Sickly Seadweller

((This takes place after Eisire and Rubedo's 1st and 2nd conversations, after both of them have met Theiyw, and after Eisire has met Aryane))

She'd gone to bed feeling perfectly fine. She had changed into her sleep shirt (which used to be white but was now stained greenish colour) and pajama pants, slid into her recoupracoon and read a few chapters of her book before falling asleep. She had started sleeping in her above ground cottage-hive, just to change things up. It was several hours before sunset when Eisire woke up. Her stomach was churning, and her head felt like it was no longer attached to the rest of her. In seconds, she was out of her recoupracoon and in her bathroom, emptying her stomach into the toilet.

As evening arrived, she was still curled around the toilet, her head throbbing. Her throat burned from throwing up, and her stomach muscles ached from the effort. Miserable, she checked her palmhusk, wondering who she could moan to about to her predicament. BE was online, and her water and sleep deprived brain settled on the most logical conclusion- he had told the deities of eggs that she had teased him and this was her punishment. That made complete sense. Half delirious, Eisire began to pester her rust blooded friend.

AA/BE 3rd convo

Her dragon, who had happened to be sleeping in the living room that night because the older five were picking on him, was on its way to pick up BE. Curling up a little tighter on the cold floor, she grabbed her bath mat and tugged it over her, before passing out from sheer exhaustion.

Being who he was, getting close to other trolls had its consequences. Most of these incidents he didn't feel specially keen on remembering now, the past was in the past and all that, but eventually he chose to be left alone. And he was ok with it. But eventually he found himself talking to some random trolls on trollian and it quickly escalated. It was like he had pushed some weird friendship doomsday device, because from that day trolls only kept contacting him. And he, being his dumb unlucky polite self, kept on contacting them back because it just happened that all of the new trolls he knew were high-blooded and either elite or royalty. If, like AA said, there was a glob above, then he was pretty sure this particular deity hated him with a burning passion.

If he had never befriended anyone in the first place, no huge dragon would've come into his window late at night, scaring his Phoenix lusus to the point where he then proceeded to burst in flames. Several countless minutes of a lot of dicking around and getting little to nothing done on the pressing matter, he managed to knock him down with a stray china figurine (sorry for that, Fathenix!), settle the fire down with some water while carefully avoiding the white flames that kept his lusus alive, and then riding the dragon. He really didn't want to piss off the creature of a thyrian blood.

"This is why meeting people over the internet is dangerous" He mumbled to himself as he rode the dragon and let him guide him to something that seemed like a little island some time afterwards. Oh, well. That wasn't so bad. It was just a little cottage. So apparently his net friend wasn't really bad or greedy or anything that used to be associated to high-class trolls.

The landing was a bit on the rough side for his taste, but then again, he was a sculptor and chef, not a fricking dragon rider. He came down from the scaly animal and approached the front door, attempting to open it. And just as AA stated, it was open and inviting him in. Setting a foot in it suddenly downed on him that yes, he was in fact about to meet someone he meet a few days ago and whom he only talked to via trollian. It was also worth noticing that never before had he been expecting to meet her. Or anyone for that matter. This all was making him more than just a little nervous but, insisting on keeping his sanity, he denied his true feelings from himself, passing it out as being just careful of whatever was ahead, just in case it was a trap.

"Eisire? Are you around here?"

The insides of Eisire's cottage were tidy, aside from a trail of sopor slime leading down the spiral stairs in the corner and into the bathroom. The lights were all turned off, the bathroom door open wide. The cottage was rather open, the only door being the bathroom door and a door a few feet to the left of it. This door led to tight spiral stairs, which eventually gave way to the top most spire of her underwater castle.

The dragon stretched his wings and laid out on the beach, enjoying the moonlight. Eisire's fearsome lusus, DragonMum, was fast asleep in the depths, recovering from her injuries.

Eisire stirred, feeling cold and quite horrid. She did not feel like her stomach was attempting to escape her body, so that was a plus, she thought. Her hair was tangled with dried sopor in it, the consequence of not washing it off as soon as she got up. Attempting to move or get up, however, made her head pound. She was searching for something else to use as a blanket when she had heard a male voice. Hoping it was Rubedo, she responded.

