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Buzzwulf rolled 1 6-sided dice:
3
Total: 3 (1-6)
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 Posted: Fri Sep 14, 2018 4:19 pm
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penemueIntuition rolled 2 6-sided dice:
5, 4
Total: 9 (2-12)
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Posted: Fri Sep 14, 2018 5:20 pm
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Buzzwulf rolled 2 6-sided dice:
2, 3
Total: 5 (2-12)
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Posted: Fri Sep 14, 2018 6:42 pm
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Posted: Sun Sep 16, 2018 7:37 am
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While he didn't appreciate the tummy pinch, Mahmud was happy that Quella at least hugged him back. Like, woah. Even her hugs were super strong. Jeez, what did they feed this girl? Last time he saw her...
Oh... oh! Bandages! "Right! This way, come on!" Circling around her, he gently pushed her towards the front entrance. Lord knows what those three were leaving around in the back. Last thing he needed to do was shove Quella right into incriminating Rebel evidence. She seemed associated with the ROTC so...
Leading her into into Underworld, he then guided Quella onto a couch and had her sit. "Hang tight!" He then scurried off behind the bar. Various items must have been shuffled around, given the din Mahmud was making back there. "Aha!" But then above the bar, a single hand holding a roll of bandage popped up. "Knew we had some more of this..."
Mahmud was an odd combination of weepy and chipper, eyes still puffy from his previous blubbering but strolling to Quella with a spring in his step. "Okay! Ooookay let me see this..." Gingerly, he took one of her bleeding hands and wrapped bandage around it. He put a lot of care into this action, trying not to make Quella hurt too much more.
"There we go..."
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Posted: Sun Sep 16, 2018 11:30 pm
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Quella Fehtan
Quella didn't squirm as Mahmud bandaged her hands, satisfied to just let the brownblood take his time. And she didn't wanna get an infection. That alleyway was disgusting. As soon as he finished with the bandages, Quella sat up with a stern look on her face.
"Alright dude, listen. This is exactly why you need to come to ROTC, and exactly why you need to get more practice fighting." She swung around to the bar and grabbed a bottle, sucking down more than half of... whatever it was... in a single pull. Tasted expensive. Whatever, Quella was good for it. "I get that you don't like fighting, but you get too emotional. You're not gonna win every fight, my man, and if you pull that s**t you just pulled on me with pretty much any other highblood? Dude, I have POWERS. Anyone else would have taken you #$%^ing apart. You'd be lucky to end up in a hunt, lowblood."
She took another pull, finished the bottle.
"Whereas sometimes, you take the hits, you do a little woe is me, you're too strong for me to possibly compare, and you get to live, my dude. Cause the way you're carrying on, I'm amazing you ain't been culled yet. You don't have to like fighting, but you're gonna have to live with it. Or just get beat up. Ain't my call. But this escalation s**t is gonna get you killed. So COME TO THE MEETINGS. Or join fight club! You'd hate it."
Quella shrugged, tossed the bottle across the room into a waste basket, and was rewarded with a shattering sound as it fell right into the rim. She tossed up her hands as she scored the goal, then winced. Damn, those hairclips stung. "Trust me on this, ok? I like you, but you're really... not much of a survivor. And sometimes you just gotta show your belly, dude. No shame in that. I've done it myself, when Akurra feels like I'm starting to get on his nerves."
The huge blueblood leaned in and ruffled the desert troll's hair with a massive hand, leaving behind little spots of blue. "Whoops." she said with a chuckle and a grin. "You're older than me, dude. You should have this s**t figured out already. Unless..." Quella mocked a gasp. "Oh my gog. Are you a rebel?" Then she burst out laughing at the look on Mahmud's face, literally slapping at a knee. "Ohmigog you shoulda seen yourself, man. Absolutely priceless."
Skyli Peep you best watch your a**, kid |
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Posted: Mon Sep 17, 2018 9:39 am
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"Hey, no don't--" Too late. Awww s**t, Cerpin was gonna double kill him now. Bringing non-rebel aligned trolls into the nightclub willy nilly and letting them drink the good stuff. Mahmud held up a hand in protest, which quickly just... curled into itself and fell again as the bottle was half-polished off. Yup. Looks like he knew how he was gonna be spending his spare beetles.
Honestly though, he had bigger problems to worry about.
Namely that the kid he'd met slamming poetry was now slamming his very lifestyle. Granted, he'd just had this talk with Deimos but... gog, it felt so much worse hearing that from Quella. "Too emotional". Again with the "too emotional". He knew he was! And it was clear that he was, given how his nose wrinkled up at this conversation. In an attempt to hide his apparent displeasure, Mahmud looked away from Quella. <********, how he hated that term more than she could ever understand.
How he hated the idea of sucking up to some highblood like a sniveling coward just to preserve his own life. Hated that he'd even have to fight. Tears were already stinging his eyes again, and a wrist came up to wipe them all away. Mahmud was furious. Furious that she was right, furious that it had to be this way, furious that this was the impression he gave off...
Mahmud was a coward with standards, gog damn it.
He said nothing the whole while, fists clenched, mouth gone dry. Not even at the offer to join Fight Club did he say anything. ******** that s**t. He was never going to "show his belly". Except... ******** he'd have to, wouldn't he? Ugh. UGH. UGH SHE JUST DRANK THE LAST OF THAT ALCOHOL NOT EVEN ENOUGH FOR BACKWASH. And broke the bottle in the basket. And he was going to have to clean that. ********, man.
As she ruffled his hair, Mahmud continued looking particularly grumpy and sour. In fact, he did right up until she mentioned Rebels. To which his soul left his body and he emotionally did a flying pirouette off the deep end. "WH--" Only to be met with her laughter. A... a joke. It had been a joke. One that he gave a tittery laugh to. "H-Hey don't throw those words around, you don't know who could be listening. Innocent people could get in trouble." Like him. Technically. Reaping all the benefits of rebels without actually committing.
