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thoughtformed2013-06-19 07:09 pm
hypertoxic) wrote in thoughtformed2013-06-19 07:09 pm
Entry tags:
closed log. rated F for FUCKING LANGUAGE.
Who: Karkat and Vriska. Potentially with cameos by Dave, John, and their school lunch burritos. And pudding cups.
What: It's been about a week since Vriska's midnight channel, and Karkat makes an ill-timed remark. It goes over poorly.
When: Some days after this. BACKDATING IS FOR AWESOME PEOPLE.
Where: The school cafeteria. AND THEN THE ROOF.
Why: Because screamy assholes need to shriek at each other until they feel better and also realize they were fighting over precisely nothing.
[ It was not exactly an easy decision for Vriska to waltz back into school once she'd recovered from her ordeal enough to do so. It wasn't that she was embarrassed by what had happened, so much. To be embarrassed would imply she had any shame left to feel, that such an emotion hadn't been burned from her entirely in the fires of immense public scrutiny and, to her chagrin, pity. No, there was no shame in her now. All her fucks had been taken and she had none left to give.
But there was an emotional rawness, a burn on her pride and her bearing that was still slow-oozing and refusing to heal. It hurt to be ripped open in front of everyone you care about, everyone you've tried so hard to impress. It hurt to learn, at the same time as mostly everyone else, that you were in love with your very taken moirail and best friend. It hurt to be brought so low and it hurt to know you were the reason your friends all had to risk their lives. It hurt in a much different way to know that they were willing to take that risk even after seeing what they saw, knowing what they knew about you now. That was a gentler hurt, but far deeper, too.
She's kept her chin up. She is proud. She is Vriska Serket. She bows for no one, not even herself.
But she can be forgiven if she's a bit tetchy as she sulks her way into the cafeteria that day at lunch, right? Forgiven a bit of, perhaps, overreactive tendencies that might lead her to take even the most innocent comment far, far, far too personally.
Sulk sulk grumble over her tray of human grub as she slouches her way to a table. ]
What: It's been about a week since Vriska's midnight channel, and Karkat makes an ill-timed remark. It goes over poorly.
When: Some days after this. BACKDATING IS FOR AWESOME PEOPLE.
Where: The school cafeteria. AND THEN THE ROOF.
Why: Because screamy assholes need to shriek at each other until they feel better and also realize they were fighting over precisely nothing.
[ It was not exactly an easy decision for Vriska to waltz back into school once she'd recovered from her ordeal enough to do so. It wasn't that she was embarrassed by what had happened, so much. To be embarrassed would imply she had any shame left to feel, that such an emotion hadn't been burned from her entirely in the fires of immense public scrutiny and, to her chagrin, pity. No, there was no shame in her now. All her fucks had been taken and she had none left to give.
But there was an emotional rawness, a burn on her pride and her bearing that was still slow-oozing and refusing to heal. It hurt to be ripped open in front of everyone you care about, everyone you've tried so hard to impress. It hurt to learn, at the same time as mostly everyone else, that you were in love with your very taken moirail and best friend. It hurt to be brought so low and it hurt to know you were the reason your friends all had to risk their lives. It hurt in a much different way to know that they were willing to take that risk even after seeing what they saw, knowing what they knew about you now. That was a gentler hurt, but far deeper, too.
She's kept her chin up. She is proud. She is Vriska Serket. She bows for no one, not even herself.
But she can be forgiven if she's a bit tetchy as she sulks her way into the cafeteria that day at lunch, right? Forgiven a bit of, perhaps, overreactive tendencies that might lead her to take even the most innocent comment far, far, far too personally.
Sulk sulk grumble over her tray of human grub as she slouches her way to a table. ]
YOU ASSHOLES.
You fuckers. Don't eat everything while Karkat's away talking to other people about very important things!! ]
pretty much
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mommy's babies want their yumyums ]
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But yeah fuck that shit.
Dave soooooo casually stretches his other arm out towards Karkat's lunch, making it somehow look completely nonchalant despite it being at a really weird and awkward angle behind him.
The imaginary double-jointed contortionist Bro once told him was his mother would be so proud.]
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You know, to steady them, since those assholes keep pounding the table like they're video game lawyers or something.]
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Don't think he doesn't see you inching toward Karkat's food, Dave. Because he does. ]
What do you think burritos would taste like if they were filled with clouds?
[ And he's going to match your inching. That burrito will be his. John is pretty sure he's legally entitled to half of Karkat's belongings, or something like that. ]
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[He actually takes a moment from his inching to give the matter the serious thought it deserves.]
Maybe like. A mix of cold water and cream, four parts to one. But only on the inside of the tortilla.
[Only then does he notice John's movement towards the food and he just kind of slides down further in its direction. Paint him like one of your French trolls, John.]
But that would be a sinful thing to do to a perfectly innocent young plate of Mexican food. You are a shame and you should be ashamed.
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[ Heh. Heheh. Heheheheheheheh whoa hey someone's jumping over the table to almost tackle somebody else. Man, what are they fighting about? Do they even know what they're fighting about? Whatever. More importantly, just gonna casually grab the burrito and start dragging it closer to him. ]
What did one chip say to the other chip during a fight?
[ QUICK, APPLICABLE JOKE DIVERSION ]
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[Dave's hand lands on the other end of Karkat's burrito--hahahaha that sounds like a bad euphemism, is there Mexican food-themed Homestuck porn, I bet there is--the second John starts pulling it away.]
Didn't your nanna teach you that stealing is wrong.
[Without lifting his gaze from John's duplicitous face, he slowly takes another bite of the burrito Vriska left--nay--bequeathed him.]
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You boys just take their food. Surely their physical confrontation that seems like it could turn violent needs no interference or intervention whatsoever and priority number one here is burritos. Filled with clouds.
Carry on. ]
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