[PRP] "Business" Date (AandesxSinter)

[Sypon]

Two trolls meet for food and beverage, enjoy each other's company and are generally agreeable young fellows.

 

[Sypon]

Aandes had made plenty of "dates" before - he was aware when to arrive to make a certain impression, how to dress, what to order, and what kind of small talk to use to woo his potential connection. It was simple, really - context was everything. By exploring and analyzing an individual's outward appearance and engaging them to explore their inner self, such adventures were usually met with pleasantry and success. Four Fronds was Aandes' stomping ground, and even New Hemisect had its fair share of ventures from the savvy troll.

It is because of this that Aandes pinned his nervousness on the new locale. Civisect was a brand new city after all - he was hardly aware of the local businesses, let alone the cafe scene. What if he chose a poor date setting by accident?

Well, ready or not, Aandes was sitting in his cafe of choice, drumming his fingers on his table. He'd arrived early as well, which was strangely atypical for him. In a business situation, arriving in a timely fashion was important, but so early seemed rather subservient. Then again, in a more intimate setting he would arrive on time or late, and he didn't suppose this was one of those dates... But then again, he honestly couldn't pin-point why he'd asked Sinter out on the first place. Aandes thought it over.

Sinter was a lowblood in company with a high-ranking clown (a purpleblood no less to finish out the stereotype). This on its own was curious - Aandes could use the redblood to get closer to the purpleblood. But, knowing the ... Violent capriciousness of clowns, the policing power wasn't in his best interest. And he was clearly a straight-laced loyalist - someone who could prove to be useful but perhaps one-note in a sticky situation. However, his savviness and attitude was speaking to a general sense of social climbing and organization. It wasn't in Aandes' typical interest to pick up someone of lower caste on potential alone unless they particularly excelled in an area for potential celebrity status (Odette came to mind), but Sinter seemed to be an exception. He was so used to having a strategy -- an angle. It was a new position for Aandes.

He looked back and forth from the exit to his half-empty water glass, and suddenly the waiter appeared with a carafe, leaving it on the table. A signifier of how long he'd been waiting. Aandes had been drinking like a fish and yet his protein chute still felt dry. Aandes cleared a lump from his throat and took a more measured sip of his water.  

[seekingCylem]

Sinter strode down the boardwalk in clipped, uneven strides as he occasionally paused to reevaluate his appearance in the windows of local businesses. He thanked his lucky stars that he’d thought to bring extra clothing despite wearing a bathing suit for all his dunk tank debuts. Despite his best efforts, that damned booth was sticky.

But that was hardly a surprise. What was surprising was that Sinter had been… asked… out? By a complete stranger! Yes, Sinter supposed those were the correct words. He was asked to go out to a local café, but the possible connotations made Sinter’s head spin. He was doing his best not to overthink the situation, but such was far from his nature. This greenblood must have had some motivation to invite Sinter on this outing, but Sinter couldn’t follow the reasoning for the life of him.

Still, Sinter was always one to put his best foot forward whenever possible. What harm could come from time spent in a pleasant café in a newly-renovated upper-class city? Well, plenty, but Bloodfest had been going well for Sinter and he wasn’t about to let his mood sour due to wild speculation.

Sinter thankfully noticed the café’s signage before strolling past it altogether as he contemplated his situation. Trying not to turn too sharply, he entered the building.

It was a cute place. In fact, Sinter was surprised it wasn’t more crowded considering the festivities. As such it wasn’t hard for Sinter to spy Aandes’ unique color from across the threshold.

Upon approaching the table, Sinter immediately noticed the water carafe placed on the table. His eyes darted back to Aandes, exposed teeth digging into his lower lip. ”Ah! I’m sorry for the delay! I haven’t kept you waiting, have I?” Sinter tried to keep the tremor of his bloodpusher from rattling his voice. This had to be a speed record for botching a date. Did he just use the word “da-“

Before Sinter could become further derailed, he took his seat at the table. Talking while standing adjacent to his company would look stupid. Sinter scooched his chair in as subtly as he could and straightened his jacket as he waited anxiously for a response.  

