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mosshugs · 5 years

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Amnesiac

This is literally a kin memory written like a fanfic for the hell of it

The battle had been going so well.

You’d taken out the enemies closest to you with a couple of quick shots, your trusty N-ZAP ‘85 proving itself useful as you easily wiped out your opponents. You could hear the jeering of your true foe, commanding his fleet from farther back. What a coward, to make the others do his dirty work. He was no better than Octavio, in that sense or any other; though you had to begrudgingly admit his take on sanitization was a new type of threat. The monster claimed he’d mobilized the procedure, speeding it up enough that a single attack from a weapon full of sanitizing goo could wash the mind from any cephaloperson. Still, the blows were almost painfully easy to dodge as his undertrained army challenged you; seeming blissfully unaware of how skilled you and the other agents had become over the years.

It was so simple, so easy, it was easy to get cocky. No enemy had gotten close, no shot had come near to landing; and even in this chaos your friends were behind you cheering and congratulating one another on successful shots and slick moves. Flashing a subtle grin, you turn to face them; unable to resist the urge to glance at your companions. Your sight settles on your wife, watching her roll with gusto and fire with her much-beloved dualies. Her golden eyes glinted when she noticed you watching, a proud smile spreading across her features and her movements becoming even more exaggerated in an effort to show off.

“Reena, watch this!”

And so watch you did, enamored as she dodged nearly too quickly to be seen and took out two enemies with a quick shot of her twin guns. Even after all these years she didn’t fail to impress you with her savvy tricks; always done with such flair that it was very nearly a performance.

You were still entranced by her when you heard the charger fire, only subconsciously registering the sound as it echoed through the air. For a split second you saw Callie’s horrified face, Agent 8’s eyes widening as she also saw what was about to happen; and then the blast collided with the side of your head, knocking you down, and for a moment you don’t really notice anything else.

At first it was just painful and annoying. A single charger shot wasn’t enough to splat you these days, much less kill you. Instinctively you lift one hand to the throbbing contact point on your head, feeling the spatter of cool ink over your tentacles and pulling it away to investigate it. Your ears begin to ring as you take in its sickly, familiar green color and everything that entails, and all at once you realize just how invasive the pain from the hit is. Still sitting on the ground you lift your gaze,your stomach dropping as the terrible reality of what was about to happen crashed into you. For the fist time in years you find yourself frozen, unable to move even as you watched your friends scramble to get close to you. They’re taking down every enemy within the area, no longer playing around with the mission. You see Marie- no, no, that’s Callie, rushing to help you.

And then you see Pearl.

She runs to you, skidding to a stop in front of you and grabbing for your hand. You see the tears welling in her eyes and it makes your heart feel like it could shatter on the spot. Suddenly you become aware that you’re crying too, trembling and whimpering as a cold numbness begins to spread through your thoughts. You can already feel it gnawing at the edges of your memories, unraveling you like spun thread, and you desperately grip the hand of the squid in front of you. You can hear again now, and you almost wish you couldn’t; as the desperation in her voice is almost too much.

“Marina I’m sorry! Stay with me okay? Just focus, focus on everything and don’t forget. Please don’t forget. Remember our wedding, with Judd as the ring bearer? Remember when you told me you liked me and I just stuttered for ages? Remember when you came to inkopolis and you bumped into me? The first night you stayed with me, I told you you were my first sleepover. We made Off the Hook, don’t forget. Please, please Reena don’t forget..”

She’s babbling and you do remember it. You can recall every last thing, but even as she pulls those thoughts to mind you can feel them beginning to haze over and crumble away into nothingness. You can’t quite remember the name of the octoling behind her; one with fuschia hair and wide eyes who you feel you’re supposed to know. You think you might recall the inkling nearby with the long green tentacles on both sides, but you’re not entirely sure. Your breathing speeds up and you lock eyes with the girl in front of you, trying to clutch her name tight in the deepest part of your mind where it can’t be taken away. Your voice comes out higher than intended, unsteady as the unnatural Novocain works its way through your mind.

“Pearlie please, I don’t want to forget. I love you, I don’t want to forget please don’t let me please..”

You murmur it like a prayer, knowing that she can’t do anything. She’s just as powerless as you are to keep your feelings, your thoughts, your self from turning to dust and emptiness. All she can do is hold your hand and lean her forehead against yours, sobbing. You cry too, trying not to wail as you feel everything slipping away; leaving a sickening hollowness that tell you you’re losing something important. You’re certain you’re meant to know this girl in front of you, with her heartbroken golden eyes and her short white and pink tentacles. A name echoes somewhere in your subconscious, but it’s too far away for you to reach. Your head is pounding, and for a reason you can’t really remember your heart carries a misery so thick you feel you could drown in it; though even that is being dulled by a staticky nothingness even as the green and pink pair of squids start trying to pick you up and lead you away; their own faces masks of grief and fear.

And then, mercifully, something in you flips a switch and unconsciousness swallows you up before you can even think to fight it.