"I'm in the bathroom, also known as my final resting place." Even projecting her voice hurt.

He saw the trail of glowing green sopor slime that conducted him to one of the open doors, where the voice seemed to come from. He faintly recalled Eisire complaining over being stuck in the bathroom barfing her soul out or something like that. Well, maybe not her soul, but anything. Eisire's voice was a lot gentler that he had imagined, and had a bit of a funny accent to her. In earth terms, it would be british, but given how he lived in Alternia, he knew nothing of the sort and it just came out as something that identified seadwellers apart from landwellers. Although he had seen movies and listened to songs, he never expected that myth to be real.

He rolled his eyes just a bit when he heard her overdramatic response, and was again thankful to his lusus for making him curious about cooking. Most of the times he got sick it was because he mixed something poisonous in the food, either way, but maybe this was her first time being sick. He hurried to the bathroom, stopping near the door and knocking. "Eisire, I'm here. And you're not going to die. I'm about to come in, ok?" And so he did.

She was... quite a mess to put it gently. Double horns getting her the sopor dried in her hair even more tangled, her gaze getting lost somewhere in several floating points in space, not to mention she stinked a lot and the pink that covered her and indicated her hair color seemed rather dull. But maybe that was just his own perception of sickness. He sighed and stepped behind her, rubbing circles in her back. "First we need to let it all out. How much did you eat?"

Thinking back to the night before made Eisire's head pound. There was most defiantly a marching band parading around her skull. "Um... I had three eggs yesterday morning... and a sandwich at lunch... and... ugh I can't remember what I had for dinner..." Just talking about food made her empty stomach churn. Using what little energy she had left she quickly sat and hurled for the... how many times had it been? She couldn't quite remember. Once her stomach seemed to quiet, she slumped, her cheek resting on the seat of the toilet.

"I's not even food its just fuckin' bile..." She was too tired to care anymore. She felt like absolute shit. On the plus side, Rubedo's hands were quite warm and comforting. She blindly reached out for the box of tissues she had long dragged down from the counter top and wiped her mouth. She sat slowly, her head and muscles protesting the movement, and dropped the tissue in the toilet before flushing.

"Ok, if it's just bile then that means you can control it, so it's ok. Come on, let's get up." He replied softly, attempting to make her stand up. Being on her knees and surrounded by awful odors wouldn't help her condition at all. "Let's take you outside for a walk and some air, and if you feel like puking again, breath in and out and think of something else, ¿Ok? Think of dragons or something."

Very, very carefully, since she seemed a ragdoll that had been filled with foam, he lift her up, quickly leading her to the outside. He was assuming he'd had to clean that disaster later, but well, maybe asking wouldn't hurt? She was a seadweller and he had no idea how their lifestyle was, after all, but didn't some of them have like butlers lusus butlers or troll slaves or something? "Hey, do you have anyone who might come and check on you? Or to at least clean up? You'd feel a lot better in a clean environment."

Or at least that's what he hoped, though. Fresh air always helped him at least.

She groaned when she felt herself being lifted up. Her head continued to ache, the blood quickly rushing to her head. Walking sucked, but breathing in the fresh air was nice. Dear sweet glob her head hurt worse than the evening after she had tried a spoonful of sopor. She still felt cold, the sea breeze was making it worse, but Rubedo was very warm. That's all she could seem to focus on, was how warm he was. Were his clothes made out of electric blankets or something? Her thoughts ran in dizzying circles, dehydration scrambling her mind.

"I have two drones to do dusting and vacuumin' and shit but I clean the bathrooms and kitchen." She pressed her hand to her forehead, trying to contain the pulsating inside of her skull. "My fuckin' head..." She was too tired and miserable to move. Each swallow hurt, forcing its way down her raw throat. But her mouth was dry, and swallowing seemed the best way to add some moisture. "Can we go back inside now? My legs don't wanna work..." As it was, Eisire was clinging to Rubedo for support.

