closed log. rated F for FUCKING LANGUAGE.

[hypertoxic]

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. ]

Comments

[hypertoxic]

... Karkat. Are you completely retarded?! You're the one that started screaming first, you stupid loudmouth chucklefuck!

[ RRRRRRRrrrgggghhhghghghrhrhghrhghghrhrhg briefly buries her face in her hands

why does she know him why is he bothering her

actually that's a great question let's ask it ]

Seriously, what do you want. [ Very flat. ] Why are we even having this conversation right now. Actually, better question. What the fuck are you staring at, asshole!

[ihateyouetc]

Okay, maybe I was trying to get your attention.

[ That's as good of a concession as she's going to get. ]

But I'm not fucking staring at you! [ Well, technically he was. ] Why do you think I'd stare at you? Do you think I'm just waiting for you to come around so I can turn my ganderbulbs on your visage and gape at you? I'm looking at you since that's what you do when you talk to people. You fucking look at them. Or are you not even looking at me right now? I can't tell! [ Yeah, that's going to go over well.

Whatever his problem is, Karkat's brows furrow. The left corner of his mouth twitches and the irritation lightens just long enough for anyone looking at his face to see confusion flicker behind his eyes, like they were only windows to a vast ocean of rage inside his head and sometimes some emotion floats by like driftwood or debris from structures that might have once been impressive, but somewhere along the way got completely wrecked. ]

Huh.

[ What was he going to say to her again? He had something else, but... ]

Dammit, hold on. I need to think about this.

[ And back to the irritation. ]

You made me forget what I was going to say to you in the first place.

[hypertoxic]

[ She does something stupid.

She slams the heel of her palm down on the table hard enough to make trays jump and drinks spill and half rises out of her seat. The look on her face is one of real, actual rage, a snarl as dark as tar and a promise of coming thunder.

Then all at once she just sits back down again, bracing her cheekbones on the heels of her palms so she can thread her fingers into her hair. ]

Yeah. Right. Okay. Let's mock the dead girl about her creepy fucking eyes. You're a real gentleman, Vantas. Is this how you flirt with everyone you're oh so obviously interested in?

[ It's a mean comment, with John right there and everyone present painfully aware of the tangled romantic feelings going on. It makes her feel a little bad, but not bad enough to do anything at all about it. All she does is glance up at him balefully, like maybe somehow the force of her glare can make him spontaneously combust and end this inane, pathetic excuse for a conversation. ]

Fuck off, Karkat. I don't need your shit today.

[ihateyouetc]

[ In all fairness, Vriska doesn't need to feel guilty. Does John look like he cares? Karkat isn't looking, but if he had any idea about the concern in Vriska's mind, he'd be able to assure her that right now the expression on John's face is pointless, like there isn't anything inside his head but empty air while he stares down at his human nutrition plateau and the barely-passable food content sitting on it; everything about him indicating a vague sense of curiosity, as if wondering what burritos would taste like if the ground-meat was replaced by tangible puffy clouds.

Seriously, look at that asshole. He doesn't give one lonely fuck. ]

Oh! [ Karkat's tone takes a jump for the faux-flippant. ] Okay, great, since we've settled that that's how you want to do this, that's how we'll do this! Real fucking mature, Vriska. Yes, let's talk with reckless abandon about how I choose to pursue my romantic interests! And just for the record here, I'd rather fucking die than consider applying that term to you. [ There's someone else here just as mature as Vriska. (Three someones if we're technical.) It's here his eyes widen and his expression is about as vacantly dumb as John's. ] Oh man, I forgot to wildly slap my appendages around like the flagrant abuse of inanimate objects is going to make me feel better about the fact someone's giving me shit for ignoring them -- which I could've avoided, by the way, but I didn't!

[ In retaliation, he half-rises out of his seat when he slams both his hands on the table, oblivious to whatever effects that causes as his mouth curls in another sneer. (It won't be the last.)

TOP THAT YOU COLD CLAMMY BITCH. COLD AND CLAMMY BECAUSE YOU'RE DEAD. DEAD GIRL JOKES. GET IT. HOT DAMN, NOW WE'RE COOKING WITH EMBALMING FLUID! IF BY "COOKING" WE MEAN "INFUSING" BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT HUMANS DO WITH DEAD BODIES I GUESS? WHATEVER, WHO EVEN CARES. ]

What a fucking shocker. I don't need your eight-ullshit either but here I am, drowning in it as per usual!

[ So far he hasn't noticed Dave's hungry hands or his thirsty mouth. Small miracles. ]

[hypertoxic]

[ Grrrrrrrr.....

Yes. She starts to growl. Trolls can do that. That sure is a thing trolls can do. And she is very angry, gripping the table so hard her knuckles turn white. But then he finishes talking, and after a moment's consideration, she falls quiet.

If she had such a thing on her person, and were she the type to say it, this is when she would say Baby, hold my flower, hand that shit off to John (or Dave, either boy would work, really), and go the fuck to town.

But as it stands, she does not have a flower. So she pushes to her feet, palms flat on the table, expression schooled into complete impassivity. Which, for anyone who knows her, and all three boys at this table do, is an even worse sign than her open rage of three seconds ago. Because it means she is thinking. Not a thoughtful sort of think. Not an unhappy sort of think. This is the kind of think one undertakes when one is planning the absolute most brutal murder anyone has ever seen for about a thousand fucking goddamn years. ]

Do I even need to remind you, [ she starts, voice low and strangely even, ] that you started this? That you're the one that called me out? I mean, where the fuck else would I get the totally bizarre and honestly stupid idea that you, for some insane reason, wanted to talk to me? You want to talk about maturity, Karkat?