When you wake the first thing you see is the weak sunlight streaming through the window by your bed. The second thing you see is your wife, your Pearlie, fast asleep with her head on your hospital bed. Her cheeks are flushed and tear-streaked, her tense shoulders twitching as though she were currently trapped in a bad dream. For a moment you don’t have any idea why you’re here and not warm and cozy at home, but then a flicker of recent events stirs in your mind, reminding you of why your head still aches, and all of a sudden the only thing you can think about is that you still remember. Callie, Marie, Agents 3, 4, 8, Capn’ Cuttlefish, Pearlie, Pearlie, Pearlie.

You put a hand on her head, smoothing back her tentacles, and she jolts awake with a start. Almost immediately her gaze fixates on you, wide and scared and vulnerable and filled to the brim with an unspoken question. You try your best to smile, though you aren’t sure how well it turns out- it seems some small things are still a bit lost- and you begin to whisper to her.

“I remember the wedding,” you begin softly, voice hoarse with sleep and tears, “I remember when I confessed to you and I was so scared you’d say no. I remember when i came to inkopolis, and the first sleepover, and Off the Hook. I remember everyone, I remember you. I didn’t forget, I didn’t forget.”

The kiss she gives you then speaks volumes that all her lyrics would have coveted.

You carry the scar from that shot for the rest of your life- an odd, pale green and black patch that spreads across the thick of your tentacle and onto the skin of your cheek. A few things are lost; minor things, memories that you miss but could stand to be without. You are thoroughly aware that the loss could have been far worse, you felt how that emptiness crept through you and shudder at the thought of it having been permanent. But it isn’t, and you remember.

And you will never, ever, forget.

#splatoonkin #marinakin #cotton writes #drabble #anyway enjoy This

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insecure-hbo-recaps · 7 years

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hella questions

Previously on Insecure: A bunch of bad dates, missing Lawrence, trifling Lawrence, failed "get my ex back" party, Molly is way underpaid. And two minutes of ex sex.

"Y'all fucked?" is the incredulity that welcomes us to the second episode of the season. I can't decide if I love or hate that Issa has one of those old school ugly wooden entertainment center things that I'm sure we ALL had growing up.

Issa is also wearing a hoodie with Harriet Tubman on it... though I can't figure out what the two pictures on her wall are. Molly wants to know who initiated the sex and whether they've spoken since. They aren't really in any better place, and Molly doesn't find this encouraging. Issa is grasping at straws. Molly asks whether it was a getting back together fuck or a "fuck you" fuck. Hmmm. As someone who recently had sex with her ex that she's still in love with... it was definitely neither lol. It was... well, actually, it was a “I put up this picture of me kissing another dude as my facebook profile pic so that everyone could stop feeling sorry for me for being single, but you think I moved on and am dating someone else and don't love your trifling ass anymore and you got the nerve to have a jealous streak" kind of a fuck. This fool asked me like four times "so what's new with you?" As if I would tell if it WAS true, lol. Anyway, the sex between Lawrence and Issa would fall in a similar category - dudes being in their insecure ass feelings but STILL not trying to give you the respect you deserve.

Issa calls the sex "nebulous." Nebulous: unclear, vague, or ill defined. Molly is wary of drawing any conclusions based on this murky outcome, but Issa brightly tries to convince herself the sex means something good. Idk, girl. I don't feel like that. I'm not even going to delude myself that way.

Lawrence is in the gym, because in case you haven't noticed, he ain't a capn crunch eating white socks scrub no more. He starts to text Issa that he made things weird and didn't plan for it to happen, but thinks better of it and deletes it.

Meanwhile, Molly did stick with her therapist and is at a second session. Far from how close mouthed she had been before, she is ranting energetically about her stronger work ethic and going above and beyond but still being underpaid. Honestly, this is why I just solve this issue by half assing everything at work. I'm never going above and beyond. I will ALWAYS be a solid 3/4 at annual performance review time. Fuck your five star review. This job don't give a fuck about me and I don't give a fuck about y'all. And when the pay stops being enough, my resume makes it easy for me to bounce and renegotiate a new salary. But Molly is not interested in conceding defeat and can't understand why she can't figure out a way to get into the all boy's club. The therapist points out that Molly is "shoulding" all over herself. And if you watch this show, you've seen Sex and the City, so we don't need to break down the logistics of this.

The therapist tries to tell Molly she's living in the reality she thinks she should have, not the one she does have. Molly, naturally, doesn't understand what she's saying. The therapist tells her that there are certain standards levied at black women - and let's take the time to point out the difference here... in the past, the standards of a black woman were to singlehandedly manage a household and all of its financial and functional needs, put yourself aside and be a supporting force for everyone else in your life, and maybe you might find a man but how can you expect that, and you shouldn't, because it's too hard, and well, if you can't find one, maybe nice Willie the janitor will be there for you and don't be thinking bout no law degree. That shit ain't the move no more. These days the perfect standards of being a black woman are all about getting your 2013 self titled album Beyonce on - fulfilled in yourself and your life choices and not subscribing to any ideology that says you can't be enough or what you have to offer isn't valuable... with a slice of "even if no one else can see my value, I know it far exceeds that of many of those around me." Later for settling. Later for accepting scraps. But now that opens the door to a battle that's twice as hard, choosing to except the ways in which you are exceptional, in a world that is not willing to agree with you purely because... you are a black woman.