Drones. A magical word which effect was to make the rustblood currently supporting Eisire groan very, very softly, barely a whisper. As a troll who was nearing adulthood with absolutely 0 quadrants filled despite having lived a total of 8 sweeps (which also meant he really couldn't find anyone on that time, not even a matesprite for the easiest of all four queadrants) all of his life, he wasn't specially keen on meeting them. Maybe he'd just be really careful with the cleaning. He had to touch nasty food and clay on a daily basis, a little bit of puke couldn't do much for him. Hopefully.

"Of course, let's go back in" He agreed as he helped her inside her hive. He'd have to take her of her for the rest of the night, he could tell so much. Gently, or as gently as could do someone who limited his contact with the outer world, he put her to rest in the coudh. "You're feeling weak because the only thing you didn't puke was pretty much your soul. A bit of water and soft food for your stomach to digest should help. Can I use your kitchen? Where is it?"

Once on the couch Eisire pulled one of the cushions towards her, pressing it to her stomach and curling around it. She pointed in the general direction of her kitchen, which wasn't too hard to spot since the cottage had an open floor plan. The kitchen was very simple, with a fridge and stove, along with a few other appliances. Most of it was tucked away in the cabinets and cupboards.

"Are you sure I didn't bring up my soul? I'm pretty sure its now somewhere in the plumbing with everything I ate over the past sweep." The mention of food and water did manage to make her slightly less miserable. "Can you bring me some pain meds as well? They should be in one of the cabinets. I can't remember which one..." She rarely used this part of the hive, she didn't really know where anything was. Come to think of it, she didn't know where her youngest dragon, Phobee was. Last dawn she had settled herself nearby Eisire's recoupracoon. Eisire was surprised she hadn't gone in search of food yet, which mainly entailed finding her caregiver (Eis) and crying until she was fed.

He headed for the kitchen as soon as her finger pointed in its direction. Poor Eisire, she looked really miserable and pale right now, food poisoninng was something to be careful about when you weren't sure how to cook. But really, an egg? When she asked him for advice on how to cook it, he wasn't expecting advice-coming-from-zero.

After two failed cabinet attempts (although he DID find glasses, so not everything was lost here) he opted for just opening everything around and looking for whatever was inside them. God he hated being in a kitchen that wasn't his, everything would be weird and the utensils would be all mixed up or something, not to mention he never was sure where he could find whatever he'd be in need to- Oh look, pills. Painkillers. Atta boy.

He filled her glass with water and reached over to the spot where she was resting, gently placing both water and painkillers in the table next to her. "There, I found water and painkillers. I don't know if you have bread or rice, though, It sure would help your condition." He said, looking at her in expectation. Please, please, let there be bread and rice... Rubedo was always slightly insecure about his cooking skills whenever he had to feed someone else, and often had to conceal his worries with a smile, acting like it wasn't even something that worried him. He definitely didn't want to bake her bread from scratch right now.

Eisire slowly sat up, wincing as she did. She swallowed the pills, trying to drink the water slowly. With half an inch of water left in the glass, she dipped two fingers into the water and rubbed it on her dry gills. She sat back, her head resting on the back of the sofa. She held the cushion to her stomach, like it could ease the ache in her muscles. "I should have both in the pantry. And there should be a rice cooker somewhere." Rice was a constant in her diet that she usually had a pretty good supply of. Rice seemed to pair well with everything, and added subsistence to an other wise small meal made of sea-plants.

"There should be a hot water bottle somewhere in there, if you come across it can you fill it up and bring it over?" A hot water bottle always seemed to take away her aches and pains. If it was particularly cold, she would take one into her recoupracoon with her. She would also give them to her hatch-lings to cuddle with.

Speak of the devil.

Phobee was now awake and hungry. She tumbled down the spiral stairs, wailing in a way that sounded very similar to a wriggler crying 'mum!' The dragon saw Rubedo first, puffing her self up and spreading her wings and hissing at him. In an adult or even adolescent dragon, this would be quite fearsome. But in a youngling barely larger than a domestic meow-beast, it was rather funny. Phobee caught sight of Eisire's horns and scrambled over to her, crying for food. "Pheebs... Can't you wait a little longer?" Phobee whimpered and whined. "Rubedo, could you feed her? There's raw fish and meat in the fridge, just feed her some of that and she'll be satisfied."

