[PRP]Blended Fruit Concoctions [Zeylla+Sascha]

[artificial bones]

WOULD YOU STOP THAT INFERNAL WHISTLING? Can't you see I'm enjoying my fruity liquid beverage.
a produce-blending cantina in four fronds

 

[artificial bones]

Things had been, to say the least, hectic over the last few weeks. Leechmom was seemingly slowly losing her sanity. More and more, Zeylla struggled with following the rules of her lusus, and more often than not was punished for transgressions she didn't understand fully. But she was a good, loyal troll(wasn't she?) and so she accepted her punishment without a word, head bowed and tired before her squirming, twisting lusus.

But for every punishment, there was a little notch put in her mind, a little niggling that said 'Run away, go and get out. You do not need this,' and while she couldn't literally leave Leechmom forever(how could she even think that), she did find herself sneaking out after the giant leech had fallen into a fitful, full-bellied sleep, and visiting Four Fronds more often than she used to.

It was more peaceful there than in the bigger cities, and recently she had found a lovely little shop that sold called a 'smoothie'. It was a delicious concoction of fruits and ice and milk and Zeylla couldn't get enough. Why, that's where she was at this very moment, perched on a barstool and drinking slowly from a full cup of dark purple blended deliciousness.

This was the way to relax, with just the chatter of a few other trolls and the cold sweet drink to sate her physically and emotionally. The fact that this cantina she currently inhabited with it's cutesy design and plush barstools and even plusher couches also helped(secretly she loved color, loved warm and friendly settings...if only Leechmom agreed...). 'Nothing could ruin this,' Zeylla thought with a happy mental sigh as she took another drink. She needed this, this calming moment to ease her anger and frustration from her hivelife. Sometimes she felt like she was so close to exploding that the littlest thing could trigger her, but thankfully there was blended fruit to help her through.

seekingCylem

hope thats okay!

 

[seekingCylem]

Four Fronds was exactly as classy as the advertisements made it out to be. Sascha would have been more disappointed in himself for not visiting sooner, but he likely wouldn't have appreciated the swanky atmosphere and good food nearly as much as a child. A... well, a slightly older youth had a lot more options open to them entertainment-ways. Such was especially true for a troll with multiple sources of income.

Some of that income, Sascha decided, was to be dedicated to a frosty produce beverage. There were more cafes in the scenic districts of Four Fronds than could be visited in a single yellowblood's lifetime. Sascha had managed to narrow down his options to a modest establishment outside the central shopping arenas. The prices were still clearly aimed at tourists, Sascha noted with a grimace. However, he knew if he wanted a cheap fruit drink in Four Fronds, he'd have better luck wandering out into the woods and picking berries himself. He was paying for the experience.

The experience currently consisted of leaning against the bar, watching the troll on the other side bustle about, chopping fruits. Sascha wasn't the only smoothie aficionado on holiday that evening. While he didn't have anywhere he needed to be, Sascha also didn't have much else to occupy himself with. He folded his arms over the bar and whistled a made-up tune. His boot tapped in time with the rhythm of the barista's knife. The night was young.

stringency

 

[artificial bones]

Zeylla had just made about a third of the way through her drink, and was enjoying watching the troll behind the counter jovially toss his knife around like a toy between each slice of the fruit before him. She was thinking pleasantly about how much work it would take to get good at flipping knives through the air without losing a digit, when another troll walked it. The ding of the bell chimed through the air and she couldn't help but look at watch(casually) as the yellowblood strutted in.

His demeanor was one she found instantly at odds with her own. She could tell this was a troll who thought highly of himself, and probably had not an inkling of respect for a troll of hemoanonymous status. Thankfully, he was just another troll in the crowd, and she put her eyes back to the knife artist without another thought.

Or perhaps not. Perhaps the world was against her today.

Zeylla was starting to think so.