The therapist asks Molly if she would be open to a life that doesn't look like the one she thinks she "should" have. Molly isn't ready to grapple with that idea, and demurs on scheduling the next session. See what I'm saying? Bitches afraid to look at themselves.

Gallery opening. Which, again, is a little too close to Sex and the City for me, but I don't know what y'all be doing in California or New York. Gallery openings ain't a thing in Chicago. The four of them are talking about Issa's party. Tiffany is being annoyingly bougie as usual, Kelli is only mildly extra. I don't... I don't know what to say about these outfits.

I fully respect everything Insecure is doing. But I'd be a damn lie if I said... it was very... right, I suppose. It wouldn't be the route I'd take if it were my show, I guess is what I'd say. They are trying to decide plans for the weekend but Issa doesn't want to go out clubbing - she thinks sleeping with Lawrene means a reunion is imminent so she can't really be going out anymore. Tiffany decides to empathize and shares that her gay husband lived in a hotel for basically half a year while they were going through something. "The point is, even perfect couples have problems," Tiffany says, and I'm not looking forward to the season where they try to humanize Tiffany by showing she hides behind all this "perfect" bullshit to cover up the fact that she is miserably depressed and hates herself. I accidentally paused at a moment that captures this sentiment:

Issa thinks she just needs to give Lawrence time to forgive her; he can't just walk away from five years like that. Every single time I've thought I offered something so incredibly unique to a man he'd be stupid to walk away from it, I was patently, 100% wrong. Kelli points out that for 2 of those years his bum ass mooched off on her couch and Issa should move on. Issa wants to work it out. But... really? Why would Issa want to still be with Lawrence? She wasn't happy with him, that's why she cheated in the first place. And I'm not buying that she saw the error of her ways and truly wants the life they had together in the end. More like being single is shit, especially when you've had someone as your counterpart for a significant chunk of time, and rather than adjusting to something new it's easier and more comfortable to want back what you had.

Kelli lets it slip that Lawrence is with someone knew, which Tiffany was also aware of. They know who she is and everything, but Issa claims she doesn't want to know. In the two seconds it takes to decry that claim, Molly finds Tasha's instagram profile. Tiffany offers some friendly shit-talking ("why does she only speak in emojis?") and Kelli says she looks like a stripper. Issa pretends like she doesn't want to know who she is.

Gallery bathroom. While Issa is doing her "go high or go low?" mirror freestyle, I am just mesmerized by her crown-mimicking braidout. Like. I wouldn't wear it because I couldn't pull it off, but it is fascinating on her. She decides going the high road is overrated, and when Molly comes to check on her, Issa snaps, "pull that bitch up!" The soundtrack that kicks in at that moment - bass heavy intoning "fuck that nigga" - pulls all of us back on the thrones we sometimes forget but need always to occupy.

The next day. For reasons that are unclear, Issa stops by Chad's apartment looking for Lawrence. Chad remarks on her glow up approvingly, which Issa awkwardly plays off. They have awkward small tight for a bit before Issa asks for Lawrence. Chad doesn't want to say where he really is, and if I had the skills/patience to make gifs, I'd insert one here now of the coy way he then slups on the straw of his beet juice. As it is, Issa concedes defeat and decides to leave.

It turns out Lawrence is at Tasha's, watching Defamation. I know that's not the name of their in-series show, but I can't be bothered to find out what it was, so I'm just going to call it the same as DWP's. Tasha is into it while Lawrence is aloof, and the thing that makes *me* most uncomfortable about Tasha - as stated, I do not buy into the thotty because she is traditional narrative - is her liking Real Housewives-y television and occupying that "black women in Atlanta" sort of social space. I do fully approve of her around the way girl oversized gold hoops.

Lawrence says he has things on his mind and Tasha, again refreshingly casually, asks whether he wants to talk about it. She gets a text from her mom, informing her about a family barbecue. She takes a moment and hints about whether or not Lawrence would like to come. Rather than pretend to be oblivious, Lawrence actually makes a noise like he acknowledges this time that he knows this would mean something, and Tasha, sensing his hesitation, immediately walks the invitation back. Lawrence decides to just drop that he slept with his ex. He tries to explain why it happens and says he just wants to be honest, and doesn't know what it means. Hmm. I don't know at this point in their relationship how big a deal this should be, so Tasha's measured response of "I think you need to go" is about level and appropriate. Oh MAYNE, she got that black glass and gold accented vanity mirror that I'm sure was a pattern we ALL had in our moms' bedrooms at some point.

Dunes. Issa is getting ready for bed, trying to resist looking up Tasha. Of course she isn't able to manage it, and pulls up Tasha's instagram.

Law firm. Molly rolls up on the front desk lady and they exchange pleasantries and niceties. Molly wants to know about a hockey game the bosses are going to. She is planning to shoot her shot and try to ingratiate herself into the "boy's club." "I'm scared of you," the front desk lady says neutrally, grinning and turning back to her computer.

