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 Posted: Fri Dec 16, 2011 9:20 pm
Zeffer snickered while the drones forced everyone to silence. He'd even been enjoying the nearby music, but it was time to pay attention now. Being a youngster himself, Regina's age didn't cause all too much consternation in him. Anyone, he figured, who could put together a speech like that and address the crowd the way she was doing had to have some amount of qualification, he supposed. Though he was not so easily swayed by the first part, he still had to give the girl props. They were all living in a dangerous new world, and it was common knowledge that just about anyone could take a stab at their new leader's life if they had a mind to do so.
Having had a front row seat during Minist and Frossa's exchange, Zeffer had gained a rather nasty sneer between paying attention to their queen's speech and watching the little freckled purpleblood b***h the fork-horned chick out. He couldn't fathom why it irked him so badly, but it did. Bossy highbloods were just about the worst thing ever. As for Regina's speech, and the revelation of the new coliseum, it served to peak his interest and curiosity. A moment of trepidation crossed his mind. He was an okay fighter, but was he the best? Did he really want to risk getting mutilated by some highblood he didn't have a chance in beating? He brushed these thoughts aside.
The opportunity to achieve or receive something awesome was far too tempting to pass up. Even if he didn't have raw power on his side, he was confident enough in his abilities to at least try. On his departure from the plaza, he made sure to give Frossa a good hard shove after letting her get a bit ahead of him. He despised such haughty attitudes, and he was glad that the yellowblood he'd nudged had at least tried to stand up to her. Once he reached the doors, he scratched his name up in messy blue letters, grinning over at Minist after she'd done the same.
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Posted: Sat Dec 17, 2011 11:27 am
As she scanned the faces around the plaza her eyes fell upon the blueblood from earlier. He was smiling at her. She smiled back and purposefully walked towards him. He might be some fun to chat to, he definitely wasn't a jerk so far. If she was going to chat someone up it might as well be someone who already seemed open to having some fun. Later she could find someone just to mess with if this guy proved to be too boring for her tastes. Maybe she could find that musician and bug him about losing his instrument? That would be fun.
Planting her hands on her hips she looked the blueblood straight in the eyes. "Yo. You excited for the battling?" Her eyes briefly looked him up and down as the words left her mouth. He didn't seem like a wimp, but at the same time he was no meathead. Eyes snapping back to his face she waited for his response. She personally couldn't wait. It wasn't that she was bloodthirsty, she just wanted a chance to prove just because she was apparently a lower caste it meant nothing. Don't let the color for your blood speak for you, let your abilities do that. This was another reason why she wanted to see the female troll from earlier get creamed. She obviously thought to highly of her placement in the hemospectrum and it would a be a thrill to see someone knock her down with skill alone.
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Posted: Sat Dec 17, 2011 1:27 pm
Frossa was at the front of the swarm of trolls headed to the coliseum. Someone had given her a nice shove right as she had been trying to eavesdrop on some trolls discussing the exact location of the sign up sheet. Before she could spin around and threaten to cull whatever lowlife had dared touch her, the small troll smashed into a greenblood. She bounced off the chubbier troll, bounding off the next unsuspecting body she collided with. Smashing hazardously through the crowd like some sort of freckled pinball, it was unclear if Frossa was actually controlling her actions or if her small frame was simply being tossed around like a ragdoll by the crowd. Either way, she seemed to be pleased with both the end result of being close to the beginning of the sign ups line and the few bruises she inflicted on random individuals on the way.
The young troll stood in line awkwardly, not used to remaining so still or being so compliant to pointless rules like how to stand in line properly. But like before, Frossa deemed it wiser to keep her elitist tendencies, (or at least, the over the top ones), to herself while in the presence of the Queen's guards. No one was worth getting into trouble with them, not even for a bite of a plump redblood. As the last thought ran through her little mind, Frossa licked her lips whilst eyeing said redblood. She was ever so hungry, and warmbloods with a bit of chunk to them always made for the best stew. However, her appetite was uncharacteristically forgotten as Frossa realized it was now her turn to sign the fabled sheet.