Somewhere among the last 24 hours of his existence he made a choice that sent him on the point of no return. This is why you don't talk to strangers on the internet, this should be why things must have gone entirely wrong for him. Ok, so maybe being a grub-sitter of sorts wasn't the Worst Possible Outcome, but he was still not fond of the whole "butler-troll-island" experience. So now he was not only in charge of making rice for Eisire, but was also charged with the additional responsibility of making food to... whatever that thing that just stepped in was. Dragon? Talking dragon. Talking baby dragon. Exotic talking baby dragon which belonged to his high-blooded.... friend? He guessed. They were most likely friends now, catching someone's back while they were bending over a toilet, miserable and puking, kind of made it hard not to.

But seriously he had no idea about animals. Sure, he cooked with dragon meat before, cook with fire, as in dead dragons! He didn't take care of them, for sweet almighty dragon meatdrums!

"Oh, alright. Feed her meat and fish then. Wait, does it have to be raw or cooked? And how much of it should I tare out?" He asked as he moved to the kitchen. He... he'd have to work without an apron this time. The thought made him slightly dissapointed, but resigned to it either way. He moved around the kitchen fluently, filling a pot with water to put on the stove, opening the fridge to examine its goods and extract the baby dragon's meal (just in case, he took the whole dump), and then heading to the cupboards, looking for rice. He'd rather be caught dead than helpless in a kitchen.

He placed the rice at the pot's side, and then remembered about the warm water. Filling the bag up, he closed it and approaches Eisire, giving her the requested pain reliever. "Also, do I have to warm the meat up in any way?"

Eisire smiled at him and cuddled the hot water bottle. "Thanks. And you don't have to prepare the meat in any way for Phobee, just give her something about the size of your fist and she'll be happy. Ok, maybe cut it up a little bit." Phobee had changed her opinion about Rubedo the second she saw him take out the meat. she watched him intently, eyes wide. Eisire laid back down on the couch, curling around the hot water bottle, feeling slightly less miserable. Maybe after she ate she would feel up to taking a shower.

The kitchen was very clean, albeit a little disorganized. A large vine plant sat on top of the fridge, and a dozen of small pots of growing plants lined the windowsill, a spray bottle sat in the center. On the table was a basket, half full of plants she had foraged for cooking. A cutting board had been left out on the counter, with seaweed and other sea-plants laid out to dry.

The tiny baby dragon was now following him around, interested in the food more than in himself. Yeah, ok, it was weird how some dragon knew better than some trolls the kind of treatment he deserved, that of a nobody, but whatever, he could work with this. On the side of cold food he wasn't so sure. Maybe this was some sort of weird special dragon that ate cold meat? Maybe it had super hot blood, why not. Scavenger beasts ate cold food all the time and they didn't mind one bit, maybe Eisire was trying something like that or whatever. He couldn't think of any reason of why anyone would want a dragon which ate cold meat, but hey, he wasn't the best at thinking outside the box. Yes, he tried new recipes, but he would hardly call that being creative, there were just some things that worked in kitchen and others that didn't.

"Oh, so there isn't any problem for her to eat cold food? alright." He answered before fully concentrating on the food, carefully avoiding the various plants and vines around her kitchen. With his luck he'd probably manage to kill either of those by, sniffing them or something. Anyway, he buttered up a pan and, using knifekind, he quickly slashed the meat in various tiny parts, being careful not to cut himse- oh godammit the hot butter jumped on his cheek, making him quickly step aside while rubbing it. "Ow dunt, that hurt!"

Cautiously, he took the meat and offered it to the baby dragon, glaring at the frying pan as he did so. These things didn't happen in his kitchen, but this was not his kitchen. The game was SO on. Bring it on, kitchen. "I fed your... dragon, Eisire. Now hang on a bit, I'll prepare your dish next".

Phobee took the meat from Rubedo's hand, promptly dropping it on the floor. She patted at it with a claw, much like a cat with a toy, then sat down in front of it. She leaned in close and took it in her mouth, and made noises which sounded quite like coughing. She dropped it and picked it up from a different corner, the other side slightly cooked.