Issa's boring after school job. The principle is prejudiced against latinos, Frieda doesn't like it, Issa is tone deaf. Blah blah blah.

So how do we feel about Chad's suit? Apparently he had to wait outside for Lawrence to express his disbelief that Lawrence told Tasha about Issa. Uh, how did he find out about that? lol. Lawrence says he couldn't lie about it because he's "not dirty like that." Chad, and all of us:

Seriously, what's up with Lawrence? He is delusional about his capacity for being a good dude. Which, to be perfectly frank with you, is not very surprising to me for a guy who could mooch off his girlfriend for two years and then be totally blindsided with her being dissatisfied and unhappy in the relationship. Lawrence can't believe he slept with Issa, thinking he was once step out the door away. Chad is overall not surprised that Lawrence went back to being a "John Legend ass nigga."

Apparently they are going to check out a new apartment for Lawrence. Why does Chad need to be there for that? Chad mentions that Issa came by looking for him, acknowledging her glow up: "did she always look like that?"

The broker is a black woman in an off white pantsuit. You know how sometimes you'll be watching white tv and you never see any black people until you need a bus driver or a maid or a nurse or some other menial service person? Insecure does this in reverse where most of the roles of businesspeople in the community are held by black women, which is truer to life. Anyway, she's Patty from ABG. The apartment seems to have disturbingly pale sea green walls which I would not be happy with. I'd feel like my entire apartment is a bloody bathroom from a scary movie. That's the exact same shade of sea foam green blue.

They like the apartment. It's pretty big. I know nothing about Los Angeles real estate but I assume it's extremely expensive. Lawrence is hesitant to commit, possibly because he wants an invite back to the Dunes. Who knows, the scene doesn't elaborate.

High School. Frieda is mad about Principal Gaines not caring about the latino students. She calls it a "racist joke" he made. Issa doesn't care, and Frieda's Clueless White Person rambling doesn't help. They arrive to the after school program to find it full of students. Gaines hooked them up with kids. Issa is thrilled but Frieda is concerned about the lack of latino students.

Molly is riding an escalator somewhere. Where ya going, Molly? Ooooh... eeeee... she's making the bold but fairly ill considered decision to try to rub elbows with the boys club in the box seats for a hockey game.

I don't begrudge Molly attempting to shoot her shot, but there have got to be more... shall we say organic ways for her to attempt it. We look like assholes popping up in entirely the wrong context like this. Now I'm having a flashback to an ill advised friendship with an overweight white woman who, time would reveal, primarily wanted to use me to get an in into black spaces where she could meet black men. But never fear, her black female friends were just as corny and thirsty: her black counterpart was this overweight chick who went out of her way to assure all of us how much she loved hockey and when she talked about basketball she made sure to only talk about the two or three white players on our home team. The thirst was real and it went in both directions, and that is tonight's anecdote on why I make very little effort to make female friends as an adult.

Back at the Dunes, Issa cannot resist the allure of her phone, holding the secrets as it does to Tasha's insta. Of course she eventually caves and we are treated to this snap filtered gem:

Doing the most. But followed up by this:

Loving the wig. Issa throws the phone down pretending she doesn't care, going back to her book.

Back at the hockey game, Molly's attempts to bond with middle aged white men is typically embarrassing. They're drinking shitty beer, Stella Artois as far as I can tell? Molly takes a moment then decides to shoot her shot, socially approaching her boss. He's wearing a ridiculous suit. They make small talk about lobster rolls, but Molly misses the timbre of the humor and her "women are clueless about sports" bit doesn't quite land. Which I'm going to go ahead and chalk up to a racial barrier because let's just admit it. It's not believable to pretend a black woman gives a fuck about hockey. I have sat around with white dudes and tried to watch hockey games. That shit is boring. They score once every fifteen minutes. Let us submit a blanket moratorium on black women appeasing whites by pretending to like hockey.

The next morning at work, Molly tries to maintain cordial commentary with her boss but it's awkward and they both wish it had never happened. She walks away from the break room while her boss and a random white man look awkwardly after her before going back to their conversation.

Hey. Don't you fucking hate that we have to do this shit?

Chad's. Lawrence is on his air mattress, looking pensive. Dune's. Issa is on her mac still stalking. She has progressed to facebook. Then she swaps to Twitter. Then she swaps to the LinkedIn. I have amazing internet stalking skills. I once found posts from a message board someone posted on anonymously in high school. I knew an ex of mine had gotten married like six months after I dumped him and I wanted to know who the wife was - that took licensed private investigator levels of digging because he had zero online footprint and a super generic name. I once found someone's professional license, which listed their contact number, saved the number to my phone, and used it to find their instagram page. Fuck with me dog. No one has shit on my internet stalking game. I'm not crazy just nosy as fuck.

