#plus i am too tired to make it Up to Satisfactory Gwenny Standards

[biff-adventurer]

FFXIVWRITE 2023 - Prompt #3: Extra Credit - DOLLS

“Have you heard of the new FC that opened down the road?” asked Pudada, pouring her second cup of tea. “It’s a beautiful, pink manor with white accents. There was a pool in the yard! And everyone seemed to be having a good time in it. Though, I’m not sure having a pool in the front was the best idea. What if someone peered through the gates at those poor girls?”

“Oh, they seem a hardy lot to me,” purred H’zula, picking a cupcake from the tray. “They were catcalled by one of the Unicorns. The leader suddenly appeared, as though summoned by a thought! And then the Unicorn… went home with a broken nose.”

“I like the punching one,” said Zia who, for once, was not referring to Biff. The little cabbage fairy plucked H’zula’s cupcake nearly out of his mouth. “Punching one has spirit. Punching one always smiles and never lets other walking ones anger her!”

“I’ll admit, I like a strong woman,” concurred H’zula, reaching for his pilfered prize. Zia floated up to the ceiling fan, settling on one of its wings to munch in peace. The Miqo’te sighed.

“Oh… I know who yer talkin’ about.” Biff looked up from his tomestone as it blinked its frivolous lights off. His mussed hair and state of (un)dress, along with the childlike interest on his face, suggested his need for coffee the highest at the table–except that he was surrounded by mugs, and fidgeting like an old, allagan device receiving an endless stream of commands. “That’s Barbara’s FC. The DOLLS.”

“The… dolls?” Pudada tilted her head. “I’ve never heard of them. They were a beautiful bunch of ladies, certainly! You know her personally?”

“Scruffy one knows all ones,” said Zia with a sagely nod.

“What do you know about them?” asked H’zula, suddenly so interested he was leaning forward, resting his chin on a downturned hand. “Did you used to date Barbara?”

“I’m sure I’d remember her if he had,” muttered Pudada.

“No, no. It ain’t dolls. It’s DOLLS, like.” Biff set his tomestone on the table. He gesticulated for emphasis. “Dangerous Outrageous Loot Lovers. Their leader’s name is Barbara Milicent Handler. She’s the one with the hair.” So saying, he pulled fingers through his own hair, puffing it up.

H’zula snorted. Pudada couldn’t help but smile.

“I don’t remember seeing anyone with a hair-do like that,” said Pudada, “for I’m certain I would remember her!”

“Scruffy one misleads adventuring ones!” Zia huffed. They crumpled up their paper cup and threw it at H’zula’s head. “Blonde one, with long, beautiful hair and large, blue eyes is leading one! Leading one’s hair is big, but not scruffy like scruffy one’s!”

“I jes meant she has nice hair!” Biff pouted. “She’s been workin’ hard tae build that FC. Since a’fore the Final Days. But, y’know, not just anyone can enter.”

“Ahh, so there are standards?” H’zula fished the crumpled cup out of his luxurious, chestnut hair. “Just how high have they set them?”

“I can’t get in,” said Biff. He reached for the tea kettle, but Pudada slapped at his large, meaty man mitts with her dainty, Lalafellin hands and their pink painted fingertips.

“You must tell us why,” she urged. “I don’t know a thing about them! Neither does Ayame or Leodaire or Athey! I would write S’dennmo, but married life keeps her busy, as you know!”

H’zula chuckled. “I’m sure Zia knows.”

“This one knows,” said Zia, “but this one won’t tell!”

“It ain’t nothin’ special,” said Biff, rubbing his eyes. “Make me another cup an’ I’ll tell ye!”

“You told us never to let you get the jitters!” cried Pudada. “And now you have them behind our back!”

“Alright, alright!” The mess of a midlander sat upright and stretched his arms. “I’m gettin’ restless anyroad. Barbara, she won’t let in anybody that calls himself a man.”

“That’s it?” Pudada stared.

“I can’t say I blame her,” sighed H’zula, admiring a new pastry in his hand. “Men are the worst. I would know, as a man.”

“Exactly!” said Biff, pointing directly at H’zula. “Men are the WORST!”

Pudada looked between the two men with wide, wide eyes. When her gaze drifted to Zia, they simply shrugged. Then, a pregnant pause.

“Yes,” she said. “I suppose they really are.”