#i have a bunch of unfinished wips with her languishing in my gdocs

[charaznablescanontoyota]

mob + shoka + a laundromat late at "night", for the ficlet prompts

[set uhhhh vaguely between episode 14 and baseball. as with all things just pretend they visit this car somewhere in there]

"hey," mob says, passing in front of the washing machine where she's perched with her phone. "are you gonna help?"

"i am helping," shoka says, without looking up. "i'm moral support."

the group has a list of garments they need to find, to exit the car. shoka isn't doing that shit. the cars with an arbitrary list of things you have to find are so boring, and everyone else seems way more goal-oriented than her. they'll get it done in no time.

"you know, i - i still have questions for you," mob says.

"and i told you," shoka says, "i'm not answering."

"i don't get you," mob says.

she smirks. "i'm an enigma, baby. if that's all you've got, you can go back to your little scavenger hunt."

"no, i mean - i don't get you. you follow us away from the apex, you bully your way into coming with us, but you don't want us to know anything about you." mob's come to a full stop in front of her now, twisting whatever shirt or skirt he has in his hands into something more resembling a rope. "you haven't even tried to talk to any of us on, like, a real level besides insulting us. so, uh, i guess my question is, what the fuck is that about?"

"wow, you're swearing now? getting a little edgy since your friend left?"

shoka looks up through her lashes, watching the expression on mob's face skew more and more frustrated. if he stays here long enough, he's going to want to talk about her being dead, how she died, all that crap she doesn't care to answer. she's seen mob psycho 100, so she knows how this works. he finds an in to empathize with her, to make her realize something about herself - and shoka's in the business of a lot of things, but self-introspection isn't one of them.

"i'm trying to have a real conversation," mob says. "if you're going to stick with us, i feel like we deserve-"

"oh, tell me more about what you deserve," shoka says. she puts her phone aside, finally, to look mob in the eye; his gaze slides away from hers, just like she suspected it would. "you know why i haven't tried to talk to you? because i know you, dummy. i've seen your show. hey, i heard you went 100% in the casino, actually. how'd that feel? you scare any of your new friends?"

"that's - none of your business," mob says. his hands are balled into tight fists around the fabric he's holding, his knuckles paper-white.

"you're the one who wanted to talk," shoka says. "is this enough talking for you?"

mob opens his mouth to answer, real annoyance flashing in his eyes for a half-second.

"how's that percentage doing?" shoka asks sweetly, before he can get another word out.

"fine," mob says through his teeth. it's hard to tell if it's an actual answer or if he's just talking to himself, because he turns on his heel and walks off quickly afterwards, joining audrey on the other side of the room.

shoka shrugs and goes back to her phone. better to teach the kid now what happens when you corner a cat.

#interstitial infinity #marn writes #i love you unalive girl. shoka is really fun to write lmao she's so rude #i have a bunch of unfinished wips with her languishing in my gdocs #i also feel the need to say i haven't played neotwewy i only know shoka as riley plays her. thats shoka to me