[Sypon]

The greenblood identified the faint sound of jingling and Sinter’s impressive rack. He sat up straight in his chair and tugged on the bottom of his hoodie, unable to move out of his chair to let Sinter in. He should have pulled out his chair for him – oh god, he thought he was late. Aandes’ face froze momentarily as he internally screamed. He already had to save face?! His mind worked around the clock for a suitable excuse.

“O-oh! No, not at all! I-I just got here myself,” He interjected. Aandes bit his lip and transferred into a casual laugh with a wave of his hand. Reasonable excuse, reasonable excuse… “I’ve had a bit of a sore throat at the booth and I nearly choked on a lozenge. They gave me a carafe after I nearly coughed up a storm in here,” he chuckled. A little bit descriptive, but maybe he could save this.

Aandes had time now to stop and think. “Don’t let me hog all the water,” he joked. He casually poured Sinter a drink. His companion was as stiff and anxious as – well – he was inside. It was no wonder he was flighty, but he seemed much more relaxed and composed at the booth. Aandes eased into a tactic of relaxed conversation, pulling from their previous engagement.

“I thought I’d be late, myself. Helping run a Skate Booth can get a bit sticky… Though I imagine it’s double for you,” Aandes mused. He had a spark of humor in his eyes. “I do hope you’ve been enjoying Bloodfest regardless?”

He gently pawed the menu near him and glanced over it nonchalantly between looks at Sinter – trying not to clear his throat or drink from his glass too often.  

[seekingCylem]

Sinter felt his pinched expression loosen at Aandes’ words. The greenblood seemed intent on making Sinter feel better, so he allowed himself to relax. Well, relax about as well as he could given his natural personality. Sinter thanked Aandes for filling his glass.

”Aha, yeah. I’ll say,” Sinter laughed gently at Aandes’ stickiness comment. ”My overpacking was not in vain. Tamiya ended up in one of my spare outfits. Her old clothes have probably disintegrated by now from the soda.” He shook his head in mock exasperation. ”I can’t imagine anyone but a clown getting away with a stunt like that.” Sinter entertained the thought of himself in a purple hemotyped outfit for all of a second before shuddering from the inevitable end to that particular scenario.

Sinter recovered from his morbid thoughts abruptly. ”But Bloodfest has been fun, I admit. I much preferred the cooking competition to the sled race they had last sweep.” Sinter laughed nervously and rolled his attention down to his menu. He didn’t want to be unprepared when the server came back.

”S-So… Did you enter any of the competitions?”  

[Sypon]

Aandes smiled primly and absorbed Sinter’s words. His – Tamiya, her name was – seemed like a handful. If he could angle his method towards relaxation and calmness, perhaps the redblood would feel more at ease. Currently it seemed as though both of them were on pins and needles; it was fairly obvious. Hopefully he could obscure his own anxiety.

“Oh, dear,” Aandes laughed. He swept his hand across his hair at the mention of the clown and grinned widely at mention of the cooking competition. Taken by surprise, the genuine smile at mention of cooking brought an immediate answer to Aandes’ mind. To let Sinter off of the hook and give him a rest, he pawed at his menu with renewed hunger and pored through it.

“Oh, yes! I was entered in the cooking competition as well; I’m a bit of a food junkie myself. Desserts, mainly, but anything pleasing to the palate is fine with me.” He chuckled lightly and tapped the menu a few times in thought, “I doubt I’ll place, but it was, ahem – certainly more appetizing than last sweep’s eating contest. Talk about losing your appetite.”

The greenblood quietly read over the menu for a moment, feeling the atmosphere at the table. He attempted to let the air settle between his comment before casually settling down and laying his menu down flat. “Do you do much cooking?”  

