Loppa's neck prickled, he was being watched, but not in a bad way. Otherwise the Orc's overdeveloped endocrine system would have begun to start dump adrenaline in large enough quantities to have killed Secretariat. His singing had garnered him fans already. Good! This new team of he'd signed onto had guaranteed him very little in what might be considered a long career, and even less in the way of Skull Ball. Perhaps word of him had gotten around, and Skull Ball scouts had come to see the newly signed free agent's actual work ethic and love for the game in action. If that was the case, then maybe Loppa could get back to the diamond sooner than he thought! Just as Loppa intended to turn about and continue showing off his form, and maybe even put on a demonstration of his pitching abilities - a 'umie woman demanded his attention.
Hey, handsome. Here to play ball? The puny thing was a several heads shorter than Loppa in stature, and their dimensions were completely incomparable, to Loppa all 'umies looked roughly the same but their faces, statures, skin-tone, and such weren't what Loppa considered when he gave a 'umie a once over. He was really only interested in what they were wearing as it usually indicated whether or not they had anything he could take off their corpses, or could possibly even be worth keeping alive (if not intact) for the purpose of ransom. The well traveled eye of an older Black Orc like Loppa was capable of giving a quick and accurate appraisal. Then there was always the olfactory side of things. The materials their clothes were made of, and whether or not they hid their scent with rancid perfumes and oils could also go a long way to demonstrate a tangible wealth that was simply out of the reach of so many other 'umies Loppa had killed in battle.
"Ov'cawrse I'ze 'ere ta play ball. Iz u'ze 'ere lookin' fa' uh big leeg basha loik me?"
While he answered her question and attached a follow up of his own, Loppa had already decided for himself that the 'umie was the money behind some Skull Ball team he had never heard of. Maybe 'umies played Skull Ball! He quickly ran through the many scenarios where he was ably destroying team after team of Skull Ball players made up of 'umies. Sliding spikes first into their legs, hitting balls directly at the heads of their pitchers, fist fighting the entire opposition dugout on his own. The day dream quickly passed when she began to speak again, National Anthem next? Loppa wasn't dumb, just ambitious. So even he thought it was a little weird for a team owner like her to be out scouting in the middle of the place where he was meant to be fightin' and bashin' and winnin'. In a place like this she could easily be confused for someone on the other team.
"Nashinawl Anfem? Rrr..."
He considered her part question part request with care, one hand tapping a jagged, cruel and quite septic Klaw on his dark green jawline; while he otherwise mindlessly twirled the large proto-baseball bat between the massive fingers of his totally normally, totally unamputated, green hand. Then without warning or even the least bit of force, he launched the bat up into the air with terrible speed up above his head where it eventually shrunk to a pin p***k. Loppa wasn't exactly certain what a national anthem was, but he did know what a battle chant for a specific warrior or player was. He had many, and his favorite by far was just some slight variations on the same few lines over and over again. Loud and louder as each line went on. Each dedicated to himself, and often accompanied by the backing of Gobbos who were only enthusiastically singing along so that he didn't toss them into a boiling pot for suppa'.
He snapped his fingers and clapped his mismatched hands together then slapped them to his knees, before beginning to stomp his feet loudly in a quick march in place. As the marching and slapping grew louder, a guttural noise began in Loppa's chest reverberating with the same tempo before he exploded loudly in exultation to the skies above. Extending his arms outwards from himself, and the marching came to a sudden stop so that only the sound of his rowdy shanty could be heard.
------------------OOOOOOOHHHHHH~!
------------------DEY CALLZ ME LOPPA!
------------------ALL DA GITZ SEZ ME NAME!
------------------WIF EACH SWING UV DA BLADE!
------------------I'ZE DA 'EADCHOPPA!
------------------DA BANE UV YA RUNTIES!
------------------DA BANE UV YA STUNTIES!
------------------DEY CURZ ME NAME!
------------------OH, DA BOYZ CALLZ ME LOPPA!
DA BIG STIKK flew back down from its pregnant pause somewhere up above, and Loppa caught it without so much as a flinch before regurgitating three of the baseballs in his stomach up out of his mouth, spitting them out with loud PHEWY!, each covered in sticky gob from having spent such a long time down in his belly but otherwise no worse for the wear. He swung about and with careful precision bunted the three balls towards the children that accompanied the 'umie woman to the ship.
------------------YIP! YIP! YOORAY!
The balls bounced off the dock before find themselves almost magnetically drawn to each of the kids. Loppa was a fast learner, and when he first got into the pros, he found out that giving the crowd what they wanted was often a great way to get a disproportionate amount of good will for you later on to balance out the cheating you were absolutely going to engage in. Especially if they were runty little 'umies that belonged to someone who might end up giving him a better contract later on. He smirked to himself as he tipped his cap towards the kids, and then presented the front of himself back to the 'umie. He hunched over, and leaned against DA BIG STIKK for balance with the hand that swung it in the first place. Obviously this was meant to be a private conversation, and in what might have passed for a whisper among Greenskins, Loppa brought the Klaw up to his mouth to shield try and limit the range of the conversation.
"I'ze'll bite dem balls for the da runties afta dis fite. No teef nezezary. Iz only roight 'n propa."
His face made a horrifying cracking sound as it twisted into something of a genuine smile meant to convey a positive feeling that wasn't driven by gleeful bloodlust and zealous murder. Loppa straightened back up before breathing in deeply through his nose once more. All of the weight on DA BIG STIKK came away with this motion as he swung the moss covered weapon over his shoulder again. The STIKK began to crackle just like Loppa's face had as it grew longer, and began to thin out near the far end, a point began to form.
"Soz if'z u'ze culd get outta da way, dat'd be gud. I'ze here to do sum bashin' avtur allz."
Tei Kae Wrote:
[9/12 Baseballs Remaining]