Letsmovealong... Tasha's social media is meant, I'm thinking, to paint her as slightly basic. She has Beyonce quotes in the Beyonce font, she's wearing an uncomfortable suit in her linkedin pic. She takes pics eating jalepeno poppers in ecstasy. And, to be fair, I think that's the characterization we are meant to take away from Tasha. She isn't quirky like Issa. She's just "regular black." And I know that's a thing that people have had negative reactions to, so I don't mind telling you I aggressively defend "regular black." I live on the northside of my city, which is white neighborhoods. Every man I date has no less than a college degree and often a graduate or professional degree, as, having one myself, this only makes sense for finding someone with compatible values. So my ability to occupy a quirky, upwardly mobile black space must take responsibility for blackness as a whole, in the sense that it would be shameful for me to shun "regular blackness." Whenever I'm wearing curly 30 inch remy in my sew in and I meet randoms who ALWAYS ask me whether I'm latina I make SURE to put them in their place. Asking me whether I'm mixed. That's not a compliment, y'all. Don't be on the okcupids and the tinders talking about you're "other" race. I used to block men on sight with bedebees talking about some "Mixed race, other." Don't side with the oppressors. Don't shun regular blackness. (I have seen many, many black people do this, both male and female, and it is incredibly disheartening and disappointing. It's not just men. Women do it too. All of y'all need to stop.)

Issa realizes that Tasha works at the bank Lawrence goes to. So the next morning she takes it upon herself to take a visit, taking note of the Best Buy right next door. Issa goes inside and gets in Tasha's line. "I'd like to make a deposit," she says, and then cold-cocks Tasha. This, of course, is yet another fantasy.

But in real life, Molly is having a cup of espresso on some campus somewhere. Lawrence spots her and decides he's not petty enough to not say hi. I'm loving the linen denim blue button up, less endeared by the flat hipster leather backpack, but I don't mind the attempt. They hug with Molly surprised to see him - she was there for some meeting or other. Lawrence says it's "Meridian" which I know as a health insurer, but probably means something different as it's where he works. Molly's wear a midi dress and heels which... I remember those cut out shoulder cut out things from a time far far in the past, guys.

They make small talk about Lawrence's new job and how they're both "good." Lawrence makes to walk away but Molly, steeling herself, calls him back. She wants to talk about Issa, who she tells him is "still torn up." "And?" Lawrence says, rudely. Yeah, Lawrence has no concept of the fact that their relationship was garbage. Maybe it wasn't always, but where they were when we met them, their relationship was trash.

Molly champions Issa and asks whether he hates her. He says he doesn't, so Molly asks if he'd ever take her back. We don't get to see Lawrence's response as we swap to Issa in her car. She's still outside of the bank when Tasha walks past, talking to a friend. Issa drops the recline on her seat all the way back to hide. Molly calls at this moment, walking away from her conversation with Lawrence and carrying a fabulous pale tan attache case. She makes it clear to us that she was only there as a plant, to run into Lawrence so she could ask him about Issa. This is the new age adult version of the secret three way call.

Issa asks what Lawrence said about her. Molly apologizes, and breaks the bad news that Lawrence says he's done. He ended up taking the new apartment, so he's not coming back. Issa digests this in silence. Molly offers to come by but Issa tells her she's fine. She reclines in her car a bit longer into an annoying security guard comes by and tells her she can't sleep there.

Nighttime. Molly's still at work, skyping with Hannah, the lawyer who recently transferred to the Chicago office. They're both working late. My ambitions and skillset and also personal passions would seem to dictate that I should have been a lawyer. But even when I was much younger and just starting to think about what I wanted my life to look like, I never wanted to give more of a fuck about work than anything else in my life. Like, this being at the office at nighttime shit? No thank you. ....I kinda regret that now. You know? Maybe in the go-go 90s I took the trope of the serious businesswoman who doesn't have time for a man and a life and a family too seriously. I don't know.

Molly makes professional good with Hannah, offering to help with her workload - and this is kind of what I mean - in kind of like "I'm a workhorse, use me." Hannah is touched by the offer, and agrees to throw some work Molly's way, perhaps recognizing the ploy Molly is extending. So that one, at least, went over well.

Somewhere in LA. While Molly's in her office, Lawrence has stopped by Tasha's house. She comes out to meet him where he is waiting by his car. She's wearing ripped jeans and very clunky sneakers. When Lawrence says hi, she regards him coldly. He launches into an apology, telling Tasha she didn't deserve that. Tasha, still playing "cool girl" who doesn't make a big deal about the fucked up shit you're dealing, plays understanding, that she gets why he was still messing with his ex. She knows their relationship wasn't exclusive.

She's giving him an out. But Lawrence muddies this by saying his thing with Issa was over. Tasha tried to let him keep things casual, but his response signals that casual behavior isn't ok while they are seeing each other. Recognizing this, Tasha makes an excuse for why she has to go back inside.

But, at the last minute she just can't help it, and caves, asking him whether or not he wants to come in for dinner. Lawrence, who was walking away, stops and takes her up on it. Damnit, Tasha. You almost made it.

Dunes. Issa, in her hairscarf and tshirt again (this has been a dry week for Issa right?) is putting away her laundry. She is suddenly annoyed about hanging all of her clothes on one side of the closet. Lawrence's shit is gone. She angrily shelves her shit on the opposite side, and, in bed, pulls her pillow in the middle, grappling with the reality that Lawrence is really not coming back.