Because the instant she turned her eyes from that yellowblood(it felt like instantly at least, like he was doing it on purpose) he started whistling. Of all of the annoying things to do! And he was tapping his foot along with his stupid little song. Zeylla felt the niggling begin in the back of her think pan; the promise of terribly annoying and worthless pan-ache. Oh, how she hated music. It was why she came to this specific shop, because it lacked the usual annoyingly cheery(and also pan-ache inducing) ditties that kept her from other shops. Her face went sour almost instantaneously, but she reeled herself in from saying something. He would get his drink and stop.

Except several other trolls had ordered before him, and with only one worker behind the counter, the time between him ordering and him stopping that infernal racket seemed to stretch on for forever. And every second was another second of pure torture(or at least severe annoyance). After several minutes of waiting with tried patience, Zeylla found herself unable to hold back.

"Do you mind?" she snarled down the bar, eyes snapping towards the culprit of her discomfort. Couldn't she just have a moments peace? Just one, single, tiny moment? "Some of us are trying to enjoy ourselves here, perhaps you could take your little tune outside?"

Her voice dripped with bubbling irritation, verging on the beginning of anger as her growing headache, well, grew.

seekingCylem

 

[seekingCylem]

With the fresh cool air of Four Fronds and the homey atmosphere of the cafe, Sascha was the most at-peace he'd been for a long while. His various aches and pains had loosened considerably since his walk about town. He briefly gave credit to the hippies of Alternia--they may have been onto something with their fresh forest air nonsense.

His mood and his whistling both dried up as he realized he was being addressed.

Sascha leaned further on the bar to openly stare down Zeylla sitting a few seats over. He'd clearly just noticed her for the first time and looked wholly unimpressed. Even if he hadn't seen her speak to him, he would have easily been able to peg her as a troll with opinions on noise. Her look was clean, pressed, even starched maybe. She was returning Sascha's unimpressed look with the finesse of someone who made such an expression for a living. Finding himself disadvantaged, Sascha broke face and leaned back, hands and eyebrows raised in a "no offense" gesture.

And he whistled in low and drawn out "Woooooow."

stringency

 

[artificial bones]

For a minute she thought he was done.

Zeylla really tried to hope, somewhere in her, that he was done. She even tried to ignore the fact that he had dared to stare her down(she held fast though), or the way he gave her a look that said he was far from caring about her opinion. Or! Or the fat that he didn't even both to apologize, and chose instead to shrug it off. Zeylla tried to let it pass, because while usually she would react with far less tact, but today. Today she just wanted to enjoy her beverage and find a little peace.

There would evidently not be any peace for her today.

She could almost here the snark in his whistle, and it only added to her irritation. Her head was promising misery, and perhaps he was done now, and that would go away. But no, she couldn't let him end it on a whistle. She hopped from the stool she had been perched so comfortably on and took a couple steps towards Sascha, arms spread in exasperation.

"And what part of stop whistling did you not understand?" she gave him a glance over, eyes lingering on his wrapped arms and head, and put on a terribly obvious feigned attempt of Worry and Caring, hand pressed to her cheek like she cared- adding, "though, poor thing, perhaps you can't understand, so let me say it slower.

Stop. Whistling," she made sure to say the last part extra slow, so maybe he would get it through his thick head.

seekingCylem

 

[seekingCylem]

Sascha followed Zeylla's approach with his eyes, but made no further movement to step either closer or back. He looked far too pleased with himself to have received the scale of the reaction Zeylla was giving him. He couldn't properly purse his lips to whistle with the grin he was sporting.

Zeylla continued, metaphorically poking at Sascha in an attempt to return the favor. "Gee, Miss, when you put it that way..." Sascha sucked in a breath, only to choke on it as a to-go cup was thrust directly in front of his face.

Sascha recovered with a shaky exhale as he registered the pink beverage was the one he'd just ordered. Slowly, he took it from the barista who seemed pointedly aware of what they'd just interrupted, and unhappy about the whole scenario. Sascha silently nodded his thanks, but otherwise refused to acknowledge the glare he was receiving from the other side of the counter.

