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Emotion returned to Sascha's face in the form of smoldering irritation. Of course. Why would he be surprised that Forera was some kind of serial face-puncher? He'd read police blotters of weirder things. He recovered his thoughts as Aerona wobbled him back and forth by the jumpsuit.

"I, quote 'met her' unquote at Bloodfest a couple sweeps back when she was running that shooting gallery booth with her friend. Purposely ******** with almost every damn one of my shots by screaming in her terrible horrorterror voice the entire goddamn week of Bloodfest."

Sascha returned his gaze from where he'd been blandly staring at the cave ceiling as he recounted the stupid and terrible memory.

"Saw her again at the Four Fronds Coliseum in--get this--some kind of disguise. Off. Color." Sascha said the words like a curse. "Didn't even notice at first. Cold is cold after all. I just saw the horns and heard the screaming. Of course I have like several standard Alternian height units on her now, so I go over to give her a piece of my mind. I don't even get so far as 'hello,' and <******** guess."

Sascha's yellow and gray mottled face twitched ever so slightly. Had Aerona encountered him a couple of nights previously, they could have compared rivet impressions.

"So she realizes her gigantic ******** and instead of apologizing, she bolts and I follow right after because she punched me in the face. I catch her trying to book it down the street so I LITERALLY catch her with telekinesis and basically return fire, but in reverse."

Sascha mimed the event by holding his fist, pulling his hand away, and then slapping it back down onto his knuckles.

"I drop her and call her out on being a really ******** obvious wanted criminal, because damn if her whole getup isn't an insult to my intelligence. See, at this point we're pretty much even, and, like an idiot, I expect her to consider 'gee wilickers, maybe I shouldn't try to dig myself deeper with guy I wronged who knows my identity and totally has no reason not to alert the authorities?'" Sascha pitched up his voice obnoxiously in mock imitation of Forera. He hadn't been given an opportunity to vent on this matter to anyone that wasn't his lusus.

"And you know what? Here's the kicker. Here's the plot twist--the shocking swerve, the big damn surprise of surprises: she punches me in the face AGAIN."

Sascha was at risk for knocking his empty drink off the bar with his gesticulation. The ever-diligent bartender had the forethought to silently retrieve the glass as Sascha raged.

"Like at that point I probably could've straight up culled her and gotten a medal for it, but it's hard to throttle someone when you're concussed so I gotta do the whole 'I'll get you next time!' schtick like a goddamn cartoon villain so I can make it back to the coliseum before I pass out in the sun and burn alive AGAIN."

Sascha was practically winded from his tirade. He slammed his fist down on the counter top and made a ferocious grab for his glass, taking a swig without realizing the bartender had replaced his drink with a glass of water. He heaved a deep exhale of irritation as the expulsion of energy dropped him down from "irate" to just "pissed."

"I swear to Gl'bgoyl'b, Aerona, what clown do I gotta mack on to get that b***h subjugglated; I need to know."

Sascha was so caught up in his seething he hadn't noticed how close Aerona had gotten until she was touching him. His anger was tempered with curiosity. Loud, vicious Aerona was normal. Quiet, methodical Aerona was not. Sascha glanced down from the digit on his symbol, slowly moving back to Aerona's eyes. He held all the quiet attention of a prey animal, perhaps for the first time exhibiting traits of his lusus.

"Rebellion." Sascha broke out with a scoff. "Somehow I'm not surprised. Something small time, incidental, wouldn't have warranted using someone else's color and symbol. Culling offense for a culling offense. A good thief or killer could at least get hired on an indentured basis. I could give her some credit and say she's paranoid for a good reason, but I don't want to."

The gears were turning. Sascha was quiet for several seconds, which was closer to an hour in Sascha-time. "...What kind of bounty? Think she's actually done something worth dishing out beetles for? I figured a good chunk of 'rebel movement' were just flower crown-weaving peaceniks that want highbloods to stop being mean to children. She strike you as the terrorist type? You sound like you know her better, if only second-hand."

Sascha still hadn't noticed he'd been switched to water, but some part of him appreciated the refreshment on a subconscious level. He laughed breathily at Aerona's enthusiasm.

She was touching him again. Sascha looked down at the hand more pointedly this time. Was this supposed to illustrate Forera being stuck to a magnet? Sascha made no motion to comment on it or remove the appendage from his body, figuring Aerona would do it herself once she'd made her point.

"I can tell you right now, my strategy, hypothetical or otherwise, involves staying back at least several paces." Sascha flexed his free hand against his thigh. "Or at least doing a better job of staying armed." He grimaced into his glass. Leaving one's weapons at home was the classic wriggler mistake. It wasn't like his lusus was perpetually around to bail him out. Actually, that probably would have been worse. Simultaneously embarrassing and endangering the one living creature he cared about most. Sascha was more than capable of taking a few hits from that pipsqueak, metal fist or no, thankyouverymuch.

"I'll be sure to keep an eye out for her type the next government offense than needs 'retaliatin' comes up," Sascha replied, decision in his tone. "I ain't about to do her the flattery of setting out on some kind of single-minded revenge quest. She runs into me again and she deals with the consequences. Me making a few beetles for my trouble would just be karma further restoring balance to the universe." Sascha shrugged, but immediately followed up the motion with a bark of laughter. "Like I care what the 'rebellion' is up to anyway! Pretty sure the last time they did anything rebellious I was barely more than a pupa." Something about that perigee when it rained fish? He remembered the smell more than the news reports.

Sascha leaned heavily on his arm propped against the bar, shooting Aerona a sly look. "Honestly I'm surprised you're not fighting me for dibs on cuffing her to the nearest drone."

Sascha was feeling lighter than when he'd arrived at the club that night, and it wasn't just the alcohol. Aerona was the kind of troll he could ricochet his thoughts off of without fear of offense. Plotting elaborate revenge fantasies was more fun with friends. It was practically the Alternian pastime.

"It'll take more than that to wreck this face," Sascha smirked and rolled his shoulders. "I'll be pissed with myself if I don't at least set foot on the dance floor. Raw skin and muscular pain are problems for Sober Sascha." Sascha laughed despite being 100% serious about what he was setting himself up for. He wasn't about to let a few loose teeth and third-degree burns interfere with his right to party.

Sascha stood from his seat. He at least still had the presence of mind to drop a handful of beetles on the counter in his place. "You wanna make out, you'd better be able to do it to a decent beat." Sascha grinned cheekily at Aerona while taking a couple steps backwards into the crowd.

He had plenty going for him in his life lately. Compared to, what did Aerona call her? Swampslime? All the minor annoyances didn't deserve his time of night.