[seekingCylem]

Sinter was beaming. ”Certainly not as much cooking as the competition called for! Well, at least not for as many people as that.” Sinter laughed. ”I think I did pretty good for myself, knock on wood. At least I’d assume as such based on the number of dirty pans left in the wake. Ugh. I pity the competition staff…” Sinter shook the unpleasant thought of doing all those dishes from his mind.

”I’m actually more of a baker. It’s a stress relief for me. I enjoy the methodical nature of combining the ingredients for the right texture and feel.” Sinter nodded, content with his explanation. ”I must say I was a little disappointed when I found out the cooking competition was more about quantity than quality… though I’m sure I’ll feel much less disappointment if I win a trophy.” Sinter smirked.

The waitress returned to the table and Sinter reflexively straightened his posture. He hadn’t been paying as much attention to the menu as he probably should have. ”Coffee, please,” he announced as his go-to order. ”Aaaand… I’ll try the carrot cake, if you don’t mind.” After all the corn syrup Sinter had accidentally consumed that week, he needed to remember what real sugar tasted like.  

[Sypon]

Yes. This was good. Aandes enthusiastically took a gulp from his water and refilled it, absorbing Sinter’s words. “Ohh! Fantastic! I’m particular in terms of unique combinations. The abstraction of flavor and the sense that it can give you beyond the typical palette. Ironically I used to run a little ice cream cart around Four Fronds, and –“ Aandes snorted. “I am sure I can taste the difference between Artifical Alternian Red 1 and 13 now from all of the junk I injested. It’s a miracle I didn’t fry my taste buds,”

He grinned and flushed. “Good luck to you!” Aandes tipped his water glass to Sinter and mirrored his straightening as the waitress appeared next to them. He didn’t even see her coming, oddly enough. Worse still, Aandes had forgotten his order that he’d had memorized since before Sinter had walked in. He tried to reclaim his thoughts, but instead… Aandes had to wing it.

“Ohh, an iced coffee with raw sugar for me and the vanilla custard tarts, if you please. Thank you.”

Aandes followed the waitress out and returned to Sinter, shrugging. “Sweet tooth,” He remarked effortlessly.  

[seekingCylem]

Sinter cocked his head as he imagined a younger Aandes peddling ice cream. It was such an idyllic thought. Sinter smiled, nodding to Aandes in approval of his order.

”I can’t say I’ve ever been to Four Fronds, though I’ve heard wonderful things about it, of course.” Sinter took a sip from his glass of water. He could feel himself relaxing into the conversation. There was something about small talk that was very calming. There were no curveballs, no emotional probing. They were just going through the motions of polite conversation like the classy gentlemen they were. Sinter found himself wishing he had local friends he could have more outings like this with. He hadn’t exactly been much of a social butterfly throughout his short life. Sinter had been feeling good about himself lately, though, and it was making Aandes’ friendly overtures much easier to believe and reciprocate naturally. It would figure self-confidence would breed self-confidence. Sinter supposed even if he couldn’t have these kinds of casual outings with Tamiya, their moirallegiance was still helping him live the kind of life he wanted.

”I’m from the desert, by the way,” Sinter offered before he could become too lost in thought. ”We’re big fans of frozen treats. I can only imagine how well-off you’d be if you’d grown up in Chittentown. Of course a cart would be a hell of a lot trickier to deal with on the canyon roads.” Sinter chuckled. ”You’d end up well-off financially and physically, I suppose.” Sinter covered his mouth out of amusement and embarrassment. He was being silly. This was a silly conversation.  

[Sypon]

Aandes’ eyes opened wide. A troll dressed so properly who had never visited Four Fronds? He balked. Even though Sinter was the lowest of the low, he simply had to have had an escort take him at some point. Aandes threw his hands up. “I hate to be brash, but you simply can’t miss it! I would love to show you around if you’re ever in town; we’ll take the food tour!” The greenblood chirped. “There are dance studios, theatres, lovely forms of entertainment,”

He was counting off the different features on his digits. With an emphatic tap, he remarked, “The Imperious Coliseum has also had a recent remodel if you’re a fan of watching gladiaterrors go at it – that’s a crowdpleaser, and not to stereotype but I would imagine it may be a fantastic sell for your moirail. You did say your associate was your moirail?”

