One,two,three,four,five....
No, this was no owl with wide rimmed glasses pointlessly counting down the demise of a confectionery. It was the flick and flitter of tiger's eye colored orbs, Bryce doing what she could, and failing, to take in what was going on. For a glimmer of a moment she had thought that her days was going on as usual, only to have a waddling blue creature of some sort make it to the counter and 'make' on the floor. The first words that popped into her foggy mind was, "No one is gunna make me clean up that mess," even though the truth was obvious to her the moment that she spoke, of course she was, it was just an issue of when. Squinting blearily at the thing in front of her, she attempts to dissect it with her eyes. Still very much clueless she draws back a little, tears collecting at the very corners of her eyes, her stomach doing flip flops as her breakfast hit's it's bottom like a brick.
Of all days, today? Was this the universe's way of demanding that Bryce spend the rest of her days sober, or else be made a meal of by some gooey blue persecutor from the beyond?
It is time to make your peace, girl, you may well find a shred of dignity before you have to face final judgment.
Even then, any god was hard to find, as Bryce could not even force herself to mutter a prayer, or even half of one, for her immortal soul.
Hung over or not, there was nothing doing, there would be no mysteriously finding religion for her.
It was then that the unthinkable happened.....
the pod was making jolly, laughing and jittering a little as it did. Such things were normally reserved for children's books of fancy, or a sight while blazingly drunk. She was neither a child or still under the affects of the ale, so Bryce honestly was not sure just what the flipping fuck was going on.
When in doubt.....
try to make a little of a ass of yourself while scraping for some semblance of normalcy.
Rubbing her knuckles into her eyes, shifting her weight to and fro, Bryce dug deep in an attempt to ground herself; her mum wasn't going to be too happy with her if she chased off a patron, even if said patron probably bled purple rather than red. Then again she should be used to the unexplainable, when in La'marri....so the saying went.
Mid jaw drop, before she could find any words, the bubbling well of blue vomited a human head. Between fight or flight, Bryce was just seconds from taking the third option of..... faint. Head tilting to the side, another set of frantic blinks crossing her face, Bryce was struck dumb as the realization hit her: It was just a small girl in a cloak. "Yes to all of the above," said as she drags a sweaty palm down the front of her own face, giving her head a firm shake.
Lucky, lucky, lucky that the store was empty aside from herself and the poor girl that she had mistaken as a hungry creature from the depths of the forests. At least her temporarily thin skin had been saved. And for that, she was feeling rather charitable.
"Three for one special, two copper." As she spoke she put her palms flat on the counter top, forcing herself into a more solid stand. Sure, she was not the type to give hand outs in most cases, but she felt that it was owed. To cover for it she would put her tips from the tavern into the family till.
The familiar rumble of hunger hitting her ears, and not from the direction of her own knotted stomach, Bryce too laughed. "Sounds like ya've had a hard night o'ya own." After the scare of a life time, Bryce found a bit of sobriety finally. "Have a seat," She motioned to the bar stools that littered the face of the counter.