Practically ripping the pen out of the highblood in front of her's hand, Frossa scrawled her name out with authority. Her name was written crudely, spanning three lines meant for individual names. Grooves in the shape of her signature formed in the paper from her pressing on the pen so forcefully, marking the pages below with her name. Pleased with her handiwork and grinning ear to ear, she turned on one heel playfully and held the pen out for the troll behind her. "Here you go ~" She sang with an upwards inflection, although the fiendish expression on her face seemed to contradict. Such was Frossa.
ooc: once again left open ended so someone can interact with her :3<
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Posted: Sat Dec 17, 2011 10:11 pm
Pyre merely grinned as the cheer spread through the crowd, her satisfaction from the musician's keytar being confiscated only growing as the queen continued her speech. She certainly knew how to please a crowd, most trolls were nothing if not chauvinistic. Her smile only grew wider as the queen continued. Appealing to the masses was nice, but the speech was getting to the point, and Pyre liked where it was headed. She wasn't the strongest troll of her age, but she was plenty tough, and potentially getting rewards--fame, maybe even--for what amounted to combat practice was incredibly enticing. She didn't care about what the victory would mean for her caste, but being known as the strongest among the group of trolls that had gathered could be nothing but good for her military career.
She'd especially enjoy it, she thought, if she had to luck to go up against that. She uncrossed her arms and slowly lowered a hand onto the grip of one of the revolvers she wore at her waist as she watched Frossa verbally tear into Minist. She doubted violence would result, no one was stupid enough to even attempt it at a royal oratory, but if it so much as crossed the blueblood's mind to escalate the assault to a physical level, Pyre had 21 rounds to convince her otherwise should the security not step in quickly enough.
She'd barely had time to finish that thought when the crowds started surging towards the arena. Pyre let go of her weapon and joined in with the movement, using her build to force her way through the crowd, ending up near the front of the line, immediately behind Frossa. "Excellent." She stood a full head taller than the blueblood, arms folded stiffly until she was handed the pen. "Thank you." Polite, but terse. She held up a finger to Frossa as she leaned toward the registration form. "One second, quick question." She hastily signed her name, neat but scratchy, and quickly passed the pen to the troll behind her as she straightened up. She looked down her nose at Frossa, expression deadpan. "Is the reason you try to project a large presence to compensate for your lacking stature?"
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Posted: Sun Dec 18, 2011 2:57 am
Zeffer met Minist's gaze with his own, eyes half-shut as he smirked over at her. "Hell yeah. I guess I shouldn't be all that surprised, I couldn't tell what the hell all the construction's been for." he snickered, and wandered closer, hands buried into the pockets of his coat. The construction drones had done an awful good job of keeping the whole thing a secret. Or maybe he'd just been off wandering too much to notice! "Bet you are. Didja come far to hear the speech?" he asked offhandedly, before happening to overhear Pyre and Frossa back from where he'd just been. A short bout of laughter came again, and he looked back to Minist, grinning wickedly, rocking on his heels, fidgeting.
"Looks like Freckles is gonna make a lotta friends around here. Good on you for standing up to her." Zeffer turned to stand at Minist's side so they could both get a good view of what he hoped would build into a confrontation. The greenblood had already burned her with the first question alone, and he was eager to see what became of it. Really, the whole event ought to be fun...the thought of being able to watch the carnage really brought out the bloodthirsty side of him, he was beginning to realize.
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Posted: Sun Dec 18, 2011 9:24 am
"You're welcome!" Frossa chirped back at the greenblood, dropping her arms to her side. She cocked her head as the other troll asked her to hold on a moment- what could she possibly want? Frossa shifted her weight back and forth between her hips, bouncing lightly on the spot as she scanned the greenblood that had been in line behind her. She noted the girl seemed to be wearing some sort of military outfit- was she part of the Alternian army, or was she merely just dressed similar? Trolls weren't exactly known for their keen fashion sense, so she wasn't too sure. Either way, it meant little to Frossa. Perhaps a little more tact than normal was necessary to keep her a** from getting into trouble, but a lower caste was still a lower caste. The highblood's attention returned to Pyre as she spoke once more.
"Is the reason you try to project a large presence to compensate for your lacking stature?"
