#aisral

“Aisral can make her own coffee,” Pallia huffed. She pulled down two ceramic white mugs from a low cabinet, setting both next to him. “It's not my fault she's decided to spend the morning of one of the biggest festivals of Sandyhorn this side of anything vaguely related to 12th Perigee working,” she said.

“I feel like they are all the biggest festival,” he said. 

“Oh no. You haven’t seen this one,” she leaned on the counter to face him, arms crossed. “The night Sandyhorn celebrates the turnaround from a slaver’s plantation hellhole to a landdwelling haven for tealbloods and down. What it is now.”

He did know, somewhat. Sandyhorn was a strange location for such a city of lowbloods, existing right off the coast in a surprisingly good location for tobacco and sugar trade, even with the extreme weather. While too sandy for most seadwellers too live comfortably (most seadwellers preferred complete underwater living to anything to do with the land), undoubtedly highbloods could and once lived comfortably. He could identify it even by the architecture. And now they just...didn’t. Sure, occasionally you’d run into a cobaltblood or indigoblood, but purplebloods were unheard of, and Dontoc could count the seadwellers living there on his fingers. But he never got much in the way of a finer description for what happened and how it stayed, only that it involved multiple slave revolts and the formation of a free port somewhere in the sand bar.

“To be fair, I have not yet seen the 12th Perigee festivities, what with Careen’s ball. And the one after that - the Feast of Fools? - the two of us were out of town for a whole week.” He ran a hand through his hair, guilt washing over him in waves. He had wanted to go to those events he just had...prior engagements. “Why did you not go to her ball, anyway? I never asked. Ah, if I can ask, that is.”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “Not my thing. Can't dance. No one I like there. Drunken debauchery sounds more fun.” She climbed up onto the counter top and sat on her knees, now only just barely able to reach the top shelf. “All we have is a dark roast. That okay?”

“If it has caffeine, honestly I will be satisfied,” he admitted. “Just watching you is exhausting me.”

“Oh, uh...right.” She slowly slid off the countertop, bag of ground coffee beans in hand. “Sorry. I'm just excited.”

“As do many things,” he said.  “And normally I enjoy it but…”

She let out a short laugh as the coffee pot started up, bubbling just loud enough for Dontoc to register it started up. “When you're not running on three hours after working?”

Another wry smile, this one seen and returned by Pallia. “Something like that, yes. If you constitute what we did as working,” he said. His fins fluttered lightly at the memory of the day prior. It was working in the most technical sense. If that counted.

“As much ‘working’ as Aisral is doing right now, I'm sure,” she said. She slid into the chair across from him, making a face at the statement. “The casual version, of course. I just realized that sounded far worse out loud than in my head.”

Dontoc quirked an eyebrow. The air quotes, while not mimed out, could certainly be heard in her voice. “Mayola?”

It felt almost planned, the way the other seadweller, wrapped up in a fluffy teal bathrobe that barely covered her, pranced into the room and plopped herself next to him, sprawled between two chairs despite being smaller than Dontoc. Her mid-length dark hair gathered in wet clumps that left a trail of water droplets behind her. Aisral shuffled shortly behind, dressed in her standard pants suit outlined in accents of teal and fuschia. She walked immediately toward the kettle and started boiling water, grabbing a few teabags and ramen packets nearby it.

“The one and motherfucking only,” Mayola said.  She sniffed the air. “Oh and coffee! Perfect start to gettin’ drunk in the name of freedom.”

Dontoc had to resist rolling his eyes. Pallia didn't even bother. “You guys can have the next brew. I only put enough in for the myself and Dontoc.”

Mayola snorted, all interest suddenly gone. “Yeah, okay. Whatever. I'll just go buy some lemon squeeze juice at the festival anyways.”

“You can still have coffee--”

“I gotta meet up with Nivs anyhow. Seein’ as I'm seadwelling, I need some kinda excuse t’be down there.”

“You never needed an excuse before,” Aisral muttered, still not looking up. “Unless you feel a sudden urge of responsibility?”

The coffee pot let out a soft ding, signifying its completion. Something Pallia didn't notice at all.

“Responsibility? Nah. Just settin’ a good example for our new seadwellin’ friend here.” Mayola roughly clapped him on the shoulder, thoughts of coffee suddenly gone and replaced with Careen's warnings of volatile lowbloods roaming the streets to attack nobility and how he should stay inside.

“Uh...really? I, ah, well...from what I was told that does, that does not make--”

“Oh come off it. Mayola you're gonna psssych him out and Valeba'sss not here,” Pallia said. With a kind smile his direction, she added, “You'll be fine. Culling of highbloodsss would make the event too high profile.”

He nodded, anxiety only somewhat quelled. “Ah, yes. Right. Right. Thank you, Pallia. Which, by the way-”

“Hey wait who the hell’s Valeba?” Mayola asked. She shifted positions to only take up one chair now, but lounged as if it were a full throne.

“Valeba is my moirail.” He looked over, noticing the obvious confusion with her fins twitching violently enough they seemed to shudder and added, “You did not possibly think Pallia and I were--”

“No, course not,” she said airily. “I know Shorty’s quad situation like the back’o my hand--” he looked at Pallia for confirmation, who just shrugged noncommittally “--name sounds familiar 's all.”

“Excuse me if that sounds well ah...vague,” he said. Looking back at Pallia, he said, “Also, you should know--”

“Goddamnit!!”

Everyone swiveled their head toward the sound of the commotion. Aisral slammed down a large teacup, dark liquid sloshing all over the counter. “This is the last time I run on no sleep!”

