the meanwhile. Once the water was ready to transfer into a bowl, he brought to the greenblood after placing it on the table.

Green Minuet

here have one back

 

[Green Minuet]

[+] Kursha Vidari

While Stryke had his back to him, Kursha sipped at the tea. It tasted bitter—he made a face—but if what the yellowblood said was true, then he could use it to numb the burning in his side. He managed to down a couple mouthfuls before his host turned to face him again, and by then the cup had been restored to the table.

In response to the question, Kursha merely grunted. A yes or no would have no doubt been satisfactory, but that meant playing by Stryke's rules, and Kursha was stubborn to the last. He set the terms of their relationship, temporary or not. Content to ignore the yellowblood, Kursha pressed the towels to his wound to help soak up some of the blood. As the fabric met the rip in the skin, he gave a sharp intake of breath. His hands curled into fists, and he tried not to vomit. After a moment the feeling subsided. A good thing too. Moments later, Stryke returned with hot water. Kursha could not afford to be seen with any kind of weakness... again.

“How's Chittentown life treating you?” Kursha asked. The question came out of no where. Soaking one of the towels in the hot water, he kept his gaze away from the yellowblood's eyes. “Nothing like the rabble of Old Hemisect, I bet.”

leon_a_darkangel

 

[leon_a_darkangel]

Tsking at the other, Stryk even clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth when all Kursha did was grunt at him in reply. The yellowblood found himself sighing albeit gently. As observant as Stryke was, he was both drained and exhausted and in a fair bit of pain himself. Although the radial pain had been dulled by the full cup of tea he'd brewed. For what it was worth, the fact Kursha still had his dignity was of course unsurprising. Kursha constantly needed to feel in control of his environment so it seemed.. It was little different then when Stryke had to fix something because it was out of place.

It was a form of control.

Saying nothing about the pale complexion the other was sporting Stryke shifted to turn his attention on Kursha as he finally worked on wrapping his arm. "hmm...other than the sand, and crowded streets?" He quipped, an underlying hint of annoyance for having to share personal information. Of course Kursha was one of the first trolls he'd met as a small child, barely past his days as a wiggler. "it's beginning to feel a lot more like home. my lusssus liked it long before i did. i managed to acquire a fair amount of knick knacks..." Stryke smiled unexpectedly, as if he had been humbled by the experience. He trailed off about the finer details about his collection of things. "old hemisect will always be the hive i model new ones after. it was shabby, but it was mine." Stryke shrugged slightly as he made a face once he finally went to get himself another cup of the brew he'd made.

"what about you? is your current hive the same one you grew up in?" Stryke asked then, curious he realized to know answers to questions he'd never had the chance to ask about.

Green Minuet

 

[Green Minuet]

[+] Kursha Vidari

Stryke's rambling provided the distraction Kursha needed from what his hands were doing. He wrung out most the water from the towel, and placed it over his stomach. Gently he applied pressure to the wound. Feeling the sting, he closed his eyes, expression taught. Through the pain he focused in on Stryke's words.

“Why wouldn't it be?” he asked, trying to maintain a level voice.

leon_a_darkangel

And short again!

 

[leon_a_darkangel]

Stryke lifted his cup of tea, wincing as he sipped at it. His patient expression did not waver otherwise. "because..i never thought i'd have had to move from mine, ssso i was merely curious?" He was purposely making small talk to distract the other from his pain. Stryke finished cleaning off his own injury, patching himself up and ignoring the citrine stain on the bandages. He'd likely need stitches, he'd worry about it later.

Given Kursha's pained look, and pale color, he likely did too given the severity of the impact site from the bolt. "when you're ready i'll help you bandage it." He offered, without any real sense of pressure. Of course he could handle it, however the olive branch had been extended all the same.

Green Minuet

 

[Green Minuet]

[+] Kursha Vidari

Kursha cracked open an eye to study Stryke, gauging his sincerity. After a moment, he leaned his head back and closed his eye again. “I moved out,” he said, matter-of-factly. Despite his outward appearance of nonchalance, he chose his words carefully. “The Colonel wanted me to go into the military, so I gave her the middle prong and left. Like hell I'd go back to doing that s**t.”

He paused a moment to consider Stryke's offer to help. “Do you have a needle and thread?” he asked. A safe reply. He neither accepted nor declined.

leon_a_darkangel

 

[leon_a_darkangel]

Stryke noted the way the other looked him over, his expression was as guarded as ever. That had always been the baseline of most of their interactions since the Train Station episode all those sweeps ago. It had stopped bothering the yellowblood long ago, it was just Kursha's defensive attitude and way of being. "the military? i don't blame you then." Stryke replied quietly. "i'd have moved out if my lusus was riding me that way." SkinkDad had wanted him to excel and apply himself.

What Stryke did with that incentive was his own choice, as it had always been given the creatures indifference.

Pursing his lips in consideration, Stryke stood up after giving the other a small nod in reply. He quickly walked towards his respiteblock. Returning with a box containing medical supplies, Stryke sat the box down on the table as he slipped back into his seat. Immediately opening it, he produced first the herbal salve he'd made, and the requested needle and thread. "there is more wrap in here as well." He added matter of factly as he leaned back closing his eyes momentarily as he cringed.

Green Minuet