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C'est La Vie.
“And if they can’t deal with that, then they can just c'est la vie,” Alanys drawled with far too much confidence.
“That’s not...You’re definitely not using that right,” noted Klelia.
The brunette huffed. “Life is too short to worry about silly things like semantics, Klelia. We must live in the moment! We must do as the French say, and c’est la vie!”
“I - Oh whatever,” groaned Klelia. She turned her attention to her iced coffee, using the straw to stir the remainder of the caramel into the mix. Alanys took a sip of her own beverage - a hazelnut latte with an alarming amount of sugar. Klelia noticed her friend’s hesitant, interested glances towards her person and rolled her eyes. She’d been friends with Alanys for long enough to know that she couldn’t hold in whatever she was going to say for much longer.
“You look... different. Hair cut?" Alanys asked cautiously. Her small legs swung above the floor. Such was the sacrifice she made whenever dining out in public with Klelia - a half-Goliath.
"I lost an arm,” Klelia replied bluntly.
Her friend released a sigh of relief, "I know. The hair cut thing was a farce. I just didn't want to be rude…” Her eyes met Klelia again, curiosity officially piqued,”But since you brought it up, what the hell happened to you?"
Klelia took a long sip from her straw. She could be direct with Alanys. After swallowing her sip of coffee, she opened her mouth and muttered, “Gelatinous cube.”
Alanys’ responding shriek pulled the attention of every patron in the small cafe. Klelia felt her neck and face flush as she waved off their concerned glances with a grimace.
“A GELATINOUS CUBE? YOU LOST YOUR ARM TO A GELATINOUS CUBE?” was Alanys’ completely unnecessary bellow. Klelia slid down into her seat to avoid the new stares. As much as she loved her best friend, her public theatrics regularly made her want to stab herself in the eye. She’d told Alanys this, once, and the other girl had the nerve to call Klelia a drama queen! Pot, kettle!
“If you’re done announcing my most recent trauma to everyone in the city…” muttered Klelia darkly, just loud enough for Alanys to hear her.
The brunette simply waved her hand in Klelia’s direction. A rudimentary gesture indicating Alanys’ belief that Klelia needed to ‘shush’ and ‘get over herself.’
Again: pot, kettle.
“You’ve been super casual about it until our conversation. It’s very...
“That’s not...You’re definitely not using that right,” noted Klelia.
The brunette huffed. “Life is too short to worry about silly things like semantics, Klelia. We must live in the moment! We must do as the French say, and c’est la vie!”
“I - Oh whatever,” groaned Klelia. She turned her attention to her iced coffee, using the straw to stir the remainder of the caramel into the mix. Alanys took a sip of her own beverage - a hazelnut latte with an alarming amount of sugar. Klelia noticed her friend’s hesitant, interested glances towards her person and rolled her eyes. She’d been friends with Alanys for long enough to know that she couldn’t hold in whatever she was going to say for much longer.
“You look... different. Hair cut?" Alanys asked cautiously. Her small legs swung above the floor. Such was the sacrifice she made whenever dining out in public with Klelia - a half-Goliath.
"I lost an arm,” Klelia replied bluntly.
Her friend released a sigh of relief, "I know. The hair cut thing was a farce. I just didn't want to be rude…” Her eyes met Klelia again, curiosity officially piqued,”But since you brought it up, what the hell happened to you?"
Klelia took a long sip from her straw. She could be direct with Alanys. After swallowing her sip of coffee, she opened her mouth and muttered, “Gelatinous cube.”
Alanys’ responding shriek pulled the attention of every patron in the small cafe. Klelia felt her neck and face flush as she waved off their concerned glances with a grimace.
“A GELATINOUS CUBE? YOU LOST YOUR ARM TO A GELATINOUS CUBE?” was Alanys’ completely unnecessary bellow. Klelia slid down into her seat to avoid the new stares. As much as she loved her best friend, her public theatrics regularly made her want to stab herself in the eye. She’d told Alanys this, once, and the other girl had the nerve to call Klelia a drama queen! Pot, kettle!
“If you’re done announcing my most recent trauma to everyone in the city…” muttered Klelia darkly, just loud enough for Alanys to hear her.
The brunette simply waved her hand in Klelia’s direction. A rudimentary gesture indicating Alanys’ belief that Klelia needed to ‘shush’ and ‘get over herself.’
Again: pot, kettle.
“You’ve been super casual about it until our conversation. It’s very...