Frossa blinked, lifting a finger to her chin in thought. "While it certainly is very perceptive of you to notice when someone is a whole head shorter than you," Frossa waved a hand limply in the air, toothy grin spreading over her rounded face. "I project such a grand presence because it's befitting for a troll such as myself!" Hands on jutted hips, the highblood returned Pyre's deadpan stare with an unsettling smirk. She was superior in her own mind for a multitude of reasons, but most of them weren't something you should go on about to a member of the military. "But I wouldn't expect a greenblood to understand such a concept." Frossa shrugged smugly, her entire petite body moving with the motion. Social outings could be such fun! Making a mental note to visit central Four Fronds more often, she returned her attention to the taller troll. "Now, is there anything I can help you with or may I be on my merry way?" The sickly sweet in her voice was practically dripping.
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Posted: Sun Dec 18, 2011 10:40 am
Okay, what had she missed this time?
Abrila rubbed sleep from her eyes. The surging crowd had finally woken her up from her most recent nightmare, so she groggily took in her surroundings. Trolls seemed to be going somewhere, but where? Had she missed the entire speech already? What's going on? These and similar questions crawled through her mind like cold molasses as she slowly regained her grip on reality. She had almost woken up fully when a sudden wave of trolls swept her into the crushing crowd.
"Umm, excuse me, what..." She tried to get out, just as she elbowed painfully in the stomach. Winded instantly, she shut her mouth and grimaced against the pain, concentrating on going with the flow and catching her breath.
Why had she come to this gathering in the first place?
She thought about it until the crowd seemed to slow down. Abrila focused on the coliseum in front of the mass of trolls, and noticed a few sign up sheets. Then she noticed the crowd muttering about some kind of competition. Huh? She paused to listen a little more, much to the displeasure of someone behind her, who jabbed her forward once again. The orangeblood tripped over herself and hurried away, just to be pushed by someone else. Then she bumped into things. And so it went, until she was at the front of the line. The highblood in front of her scowled and shoved a pen in her hands. She smiled nervously, and signed the paper. Welp, it looked like she was involved in this thing, for better or for worse.
As soon as she could, she scurried off to the side to gasp for air.
Feel free to approach Abrila, guys~
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Posted: Sun Dec 18, 2011 11:12 am
"Of course I am! I can't wait for things to get started!" Minist said with a gleam in her eyes. "Yeah, I dragged myself all the way from Chittentown to hear this speech. No way was I going to miss the opportunity to see the new queen. I had heard some interesting things and wanted to see her for myself. They weren't kidding when they said she was young." As he laughed she glanced over at Pyre and Frossa. They weren't all that interesting. . . yet.
"Let her do whatever she wants, just as long as she keeps those curls outta my face." she said with a roll of her eyes as she crossed her arms. She was liking this troll more and more as they both stood by to watch the conversation unfold. Looking back at him she said, "So what's your name? Or shall I call you Mr. Mohawk?" It looked like the other highblood wasn't going to make a scene with the greenblood like she had with herself. Unless the greenblooded decided to escalate it the show seemed to be over. Too bad, Minist supposed she would have to wait until Freckles got matched up to watch her fight.
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Posted: Mon Dec 19, 2011 2:15 am
(shitty post incoming, but ******** it, it's 4 AM and I'm tired. :c )
Pyruet's expression remained stony at Frossa's display of sarcasm, though she raised an eyebrow at her claims of grandeur. She slowly folded her arms behind her back as the troll belittled her, pausing for a moment as though she were thinking.
She put her hands on her knees and crouched, making her face level with Frossa's. "You're pretty delusional, do you know that?" She leaned forward, getting in the purpleblood's face. "And though I'd enjoy proving how insignificant you actually are, I'll give you a fighting chance; maybe your luck is worth something, and we won't meet in the coliseum." She quickly stood up straight and put a hand on Frossa's head, tussling her hair like she was a child. "But no, that's it. Enjoy your night."
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Posted: Mon Dec 19, 2011 4:45 am
"You're pretty delusional, do you know that?"