"Don't worry about it being cold, Pheebs is figuring out how to breathe fire, and she learned how to heat up bits of food with the little sparks she can create." Phobee was quite clever, she had seen the older dragons heat their food and had copied them. By now she had sufficiently cooked one of the pieces to her liking. She chirped at Rubedo once she finished eating it.

The kitchen, in spite of Rubedo's mental challenge, continued to remain a collection of inanimate objects.

Eisire perked up at the thought of food. "Rubedo, despite the fact I practically dragged you here, I really appreciate you taking care of me." She should definitely do something nice for him, maybe she'd send him some herbs and such from the seafloor that were nearly impossible to get your hands on in any landdweller's market.

He contemplated as "Pheebs" took care of her meal herself with no problem at all with it being cold, as he believed earlier. In no time, he guessed, she would be old enough to hunt for her own food, if she could already do this. While he prepared the rest of the preparations so that rice would still be soft for her stomach, but somewhat tasty, he wondered what Eisire would do once she reached that age, but anyway he guessed she already had a backup plan, were that the case. But that only gave him the reasurance that the tiny dragon would be alright by herself as he struggled with the new kitchen. How nostalgic, this reminded him of the time he first tried to cook at some kitchen that wasn't his own. He couldn't remember the exact circumstances though.

The dragon chirped, he glanced at her with a confused gaze. "Don't look at me. Her idea, I don't know about the rules in your home" he whispered, and then he raised his voice a little bit, so that Eisire would hear him while he washed the rice and put it to lightly golden up on the frying pan, moving it quickly with a spatula and avoiding little drops of hot butter that insisted on trying and reach his skin, because what were the odds, really? "Oh, no, don't worry about it! You are sick, it's understandable and ok. Oh, but maybe next time you cook eggs, make sure no transparent film is over the whites? because that means it's not ready yet, I'm sure you wouldn't want to be ill again!"

The rice was almost ready now. So he dumped in the soft sauce he had prepared, based on butter, water, and just some herbs, the ones he was very sure would help her stomach feel better, and let it boiling on a soft point. He decided to troll PT on his phone to pass the time, and also, to notify someone where he was, just in case. "Your rice will be done in a few minutes, Eisire." He said.

Phobee watched Rubedo curiously. She could smell food, she just couldn't tell where it was coming from. Quickly, she climbed up his leg and back to sit on his shoulder, peering into the pan. The dragon chirped at the burgandy blood again and licked his face, trying to get him to give her some of what he was making. Her tongue was a little rough, like a meow-beast's. Phobee, unlike her many older siblings, practically demanded to be spoiled. She'd hatched more domesticated than Eisire would have liked, and would probably never grow out of her princess phase. The other dragons didn't seem to care that the young-ling got more attention, and would often bring her to Eis when the baby began to pester and bother the others for attention. She was a pretty little thing, with perfect white scales that seemed to shimmer in the sunlight, a dazzle of colours playing across her back. The horns on her head and the spikes along her back were black, like onyx. The only colour to her were her eyes, a deep tyrian with purple flecks around her pupils.

Eisire groaned, "Don't worry I won't have that problem again. Because I am never eating eggs again in my entire life. Which is a pretty fucking long ass time." Eggs were evil. She'd probably hurl the ones she had left at a passing ship just for giggles. The prospect of food did lighten her mood, it smelled rather nice.

In any other normal circumstances, he would've reacted at Phobee's curiosity, specially since she seemed so adamant on climbing to his shoulder to peek over him. He could feel (very faintly) her claws over his shirt, and the roughness of her tongue licking on his face. But this time he was entertained by something else, also known as his phone. He wasn't expecting his conversation with PT to go quite like this so fast already. To be honest, he wasn't expecting this turn of events at all. Well, this really was strange. Was it his imagination, or everyone was coming together to terms or something like it?

Wait, didn't he see something like this in his dreams, before? That one time his lusus set his recuperacoon on fire, so he had to sleep out of it until he could get himself a new one? If he could only remember... and he wasn't, uhm, exactly fond of sleeping out of his recuperacoon again. Nightmares were specially dreadful on times like those for some reason.