Without missing a beat, Pallia called out, “I'm not cleaning that.”

“What even did you do?” Dontoc asked. “You were brewing tea correct?”

“Tea does not have ramen inside it!” Aisral snapped, flailing her arms about wildly.

Oh.

Dontoc couldn't resist a quiet chuckle at the angry troll in the corner, exchanging a glance at Pallia as he did so. She snickered behind her hand, but it was still plainly audible as a distinct hiss. Mayola didn't even bother hiding it, chortling loudly in the chair.

“Oh my God, I cannot believe you did it again!”

“Says the troll who is the reason I did not sleep because she just realized I am one of the only trolls in existence who actually files her claws,” Aisral retorted.

“And I'm out,” Pallia said. She stood up, leaving her mug on the table. “I'll get some breakfast at the festival. Do you wanna come, Dontoc? I'm guessing you don't have plans for the night.”

“I ah...well, yes, Careen is refraining from the celebrations,” he said. “She believes it to be dangerous for highbloods.”

Her exact words had been, “I for one refuse to partake in something so beneath myself if it's already a danger to my physical, social and mental health,” followed by chastising him for even showing any interest, but there was no reason anyone in the room had to know that.

“Princess thinks engagin’ with a hiveless troll professionally is 'dangerous’,” Mayola sneered. With a noticeable glare from Pallia, she hastily added, “But maybe she's different 'round ya, since you're not another heiress 'n shit. And still a seadweller. Ya gotta get a circle of friends like that somehow.”

“Perhaps,” he said. She probably wasn't. A little under a sweep in their relationship had soured it greatly for him, and if her lack of affection over the winter until Red Quadrant Appreciation Day in spring indicated anything, she likely felt the same. But there was no reason to dump that here. Really, breaking things off now would result in the least amount of hurt feelings for both parties. “She is quite friendly to those in her circle. All five or six of them”

Pallia cleared her throat loudly. “Uh, right. Well, whether you're coming or not, I need to get into actual clothes. I'm not gonna force you to go if you don't want to,” she said. She turned on her heel, hair swishing behind her as she started walking off.

Dontoc sighed, scurrying after her as she strode down the hallway. Was she...upset? Probably not. Pallia had generally been open with him, down to mentioning anything between her and Careen was personal and had nothing to do with him. He loved (liked, he told himself, he liked) that about her: he knew where he stood with her and never really was stuck guessing the way he was back in schoolfeeding.

Maybe he just struck a nerve. He could only imagine how annoyed he'd be if Pallia engaged romantically with someone who tormented him in his younger sweeps -- in particular a red or pale romance. Sure, he's polite enough in general and he could hold his tongue, but even he could only go on for so long talking about them before he'd have to leave the room.  

And that was ignoring the flush crush. He couldn't even imagine how the introduced variable would affect things

“No, no, do hold on! I would love to go with you. I-I, well I quite frankly, I do not know when I last went to such an event? There was one some time...some time ago. It was some sort of seasonal one. If this one is bigger, well, it would certainly be an experience,” he said breathlessly. “Also I truly am sorry, I do hope I did not upset you.”

She shook her head with a sharp-toothed grin. “You're fine. Had to get dressed anyway and Mayola always hogs the meatblock when she's here,” she said.

He let out a breath he didn't realize he held. “Oh. So it was not me?”

“Not at all.”

“Good. Good! Oh I was afraid I, ah...well...it is obvious I suppose.” He ran a shaky hand through his hair. “So ah, this festival then? Is it bigger than the one when I arrived in early summer?”

“Well yeah of course! That was the…” she stopped in place, right in the middle of the hallway, putting an enclosed hand over her mouth. “Oh God you've been here for over a sweep now and I barely even noticed.”

“You forgot about the flowers I gave you?” he asked. “Those were for our ah....well, anniversary is a bad term, I suppose, but...yes. That” 

She shook her head as she started to walk again, slower now that Dontoc followed her. “No. I remember those. I just didn't realize...huh. That long.” She stopped in front of her door, swinging the door open and stepping inside. “Guess I'm just pleasantly surprised how long you stuck around.”

Dontoc’s fins twitched pleasantly and he smiled. “I am glad I stuck around,” he said. He took a step inside, immediately stopped by a gentle hand on his chest.

“Unless Careen is somehow okay with you seeing me change, I'd suggest no,” she said, a light smirk playing on her face. “Plus I'm not sure I want you watching.”

His face burned. His gaze dropped from her and right to the floor, while his hands went to fiddle a non-existent bowtie. “I, ah, oh yes ah...right! I uh, my apologies for, well, not--not thinking and--”

“Dontoc?” Pallia said, her voice light. “It's fine. Go get dressed. I'll meet you at your room.” With a reassuring smile, she slowly shut the door as he turned away. He was only a few steps away as the door softly clicked into place.

Dontoc stopped. Something was missing. “Pallia?” he called out, hoping she could hear him.

No answer. He walked back up to door, giving a few, louder-than-usual raps so she could hear. “Pallia?”

He could hear swift footsteps, then a crack in the door as her head poked out. He kept his gaze pointedly at her eyes, refusing to even possibly look any further down and entertain the possibility she wasn't dressed appropriately. Such wouldn't be proper.

“Hm?” There was no annoyance in her voice, only curiosity.

He gave her a sheepish smile as color tinted his cheeks. “I am sorry to say, but I do believe we forgot the coffee.”

((1/2))