Swiper more swiping helps blunt some of the pain as Issa pulls up Tinder again, trying, still trying.

#insecure hbo #issa rae #hella questions

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insecure-hbo-the-recaps · 7 years

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hella questions

Previously on Insecure: A bunch of bad dates, missing Lawrence, trifling Lawrence, failed “get my ex back” party, Molly is way underpaid. And two minutes of ex sex.

“Y'all fucked?” is the incredulity that welcomes us to the second episode of the season. I can’t decide if I love or hate that Issa has one of those old school ugly wooden entertainment center things that I’m sure we ALL had growing up.

Issa is also wearing a hoodie with Harriet Tubman on it… though I can’t figure out what the two pictures on her wall are. Molly wants to know who initiated the sex and whether they’ve spoken since. They aren’t really in any better place, and Molly doesn’t find this encouraging. Issa is grasping at straws. Molly asks whether it was a getting back together fuck or a “fuck you” fuck. Hmmm. As someone who recently had sex with her ex that she’s still in love with… it was definitely neither lol. It was… well, actually, it was a “I put up this picture of me kissing another dude as my facebook profile pic so that everyone could stop feeling sorry for me for being single, but you think I moved on and am dating someone else and don’t love your trifling ass anymore and you got the nerve to have a jealous streak" kind of a fuck. This fool asked me like four times “so what’s new with you?” As if I would tell if it WAS true, lol. Anyway, the sex between Lawrence and Issa would fall in a similar category - dudes being in their insecure ass feelings but STILL not trying to give you the respect you deserve.

Issa calls the sex “nebulous.” Nebulous: unclear, vague, or ill defined. Molly is wary of drawing any conclusions based on this murky outcome, but Issa brightly tries to convince herself the sex means something good. Idk, girl. I don’t feel like that. I’m not even going to delude myself that way.

Lawrence is in the gym, because in case you haven’t noticed, he ain’t a capn crunch eating white socks scrub no more. He starts to text Issa that he made things weird and didn’t plan for it to happen, but thinks better of it and deletes it.

Meanwhile, Molly did stick with her therapist and is at a second session. Far from how close mouthed she had been before, she is ranting energetically about her stronger work ethic and going above and beyond but still being underpaid. Honestly, this is why I just solve this issue by half assing everything at work. I’m never going above and beyond. I will ALWAYS be a solid ¾ at annual performance review time. Fuck your five star review. This job don’t give a fuck about me and I don’t give a fuck about y'all. And when the pay stops being enough, my resume makes it easy for me to bounce and renegotiate a new salary. But Molly is not interested in conceding defeat and can’t understand why she can’t figure out a way to get into the all boy’s club. The therapist points out that Molly is “shoulding” all over herself. And if you watch this show, you’ve seen Sex and the City, so we don’t need to break down the logistics of this.

The therapist tries to tell Molly she’s living in the reality she thinks she should have, not the one she does have. Molly, naturally, doesn’t understand what she’s saying. The therapist tells her that there are certain standards levied at black women - and let’s take the time to point out the difference here… in the past, the standards of a black woman were to singlehandedly manage a household and all of its financial and functional needs, put yourself aside and be a supporting force for everyone else in your life, and maybe you might find a man but how can you expect that, and you shouldn’t, because it’s too hard, and well, if you can’t find one, maybe nice Willie the janitor will be there for you and don’t be thinking bout no law degree. That shit ain’t the move no more. These days the perfect standards of being a black woman are all about getting your 2013 self titled album Beyonce on - fulfilled in yourself and your life choices and not subscribing to any ideology that says you can’t be enough or what you have to offer isn’t valuable… with a slice of “even if no one else can see my value, I know it far exceeds that of many of those around me.” Later for settling. Later for accepting scraps. But now that opens the door to a battle that’s twice as hard, choosing to except the ways in which you are exceptional, in a world that is not willing to agree with you purely because… you are a black woman.

The therapist asks Molly if she would be open to a life that doesn’t look like the one she thinks she “should” have. Molly isn’t ready to grapple with that idea, and demurs on scheduling the next session. See what I’m saying? Bitches afraid to look at themselves.

Gallery opening. Which, again, is a little too close to Sex and the City for me, but I don’t know what y'all be doing in California or New York. Gallery openings ain’t a thing in Chicago. The four of them are talking about Issa’s party. Tiffany is being annoyingly bougie as usual, Kelli is only mildly extra. I don’t… I don’t know what to say about these outfits.

