[PRP] Gasconade of a Ecclesiastic [Punkie + Kaldru]

[Micillia]

The most charming of Juggalos have such a wide vocabulary that some would even call their talk spurious.
(AKA gobbledygook)

 

[Micillia]

Punkie had learned from her time being a short child, she had learned that big, flashy, and in your face was the best way to go for attracting attention. The juggalo yelled a holy word as she stepped back, away from the firework she had just lit. To be fair, they were ones she had managed to hide away from bloodfest. She may be a mighty juggalo, but her funds were still that of an orangeblood, so she made do with what she could. The juggalo grinned widely as she watched the ball of gunpowder and potassium nitrate fly into the air and let loose a burst of bright lights. The juggalo looked at the miracle, her eyes big and dreams. "BEHOLD!" The juggalo yelled, a sparkler in each hand. "This is one of the ******** MIRACLES that our MIRTHFUL MESSIAHS have bequeathed upon us worthless wiggler slimes!" Punkie took a moment to catch her breath. "Let their shitnasty MIRACLES condemn us to a ******** life until we join their fantastical carnival in the hereafter."

quiet delegation

 

[quiet delegation]

Though he'd been working on paying more attention to his surroundings, fireworks were not on the menu of things he had anticipated while wandering that night. He'd already bothered a group of adults and stopped for lunch, and he was contemplating whether he should try and catch a ride back home overday or simply stay the day away from his hive when the bright sparkle of burning material caught his eye. More than that, though, was the raucous yelling that followed, which had the curious blueblood jogging towards the source of it.

What he saw confused and intrigued him; while he had seen plenty of juggalos pass through when he visited Four Fronds, he'd never spoken to them personally, having been warned off by his lusus due to their "unsavory attitudes". Yet each of those had been higher bloods than he! The little troll didn't even know that lowbloods could be in the cult (knowing little about it to begin with), so after a few cautious moments he couldn't resist approaching her slowly, despite the angry protests of the scaly termite sitting on top of his head.

"Was that your firework?" he asked rather lamely, not quite knowing how to breach conversation with someone for a change!

"Um, um, I heard you yell so I thought something um, might be wrong! It was really pretty though! I didn't think there were even any left after all the fireworks they set off at Bloodfest! Um, oh yeah~ Hi! What were you telling about? Are um, are you okay?"

Kaldru grinned as he caught himself rambling. He hadn't meant to, but it usually got trolls talking to him at least!

micillia

 

[Micillia]

Punkie took the question and ran with it. That was the best strategy for a juggalo, get them to ask a question, and then go far beyond what they had originally asked. She had seen her senior juggalos even take a question like "Can you go away?" and spin it into a beautiful masterpiece "answer" full of holy words, inspiration, and juggalo imagery. "Something is very ******** wrong!" Punkie chanted. "The Messiahs bring those who ask what ever s**t they might need to express their capricious love!" She had actually stolen, and then hidden them away during bloodfest. But it was with the Messiah's will that she had managed to find them again. She had been quite influenced by the joys of faygo that night, and her memory was hence altered. She went up on her tip toes, to add a few more precious inches to her dismal height. "This noisome planet is overwhelmed with the unholy sins our fellow invertebrates enact. Im talking about the ******** blasphemy that is acted on every night! Why is it so that our ******** brothers and sisters are flogged by the s**t that is their earthly urges and pains. When a troll could be the ******** savior for their capricious siblings on this rock of dung, they instead shun us cunts and revel in the dastardly filth they so enjoy." Punkie threw the flaming sparklers behind herself, uncaring as to where they would land, and got up close in the blueblood's face, lowering her voice. "Why, my wiggler viscera, why dont they shed their blasphemous acts and instead choose a true path. A path of immorality." The juggalo looked into the other's eyes, looking for an answer.

quiet delegation