Camp Willow - The battle of Hotroot soup!
Characters: Jelal, Philio
Location: Camp Willow; Willow Tree, Swaying Reed Tavern
Jelal didn't know that there was a tree here! And it's a nice good tree to sit under, or slide around in the roots. But today Jelal is just being lazy, sitting underneath the boughs of the giant willow, enjoying some time off from... having time off! His tail tip twitches and he curls up a bit against the trunk. He's probably having a dream.
And here comes a Phil-boy. Finally escaping from... everything. He has a very similar idea to the other otter as he heads toward the tree. Looking behind him to make sure he isnt followed. He grins as he plops against the roots and looks up to the sky. So its kinda odd. From right in the corner of his eye he sees... The tip of the rudder, "What the?" he mutters as he looks around the tree. "Oh... Hey... Oh" he blinks as he is asleep. He chuckles quietly as he tries to slip back and rest against the tree as well. Ahh... Sleep. Too bad he decides to sleep on the twirling rudder.
"Guh... huh?" Jelal twitches but otherwise doesn't move as his tail is laid upon. He twitches it and is surprised, in his sleepy way, that it can't be moved. He sleepily pats his paws around blindly until he can grab hold of it, and... yoink!
Philio is getting nice and comfy. Ahhh.... This moss is exceptionally comfy today. He sighs and closes his eyes. Before he then ergs as like a tablecloth he is pulled right off and flops onto his stomach. He grunts as he spits out dirt, "Uggg... Hey... What the..." he hums loudly. Stupid moving moss.
Jelal pulls his tail up and holds it to his chest like a pillow. Nobody steals his tail while he's sleeping. The otter mutters something to that effect and remains curled up next to the tree... until he abruptly stretches out with a yawn and lays his arm over Phil's head. Like an arm rest while he sleeps.
Philio hums at the other otter. Getting comfy again. Though he doesn't know how it will as comfy without his tail. Odd thing to think about. He sighs and closes his arms. AND ONCE AGAIN! He is disturbed. this time. With a face full of fur from the other otter. He spits and shoves off the other arm, "Jel! Boundries man!" he snorts.
"Bwaa-huh!" Jelal snorts as he sits up, kicking his footpaws up as he swings his torso forward, looking around. "Wasn't me! Uh..." He takes a few deep breaths, blinking until his eyes fall on Phil, wide and curious as if he hasn't seen the other otter before in his life. "Oh. Uh, hey there pal! What're you doin' here?"
Philio is a bit glad he is out of kicking range as he ergs when the other otter gets up. GOOD! The arm in face disease was it for him, "Hey there buddy." he hums with distaste, "I was just going to take a little nappy. Then you shoved your arm in my face. Though..." he sighs, "It was a bit my fault. I like this tree..." he laughs a bit.
"Mmm." Jelal nods. It's the age old strategy of looking like you're paying attention but you're really not. He's already planning on going back to sleep again. "Yeah... arm in my fault. Mm-hmm." He glances up at the tree and its branches that sway like a beast dancing with himself. "'Tis a good tree. Need ta' give whoever found it a medal."
Philio groans and tosses a rock at him, "Hey! Pay attention when ima speaking to you!" Just like his mate sometimes. He shakes his head as he says, "So. You no put your arm in my face. And ill make sure not to put any crap in your nose while you sleep." he nods a bit a leans against the tree.
"Put." That's the noise of surprise Jelal makes when the rock pops him on the shoulder. He turns to face Phil again. "I was /asleep,/" he reminds the fisher. "I don't /know/ where me arms are goin' mate." He fwaps Phil in retaliation on the rudder with his tail. Take /that/.
Philio hums a bit and laughs, "I know you were asleep matey." he uffs at the fwap. He ergs and whacks him back, "Looks like we have come to an impasse." he snorts, "I want to sleep by this tree... And you to continue to sleep by this tree..."
"The only solution. Is. A contest of wills," Jelal says, staring Phil in the eye, raising an eyebrow. "I propose... we... /eat./" Because he's always hungry after he wakes up.
Philio eyes him back. But cant help but laughs a bit, "Eat?... I like them games..." he smiles as he says, "Well... What do you propose... We eat..." he pops all his claws, "I like to eat... Oh yes. Lets do this thang..."
"We shall eat... hotroot soup!" Jelal springs up like a superhero, paws on his hips. "The ultimate in culinary delights for all otter-kind. The first one to go get something to drink loses."
Philio gasps and stands up pointing toward the sky, "The ultimate battle. Of ultimate destiny! We shall do this. And my cuisine intake... WILL reign supreme!" he then points toward the inn, "TO THE PLACE OF EATING!"
"Rarrr!" Jelal exclaims, though he's not quite sure why. He dashes off without warning.
Jelal is in first, he made it first, everyone saw it! He staggers over to a table and claims it like they were racing too, slapping a paw down on the wood surface. "This table is now goin' ta' be used in a contest of willpower the likes o' which none of ya have seen afore!" he declares to whoever may be around and listening. "Hotroot soup! Double hot! On the double! Pretty please."
Philio laughs as he heads off with the otter. But Jel is so far ahead. Its no wonder he beat him. He huffs into the tavern as he joins the otter at the table, "Oh you beat me..." he snorts a bit, "Make mine a triple!" he winks at Jel. MAhahah. Top that you otter you. The barmaid at the time, Clairia, nods at the otters before heading off to get the hotroot soup. There is not many at the inn. Though those who are. Have turned to watch. Its always fun to point laugh at those who try.
