001 ♓ Her Imperious Condescension: Wake

[cullionfish]

[Action; 724 Anderson Lane]

[Condesce wakes with a hell of a lot of cramps in almost every joint in her body, so much so that she doesn't even sit up right away. Instead, she rests her claws over her eyes with an agitated growl. There's a silent pause as she pulls them back to observe a substance that she had pulled from the surface of her hair.

...was that flour?]

...Rupert!


[Action; Streets of Mayfield]

[Condesce appears mostly back to normal health, save for a nasty scar around her neck, mostly healed though still displaying that rich tyrian hue from where Signless had attacked her. She doesn't seem to interested in speaking to anyone, but she's not letting anyone walk past her without staring them dead in the eyes first.]


[Phone]

I believe a Karkat Vantas was looking to speak to me?

["Speak".]

Comments

[cullionfish]

[Yeah, she's mad, but not enough to bother saying anything. She's almost always mad anyway.]

I hope you'll forgive my candor, but I get looks regardless of what I do.

[cueball]

[No she looks so happy...]

Humans are fascinated by what they do not know. But, you need not pay their stares mind.

Still it seems you went through quite some pains. I overheard the gentleman over the phone trying to run from you.

[cullionfish]

I rarely do.

[Condesce sighs, though it comes out more as a growl.]

I'm sure you did.

[cueball]

[And he just lets out another light chuckle.]

It's troubling, when you think you have trouble out of your hair and it comes back. You have quite a lot of it too, all the more to be trapped.

But, you know, I grow tired of trouble and I am sure you tire of it too. You've only been dealing with trouble for how many sweeps now? That isn't a real question by the way, I know the exact number of sweeps.

[cullionfish]

[She just stares at him for a few moments, shoulders relaxing the more he talks. Not quite enough to suggest she was completely at ease, but enough so there was no imminent suggestion of violence.

The one thing Scratch is dead on about is her opinion of trouble. She appreciated a good execution and other such displays of murder and torture, but what she had been going through since her arrival...it was quickly growing most exhausting.]

Go on then. What do you propose, short of continuing as I have?

[cueball]

Let me take you out to dinner.

[Yes, he just said that.]

[cullionfish]

[...what.

She glances at him suspiciously.]

Pardon?

[cueball]

Right, it nearly slipped in my mind that this concept doesn't quite exist on Alternia in the manner it does on Earth. Which is to say it didn't slip my mind at all.

I'm propositioning you for a casual night out, on my expense. Does that sound better?

[cullionfish]

[...oh.

Funny. Actually, its very funny. But the thought is appealing, if only because she's been surrounded by insubordinate cretins since her arrival. It would be nice to have someone catering to her, finally.

Because Scratch wouldn't know that this appealed to her or anything. She doesn't really seem to care.]

...I suppose I can arrange time for that, yes.

[cueball]

[He grins. Just as he expected her to respond.]

Very good. Please make sure to tell me what evening, so I can make arrangements ahead of time. Oh -- I do suggest you hurry. There is an Earth holiday approaching soon and I am sure the town will have something planned.

[cullionfish]

[God, she doesn't even want to think about what else could go wrong.]

I see. Would tomorrow evening be too soon?

[cueball]

Tomorrow evening sounds perfect. I'll pick you up from your residence. 724 Anderson, if I am not mistaken. [Which he isn't.]

[cullionfish]

Correct, of course. I shall expect your arrival tomorrow evening, then.

[cueball]

Most certainly. I am nothing if not timely. Not a second early or late.