dear_mun | Homeless, Considering, and so chipper about it.

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Homeless, Considering, and so chipper about it.

I think I could get comfy in here. I mean, it's so busy and there are so many exciting people, and, well, yes, I'd rather find someplace to roam a little, but... whenever we get to that, right?

[Right. Big hopeful eyes go here, hoping to stun one into putting her somewhere as soon as possible, without resorting to underhanded methods like sneaking out or lying or letting dashing thieves into the tower to sweep her off...]

After all, that -- A-T-P thing is coming up tonight, right? I should have someplace outside the tower to go in no time! It won't be the lanterns, but-- it'll still be an adventure!

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[She doesn't swing, but she's back on the defensive.]

Then tell me the truth about the pointy-teeth men!

What truth?! They exist, okay, are you happy? Men with pointy teeth are a thing that happens. There are also women with pointy teeth and they're far more insane and creepy than most of the men are, so I don't know why the hell you're not more worried about them. But it's a moot point because neither of them are in your fucking world and I don't even know where they are right now.

Women too!? [Her Mother didn't tell her about the women!] That sounds terrible!

Wait--

What do you mean they're not in my world? My Mother told me about them!

Your mom was probably either A, crazy, B, making shit up, or C, somehow informed about trolls, which I really doubt because the last set of humans we ran into had no idea that we even existed until we refused to leave them the fuck alone.

My Mother isn't crazy! [Indigiant, though she'll-- uh, eventually learn that her mother is in fact a sociopath someday, just-- not today] Don't be rude!

Are you-- I can't even tell if you're kidding right now. You beat me in the face with that-- that thing! And I'm the one being rude here, oh, I see!

You shouldn't talk about people's Mother's that way-- and you are rude. And you're a pointy-toothed man so you're dangerous!

[...though he's seemed pretty... docile so far. Maybe he's trying to lure her into a false sense of security?]

Okay, maybe, yes, I am very dangerous, that's true, but look-- unless you keep trying to break my face in with that thing, I seriously have no reason to try and hurt you, got it? So put that fucking thing away! God!

[She sits, folding her arms over her frying pan, holding it to her chest.]

You don't have to be angry. You're very scary.

You hit me in the head with a blunt object! I probably have some kind of weird brain damage now!

You're talking to me, I don't think you're brain damaged!

Give it time. In a few seconds I'll stop being able to form sentences and I'll just sort of sit here and drool, it will be terrible.

[o...oh god. Now she's going to sit there and watch for it.]

[... he just... stares back.]

All this staring is really starting to freak me the fuck out.

Well, I have to see if you -- really are -- going to be... [She wiggled her fingers, as if that was enough of explanation.] I could-- help you...

If you promise.

Promise.

Not to take my hair.

Why the hell would I take your hair. See, I still don't get that. What would I even do with it? Do I look like some kind of fucking creep or something?

Because.

[She very carefully sets her frying pan down. A gesture of trust. Then she scoots over-- slowly, carefully, and not just a little wary.]

Stay still.

[And she starts to wrap lengths of her hair around his head. Yeah. Just like that.]

What the fuck--

[well, that's what he tried to say, but it was muffled under a mountain of hair. he waves his arms awkwardly, continuing to attempt to question just what she thought she was doing, but only succeeding in getting a mouthful of golden hair and making a mess of red spit all over the place.]

[Such language, Karkat.]

[She ignores it until she's got a nice head of hair-- and ew, red spit, ew... She doesn't think about it, though; her hair shakes off yucky things like you wouldn't believe.]

[But once settled she starts to... sing?]

Flower, gleam and glow. Let your power shine. Make the clock reverse- bring back what once was mine. Heal what has been hurt, change the fate's design. Save what has been lost; bring back what was once was mine...

[Congratulations, Karkat. You're wrapped in glowing hair. But at least you feel better now.]

[ahhhhh what the-- ... oh. ... oh. and suddenly he puts it all together. well, at least he's stopped squirming and making a mess all over the place.

holy shit you have got to be kidding.]

[Once she's done lighting up her scalp like the Christmas tree at Rockefeller plaza, she begins to unwind her hair and peers at Karkat. Yup, no more bruises.]

[...and he's not looking very fierce. She reaches out to poke his cheek, face scrunched.]

You look better. But you're still-- kind of pasty. And your teeth are pointy still.

[he makes a snarling face and swats at her hand.]

That would probably be because, you know, that's how they're supposed to be. And what do you mean, pasty?

[She draws her hand back, giving him a cross look for a moment.]

Pasty. You're-- like you don't see the sun much.

[She gathers up her hair and -- yeah that's a lot of hair, okay, in her lap and in a big, golden pool around her.]

I don't see the sun ever. You'd have to be crazy to go out there, the Alternian sun could fucking fry you.

Alt...what?

[She has no idea what this is you're talking about and you keep using those words Karkat, she knows they're bad.]

Well, that explains why you're -- pale.

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I lol'd

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