Running away from everything...
Mahmud said nothing for a good, long time. All he did was look like someone squirted lemons in his mouth and eyes. Rage-filled tears and all that nonsense. Finally though, after the long silence, a hoarse voice came out of him, clearly defeated. "What is... Fight Club". It was exactly as stated on the tin wasn't it? A club for fighting? The question was more of a polite formality at this point. "And how do I join." This wasn't going to be good. This wasn't going to be good for Tevini, or Cerpin, or Aerona to have him hanging around a bunch of hemoloyal trolls but he'd have to do it to save his own life right about now. This is what it came down to, wasn't it? And maybe if he complied, it'd make them look less suspicious somehow in the process.
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Posted: Tue Sep 18, 2018 12:07 am
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Quella Fehtan
Quella watched as Mahmud swallowed that bitter pill. Her chestpusher sunk a little bit as tear stung back at the corners of the brownblood's eyes, always sad to deliver bad news to a friend. "Hey hey wait, hold on, you don't gotta take it like that. I just mean... you know, you gotta respect strength, right? So if you're losing a fight, you don't have to like bow and scrape or whatever. You can keep that honor. Just... take the hits. There's an honor in losing a fight and still getting back up and trying again. But there's no honor in escalating a fight past your abilities and then getting yourself killed." Yeah, that wasn't really gonna help much. Dammit, Quella, a little bit of empathy here wasn't gonna hurt anyone. "I just mean you don't have to compromise your pride, man. Just, you know, be willing to lose every once in a while and don't freak about it. Eating dirt is part of getting good."
Laughing, Quella scattered a couple beetles across the bar from a pocket, massively overpaying for the drink she'd stolen. When Mahmud looked at her funny she just shrugged. "What? Dude, I have a military allowance and I don't spend like any beetles on anything. I live in a cave. I do all my own hunting." The blueblood laughed again, a storm caught in troll form. "And I'm right here, man, no one's gonna accuse you of being a rebel. Have you seen how big I am? I'm huge! And you're crazy! No one's gonna mess with us!"
The hunter stuck out a tongue as Mahmud retreated back into himself. "Oh come on, dude, it's not all bad. If you wanna join fight club I'll be right there with you, and I'm a pretty good troll to have around in a scrap. Or so I've been told." Unfortunately Fleetfeet gym was pretty far away for the brownblood, but if he wasn't comfortable going to ROTC, it was definitely better than nothing, and Quella sure as hell wasn't gonna let Mahmud walk around like a ticking time bomb like he was right now. "I'll tell you what! I gotta take the train to hemisect anyway when I have to go to the gym. I'll just pick you up on the way! Then I can introduce you to all the mentors. They're super nice!"
They were not super nice.
"I'm glad I checked up on you, Mahmud. It's good to see you." Quella finished, settling a hand on the desert troll's shoulder. She left it there until he'd managed to compose himself a bit.
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Posted: Tue Sep 18, 2018 11:20 am
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Pride? Pride?! Was that what she thought this was about? No, this anger was something bigger than he was... and... maybe a little bit of pride. That word took a lot of wind out of his sails. Was that the reason he'd beaten up Judhas way before? Or the reason he started strangling Deimos? Was it all pride? Or was she reading him wrong... or was he looking far too into this.
Look at him, thinking too hard about himself again.
Even more wind was taken out when she paid for the drinks. Okay good, then they just needed replacements... and... "Crazy?" Was that really the impression Mahmud gave off? Scratching his cheek lightly, looking a little embarrassed, he was left to contemplate that point. "I don't think I look... crazy..."
Before, when fighting Quella, he'd felt like a creature larger than himself, something wild and frightening. Now he just felt... meek. Small, being talked to like this. As if he'd deflated completely back to himself and then some. She was making plans without asking him, and all Mahmud could do was nod. s**t. s**t he really had to do this, didn't he? Maybe if he played sick on days he was supposed to catch the train. What if the mentors were not super nice?
"I uh..." Was this really a good visit? Was it really good to see Quella like this? "Nice to see you too... I guess..." Even the touch of his shoulder made him a little bit jumpy. He looked up to his... friend? With a quizzical look, as if he was trying to decipher her hidden intentions. But really there was no intentions there. She was a straight shooter, said what was on her mind. "So... when are you going to... you know... Fight Club? What day? Do I need anything special? Should I get a work-out outfit?" Feeling awfully silly, Mahmud's voice trailed off near the end, as he looked over to the hand on his shoulder.
Taking some of the blows, to become stronger... well, thats certainly what this felt like.
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Posted: Sat Sep 22, 2018 11:19 pm
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Quella Fehtan
Quella ran a huge hand through her braids, giving the smaller troll a guilty smile. "Hey man, crazy is a compliment where I come from. Just take it." Geez, Mahmud sure was sensitive. She would have thought that someone who could throw down a diss as hard as the brownblood would be a little... what, harder? Didn't look like the desert troll had really had much opportunity for real fights. Or maybe he had, but those fights had gone real sour. Now that was something interesting to consider.
Whatever, at the very least she was gonna make sure he could take care of himself.
"If I were you, I'd just get some clothes you can move around in that you don't mind getting a bit of blood on." The huge hunter said it with a smile that got a little predatory as she continued. She couldn't resist messing with the brownblood at least a little. "And maybe some tape for your hands? Can't let those delicate little prongs get broken. I'll pick you up every other nubday at, uh, about... 800 hours? And bring a odor disintegration slab, man. You'd be amazed how many people forget."
She knew that look.
Quella cocked an eyebrow. "And don't even think about pretending to be sick. I'll drag you if I have to."
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