[ And then she moves. They're all pretty battle hardened, and both Dave and John could probably do this faster than she currently is by virtue of their respective powers. But she is certainly faster than Karkat, and she takes advantage of that knowledge by vaulting over the table and grabbing him roughly. Very roughly.

(Yeah, guess who doesn't give one single fuck about her food anymore. Have at it, boys.) ]

Then why don't we take this somewhere else! Like mature people! And have a nice mature talk while I debate breaking your fucking head in!

[ On somewhere she flashes into her god tier pj's, blue fairy wings on full display. And they flutter and twitch with her high aggravation.

Really. Nothing good has ever come of provoking Vriska Serket. ]

[ihateyouetc]

[ Adrenaline, stress, and paranoia are funny things. You don't need luck for your body to react to a threat. Who needs turn tables and clocks to get away when your heart can beat three times in one second and your body urge you to escape just as fast? You don't need the ability to turn into wind and disperse for every nerve and muscle in your body to shriek move and your reactionary nature to move immediately with it.

But this is Vriska.

His expression is as lively as a dead girl's when she grabs him, provided the dead girl in question is wearing a flat dead stare. Even her flashy display can't take that away from him long, robbing it just long enough to force a wince. For less than a second, there's too much light: his pupils shrink to the length and width of something a little more oval and cat-like than the perfectly-round-but-pin-point pupils that humans have.

Two things are obvious. First: ] You're not going to do shit other than rub the fact you're God Tier all over my embarrassingly inferior visage. Excellent! You proved that point -- I'm not. Not like I didn't already know about my utter failure to ascend to the highly esteemed ranks of Somebody Who's Actually Good At Something, but that's cool!

[ And second: he hadn't attempted to move.

At least until this moment. He lifts a hand to curl it around one of her wrists, but he also doesn't try to remove it. It's more of a useless security gesture -- like, say, in case someone's hands decide to get any funny ideas and make an attempt at choking him out even if she could do it if she really wanted to anyway. ]

Why are you even here?

[ She isn't the only one who can talk in a low voice. ]

You should be in your ineffective and uncomfortable human bed, taking a god damn break, and not forcing yourself back into this schoolhive shitfest to prove whatever dumbass point you're trying to make that doesn't actually need to be made.

[ AND SPEAK FOR YOURSELF. HE STILL WANTS THAT FOOD EVENTUALLY. ]

[hypertoxic]

[ It's when he doesn't rise to the bait - this particular bait, the physical aggression and latent threat - that she finally starts to chill her shit out. Just a tiny bit. Whether he'd intended it or not, the effect of his flat and more or less unruffled demeanor is to make her suddenly feel very silly, like she is parading all this rage for the world to see and absolutely everyone knows there's no bite behind it.

All bark, no bite. When did that become who she is? When did everyone stop being scared of her and what she could do? Times were, if she threatened someone like this, everyone would freak out because, oh shit, Vriska's about to do something terrible!

(It changed when it became as clear to everyone else as it always was to her that she wanted to do the right thing. And now that she's being taught what the right thing is, she's been doing it more and more often.)

At least he flinched.

She doesn't respond to his dig, because that's rote banter they're basically both expecting at this point. It's his quiet comment that gets her to shift and frown, softly. Plus the way he grips her wrist. It's a familiar gesture. It's the same thing she did to Aradia when Aradia beat her almost to death. Karkat will be unaware of the parellel, but it isn't lost on her, and makes her feel even worse. ]

I'm fine. [ She says so softly probably only he can hear it. But now, after jumping over the fucking table and manhandling him and-- christ, Dave and John aren't even paying attention. Karkat isn't the one here behaving like a wiggler. (Well. He did start it.)

Suddenly too self-conscious to stay here even another second, Vriska frowns more sharply, lets go of Karkat--

Then bends her knees, grabs him around the middle, hefts him over her shoulder, and pushes up into the air. To John: ]

I am borrowing your dumbfuck boyfriend. I will try to return him in good condition. No promises, though! [ A beat, and to Dave: ] And yes, Dave, you can have my lunch. Thanks for being so considerate and asking, because I might have actually given a shit about that!

[ With that, departs. Karkat can protest all he wants. As long as he doesn't do anything to make her drop him, they will probably make it to the roof more or less intact.

WHATEVER KARKAT. YOU'RE NOT ACTUALLY GETTING BACK TO YOUR SHITTY HUMAN LUNCH FOOD. ]

[riseup]

[ Dammit Vriska, don't give Dave full control over your lunch, there is an important battle raging here!

Oh she's got Karkat over her shoulder like an angry sack of flour.

Blink. ]

Well, okay. You break it, you buy it.

[ Have fun you crazy kids, poppop's got a burrito to steal ]

[callbacks]

[NABS VRISKA'S BURRITO LIKE THE SON OF A TIME SHINOBI

Reappears in his seat, chill as anything.]

Welc.

[Chomps on it. THIS BURRITO HAS BEEN MARKED NOW. CLAIMED BY HIS MOUTH GERMS. With his mouth full, he adds:]

Later, Karkat.