But he wasn't going to know anything just sitting here. He turned off the stove once the rice was fluffy, and served it on a plate with a fork. He would ask Eisire... he had to ask Eisire, at least. He came out of the kitchen, moving carefully in case Phobee wanted to stay in his shoulder, moving towards where his friend (it felt so weird to think of her like that, really) was resting her stomachache. "I brought you food, Eisire. Have some rice, it will do you well." He commented as he moved the plate towards her, and then casually added while looking at his nails, like it wasn't really his intention or anything: "And PT sends her regards. She's quite worried about your state of health. I didn't know you knew her as well."

Phobee stayed perched on Rubedo's shoulder, her eyes on the rice. She switched to his other shoulder, chirping. Turning a little, she started sniffing Rubedo, trying to remember his scent for future reference.

Eisire sat and took the plate from him. "Thank you, this smells really good." She took a small bite and smiled. "It tastes really good too! You'll have to teach me how to fry rice, I usually use a rice cooker." She ate slowly, not wanting to disturb her stomach by eating too much all at once. PT... Who did she know on pesterchum that goes by PT... Oh poisionusTrap. "Oh Aryane? Yeah I met her a little while ago when I went to shore. I'll have to message her later and catch her up. How did you meet her?" That was too much of a coincidence. Rubedo had also met Theiyw, who she had met previously as well.

Eisire patted the spot next to her on the couch. "Come sit next to me!" She put her fork on her plate and grabbed the remote, turning on the TV and switching it to the movie-player. "We are going to watch the Little Seadweller." It was her go to movie for anything. Bored? Watch the Little Seadweller. Tired? Watch the Little Seadweller. Sad? Angry? Lonely? Watch. The. Little. SEADWELLER.

Yes, such a coincidence, actually. He took special interest in her dialog as she explained it all. Because both of them knowing two completely different persons was too much of a coincidence to-

"Eh. Eisire? Did you just... nevermind" He said as he went over to sit at her side, taking his phone along with him. He wasn't that fond of watching movies, although he could see why she wanted to watch that one in particular, he wasn't exactly excited on the idea. But either way he guessed he had no option, she was the sick one after all. He sat at her side, keeping more or less his distance since he wasn't a big fan of physical contact either, trollian open on his phone, looking at his contact list. So PT was still online, then. But TF wasn't, and it was a shame, because that would've been an interesting conversation.

He opened up the conversation window with PT, and looked at Eisire "Ok, PT is online. I think I'll message her and let her know. Do you have any...?"

And then he paused. Because one blink was all that it took for him to suddenly see Eisire with a missing arm, covered in blood, her chest strangely deinflated, one of her sides charred by something...

He didn't react. He was quite used to these kind of visions already, actually (although it was usually charred, burned corpses, and Eisire's was different for some reason, but he guessed not all of them would be the same). But it didn't make them any less unexpected, and just like that, it was gone in the next blink. He breathed in and out, slowly, from his nose, keeping himself calm and reminding himself to not freak out. Even after all this years, he wasn't really sure if he was seeing their imminent demise, or what would happen to them if they stuck with him any longer. He was really really hoping for it to be the first option.

"...Message for her?" He concluded with a smile, trollian still opened up, calm like nothing had happened, aside from his brief pause in speech. He had been living with that since he was a small grub. He knew how to act and pretend by now.

She scooted closer to Rubedo, looking over his shoulder to glance at his phone. "Uh, I guess just say that I'm fine and that she should stop worrying about me!" Her arm brushed against Rubedo's. Wow he was really warm. By now, she had finished eating and was feeling a bit better, but rather tired. Throwing up one's guts does tire one out. Eisire set the plate down on the table. "I'm cold!" Phobee, now that the food was all gone, had crawled down Rubedo's arm and was now sitting on the coffee table, huffing. Little smoke puffs came out of her white nose every so often.

Eisire tugged on Rubedo's sleeve. "Rubedo," she said, yawning. Not sleeping was getting to her head, and quickly. She felt half drunk almost. "Rubedo. I'm cold cuddle me! Please?" She stuck her lip out and did her best pout.