"Make mine quadruple!" Jelal calls immediately after Philio. "We don't have that," Clairia answers over her shoulder. "Well, uh... make it... double triple!" Jelal says, wagging his paws. "As hot as it possibly gets! Yes, that."
Philio laughs at the otter, "Oh my. This is turning into a hootenanny." he chuckles, "Okay. The rules are simple. We both eat equal portions of gotroot at a time. The first one to..." he calls to the maid, "And one pitcher of Greensap milk" he nods, "The first one to drink the milk loses." he holds out a paw for it to be shaken.
Jelal grabs the paw, and /squeezes/ while he shakes. "Get ready ta' chug milk, Phil," he says with a thin smile, and plops down. He picks up the biggest spoon nearby. Which is a teaspoon actually.
Philio squeezes back tightly with an evil grin, "After you mate!" he laughs as he picks up the teaspoon. Then he goes for another one, "My soup is so thick with hotroot... I have to eat it with..." he holds up. A fork. The barmaid soon returns with two bowls and a pitcher of milk. The bowls are full with a redhot... substance. That's almost blinding if you look at it long enough.
"Oooh. Red hot! Just the way I like it," Jelal says, rubbing his paws happily. He digs in with a spoon. "Right then. I will consume the first bite." AWWMF. In goes the hotroot! And Jelal shakes his head, but seems otherwise unaffected.
Philio chuckles a bit at the soup. Before getting a real spoon. He waits for him to bite first before asking, "So... Dying yet?" he asks with a chuckle. Then takes a bite himself, "Mhh... Now thats good soup." he grins as he waits for the otter to take another bite. Then repeating the process... Over. And Over. And Over. Its good. Wheh. Just a little warm.
"Dying of good taste, maybe. Not heat," Jelal says, /seeming/ completely unaffected. He keeps spooning it up. Bowl is half gone now. Jelal smacks his lips. "Feelin'... a bit stuffy?" Jelal teases. "Maybe somewhat sweaty?"
Philio chuckles and shakes his head, "Nooooooope. How about you?!" Its a bit obvious that it is affecting the Fisher. Phil is not trying to hide it. Its his secret plan. He keeps up the charade nicely. He finishes the rest of the bowl as he smiles, "So... Ready for more?" he smiles and wipes his brow. Eying the milk. Evil plans.
"Al... always," Jelal says, a slight hiccup in his voice, which he covers up with a paw, blushing in his ears. Too much gives him the hiccups, it's true! "Keep it comin'!"
Philio chuckles a bit as he waves over two more bowls, "Okay... Ill start this time...." he nods a bit as he awaits for the next bowls. He smiles as they quickly arrive. He then winks, "Here we go mate!" he takes one sip and oooos, "Holy moley. Thats a good'un! Cant wait to have that milk..." Wink Wink.
"Can't -hic!- ye?" Jelal dares back, continuing to spoon up the soup. He smacks his lips again, apparently out of growing discomfort. He thinks his mouth is starting to go numb. Or turn to ash, either one!
Philio blinks a bit as they start to water. He quickly wipes at his eyes, "Wow. This is really... Umf. Whoo!" he grins. His mouth went numb ages ago! But damn. Its STILL hurts.
It hurts so good, you mean! Jelal is visibly crouch over his bowl as he finishes it up, desperately avoiding the urge to just gulp it all down and not prolong his suffering. "It's... -hic!-" He can't talk anymore. Just sip. And hiccup.
Philio is feeling very similar. But he is showing it more visibly, "Idunknowwhatthis is..." he slurs. And blinks. Almost like is he drunk. But it keeps on going. Bowl... Then another bowl. Then another. They are on 4 bowl. When Phil blinks heavily as he tongue hangs out red as blood, "Dwaaa?" he asks.
Jelal can't hold back the tears anymore. He's crying. Openly crying. Three full bowls of the hottest stuff otters can make. Now he's just... crying. At how stupid this whole contest was. "Cagh -hic!- tagh -hic- -hic-!" he exclaims. He glares at the milk, and glances back at Phil. Will. Not... GIVE IN.
Philio sighs a little bit. his tongue just lolling there. Come on mate! A DRAW IS NOT DEFEAT! He points at the milk then says, "Dwaaa? Pwese..." he groans. He cant take anymore. BUT will not give in! Just as stubborn as he is.
Oh, what the heck. Jelal sighs and shrugs and grabs the milk. He pours it onto his tongue. And cries some more. "Can't... -hic!- tasg id..."
Philio groans and quickly takes it from his paws. HIS TURN! It burns so MUCH! ITS LIKE ACID! He groans as he says, "Ooocanhavdatee..." he moans. He just doesn't care anymore. We wonders if this classifies as a burn? Maybe he can get ointment or something. He then holds out his paw, "Googob maatee..." he groans.
"Gyaaah. Nebah doin' ish 'gain," Jelal vows, shaking Phil's paw. It's a much weaker grip than before.
Philio shakes it. Its more just... Hanging there. No grip at all. He nods, "Aye... Met-ooo maaateee..." he sighs, "Ima... go jumpaindapond...and dink it..." he groans and gets up. And immediately falls onto the floor.
Jelal leans back in his chair and drowns himself with more milk... than flops into his seat to try and outlast his misery.
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