If only she had a slice of cake everytime she heard that... Slightly taken aback by the greenblood's dauntlessness, Frossa challenged the girl back by shoving her own face closer. "Please do try and tell the caste system that's separated the ranks in our race for centuries that," She let out a small giggle, rolling her eyes. "Or are you so stubbornly ignorant of your own inferiority that you forget such a thing exists?" Another laugh bubbled from her throat. While Frossa desired nothing less than to rip Pyre's face off and turn her to casserole, she had to give the stoic troll credit for keeping her cool. Or perhaps she felt safe hiding behind the Alternian army- Frossa had nearly forgotten about that detail for a moment.
And it was quickly forgotten once more as Pyre's hand touched her head. Frossa swiftly slapped her hand away, scowling at her glaring impudence. "Who the hell do you think you are?" She demanded, exerting an arm in exclamation. "Are you that desperate to patronize me?" Frossa scoffed, turning up her nose. Since when were lower blood castes so bold? The nerve, to just reach out and touch someone like that. Mussing her hair was unforgivable. Simply unforgivable! She stared up menacingly through her eyelashes. "I do hope ever so much that we meet again in the arena," Frossa's scowl instantly cracked into a bright, toothy grin almost as if she switched personalities entirely. "I'll be sure to show you your place, lowblood." Emphasis on the 'low'. "Now have yourself a pleasant evening ~" With that, Frossa took a split second to smooth down her impressive drillhair before turning on her heel to disappear into the crowd.
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Posted: Mon Dec 19, 2011 10:31 pm
Well, they made it. They finally made it to Four Fronds, to see the Queen. A big ol' event Sempur was so excited for, as much as he could show anyway, but he was excited and wanted to bring Sarcel along because it was every troll's duty to pay homage to the glorious matriarch and, say, he wondered what she was like anyway. Yes, it would be grand witnessing the new empress, and his fellow blueblood should be honored he wanted to share this moment with her.
So the fact that he had to literally drag Sarcel to the speech was pretty infuriating. Especially when it had made them late, even when they had gotten a lift from that peasant Fellah. And it was there, sitting in the back fuming as that filthy rustblood whistled a jaunty tune and Sarcel had another one of her stupid panic attacks, that Sempur learned he got motion sickness. So he couldn't even yell at them because he was trying not to barf.
He had practically dived out of the wagon as soon as he felt the damn thing come to a stop, relieved to get on steady ground and some fresh air. But that was all he allowed himself, and certainly he did not allow Sarcel any more time to recuperate, sticking his head right back into the wagon. "We're LATE, Pathetic! YOU HAVE DISGRACED US ALREADY." He looked about ready to throttle the other blueblood, but for once refrained from showing her his slaps, apparently still feeling a bit ill. He straightened up and backed away from the wagon as he remembered the other troll in his little entourage. "OPIMUS. Both of you, out now, AT ATTENTION."
Sempur waited expectantly, trying to regain his composure even as his eyes darted impatiently over to the plaza. So many trolls and oh my those drones! Surely they couldn't have missed everything, not with such a large crowd still around.
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Posted: Mon Dec 19, 2011 11:06 pm
Fellah had been blissfully oblivious to much of the going-ons when it came to politics. So for him to have heard something to do with a new queen, it had to be pretty important to penetrate his mind. Still, the redblood hadn't really been planning on attending whatever shindig was going to happen; however when his mountain dwelling acquaintance wound up at his hive in a hurry and fluster Fellah was more than happy to give him and his accompanying friend a ride.
The oafish lowblood was always glad to go out and socialize, he tried to make conversation on the way. He wanted to get to know this new troll, even if she did seem strangely frightened and jittery for reasons unknown to him. However his attempt at conversation was quickly silenced by the ornery blueblood. Fellah couldn't put two and two together about the highblood being motion sick so he just whistled happily as they approached the plaza.
There were so many trolls! Fellah was taken aback by the sheer number and just proceeded to stare at the crowd, before the militaristic troll had grabbed his attention. The redblood hopped out of the wagon and went to stand at attention, "Yes sir!" just like the blueblood had taught him! Except that when Fellah stood there he just looked sort of dopey, pretending to act serious and standing erect, legs together, chest puffed out and saluting. He never did remember to suck in that gut though. It almost looked like a practical joke, except for the fact that in his face Fellah did actually look like he was trying. He wanted very much to impress and please his new friend. Even if said friendship was rather one sided.