What. Oh no. Cuddling was more than always a terrible idea, not to mention an awkward experience. He was definitely not going to fall for that one, no matter how much barfing and puking was involved. He could cook for others, he didn't mind. And he was really stretching the limits now, what with making friends with seadwellers and highbloods like it was nothing at all. But he wasn't fool enough to just drop a bomb on the safety line and walk into the area like nothing, just because they were friends now or because she was pouting. He knew better.

So he chuckled, but politely shook his head from side to side, declining. "As much as I appreciate you as a friend, Eisire, I have to say no to that. I'm really comfortable with how we are now and have no interest in pale misunderstandings, nor have I ever been pale for anyone before. If you have a pale crush, I'm sure you'll appreciate this later in the future."

Just so she wouldn't feel bad or something, he kind of petted her head, not enough for it to become a shoosh-pap reflexive movement, but enough to maybe, hopefully, keep her happy. "Now let's watch the movie, please? If you feel ill just tell me. And if I misunderstood your gesture, I apologize, but I feel really better with how we are right now"

Not to mention. He had never ever felt anything conciliatory before. Not now, not ever. He was starting to think he was a robot... and, seeing how those dead visions wouldn't leave him alone, he still had a lot to do, to take advantage of his lack of feels, to get to the core of them. He couldn't get distracted right now, he felt like something important had yet to happen.

Her head spun as he talked about pale crushes. She was too tired to process this. "What? No I don't feel pale for you, Rubedo." In fact she was feeling rather pale for a certian blueblood. Or was it a flushcrush? It changed with the hour she couldn't discern what her feelings were for Theiyw. "You are just really warm." She yawned, slumping back on the sofa and watching the movie through half open eyes. Before the little seadweller had begun to sing 'part of your world', Eisire was asleep, her head lolled back against the sofa. With a little mumble in her sleep, she shifted, her head rolling onto Rubedo's shoulder.

Phobee had settled herself onto Rubedo's lap, curling up into a perfect shoulder and quietly napping. Her little chest slowly rose and fell with her breaths, the tip of her tail twitching contently.

She fell asleep rather fast.

Also, apparently he was warm. Huh, maybe it was because of all of those ovens. Seriously, his house was particularly warm on the months Alternia decided to get closer to the big and apparently red sun around it. Maybe his body was already used to copy heating mechanisms like those.

Great. Now he was trapped. Now what? Pester PT? It was his only option available, yes, at least for the moment. But as he began to type, he dozed off. Oh no. No, he was not falling asleep. Not here. It was dangerous, he didn't want ANYONE to know anything about his nightmares... oh who was he kidding, he didn't want to have one of those either!!! And using her recuperacoon was just plain invasive.

It took him half the movie to very, very, VERY slowly, set Eisire to rest on the couch along with her dragon, trying to not wake her up. Not even the slimey and slowest beasts on Alternia were this slow. And then he headed to the exit, looking for the dragon that had brought him here. This was an emergency. He had to go home, RIGHT. NOW. He'd take thw consequences of leaving so suddenly later.

That was the dragon. Please let it be tame. "Hey" He whispered to him. "She's better now. But I really have to go home, it's an emergency. Could you get me there? Please?" He pleaded. Practically begged.


-- blazingEntropy [BE] began trolling poisonousTrap [PT] --
?.- Sorry, PT, but I have to go. Let's talK a°Fterwards. Have a ni°Ce dinner.
-- blazingEntropy [BE] ceased trolling poisonousTrap [PT] --

Sent.

Eisire continued to sleep quietly on the sofa, completely unaware to Rubedo's absence. Phobee had stirred slightly when she felt herself being moved, but soon nodded back off once she was comfortable again.

The dragon with scales as black as the night sky watched Rubedo with colourless eyes. He stood and stretched, yawning, before lying back down and nudging the troll towards him with his tail. Once the lowblood was sat on his back, he stood again, unfurling his massive wings and rocketing into the sky. After landing gently at the base of Rubedo's hivestem, he laid back down again so the troll could dismount. The dragon sniffed him, wondering if he had any treats or snacks on him.