[PRP] It's not my fault, it's your fault! (Kaldru + Tsarzi)

[quiet delegation]

Some people just can't lose gracefully.

 

[quiet delegation]

Kaldru wasn't sad.

While he'd not exactly gone into the volleyball game at Bloodfest with the expectation of winning, he'd at least expected to play a half-decent game. Sure, he'd never played it before, but how hard could it have been? The random troll he'd been matched up with seemed fit enough, yet ... They'd both made absolute fools of themselves, hadn't they? It wasn't bad enough that he kept flinging the ball straight into the air, but she had too, and all together they may as well have just slapped signs on each others' backs screaming "I SUCK." It was supposed to be a fun game, but ...

Kaldru wasn't sad, he was mad. At first he'd felt despair and embarrassment over their performance, particularly that it was in front of so many others, but as the match went on that twisted into something else. His upset and unhappiness coiled inside his chest until it was a burning knot of something he didn't experience terribly often; the normally cheerful blueblood was angry, and he had no idea how to deal with it. By the time the match ended and they had to shake hands with their competitors, his eyes were brimming with liquid, and as the two of them padded through the warm, moonlit sand to the refreshment stand, fat tears began to roll down his cheeks. He was a sniffling, sputtering mess once he finally got a drink. He was always so quick to ignore anger and hurt that when he couldn't reasonably make up an excuse of how to ignore it ... he simply didn't know how to deal.

So he dealt by crying, blubbering obnoxiously with hard-drawn brows and an irritated scowl, struggling to sip at his juice without breaking into full-on sobs. His mind raced as it tried to find some way to calm him down and swallow the upset, but there wasn't an out.

They did terribly. That was all there was to it.

"W-we did s-s-so bad... I-in front of s-so m-many trolls... I'm n-never g-gonna -- hic -- I'm n-never gonna be able t-to show my face again!" he whined, partially to himself and partially towards his partner. Was she even paying attention? Maybe if she'd paid more attention in the game...

Taki-di

let me know if there's anything you need me to change ; v;

 

[Taki-di]

Irritation still prickled across her skin like grains of sand that were clinging and rubbing between her toes. Bothersome and a little hard to ignore, but she was rather skilled at compartmentalizing and putting away frustrations, and this would be no different. Outwardly, there was no sign of the disturbance of her ever maintained cool as she retired away from the volleyball court, save perhaps the piercing look she sent her opponents as they passed.

At the end of the day though, one horrendously botched volleyball match wasn't that important. The failure was not pleasant, but it stood as an example to do better, to learn to apply her skills better, to learn to adapt. It was a sport played for fun, which held little merit in Tsarzi's view, but the actions of it boiled down to exercise and coordination. For trolls that needed that incentive of fun, a sense of camaraderie or competition, a game helped them to apply themselves. The fact she performed so poorly though was something would need to rectify.

Maybe the failure rankled her more than she even knew, already crunching the heated emotion into tiny shards she could push into her skin and leave to scab over and disappear.

It was a tie, so it's not like it was horrible, but no matter how you looked at it,
her and the other blueblood's performance was a mess. And that was on both of them Neither of them made to communicate with the other in what should have been a cooperative project.

Tsarzi's jaw clenched slightly, then released, the movement subtle and nigh unnoticeable but there. The irritation settled under her skin, carefully restrained and smoothed like untread snow, but it was stubborn and did not dissipate easy. She was intelligent and skilled and she should have been able to do better. The frustration rippled, plucking tendons like strings, making her fingers itch, but she placated the urge as she could. She was young. It was the first time she'd ever played. It was learning. You must learn before you can perform. A poor first attempt is acceptable as long as the second is good. Internally, she shook herself. Emotional reactions would get her nowhere. She needed to do better next time. That would be enough for now. Later she should examine her own actions more closely, more critically, and demand better of herself, break now what needed fixed into pieces and run them into the ground. For now, the resolution was enough. This was not the time or place.

It was however the time and place for a little post match chat. She could recall her partner slowly getting more and more upset as the game proceeded, face scrunched in foul emotions. They had both been a part of that match, and however short a time they were partnered, she felt they both failed. She could afford a moment to check in on them and help them pull them self together. They certainly seemed to be taking the outcome poorly. Frustration could certainly do that to a troll, though her eyebrows quirked as she watched the outburst unfold beside her.

"We did equally as poorly as the other team." The response was immediate, a knee jerk response to allegations against her person. Poor performance or not, it was her pass that judgement on herself. The following statement made her pause for a second though.

"If you don't care to make a spectacle of yourself, what are you doing right now?" The question was honest, but with her bland delivery, sounded like a statement. The train of thought was rather skewed. If her partner was bothered so by their abysmal display just a bit ago, how did this help?

quiet delegation

i am so sorry this took so long ;; -;; i still wanna do this rp i swear