((Alright this edit is in case I'm not here for the reply in the morning. OOCly I wish to sign Fellah up for the tournament, ICly Semp will be putting Fellah's name on the list. I don't really think that counts as a proxy since I am here and everything, just IC development. If there are any problems with this though please let me know. ))
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Posted: Tue Dec 20, 2011 12:02 am
Today was going to be a long day.
She knew the queen was giving a speech, oh god did she know. The blueblood irrational fears of even the simple shade of purple made her avoid highbloods like the plague, and naturally the highest of them all was her worse fear, biggest nightmare; sea-dwellers were her incubus, the source of all her trifles and tribulations.
No, she didn't want to hear the queens speech. She didn't give a damn about the speech, she didn't give a damn about the queen. Her and her drones could just return to their duties, wars, strife, containing the nations free-will- whatever it was they did! Sarcel Cincil was content at her home, in the bustle of the city... where all the soldiers from the war gathered, where all the highbloods went clubbing, where everyone gathered in such close proximity with each other...
Yeah okay, it seemed like she just couldn't avoid them. She was constantly trapped.
But still, the queen. She felt sick. She wasn't too sure what Sir was up too over there; he looked so angry- as usual- but something seemed off about him. He was still probably all worked up from earlier... Would he ever learn to just get up and move on with it?
Yes, he literally had to drag her here. It was a simple choice really; we're marching to Four Frounds. She said no, and gave no resistance the however god awful long he dragged her by the arm to the aforementioned destination. Speaking of which, her arm was still pretty sore, and she was still sour about the whole even- or she would be later if she even remembered (Queasy, remember), she did feel like she was going to pass out.
She would of jumped out of the moving wagon, but she knew Sir wouldn't appreciate her tactics, and she didn't feel like receiving a prompt slap to the face, even though she could probably use one right now! They cleared her head- really did! Some sort of cure-all really; she laughed a little at the thought- or at least she WOULD of if she could laugh! Which she couldn't
Nope, hyperventilation was the way to go.
And Sarce was damn good at it. With the way Sir was staring into space like that, how could she not be so put off? Not only that, but on the way here, Sir had found some low-blood who just might of been the most terrifying, intimidating, heathen that she had EVER had the pleasure to lay eyes on. Seriously the troll looked like he could just crush her so easily; she could hear the sound of her bones snapping already! Popping, snapping, rips cracking, spine creaking, radius and ulna bending and then BAM! Lungs impaled, slow death.
Christ she was having the biggest conniption right now.
...
Oh hey the wagon had stopped.
THE WAGON STOPPED OH GOD.
She was petrified with fear then, watching as the big barbaric brute left from the front of the wagon first, and then Semp shortly there after.
And she was alone in the wagon. Trolls outside- she could hear them, see them. And she sure as god didn't want to be anywhere near them.
Nope.
Nope nope nope.
Sarcel Cincil was staying in the wagon. Sir could have the worst hell of a time making her budge; she didn't even care. She could hear him calling for her already, out at attention.
No, she would rather have all the other's watching him scream at the wagon, scream at her; sure it was an embarrassment to her, but it was also an embarrassment to him; and that thought gave her some small amount of smug satisfaction.
...
She was going to die here and she knew it oh god what was she even thinking.
She just wanted to be back at home. Why did she think trying to tag along with this guy in the first place was ever a good idea?
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Posted: Tue Dec 20, 2011 3:31 am
Sempur was pleased to see Fellah following orders. Well, his posture was still absolutely terrible, but the peasant was making progress! His reaction time was good, certainly better than Sarcel's—my, she certainly was taking a while, wasn't she? Sempur felt his lip twitching into the beginnings of a snarl, but simply regarded the more obedient troll coolly. "You almost set a good example, Opimus. It's just sad that a lowblood like you is already so much better than a blueblood..."