Sascha sipped on his smoothie with a forced casualness. He was obviously displeased with having his comeback torpedoed. Unfortunately for everyone, he was also unwilling to let the exchange rest.

"If you got a noise complaint you can file it with the police." Sascha rolled his eyes emphatically.

stringency

 

[artificial bones]

Zeylla couldn't help but smirk when Sascha was cut off by the barista, his pink drink shoved so close to his face, with an awkwardly surprised look on as he swallowed his words. She also chose to ignore the nasty look given to her and the yellowblood, because while she enjoyed this shop, she wasn't about to back down. Not now, not after she already started. Backing down now, even to be polite to the barista and other consumers, would be like accepting she had lost, and she wasn't about to do that.

The way he sipped his drink and mulled over how to come back from that interruption kept the mocking smile on Zeylla's face, and she couldn't help but wait, almost excitedly, for his response. She could almost see the cogs turning in his hea, or at least that's how she viewed the body language before her.

His insult was less then she expected, though it did give strength to her 'thick-headed' view of Sascha. She shook her head a little and then let her eyes snap back to his with a casual sense of distaste, "I don't think you understand, I was here first, enjoying myself. You came in, after, and ruined my peace. Now, you have your drink, so why don't you just walk right out that door you came in from, and leave me be," she waved an arm at the exit, and added with a sweep towards a corner table, far from her, "Or, take a seat, and keep your tunes to yourself, before you start something you can't finish" Zeylla gave another condescending smile, and turned to leave, figuring she had won this conversation. She wasn't really serious about a fight, but figured a threat could be useful if well placed.

seekingCylem

 

[seekingCylem]

The smug look on Zeylla's face only further cemented the displeasure on Sascha's. He continued sucking down his smoothie as she talked, but found the situation putting a damper on the taste of his beverage. This was not something by which Sascha could abide.

Sascha opened his mouth to retort, only for Zeylla to close with the words "before you start something you can't finish." That was a challenge if Sascha ever heard one.

"Really," Sascha replied emphatically, "Really, this is where you're gonna be planting your flag. On some rando whistling a tune while waiting the few minutes it takes to grind a frozen produce beverage? Who do you think you are?" Sascha's gaze flickered downward to take note of Zeylla's symbol. His expression narrowed at the distinct lack of color.

"What kinda reach of a political statement is this?"

stringency

 

[artificial bones]

Zeylla shrugged, as if she didn't care that she was upsetting him, though deep down, under all her normal rules and facade of not giving a damn, she was enjoying this. Zeylla was like two people, one outward troll that tried to stay out of things and live a basic, peaceful existence, and another troll on the inside who screamed for conflict; for excitement. And today, with cracks in her walls from all her inner turmoil and personal problems, that other troll was sneaking through.

Her face said whatever, but her mind said, 'LET'S DO THIS'.

"Yes, really. Because I know you, trolls like you. If I hadn't spoken up, you would have sat here whistling a tu--What?" her face flickered to confusion for a moment. What did he mean, political statement. All she wanted was him to leave or be quiet, not to make some statement. But he was eyeing her symbol with a distinctly sour, distrusting look.

"Are you stupid? This isn't about politics, this is about you being annoying," Zeylla finally snapped, shaking her head of both confusion and in frustration. She touched her symbol, and added, defensively, "Also, what does it matter where I stand? Do you have a problem with this? Because if you got something to say, you better say it."

'Yes', said her inner, angrier self, 'say it. Say it and start something, so I can finish it.'

seekingCylem

 

[seekingCylem]

Sascha was visibly angry at this point. The series of small offenses had snowballed. The result, meanwhile, was compounded by his frustration at his inability to get Zeylla to see what he was so mad about. The plastic to-go cup creaked under Sascha's grip. He set it on the counter with a surprising amount of gentleness for the tension that had built up in his shoulders. He was showing a great deal more care in his actions than he had when he was simply acting out to be annoying.

