Let Bayous Be Bayous - A Fantroll Adventure

TS: ^i know that she can be
TS: ^...i'm beginning to feel pretty sure that she isn't, though

You take a deep breath, and then ask the question you'd originally wanted to ask.

TS: ^i'm going to take my time letting my ankle heal anyway
TS: ^so if i take my time figuring out if i can tell her the Tales too?
TS: ^i'll leave you guys out of it entirely if you'd rather, just-
TS: ^i really think i need to do this

You don't have the words, and it's so frustrating, but you're hoping Mintuu can figure out what you're trying to say anyway.

 

MI: A part of me wants to tell you not to exclude us, just so she knows that there is a planetwide network (she doesn't need to know how thinly spread and scattered we are) of trolls that would be Very Upset with her if she were to harm you. ~;@
MI: But your way is almost certainly better to actually have a chance of bringing her in, if she's sincere. And we can always use more trolls that know the Words. ~;@
MI: I know you have more practice with people than you did. But please, if you get the slightest feeling that something is off, please take the safe way out. ~;@

 

TS: ^no, i WOULD like to brag about you
TS: ^(and possibly have that in the wings to leverage as backup if things go wrong)
TS: ^i'm going to do my best to play it safe
TS: ^just... really feeling the urge to take a leap of faith here

 

You can feel your ears get a little warm.

MI: You would? c: ~;@
MI: I really have no space to tell you not to take that leap of faith. And I believe in your abilities to accurately assess a dangerous situation. You wouldn't be out there if you weren't good at it already. Just. I pity you fiercer than daylight and I want you to be all right even though I can't be there. So please do be careful. ~;@

 

Your bloodpusher feels all tight and warm, and you curl up around your phone.

TS: ^i would
TS: ^because i am redder than the Signless for you
TS: ^and because you really are amazing <3
TS: ^i'll be careful, and i'll stay in touch
TS: ^dinner is beginning to smell something like done, though

 

MI: CCC: ~;@
MI: Ok, you do that. Take care of yourself. I hope dinner is good. <3 ~;@
MI: Also Aztala wants you to know that she thinks you should, and I quote, 'Pap dat ass', so don't be surprised if you have the music video linked in the next message she sends you. ~;@

 

TS: ^i will. and i'll look out for that message, lol
TS: ^you take care of yourself too, okay?
TS: ^remember to ACTUALLY TROLL YOUR MOIRAIL if you're getting too fretty

 

MI: I will, don't worry. I'll be fine. ~;@

 

You simmer the offal in butter, adding water in increments until it turns into rich stock with lumps of well-broiled heart and kidney meat floating in it, then toss in some okra, a few of the little squash and yams what grow wild even in this half-drowned land, along with some water chestnuts, mushrooms, reed mace roots and marsh pignuts. Then you toss in as much paprika, salt and pepper as you yourself can up and stand - Appie said she likes gumbo, so you figure she can manage heat - and stir it until the whole thing smells so good you wanna dunk your whole head in the pot.

Not that you would with company, understand. Instead, you glance over your shoulder and grin when it looks like Appie's noticed the smell filling your hive too, then dig out a couple of good-sized bowls - you take the chipped one, but they're mismatched, you ain't used to needing sets - and ladle each of you a proper portion. You stick a big round wooden soup spoon in each and come over with a bowl in each hand. "Bayou stew, as motherfucking mentioned. It's on the thick side 'cuz I think I overdid the cattail and okra, but it oughta be tasty if you've got my palate for spice."

 

"It smells amazing," you admit, and then you take a taste and ohhhhhhhh... You hum happily and most of your attention is on inhaling stew for a while. Who knew getting treed by scalebeasts would be so calorie intensive.

After a bit, you slow down enough to make words happen. "This is amazing. Thank you so much for cooking."

 

"Aww, ain't no thing." you say, pleased, and then find out that hey, the night's excitement has made you all kinds of ravenous too. You inhale your food almost as quick as Appie, and then when you're done you grin at her. "If you're up and wanting seconds, help yourself as much you like. And hey, you got to eat the strength and the motherfucking soul of a scalebeast now, maybe they won't find you such a crunchy snack next time."

You're teasing, but you don't mean no malice by it. Your belly's full, you had one hell of a mirthful adventure in tonight, and best of all you got a maybe-new-moirail outta the deal, who is now praising your cooking,. You figure you're allowed your playfulness.

 

You bare your fangs and make silly growly noises, and then go ahead and help yourself to a second bowl. Seeing her all grinning and playful is good. "My track record of not letting things actually eat me is pretty good so far - and what doesn't kill you is frequently delicious. Good to know scalebeasts fit the trend."