OK yeah composure gone again, Sempur stomped over to the wagon again and tore the tarp back, seizing Sarcel and dragging her out a-goddamn-gain, having to yell because obviously she didn't get it! "I WILL NOT ALLOW SUCH BOLDFACED DEFIANCE IN MY UNIT, PATHETIC!" He did not stop after pulling her from the wagon, completely skipping over briefing, straight into action now because like hell he would let this troll ruin his day any more than she already had.
They were going to enjoy the s**t out of this event and have such a mind-blowing learning experience that would certainly stay with them for the rest of their lives and better them all as trolls if it killed him. Or if he killed them. Either way, someone would die, but it would be on his terms! Sempur did not even look back to make sure Fellah was following them as he marched into the plaza, knowing he could at least count on the redblood to know his place.
So he didn't know exactly what was going on, just sort of shoving his way through the crowd and spitefully yanking Sarcel through behind him, but Sempur caught snippets. He missed the queen's speech obviously (he dug his nails into Sarcel's flesh at that, but said nothing yet), there were sign ups for a competition of some sort, and wouldn't you know it that was a new coliseum everyone was gathering around and he was heading towards. He knew then what he must do.
Sempur finally let go of Sarcel when they got to the forms. For all the rage that had been building, he calmed instantly at the sight of the registration. This would be a good opportunity for his recruits, providence shining down on the very pen he now held in his hand. Yes, this was their chance at redemption, and Sempur would be the ones leading them to glory. He signed his name, knowing it was a name everyone would look up to someday, each lovingly written letter perfectly sized and spaced and sitting so prettily on the line like he had practiced writing it about a million times (because he had) declaring that Sempur Livora was so totally in.
And then he wrote Fellah's name sort of carelessly was that even how you spelled it who cares???
And then it was more like he was trying to break the pen in half as he sort of stabbed PATHETIC into the form.
And so it was done. Sempur turned around, a clean about-face in his combat boots, handing the pen to Sarcel. "You should sign your actual name now." He did not even look at her, gazing off into the distance in one of his self-indulgent pensive moods. "You should thank me. Now, you two may have a shot at making something of your pitiful selves after all."
((jesus you guys make me do all the work))
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Posted: Tue Dec 20, 2011 7:27 am
It wasn't like Aprife to be late to the party. The early bird always got the best information. Sadly, it also wasn't like Aprife to travel very far out of New Hemisect City for reasons certainly beyond a lack of curiosity. Getting here had been somewhat of a chore, but here he finally was. When he had heard the queen was giving some sort of speech, he knew he had to make it out. The sight of trolls milling about, talking restlessly among themselves told him he had been late enough to miss the speech, but there were always other opportunities. In a habitual motion, he went to tuck his notebook more steadily under his arm only to realize it wasn't there. Bumblesuckle had made him carry a bag this time and as old and ratty as it was, it definitely made carrying all the other things he had been forced to take much easier than it would have been.
Adjusting the strap of his bag over his shoulder, he squeezed between the crowds, headed for where most others seemed to be gathered. The yellowblood could barely see over the waves of bodies. For some trolls such a situation, being rocked back and forth by a constantly moving crowd, would be uncomfortable. For Aprife, it was like a game. There was a laughter trying to escape him as he finally pealed himself out of the mob and into a… was that a line? What was it for?
Well, now that he was in it, he felt compelled to stay. Shuffling a bit, he began to lean his snooping wherever which way seemed like it would earn him information. It would probably be a good thing to learn what this line was before he got to the front. It would save some grief if this thing turned out to be something terrifying. After a few minutes of prying, a few innocent grins, he had learned the gist of what was happening here. A battle royale. It sounded… well, it sounded like something he wasn't really interested in. Gripping at the cloth of his bag, he could feel the handle of his weapon inside.
Before he really had time to think on it further, he was pushed from his mind and right up to the sign-up sheet pinned on the door. There was another moment of hesitation before he eventually scribbled his own name down and, with a look of 'what did I just do,' stepped away from the line at the urging of an impatient highblood behind him. Sucking in a deep breath, he straightened himself out and shook his head. Now wasn't the time to worry. This battle royale would be a great excuse to gather more gossip. And gossip about so many trolls that lived outside the city at that. The grin returned, he had convinced himself it would be worth it before slipping back out into the crowds to eavesdrop some more.
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