"You 'know me'? You got some good jokes there, lady. Should wear clown paint too if you're so keen on hiding s**t." Sascha rolled his jaw and re-squared his shoulders. "Here's some stuff I know:" Sascha held up one finger, "You wouldn't pick a fight with me you knew you couldn't win. That's me making a generous assumption towards your intelligence. Secondly: there ain't a damn thing between us I can see that says I gotta listen to jack of what you tell me to do. So! Where's all this self-important expectation of 'yes ma'am, sorry ma'am' coming from, then? Big question."

Sascha didn't bother to wait for an answer from Zeylla. As far as he was concerned, he had the situation all figured out. He set his finger-count back to one. "You're playing pretend highblood with nothing to back you up because 'Boo-hoo, living with class oppression is soooo hard.' Coward. Or! Option two, you are a real class act who gets their kicks yukking it up with the poor unwashed masses--all until things aren't quite going your way. Again! Coward."

Sascha leaned forward slightly to even the height difference between the pair. His nails dug into the fabric on his hips. "So. Where do you stand?"

stringency

 

[artificial bones]

By the time Sascha was done talking, Zeylla was basically grinding her teeth with irritation and impatience. All she had wanted was some quiet, some gogdamn quiet. That's all she had asked for, and since then the yellowblood had become more and more aggravating. Now he was saying she couldn't hold her own in a fight, continuing to argue with her when obviously he was in the wrong(she had been here FIRST, and all she had wanted was him to shut up) and he called her a coward.

"It doesn't matter where I stand, because you aren't worth telling!" she snapped back, bristles finally rising. She was no coward, she had survived her life without help, she had proven over and over her worth to herself. She was no coward. Just because she lived a life where she didn't chose to show her blood did not make her any less. And WHO CARED what her bloodcolor was? Did it matter? Really?

"All I know is I am standing in front of a troll who doesn't know when to shut up and just leave, even though you will never win this, or any fight between us," she waved her hand up and down before him, gesturing at his whole self, "You think you're so great, but you're not. If I was the weak, pathetic coward you think I am, then you must be pretty pathetic yourself to let me get you so upset," she would always win, she could take him, she wasn't weak and she wasn't a goddamn coward.

seekingCylem

 

[seekingCylem]

Sascha smirked in a manner that held not even a fake amount of cheer. He felt secure in his stance both ethically and physically, but somehow that didn't take the edge off of how aggravating this troll was. His only solace was that she was as unhappy with the situation as he was.

"You don't even know what 'upset' is," Sascha snarled, "But I'll be happy to give you a taste when I kick your a**. Violence against a highblood ain't a punishable offense if ya don't know they're a highblood." Sascha shrugged his shoulders sarcastically as he spoke in a faux lilting voice.

Sascha turned on the barista just as the latter was about to interject. "Outside," he stressed. The barista backed off as their demand was met preemptively. They were still unequivocally displeased with everything in the cafe right then, but were not getting paid nearly enough to intervene further.

Sascha wheeled back on Zeylla. "You, me, outside, right now. We'll settle this properly."

stringency

 

[artificial bones]

She knew if Leechmom found out she was in so much trouble, but the part of Zeylla in charge right now was screaming on the inside, shaking at the bars of it's cage, ready to fight. A smile curled on her lips, her pump biscuit speeding up as adrenaline rolled through her system.

She glanced over at the barista after Sascha said outside, and watched as they visibly relaxed from the tense stance of a troll worrying about their personal things but uncertain if it is wise to say something. She felt like the next time she came here, it might be a little awkward.

"Let's settle this," she growled, completely ignoring the fact that she was leaving her drink behind as she stalked out towards the door. "I'll show you what happens when trolls don't listen."

seekingCylem

 

[seekingCylem]

Continued in [BATT] Ground Ice.