[PRP] Walking on Moonlite Paths (Punkie & Malice)

[Micillia]

Fancy running into you here on this nice moonlit night.

 

[Micillia]

Carver had pointed it out to Punkie, and now that she noticed it, it was a problem she had to fix. Busthind Mountain had little to no juggalos living on it. How were they living?! They must be poor lost souls, without ******** miracles or Messiahs to mourn their lives to. It was a job for a juggalo, a juggalo like Punkie. The orangeblood's blood-pumper beat to a fierce beat as she heaved her little red wagon up a particularly steep part of the mountain. She would bring redemption to the residents of this particularly morbid mountain through the power of punkins. Once at a satisfactory looking place the small troll sat down and proceeded to plant her seeds.

blackbird cake

 

[blackbird cake]

Glowering straight ahead, Malice paced one of Busthind's many trails, eyes ablaze with fury. That damned beast wasn't going to let her leave Busthind, forcing her to cancel her plan to make it to the next train to Civisect. Now what was she going to do? Throw some rocks at her neighbors? Wait... actually...

Huffing a harsh breath, Malice bent down and picked up a rock the size of her fist. Hefting it up and preparing to throw, Malice's face broke into a sneer as she aimed for some unfortunate soul's cave window when she spotted something moving in the corner of her eye. She narrowed in on some paltry orangeblood dragging along a red wagon with a certain degree of struggle. Top lip twitching into a snarl, Malice watched on with contempt. Clearly an outsider, this moron was trying to... do what now? The rock dropped with a heavy thunk.

"Hey, punkin-head!" The blueblood tersely shouted, storming over with her imperious gait. "What are you even doing?" Scowling, Malice looked over the orangeblood's "work" before her eyes slowly slid over to get a look at their face. Christ. A juggalo. Inwardly flinching, the blueblood's tentative opinion on those lot would have caused her to pull a u-turn maneuver if it hadn't been for the low tiered hue. Orange cretin. "Those aren't gunna grow here and more importantly-!" Abruptly, Malice kicked at the ground with rough force, sending a cloud of dust into the orangeblood's direction. "This is MY ground. Mine. As in, get the hell away from it."

Micillia

 

[Micillia]

Punkie paused in her work, there was aggression in the air. The juggalo stood up and grinned at the new face. A blueblood. "Why hello there my ******** sister, hows it ******** goin for ya tonight? The troll's voice reassured the orangeblood that what she was doing was important. This troll was all sorts of needing her help. The violent vocal threats, the haughty body language she exerted, it was just what Punkie was looking for. A project.

"Why im just doin ya a service, see? Every troll as fine as yerself needs a decently landscaped lawnring. Just offerin my services, ya. A pleasure ta meet the troll who owns this fine lawn ring." Punkie finished, bowing to the other troll.

blackbird cake

 

[blackbird cake]

Malice blinked, lip straight as a pin. She didn't like the way the orangeblood talked. "Your services?" Her eyes narrowed in, head slowly turning to the side to eye her under suspicion. Bowing Punkie had the blueblood frown in consideration and curiosity, then her gaze slid over to the freshly dug up ground. Nothing really looked any different. "I don't remember asking for any kind of service. Her top lip twitched. "You could definitely do better. Good thing I'm not paying you." With a quick raise of her brows and a virtually unimpressed expression, Malice rolled her shoulders and settled a small distance from the lowblood juggalo on a rock. She crossed her legs and arms.

"What is it that you're planting, exactly." She called, and after a beat, she added, "It is my ground, after all. I should know."

Micillia

 

[Micillia]

Punkie, still grinning, paused to examine the other troll. A blueblood, verging on purple, sat on a rock with a rather unpleasant expression. The blueblood was defiantly exhibiting signs that she was not exactly secure in her position, what with her attempt to further prove her superiority over a lowblood. Punkie's grin grew. This was just what she needed. A project. There was obviously something bothering this troll, some sort of sinister spirit fowling an otherwise fine blueblood.

The orangeblood settled back to her job of digging in the blueblood's lawnring. "A variety of gourd." The orangeblood replied, focusing on her task of preparing a proper home for the seed to take root and flourish. Like any rough terrain, an idea, or plant, had to take its time growing roots in order to flourish. "While im here, is there any other ******** services you would like me to attend to?" Punkie said, clapping the dirt from her hands.

blackbird cake

Sorry this took so long sad