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From:

rathercommon

[ And Kitty doesn't reach for it. Instead, she stares at Darlene, uncertain how much to tell her - and then finally shakes her head and just answers. ]

Weapons. At times.

$nastygram: (C:\visionary)$

From:

nastygram

[Darlene looks at her from the bottoms of her eyes, without lifting her head off the cushion.]

Weapons?

[She laughs.]

Oh, shit. For real? Like what are we talking about, and when?

From:

rathercommon

I didn't actually buy anything from him. I was just - preparing.

[ She grimaces and runs a hand through her hair. ]

When the Soviets invaded. And when - oh, when we all turned into younger versions of ourselves. All completely ridiculous, but - I turned thirteen again, went looking for things. Didn't get my hands on anything, fortunately.

$nastygram: (C:\fiberseekingbackhoe)$

From:

nastygram

Oh my god.

[Darlene sits up at that, with a grin.]

What were you trying to get? Wait, here--

[Just in case Kitty needs the extra encouragement, she passes back the pipe and lighter, scooting to the edge of the couch so she doesn't have to strain overmuch to get it to her.]

Then weapons deets, okay. Oh my god, this place is so fucked up.

From:

rathercommon

[ Kitty's second attempt with the pipe goes smoother; she inhales and holds her breath a decently long while before coughing it up again. As she does, she answers: ]

Explosives.

[ She clears her throat, then goes on: ]

And knives. When I was younger - turned younger - I didn't know shit, so I was also looking for throwing discs - they're these sharp silver things, you throw them at demons and they do real damage. Of course, you know, well done, thirteen-year-old-me, because there aren't even any bloody demons around here, are there.

[ She passes the pipe back. ]

$nastygram: (C:\borked)$

From:

nastygram

Yep, you sound like a dumbass.

[Darlene sits back, pulls her feet up under her, cross-legged.]

But since everyone here was acting like max dumbasses, I think you actually get a pass for that one. Try to contain your excitement over my lack of judgement, it is going to be way short-lived.

From:

rathercommon

I feel as though I also ought to get a pass 'cause I was thirteen.

[ She shakes her head. ]

I made far worse mistakes back then. Everyone makes far worse mistakes at that age.

$nastygram: (C:\interruptslocksout)$

From:

nastygram

I'm not arguing, middle school blows donkey dick universally. But I can still call you a dumbass, I reserve that right.

[She takes a quick hit, elegantly blowing out the stream of smoke as she sinks back against the couch cushion again.]

What other mistakes. Just for the sake of keeping this convo alive.

From:

rathercommon

[ Ah. This time she holds out her hand, actively demanding the pipe. She doesn't speak until she's taken a heavy drag off it. Only then: ]

Like thinking that the system wasn't rigged. Taking a rich and powerful man to court and thinking that any good would come of it. Everyone told me I'd lose but I still tried, because I really thought that if I just cared enough, and was good enough, it'd all turn out. It didn't.

[ Handing the pipe back. ]

Your turn. Shitty thing when you were a teenager.

$nastygram: (C:\tty)$

From:

nastygram

I do not want to swap teenage stories, you cynical bitch.

[And she doesn't. The insult sounds a little fond. Darlene leans forward again, over her crossed legs, fingers fumbling for the lighter and the piece. It's a long reach.]

You haven't actual seen Heathers, right?

From:

rathercommon

[ What is happening. ]

No. I haven't. Is it good?

Edited Date: 2016-11-08 04:11 pm (UTC)

$nastygram: (C:\derf)$

From:

nastygram

So good. If it was actually a thing here I would rec it to you but at best they're going to have a shitty offbrand. "Pleathers".

Anyways-- [Another hit; Darlene frowns down at the piece and gets another in quick succession.] Basic premise is this girl and her boyfriend kill the head rich bitch of the school clique and fake it as a suicide. Then they kill some more kids.

Point being, the brutal murder of the popular and wealthy elite was a motif that really appealed to me in my childhood. I also liked horses, Ferris wheels, blanket forts, frozen yogurt, and the open fucking road.

[She bumps the bowl against her chest, a self-referential gesture.]

That's me.

From:

rathercommon

[ By some fucking miracle, Kitty manages to swallow her impulse to point out the plot of that as problematic. (Thank you, drugs, and your ability to make someone chill out just a little.) Instead, she engages with what matters a bit more. ]

Frozen yogurt's new for me. It's bloody good, though. The two outrages of my world - slavery and no frozen yogurt. [ She smiles quickly, then leans her head on the heel of her hand, asking - ]

Did you have a brother or sister?

$nastygram: (C:\aliceandbob)$

From:

nastygram

Have. Yeah. And he's great. [Fairly, she adds--] Kind of a dick sometimes, pretty messed up--aren't we all--but the greatest.

[Stupid proud smile, which she transforms quickly to a scowl before she leans forward to hand back the piece.]

This is pretty much smoked out but I think there's one last hit. I want Froyo now. What is this shit?

[The baked goods. Darlene peers down at them, dubiously.]

From:

rathercommon

Oh. Erm - shortbread -

[ She points to the cookies and the hipster-ass mason jar beside it. ]

And lemon curd. Dip the cookies in the lemon curd. It's nice, a bit sour. And those are salted caramel brownies. It's a good recipe. If you like chocolate. And something a bit salty.

[ She takes the last hit, then lets out a slow relaxed sort of breath. ]

$nastygram: (C:\crufty)$

From:

nastygram

Uh-huh.

[Incredulous, Darlene looks up at Kitty.]

And when you went to the nauseatingly charming bakery to pick this up, were there actual gingham curtains? Asking so I know if I'll have something to wipe up my vomit with if I ever end up there.

[She picks up a brownie anyways, an indelicate grab, and chomps down.]

From:

rathercommon

[ Kitty squints incredulously at Darlene - ]

I made them, didn't I. Why on earth would I buy them?

$nastygram: (C:\net.personality)$

From:

nastygram

Seriously.

[Flat stare from over the top of the brownie.]

Okay, then where are your hipster-ass hand sewn gingham curtains for me to barf on. Holy shit dude, are you for real? Don't you own a freaking car garage or something? Is this like, your way of screwing gender roles? Greaser chick and cooking grease shit?

From:

rathercommon

[ She wrinkles her nose. ]

It hasn't got anything to do with that. I'm just good at it. Sometimes it's nice to do something you're good at and that you know how to do.

[ She gestures at Darlene - ]

Good, yeah?

$nastygram: (C:\handwave)$

From:

nastygram

Um, I'm eating it, aren't I.

[Which is an aggressive yes. Darlene chomps down with another bite.]

Okay, but I straight up refuse to believe that you're single issue on this. Doing something just because you're into it? Not your scene.

From:

rathercommon

[ She gives a little huff. ]

I am a person. Sometimes I can do things just because I want to do things.

$nastygram: (C:\saga)$

From:

nastygram

Uh-huh. Like baking, and chilling out relaxing all cool, looking young and hot in some other world or reality or whatever? Cool.

[The extra emphasis on that last word sort of suggests the opposite, but there's probably no surprise there.]

I'm all for free effing will or whatever, but you would never catch my ass chained to a stove. Noooo thank you.

From:

rathercommon

Well. Then that means you end up spending far too bloody much when you want something sweet, doesn't it.

$nastygram: (C:\cuspy)$

From:

nastygram

Three words, bitch.

[She counts them off on her fingers.]

Little. Debbie. Treats.

[--But she also eats the rest of her brownie in one bite before she sinks back into the couch again.]