I fully respect everything Insecure is doing. But I’d be a damn lie if I said… it was very… right, I suppose. It wouldn’t be the route I’d take if it were my show, I guess is what I’d say. They are trying to decide plans for the weekend but Issa doesn’t want to go out clubbing - she thinks sleeping with Lawrene means a reunion is imminent so she can’t really be going out anymore. Tiffany decides to empathize and shares that her gay husband lived in a hotel for basically half a year while they were going through something. “The point is, even perfect couples have problems,” Tiffany says, and I’m not looking forward to the season where they try to humanize Tiffany by showing she hides behind all this “perfect” bullshit to cover up the fact that she is miserably depressed and hates herself. I accidentally paused at a moment that captures this sentiment:

Issa thinks she just needs to give Lawrence time to forgive her; he can’t just walk away from five years like that. Every single time I’ve thought I offered something so incredibly unique to a man he’d be stupid to walk away from it, I was patently, 100% wrong. Kelli points out that for 2 of those years his bum ass mooched off on her couch and Issa should move on. Issa wants to work it out. But… really? Why would Issa want to still be with Lawrence? She wasn’t happy with him, that’s why she cheated in the first place. And I’m not buying that she saw the error of her ways and truly wants the life they had together in the end. More like being single is shit, especially when you’ve had someone as your counterpart for a significant chunk of time, and rather than adjusting to something new it’s easier and more comfortable to want back what you had.

Kelli lets it slip that Lawrence is with someone knew, which Tiffany was also aware of. They know who she is and everything, but Issa claims she doesn’t want to know. In the two seconds it takes to decry that claim, Molly finds Tasha’s instagram profile. Tiffany offers some friendly shit-talking (“why does she only speak in emojis?”) and Kelli says she looks like a stripper. Issa pretends like she doesn’t want to know who she is.

Gallery bathroom. While Issa is doing her “go high or go low?” mirror freestyle, I am just mesmerized by her crown-mimicking braidout. Like. I wouldn’t wear it because I couldn’t pull it off, but it is fascinating on her. She decides going the high road is overrated, and when Molly comes to check on her, Issa snaps, “pull that bitch up!” The soundtrack that kicks in at that moment - bass heavy intoning “fuck that nigga” - pulls all of us back on the thrones we sometimes forget but need always to occupy.

The next day. For reasons that are unclear, Issa stops by Chad’s apartment looking for Lawrence. Chad remarks on her glow up approvingly, which Issa awkwardly plays off. They have awkward small tight for a bit before Issa asks for Lawrence. Chad doesn’t want to say where he really is, and if I had the skills/patience to make gifs, I’d insert one here now of the coy way he then slups on the straw of his beet juice. As it is, Issa concedes defeat and decides to leave.

It turns out Lawrence is at Tasha’s, watching Defamation. I know that’s not the name of their in-series show, but I can’t be bothered to find out what it was, so I’m just going to call it the same as DWP’s. Tasha is into it while Lawrence is aloof, and the thing that makes *me* most uncomfortable about Tasha - as stated, I do not buy into the thotty because she is traditional narrative - is her liking Real Housewives-y television and occupying that “black women in Atlanta” sort of social space. I do fully approve of her around the way girl oversized gold hoops.

Lawrence says he has things on his mind and Tasha, again refreshingly casually, asks whether he wants to talk about it. She gets a text from her mom, informing her about a family barbecue. She takes a moment and hints about whether or not Lawrence would like to come. Rather than pretend to be oblivious, Lawrence actually makes a noise like he acknowledges this time that he knows this would mean something, and Tasha, sensing his hesitation, immediately walks the invitation back. Lawrence decides to just drop that he slept with his ex. He tries to explain why it happens and says he just wants to be honest, and doesn’t know what it means. Hmm. I don’t know at this point in their relationship how big a deal this should be, so Tasha’s measured response of “I think you need to go” is about level and appropriate. Oh MAYNE, she got that black glass and gold accented vanity mirror that I’m sure was a pattern we ALL had in our moms’ bedrooms at some point.

Dunes. Issa is getting ready for bed, trying to resist looking up Tasha. Of course she isn’t able to manage it, and pulls up Tasha’s instagram.

Law firm. Molly rolls up on the front desk lady and they exchange pleasantries and niceties. Molly wants to know about a hockey game the bosses are going to. She is planning to shoot her shot and try to ingratiate herself into the “boy’s club.” “I’m scared of you,” the front desk lady says neutrally, grinning and turning back to her computer.

Issa’s boring after school job. The principle is prejudiced against latinos, Frieda doesn’t like it, Issa is tone deaf. Blah blah blah.

So how do we feel about Chad’s suit? Apparently he had to wait outside for Lawrence to express his disbelief that Lawrence told Tasha about Issa. Uh, how did he find out about that? lol. Lawrence says he couldn’t lie about it because he’s “not dirty like that.” Chad, and all of us:

Seriously, what’s up with Lawrence? He is delusional about his capacity for being a good dude. Which, to be perfectly frank with you, is not very surprising to me for a guy who could mooch off his girlfriend for two years and then be totally blindsided with her being dissatisfied and unhappy in the relationship. Lawrence can’t believe he slept with Issa, thinking he was once step out the door away. Chad is overall not surprised that Lawrence went back to being a “John Legend ass nigga.”