Perhaps Aandes had just picked up on that fact earlier based upon Sinter’s speech. His memory was bizarrely lacking right now, and it was starting to put Aandes on edge. He reminded himself to keep track of what Sinter was saying, absorb it, and then use it later. Yes. Okay, he was from the desert. Right. Had he told him that before? Damnit. Where was he going with this?

Aandes wasn’t paying attention to the rest of Sinter’s comment because of his attempt to play mental catch-up. He simply laughed along with Sinter when he did, and cleared his throat. “Chittentown, eh?” Aandes thought back to the drought and suddenly felt the need to take a drink of water. It was still a sore subject.

Fortunately, their orders arrived promptly. Aandes thanked the server and looked over his treats. “Mmm…” He was at a loss for words. Aandes just wanted to stuff his face.  

[seekingCylem]

Sinter felt his shoulders tense at Aandes’ reaction to never having been to Four Fronds. For a second there he thought he’d said something wrong, but quickly noted how excited Aandes seemed at the prospect of showing him around. Sinter loosened up with a relieved laugh. That all did sound like a lot of fun. There weren’t a whole lot of cultural activities in Chittentown, at least not for the less academic and technologically-minded.

Sinter perked up again at the mention of Tamiya. ”Y-Yes, she is. I’m sure I must have mentioned it previously. If not, it’s probably quite obvious from how much I talk about her… We’ve been close since childhood.” Sinter developed an embarrassed smile as he mulled over Aandes’ assumption. ”Ah ha… I’m sure she would appreciate the pomp and circumstance of it all. Bloodsport’s hardly a turn-off either. I’m actually quite interested to see the combat myself--”

Sinter cut himself off abruptly as the server returned with food and beverages. He thanked the server and moved to place his napkin in his lap before setting to work putting creamer in his coffee.

”My… Charming presentation on these desserts.” Sinter commented, fondly regarding the icing on his slice of cake.  

[Sypon]

“Absolutely,” Aandes remarked. He set to work on one of his tarts and his eyes rolled back into his skull. “You just have to give Civisect credit for taste… Mmnhh…” He mumbled. Aandes dabbed the crumbs away from his mouth. “Not as much culture here yet with how shiny the city is, but I swear they’ve transplanted some of the finest Four Frond patisseries here. Can’t beat it,”

Highbloods really did know how to make a damned good piece of sweets. Aandes washed down his first bite with a sip of his coffee (delicious). He was focused now. Back on track. Food energized his thinkpan. What could he get from this redblood? He was the moirail of an incredibly highblooded troll, of course.

“Does your moirail intend to become a subjugglator? How about you – do you have military goals, off-world perhaps? I hear it’s an excellent time to get one’s foot in the door before we’re able to return to our intergalactic objectives. Particularly for trolls who would not normally have such an opportunity,”

He prodded. He had to plug at Sinter’s mettle some time. If he was fine being a lackey or a well-dressed secretary, Aandes might not be able to get anywhere. There simply wouldn't be much of a point to pursuing him. In fact, he might be a bit disappointed in his new acquaintance. He really wanted a reason to keep conversing with him.

seekingCylem

 

[seekingCylem]

Sinter used the edge of his fork to slice off a piece of his cake. Mm! Moist! Sinter closed his eyes as he savored his first bite. He was always a sucker for cinnamon. It took him a moment to reorient himself in the conversation.

”Mm, Tamiya?” Sinter spoke around a sip of his water before moving back to his coffee. His cake would require his full attention. ”Yes, Tamiya is very proactive in her beliefs, as I’m sure you could tell from the booth. I’m certain subjugglation is in her future. Even without my assistance she’s far more organized than the average juggalo.” Sinter mulled over his use of the word “organized.” Yes, he supposed that was the correct term. Disciplined. Devout. Aggressive.

