soul_logs | Tell me what you've come for [Closed]

Characters: The Cheshire Cat and Vriska Serket
Location: Casualty Communal, room 8H
Rating: PG to PG-13, depending.
Time: October 18th, late evening.
Description: Terrible OP. Vriska has an intruder. The intruder is a Weapon. 1 + 1 = ...?

Vriska had missed pretty much the entire sandstorm, but she didn't much care. Sand wasn't an interesting event to her. After watching Tavros' miserable sandy rock for hours on her computer, she'd gotten all the sand she could stomach. More than, even.

No, she was staying in for now, opening her now-nightly routine of trawling the DEMISE networks for any and all new communications and replies that had been posted while she was asleep. She didn't really care what half these idiots had to say, but Vriska was nothing if not thorough, and she checked every posting--even those by people she despised, or didn't give two shits about.

...especially by people she despised.

Her bed was dismantled, the sheets stripped off and the bedding and pillows shoved--viciously--into a corner, leaving the mattress bare for her to sleep on, and spider webs hung from the ceilings, and nestled in the sill of the open window, sometimes with actual spiders. They were such tiny creatures here. Sort of delicate. She considered them the best company she could find.

At least a spider wasn't going to betray her.

Threaded | Flat

Cheshire wandered in through the cracked window as he'd become accustomed to doing. He had been happy to find a new one, since he had been running out of open windows and new people.

Seeing the young troll on the computer he pranced across the room and hopped up onto the desk she sat at, the very tip of his tail twitching as he stared at her, grinning. He looked a little less eerie with rounded pupils in the dark room, but the reflected light in his eyes managed to seem to negate the effect, and the way the computer's glow seemed to light up his grin pushed it even further in the direction of creepy, if not at least unsettling. Any normal human would probably only really see his teeth and eyes in this dark, especially after staring at the bright light of the computer screen. His grey fur seemed to work well in his favour when it came to blending in with he dark.

Well, that was a terrible idea. Vriska had been moderately absorbed in her work, but not nearly absorbed enough to miss something fat and grey entering her room, and it was the pure shock and disbelief that gave him a chance to get up to her desk.

But that was as far as she got.

"You!"

Vriska jerked back, grabbing him viciously--literally seizing him by the back of the neck--and picked him up, throwing him from the desk.

Cheshire latched onto the sleeve of her jacket and managed to hang on until the last second, sending him flying into the wall. As he collided, he glowed a pinkish purple and clattered to the ground as a knife. Even after being hit into the wall with such force, his smile was reflected in his blade.

She was a quick one. Normally that wouldn't be too much of an issue, but since he was unable to de-materialize any more, it was. He needed to try to keep that in mind more, so he didn't get thrown into any more walls.

Still in weapon form, he gave himself a second to recover from the blow as he quipped, "You're driving me off the wall!"

Vriska stopped, caught off guard. Then:

"You're a Weapon." She stepped sharply across the room, looking down at the grinning blade with something akin to disbelief. She stood there, staring at the blade--this obnoxious beast was something possibly useful--then, stooping, wrapped her fingers around the hilt.

Cheshire could tell that she was interested. It really wasn't hard to read that off of her. When she saw he was a weapon, her whole demeanour changed. Of course, he couldn't help but to smile wider at this revelation, sending his blade extending out an extra few feet so that he was now a curved sword rather than a small knife.

Wasn't she lucky? Their resonation was far from good at the moment, but touching him didn't result in her hand burning, or getting shocked, or him weighing too much. It meant that they actually had a chance to resonate!

Frankly, Cheshire could care less about getting a meister or not, so long as things stayed interesting. He had to admit, this sudden interest that Vriska showed in him was interesting.

Vriska stared down at the grinning blade, flat-faced, her expression still numb--then, suddenly, the left side of her mouth jerked upward, erratically followed a few seconds later by the other half, baring her fangs in a smirk that radiated confidence, smug and sharp. "Ha." She turned the sword over in her hand, a much more characteristic expression having crawled up to replace the strange, mechanical look of a few seconds earlier. "Haha! That wasn't hard at all!"

"Well, I've never heard anyone call a sword soft before!" Smiles generally meant good things. Not always good from everyone's perspective, but more often than not good from his. It was a rare occasion where someone smiled and it meant he was in trouble. He enjoyed slipping away from dangerous situations far too much.

"The fall wasn't exactly soft either, though it could have been much harder." It still hurt more than a fall from a second story, at least. He hadn't had time to properly twist himself to land on his feet. He had been thrown too hard from not high enough up. Turning into a knife had probably taken some of the impact off.

Vriska was tempted to throw him--it, whatever--at the wall again, but she tightened her grip instead, refusing to let him stop her from exulting in this moment. Her grin threatened to rival the moon's, and when she finally turned, crossing the room to sit, with a bit of a flounce, on her bed, it was with an array of fangs sharp and deadly enough to match Cheshire's own.

It passed into something more speculative, however, as her gears turned. Her smirk widened.

Edited 2011-02-22 04:14 (UTC)

Cheshire transformed back into himself when she sat down, so that he was sitting, grinning up at her. Something told him that he was going to enjoy whatever it was that this little girl was planning.

"I know I don't have your tongue, so what are you thinking?"

Whuf.

Cheshire shifted back and Vriska got the breath knocked out of her briefly, as was appropriate to the sudden acquisition of fifteen pounds of flesh and fur on one's lap. She managed to mostly hide the snarl as she shoved him to the floor, disguising it instead as a much more minor scowl. "Why would you have anyone's tongue?" she snapped, then paused, lapsing again into pensive malice.

Finally, she spoke.

"Tell me... how do you feel about revenge?"

Cheshire managed to land this one well enough, and he promptly jumped back up onto the bed next to the young troll.

"I have plenty of fur to protect me from that cold dish!" Not that he ever cared enough about anything to get revenge, but he saw nothing wrong with someone else getting revenge.

Tell me what you've come for [Closed]

1+1= DOOM

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