"Good fucking luck finding one single Alternian highblood who DOESN'T think the Hemospectrum is the best thing since cloven grubloaf," snorts the troll. He pulls up his knees to his chest, tangling his fingers in the worn laces of the pair of beaten, monochromatic trainers he hasn't removed yet. "That's interesting, though."
In spite of the sharp teeth and the angry glower, the troll manages to look somewhat less threatening this way. This conciliatory/defensive posture is the only charitable gesture he's willing to give, but this seems to put other bystanders at enough ease that they stop paying too much attention to their conversation.
A long moment passes, occupied with the troll glaring at Noiz, until he's done sizing him up.
"What the hell do you want?" He says, "You gave me information," explains the troll, adding a begrudging, "Pretty useful information, actually? Even after I drubbed you with my high-tier pratfall," he grumbles, "So out with it."
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In spite of the sharp teeth and the angry glower, the troll manages to look somewhat less threatening this way. This conciliatory/defensive posture is the only charitable gesture he's willing to give, but this seems to put other bystanders at enough ease that they stop paying too much attention to their conversation.
A long moment passes, occupied with the troll glaring at Noiz, until he's done sizing him up.
"What the hell do you want?" He says, "You gave me information," explains the troll, adding a begrudging, "Pretty useful information, actually? Even after I drubbed you with my high-tier pratfall," he grumbles, "So out with it."