The Interview
Tronto asked Tehau and Nehau, over the comm, if they would come to be interviewed. They'd come, but with Dehau. He had called them twins twice before so they figured he was making the same mistake. He then cracked what seemed like a joke, about wanting to talk about Dehau behind her back.
Nehau countered with a joke of her own, "We're coming, but to beat you up then." She and her sisters laughed, finding him odd, but not so different from a lot of people they'd encountered. Their hopes were high that he'd make a chill buddo. He had been a blast at the brawler's guild.
They arrived in a flurry of mechanical chirrups and the grinding of new gears, sky golems lowering out of the mist in unison. They went indoors. Tronto stood in the center of the Tavern in the Mists, a feral form on the carpeted floor. He shifted out. Patrons went about their usual business and he suggested the hot tub as a place to conduct the interview.
The triplets, intrigued at the thought of the contraption, agreed to go check it out. They found it to be filled with hozen slapping the water with their filthy derk slinging hands. No way in the world were they going in there, and probably not even if it was empty because people had a way of getting the wrong idea when it came to hot tubs.
Tronto had been acting fishy. More serious than he had seemed at their first meeting. Maybe interviews made him nervous? The triplets tended to make fun wherever they went and they thought of interviews as a way to get to know new buddos.
So he asked them the required questions. What did it mean to be Grim? They answered with their usual gusto.
"The Grim is the Mandate!" Tehau began.
"The mandate is peace through annihilation!" Nehau continued.
"That means killing pinkers!" Dehau clarified cheerily.
Tronto immediately claimed that their answer sounded very robotic. The triplets smiles faded. It was going to be one of -those- interviews. Robotic? Sometimes in life people take you for different from what you really are. So they quickly expostulated.
Accustomed to being accused of robotry at least once on the daily, they figured it'd be best not to let it pass. If they let something like that through their net without protest it tended to grow on the other side. "Robotic!?" All three were incredulous.
He said it didn't seem like they felt the answer they'd given in their hearts, but what did he know? The triplets had meant every word. He needed his hearing checked if he thought they sounded like posers, empty of any true conviction.
After he'd conceded the point and apologized, the topic turned to other things. Like whose boots were by the hot tub, left to sit in a lump? Whose mug, the size of an orcish helmet, rested solo on the post? He seemed to ignore their conversation, and remained on the track of the interview.
The hozens continued their splash-fest in the burbling waters nearby. The sun was breaking through the mist of the mountaintop and the birds of Pandaria were making their usual calls. It was an easy place to relax.
He asked them how they fought for the Grim. They answered. "We battle, we fight pinkers. We do what the Grim asks us."
He asked if their views ever differed. They clearly stated no. He asked if it ever affected their personal lives. They clearly stated no.
Once that was over, he allowed them to interview him in return, stating that it was only fair and that he would be an open book. The idea of unfettered information gathering seemed like a glorious gift and they excitedly began to shoot off one question after another.
His favorite color? Voidness.
Was that black? Blue-black? Nope. More clear. They wrote it down.
Was he crushing on Lilli-puppo? Nope, no crushes. He liked to flirt and he liked how she flirted back. He claimed that he flirted with everybody and that he was good at it.
He had no best buddo.
Who was his favorite Grim? He liked the triplets but Nehau was his favorite. He thought she had the sparkliest eyes. Nehau was annoyed at the suggestion that her eyes sparkled at all, but whatever. He could have his opinions.
Did he polish his hooves? Yes every hour.
They wondered if he was lying but he held up a bottle of hoof polish to prove his case.
What was it like having three fingers? He loved it, and thought it was weird when people had more.
The topic bloomed and they found out that he bit his nails.
Why? To avoid nervous eating.
Why? So he wouldn't be weighed down for flag running.
They advised him that he should just work out more so he could enjoy every second of his time, pointing out that they'd only be living this particular life once. He flexed and said he was in good shape.
He cited blackout anger issues. His mother had taught him to channel his rage. He wanted to fight the three of them. He was a guardian. The sort of bear they'd have to whack repeatedly to take down. Didn't seem like an awesome way to spend the time, whacking at a boulder until it toppled.
Fortunately for all involved he had to rush off on mysterious business. The mention of mysterious business hooked their focus. Dang that made them curious. Could he say what it was?
Can you keep a secret? He wondered.
Yeah, prolly.
Sure, maybe.
Uhhh, yeah!
He said that was good to know, but declined to share the secret.
His time was dwindling. He asked if one of them would fight him in front of the inn. They shared a glance with one another. This was the third time he had tried to separate them. It was eerie but they shrugged it off. Dueling in the open was a move long years of Grim life had trained them to avoid.
They left him in the backyard of the inn, wished him luck with his mysterious business and set off northward to find more fun. The experience was something they'd sort out later. Would he make a good buddo? Or was he a creeper? Time would always tell.
