Storytime at the Stein
“Hi, Miss Lovely!” said M’zikuh cheerily as Honey B. Lovely dragged herself through the doors of the Neon Stein once more. She felt a vein in her forehead twitch. How on earth was this woman so cheerful every time she came here? With that damned smile and eyes that glinted whenever she saw something she liked–
She shook her head to clear it and plopped down a few seats away from M’zikuh this time so she didn’t have to look at those fucking beautiful eyes.
“My usual, Melly, please,” she said, pointedly ignoring M'zikuh even as she scooted down a few seats to sit closer to the fighter.
Melancholy gave Honey B. a knowing smile as she slid the glass full of pulque towards the Arcadion fighter. “You know, you two keep showing up at the same time…if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re doing this on purpose, Honeybee.~”
“I dunno what you’re talkin’ about, Melly,” she said stubbornly as she downed the contents of the glass. Truth be told they had fallen into a sort of comfortable routine, much as Honey B. hated to admit it: she would be the last out of the two of them to arrive, M'zikuh would greet her warmly, and Honey B. would do her best to ignore both her and the fluttering in her heart as she nursed her drink, the two simply enjoying the atmosphere.
She wasn't sure what compelled her to break that routine today.
“So, the ‘Cobalt Prancer’, huh?” she asked before she could stop herself. All parties seemed to be taken aback by the question - Melancholy stopped polishing her glass, and M’zikuh’s tail stopped its idle wagging as her eyebrows raised, her gaze turning to Honey B. as her ears perked up curiously. Even the Arcadion fighter seemed startled that she broke her own silence. The pause seemed to stretch on for forever, and she was starting to regret asking.
She had half a mind to dismiss the question and slink back out of the bar and back to her apartment when M’zikuh giggled sheepishly, a faint blush forming on her cheeks that made Honey B.’s heart stop despite herself.
“Yeah…That one’s been stuck to me for a while, if I’m honest,” said M’zikuh after a moment, scratching the back of her head again, her ear twitching. “I said before that Metem kept calling me that, but that was actually something I brought with me from before we came to Everkeep.” She opened her mouth, as if to say more, but then closed her mouth, her ears flattening, tail drooping in hesitation. Honey B’s brow furrowed.
“Sorry, it’s just…You probably don’t want to hear the boring details, huh?”
Honey B. blinked, the Prancer's sudden shyness surprising her. “Wha- Sugar, I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know the details,” she said insistently, leaning forward on her elbows, her chin resting on the backs of her hands, glass and off-hand pet name forgotten. “Now come on, spill.”
M’zikuh’s expression brightened after another moment of surprise, her ears perking up. “Well in that case, do I have stories for you! So there’s this place outside the dome called Radz-at-Han…”
And have stories she did, Honey B. realized as M’zikuh regaled tales - of a vibrant, colorful city in the Far Eastern continent of Thavnair, a city of culture and spices and history. Of Yedlihmad, a port town, once destitute, now thriving as a trade hub once the nation opened up. Of a terrible calamity that befell its people, despair turning its inhabitants into monsters. Of how she would dance for its people, staving off the pall of fear with beauty and grace.
As M’zikuh spoke, Honey B. noticed something about her demeanor that she hadn't before: Her eyes seemed to light up as she spoke of the adventures she had. Her tail would wag excitedly as her ears twitched, as if the thought of her journeys filled her with so much energy she had no other outlet, and she spoke with an infectious sense of wonder and joy.
A small voice in the back of her mind noted that it was the same kind of glint that M’zikuh had whenever Honey B. Lovely entered the Neon Stein, the same joy when she walked into the room.
“...And they just kind of started calling me the Cobalt Prancer, and it stuck! So, here we are!” M’zikuh finished her story with a satisfied twitch of the ear before tilting her head quizzically. “Hey, are you okay, Miss Lovely?”
Honey B. blinked before she lifted her head up from her hand with a start. She hadn’t noticed she’d been staring at M’zikuh during her tales, enraptured.
“Uh, yeah, I’m okay,” she said hurriedly, tidying up her hair. “You’ve been through a lot, huh?”
“And that isn’t even the tip of the iceberg!” M’zikuh said excitedly, but before she could continue, Honey B.’s tomephone chirped in her pocket, and with a start and a quiet swear, she remembered she promised Obsidian they’d get dinner that evening.
“I gotta go, Sugar, I got somewhere to be,” she said hurriedly as she stuffed her phone back into her pocket, tapping her regulator to send Melancholy the money for drinks, subtly sending a little extra to cover for M’zikuh’s juice. The Hhetsarro tried her best not to look disappointed, a fact not lost on the Arcadion fighter as her emotions mirrored the other woman's.
“But…” she bit her lip, as if contemplating something, before continuing. “We should talk more, yeah?” M’zikuh’s expression brightened immediately, and she nodded eagerly.
“Yeah, I’d love that!” She smiled, then, and Honey B., irritation long forgotten as she returned the expression, felt like it brightened up the whole room with its cheer.
Some time later, after she'd said her goodbyes to Obsidian's back as he sauntered away, Honey B. lay in her bed in her apartment in the residential area of Solution Nine, wearing rather simple pink pajamas - a bit of a departure from her usual yellow and black attire - and staring at the ceiling, lost in her own thoughts. She thought back to their talk today back at the Neon Stein, when M'zikuh regaled some of her travels to her, how the Hhetsarro's eyes lit up when she spoke of the things she'd seen. Her face grew warm as her eyes closed and she saw M’zikuh’s smile again.
How did Honey B. Lovely, known diva of the Arcadion and the musical stage, go from despising M'zikuh to…this? She didn’t know what this was but it wasn't the vitriol or jealousy she felt at first…
She turned over and let out a frustrated groan into her pillow. What is going on with me?
She almost didn't hear her tomephone go off, and picked it up almost too hastily. Anything to distract her from whatever this was.
[mellyMelly]: So, “Sugar”, huh? ;3c
[honeyBee]: Shut up!
[mellyMelly]: Never! I think it's a cute nickname for Zikuh! You don’t use that for anyone else as far as I know! :3 <3
[honeyBee]: “Zikuh”?
[mellyMelly]: Right, I suppose she wouldn't have had time to say anything yet :ettobleh:
[mellyMelly]: Where Zikuh comes from, that letter is for what tribe they're from, but if you're close to one they'll let you skip it when you refer to ‘em
[honeyBee]: Ohhhh, that makes sense
Honey B. briefly wondered if M'zikuh would consider them remotely close enough to warrant this. A wave of shame made its way through her when she remembered how cold she was to the Prancer when they first met; the girl was genuinely sweet, and despite her loss of the spotlight, she found she didn't mind it shifting if it did so towards Zikuh, at least.
She liked to think having Zikuh tell her stories was a good way of rectifying that.
[honeyBee]: …Wait, you said “where Zikuh comes from”
[honeyBee]: Ain’t she a Hhetsarro? That ain’t like any tribe I’ve heard of
[mellyMelly]: ……….Oh. Oh boy. You might wanna grab something to drink, this’ll take a bit. ^^; And I ain't nearly as good at explaining things as she is
[honeyBee]: ????