The thought of Sinter’s own ambitions gave him pause. He watched the cream swirl around on the surface of his coffee.

Having found his words, Sinter returned eye-contact to Aandes. He was more guarded, but not necessarily towards Aandes. ”I haven’t put much consideration into it, to be honest. It was never really an option to me until I became moirails with Tamiya. Even then, I’m not keen on the idea of taking advantage of her position to further my own. Lowbloods in quadrants with highbloods get stereotyped with that enough as it is.” Sinter was reluctant to admit it, but a significant part of himself wanted to use Tamiya’s rank as an in-road to the top. However he never wanted to allow Tamiya the chance to believe he was using her. Even the thought of Tamiya thinking that he would think that brought him disgust. ”My relationship is my priority. As much as I would like to make a name for myself,” to put it lightly, ”There are a considerable number of hoops to jump through in order to become a redblood of recognition. For the time being I’d like to keep my dignity and tenuous relationship with my caste in tact.”

They weren’t the words of idle small talk, but they were Sinter’s feelings regarding his situation as politely as he could phrase them. The hemospectrum would never let him become noteworthy unless he aspired to align himself with the extremely narrow specifications of the perfect redblood. Even then the likelihood of being credited as anything other than “a very good redblood” was extremely slim. Unpowered lowbloods like Sinter were a beetle a dozen.  

[Sypon]

Aandes was not as disappointed as he thought he might be. His worst fears appeared to have been realized: not only was Sinter unlikely to be a contact to pull strings from his palemate, he had no intentions of climbing through the ranks. However. There was something else there – Sinter’s elegant speech and matter-of-fact phrasing was soothing for Aandes. There was something he was missing (there had to be) and he would find out what it was. Perhaps it was that Sinter’s words were in alignment with how Aandes might interact with the situation, or perhaps it was that Aandes was projecting himself into Sinter’s position. He had the sneaking suspicion that there was, indeed, something going on behind the curtain.

“Ah, I see. More of a behind-the-scenes worker, then? The caste system what it is, I understand your dilemma.” Aandes took a long draw from his coffee and tapped his chin in thought. “It’s a shame though; you’re clearly bright, dutiful, and with your moirail you carry immense responsibility as it is. What a tragedy that there is no recognition for someone of your caliber.”

Aandes shifted, suddenly pulling his wallet out of his pocket. “Have I given you my card? I’m a producer, public relations manager and agent, and while I specialize in media and businesses I’d love to help you out in any way that I can. Lessen the number of hoops you need to jump through – soften the lines between red and purple – whatever you need if you anticipate breaking into a public work environment,”

He smiled. There was a slim chance their business would overlap, but keeping this level troll in his sights was at least worth it to see where he’d go. There was potential that he could feel, and giving him his number was – well… It was certainly beneficial.  

[seekingCylem]

Sinter took another bite of his cake as Aandes replied. Aandes could never really understand his situation, Sinter thought coolly. Midbloods seemed to think that way all the time, though. Sinter could hardly fault him.

”More like if I want recognition as an individual it needs to be on a case-by-case basis so as not to make waves with society at large. Thank you, though. My plan is clearly working.” Sinter winked at Aandes to lift the dark cloud he feared he was casting over the chat.

Sinter’s eyebrows raised as Aandes produced his card from his wallet. Aandes struck Sinter as rather young for such a complicated networking job. He was impressed. Sinter put down his fork and gingerly took the card from Aandes. He examined both sides of the card before tucking it away in the breast pocket of his vest. ”Th-Thank you! I’ll keep you in mind. I’m afraid I don’t have a card of my own...” Sinter could feel his face heating up beneath his already reddened cheeks. It would be incredibly tacky to give his number to Aandes on a folded-up napkin…