thecapitol | (no subject)

Who| The Psiioniic and YOU! Plus the Initiate.
What| The Psiioniic is in the Capitol. Humans are both disgusting and fascinating, and he has a horrible sweet tooth.
Where| The Capitol! Typically near shopping areas.
When| Todayyy.
Warnings/Notes| The Initiate being a violent, creepy clown.

Closed to the Initiate

The Capitol is large and bustling, and the Psiioniic isn't quite fond of it. He's gotten far too used to being alone, with just the stars and space bending around him to be used to anything like this. He stays close to the Initiate, hoping the large, imposing troll will help keep others away.

And he does, for the most part. Or at least the Psiioniic can believe he does, and it gives him a small comfort. He can focus on the objects around him, stopping at a few small shops so he can pick through things with the Initiate by his side.

Open

The Psiioniic has found heaven. Or, well, something close to the troll equivalent.

He's standing in a stall selling a variety of honey and other sweets, and he looks baffled. He's holding a sample spoon, the woman behind the stall looking nervous as he stares at her blankly. He keeps bring the spoon to his lips, chewing on it briefly before asking for another sample.

If someone doesn't stop him he's liable to eat all the honey in the store, and if anyone gets close they'll hear him making odd chirpy noises and see him blinking rapidly. He's just...he's very confused and conflicted over the honey, and he needs help.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He doesn't realize Neffa is talking to him for a brief moment. He's...well, he's confused. What he's eating tastes exactly like the few spoonfuls of mind honey he's eaten - mostly unwillingly - over his life, but. He's fine. His pan doesn't feel like it's about to explode, the stall hasn't been obliterated. He's not sparking at all.

He turns to the man, blinking twice as he pierces yet another sample spoon on a fang. He chirrups something, before flushing. He forgot Alternian wasn't spoken here and rushes to correct himself. "Jarth? I'm not really thure if it would be a good idea to buy any."

So much for seeking an understandable answer. Buying honey, in Neffa's view, is one of the more harmless things it's possible to do - simple hesitation he might have bought, but caution?

"There's something to be said for jars," he says, putting an easy smile over his utter lack of conversational footing. "They're easier to eat out of, for one thing-- no more massacre of innocent spoons." (He regrets his word choice as soon as he says it, but clings doggedly to friendliness, because it might win him some ground on which to stand.)

The Psiioniic snorts, motioning at the stand with his spoons. "I thuppothe you eckpect me to lick it up?" He sticks out his - bifurcated - tongue, wiggling the tips separately.

He pops on of the spoons back in his mouth, chewing on the plastic for a moment. "Though I thuppothe it would make thenthe that thith planet'th weakneth eckthendth to it'th beeth..." He's talking more to himself then Neffa now, but hey. Not everyone can be worth his time.

...Gods. He's glad when the tongue disappears, as it robs him of his ability to do anything but stare in something between disgust and awe.

He's starting to regret having begun this conversation. He considers making his excuses and bolting, but he still hasn't bought what he came for. He wrenches his eyes away from the troll's face and clears his throat with pointed urgency at the stallkeeper.

"Are the bees so different where you come from?" he asks the Psiionic, and save for the too-casual half-step away from him he's taken, there's no reason to believe the question is meant any way but politely.

The Psiioniic is going to count that half-step as a victory. He's so tired of humans, and the thing he despises the most is how they treat him and his kind like some sort of beast in a zoo. If he can offend some humans delicate sensibilities because of his appearance, than good. Maybe they'll stop seeing him as a fashion statement.

"I would imagine, to make thuch different honey." He taps his temple. "The honey on Alternia hath very nathty thide effectth."

The honey in Ristopa is a little sourer than what he's found here, but it's still just honey-- in Neffa's opinion, it's harmless almost by definition. He rather wonders if they're operating under different ideas of what honey is.

"It seems a strange thing to have come into the Capitol to buy, then," he says, with what he hopes comes off as sympathy.

Neffa, you just keep taking so many wrong steps in this conversation. Though, granted, he's volatile enough that there's really not many things to say that are "right".

"I didn't come out to buy thith. I jutht thaw it and wanted to know if it'th the thame ath mind honey." Maybe he wanted to see if he could escape. Or, you know, repeat exactly what he did in the arena.

The question Neffa wants to ask is why, knowing full well the side effects, the troll would choose to seek it out in the first place; but going with his first instinct hasn't helped him even remotely in this conversation so far, and he scraps that in favor of half a minute's actual thought.

It's the stallkeeper who saves him. She puts the neatly-wrapped pastries on the counter for him, with an only slightly pleading look, and he pauses before he hands her his credit card to look at the Psiionic. "Well! If the honey here does you no harm, then you've been missing out-- have you tried one of these yet? I've heard they're excellent."

He titters, biting clean through the spoon. Spitting the plastic on the ground, he shoots Neffa a blank look.

"I can't thay that I have, thir." The sarcastic "obviously" is left out, but still apparent in his tone. "I haven't heard much about them, either."

He does not flinch, and that is a victory. "Ah! Then please-- allow me to treat you." He beckons to the stallkeeper ("Another one, please"), and pins on a really valiant facsimile of a friendly grin. "We can try them together-- I've never had one, either, and a second opinion would be most welcome."

Make a good impression if it kills you, he gets about halfway through thinking, but the decapitated spoon lying on the ground ends that train of thought rather quickly.

Not a particularly exceptional one. But the Psiioniic isn't about to turn down free food, so he nods at Neffa. "I've never heard of making pathtrieth with honey, though trollth don't normally make that many thweetth."

Which isn't something he's ever understood. He could understand not using mind honey because of it's side-effects, but there had to be something else to make things sweet.

"Well, so long as you're here, you may as well-- ah-- partake of the culture, right?" He proffers the pastry handed him by the stallkeeper, and takes an encouraging bite of one of the ones he's just paid for.

His acquaintance hadn't been lying about the pastries. They're light, flaky, sweet but not overpoweringly so; he'll have to bring back his compliments. (He'd be enjoying it a little more if he weren't hanging with more anxiety than he'd care to admit on the troll's reaction.)

He really doesn't want to partake. He's sullen and bitter and it's probably the only thing about him that matches his appearance, because he's far older mentally compared to physically.

But he does nibble on the pastry, and it gets completely shredded by his teeth. It's obvious he wasn't mad like humans were, with teeth that tear and grind, and that he's more like some sort of carnivorous beast with teeth meant only to tear and damage. A giant, carnivorous insect, really.

He has to admit that it's pretty nice, pretty damn delicious, and he looks pleased as he devours it.

Maybe, just maybe, he's going to be able to salvage this. Neffa keeps a smile on, and uses it cover the uneasiness that the movement of those teeth provokes. He does his best not to envision them in the arena - to picture them tearing at a throat (at his throat, and no, that's stopping right there). Small wonder the troll finds human language difficult to navigate.

"No nasty side effects, I hope?" he asks encouragingly, widening his smile, because that is most definitely easier to deliver as a joke.