 

You laugh at her silly noises, and go get yourself another half-portion to savour while she eats. You grin at her comment. "Yeah, s'good juju to eat shit what tried to eat you. The Mirthful all up and like that kind of motherfucking cosmic irony, you know? Makes 'em look more favoursome on those who commit it."

Then once you're done eating, you set your bowl to one side and lie back on the long bench, head propped on pillows so you can watch your new palemate and the leaves drifting in the breeze out the window. Something occurs to you, then. "Oh, motherfuck, I forgot. Don't freak out when the sky's all up and lightening, okay? The glass in the windows is all fancy shit - they'll darken automatic-like when it gets light enough, and there's some weird stuff in them that stops the sun from hurting us."

 

"Oh! That's good to know, thank you." You probably would have panicked, is the thing, and wouldn't that be embarrassing. You polish off your own bowl of seconds, your nutrition sac incredibly full and satisfied, and set your dish to the side. The dancing patterns of leaf-shadows across the blankets and across Vastar are sort of hypnotizing, and you catch yourself tapping out a fingering on your knee.

"...can I play for you?"

 

You sit up, face lighting up under the smearing white mess your paint's increasingly become, and clap your hands together delightedly. "Motherfuck, yeah! I wanna get my auriculars on your noisemaking, pupa, do it!"

There's a bit of you that might be saying startlement ain't the best place to start a music jam, but the rest of it is drowned out by your enthusiastic consent to her pipe-playing.

 

You startle slightly, but grin back. "O-okay. Just a second."

You're unaccountably nervous when you pull your pipes out of your modus. You shouldn't have performance fright - you've played for your whole safehive quite a bit, and played for Mintuu almost more than you've talked, sometimes. But still. Your pipes are handmade and adapted to your own design, your music is still strange-sounding compared to the historical Great Compositions you've started studying recently. What if she thinks it's stupid?

You shake your head sharply to clear it. Bring your pipes to your lips, blowing just a bit of warming breath through them, flexing your fingers over the holes. And then you play.

((best approximation music is apparently an ensemble, go figure. but something with this kind of feeling to it.))

 

You listen intently as she plays, hanging on every note. You ain't got the knowing of much about music, but you know what you favour, and shit if that ain't some sweet tunes right there. It's cheerful, but also chill in a way that ain't underlined with the laughing violence most of the shit your caste is up and expected to like, and you find you really, really enjoy it.

Once she's drawn to a close, you're almost disappointed if you weren't so motherfuckin' star-eyed and awed. You breathe, "Motherfuck. You gotta up and teach me how to warble on that tune, sister. I ain't never heard nothing so sweet and fine not ever."

You realise that you can actually touch this upright and outright miracle, and you do, cupping her cheek almost hesitantly. "You ain't nothing but pure starshine, Appie. Might be all an motherfucking mixed up, but I reckon it was a good turn after all what brought you to me, yeah?"

 

You are beginning to blush even at the praise of your music, and with her hand cupped on your cheek, you do feel made of stars. You lean into her palm a little, and your voice feels very soft as you say, "A very good turn."

You hope she still feels that way once you start explaining about the more dangerous parts of your life.

Shoving the worry down, you say, "I... can try to teach it? I can play through bits of the theme slower, at least. I'd love to play with you."

 

Your bloodpusher damn near melts when she leans into your touch, and you smile helplessly, wide and bright and downright goofy with your buck teeth. You lean over and press a kiss to her temple, just on account of you can. You consider her offer. "Sure thing, sister, but not right and immediately, yeah? I ain't got no real retention for learning with my stomach all full and heavy like so."

You make a gesture, suggesting a distended disgestion sac, and grin again. "Jam with me a little, maybe. I feel like we ain't quite got the full knowing of each other just yet - I guess it was a friend you were up and texting while I was cooking this miracle of a meal? Do I get to know about them yet, or is it still all up in the mystery marked 'not your place to tell'?"

You pause, think, then grin a little sheepish like. "You're already making me hella curious, pupa. You're a miracle wrapped in a mystery wrapped in a motherfucking enigma and I really like it."

 

You smile at the affection, although it becomes slightly hesitant at the questions about who you'd been messaging. You can tell your mysteries... you're just much more uncertain about it than you'd really let show to Mintuu while you were trying to convince her.

Still... Vastar's reassuring you almost without knowing you need reassurance, that you having mysteries isn't only okay, she likes it. You bite your lip a bit, and duck your head, feeling your cheeks grow warm. "No, I mean- I- she- I asked." You half-laugh at yourself and try again. "About the things that weren't entirely my secret to tell, and it's okay. Just."

You meet Vastar's eyes again, and say, "I was talking to my matesprit, and she was checking with our clade. It's okay for me to share things. Just... most of those exciting secrets are pretty dangerous things. And I'm willing to tell you them. I just don't know... exactly how much you want to know?"