The broker is a black woman in an off white pantsuit. You know how sometimes you’ll be watching white tv and you never see any black people until you need a bus driver or a maid or a nurse or some other menial service person? Insecure does this in reverse where most of the roles of businesspeople in the community are held by black women, which is truer to life. Anyway, she’s Patty from ABG. The apartment seems to have disturbingly pale sea green walls which I would not be happy with. I’d feel like my entire apartment is a bloody bathroom from a scary movie. That’s the exact same shade of sea foam green blue.

They like the apartment. It’s pretty big. I know nothing about Los Angeles real estate but I assume it’s extremely expensive. Lawrence is hesitant to commit, possibly because he wants an invite back to the Dunes. Who knows, the scene doesn’t elaborate.

High School. Frieda is mad about Principal Gaines not caring about the latino students. She calls it a “racist joke” he made. Issa doesn’t care, and Frieda’s Clueless White Person rambling doesn’t help. They arrive to the after school program to find it full of students. Gaines hooked them up with kids. Issa is thrilled but Frieda is concerned about the lack of latino students.

Molly is riding an escalator somewhere. Where ya going, Molly? Ooooh… eeeee… she’s making the bold but fairly ill considered decision to try to rub elbows with the boys club in the box seats for a hockey game.

I don’t begrudge Molly attempting to shoot her shot, but there have got to be more… shall we say organic ways for her to attempt it. We look like assholes popping up in entirely the wrong context like this. Now I’m having a flashback to an ill advised friendship with an overweight white woman who, time would reveal, primarily wanted to use me to get an in into black spaces where she could meet black men. But never fear, her black female friends were just as corny and thirsty: her black counterpart was this overweight chick who went out of her way to assure all of us how much she loved hockey and when she talked about basketball she made sure to only talk about the two or three white players on our home team. The thirst was real and it went in both directions, and that is tonight’s anecdote on why I make very little effort to make female friends as an adult.

Back at the Dunes, Issa cannot resist the allure of her phone, holding the secrets as it does to Tasha’s insta. Of course she eventually caves and we are treated to this snap filtered gem:

Doing the most. But followed up by this:

Loving the wig. Issa throws the phone down pretending she doesn’t care, going back to her book.

Back at the hockey game, Molly’s attempts to bond with middle aged white men is typically embarrassing. They’re drinking shitty beer, Stella Artois as far as I can tell? Molly takes a moment then decides to shoot her shot, socially approaching her boss. He’s wearing a ridiculous suit. They make small talk about lobster rolls, but Molly misses the timbre of the humor and her “women are clueless about sports” bit doesn’t quite land. Which I’m going to go ahead and chalk up to a racial barrier because let’s just admit it. It’s not believable to pretend a black woman gives a fuck about hockey. I have sat around with white dudes and tried to watch hockey games. That shit is boring. They score once every fifteen minutes. Let us submit a blanket moratorium on black women appeasing whites by pretending to like hockey.

The next morning at work, Molly tries to maintain cordial commentary with her boss but it’s awkward and they both wish it had never happened. She walks away from the break room while her boss and a random white man look awkwardly after her before going back to their conversation.

Hey. Don’t you fucking hate that we have to do this shit?

Chad’s. Lawrence is on his air mattress, looking pensive. Dune’s. Issa is on her mac still stalking. She has progressed to facebook. Then she swaps to Twitter. Then she swaps to the LinkedIn. I have amazing internet stalking skills. I once found posts from a message board someone posted on anonymously in high school. I knew an ex of mine had gotten married like six months after I dumped him and I wanted to know who the wife was - that took licensed private investigator levels of digging because he had zero online footprint and a super generic name. I once found someone’s professional license, which listed their contact number, saved the number to my phone, and used it to find their instagram page. Fuck with me dog. No one has shit on my internet stalking game. I’m not crazy just nosy as fuck.

Letsmovealong… Tasha’s social media is meant, I’m thinking, to paint her as slightly basic. She has Beyonce quotes in the Beyonce font, she’s wearing an uncomfortable suit in her linkedin pic. She takes pics eating jalepeno poppers in ecstasy. And, to be fair, I think that’s the characterization we are meant to take away from Tasha. She isn’t quirky like Issa. She’s just “regular black.” And I know that’s a thing that people have had negative reactions to, so I don’t mind telling you I aggressively defend “regular black.” I live on the northside of my city, which is white neighborhoods. Every man I date has no less than a college degree and often a graduate or professional degree, as, having one myself, this only makes sense for finding someone with compatible values. So my ability to occupy a quirky, upwardly mobile black space must take responsibility for blackness as a whole, in the sense that it would be shameful for me to shun “regular blackness.” Whenever I’m wearing curly 30 inch remy in my sew in and I meet randoms who ALWAYS ask me whether I’m latina I make SURE to put them in their place. Asking me whether I’m mixed. That’s not a compliment, y'all. Don’t be on the okcupids and the tinders talking about you’re “other” race. I used to block men on sight with bedebees talking about some “Mixed race, other.” Don’t side with the oppressors. Don’t shun regular blackness. (I have seen many, many black people do this, both male and female, and it is incredibly disheartening and disappointing. It’s not just men. Women do it too. All of y'all need to stop.)

Issa realizes that Tasha works at the bank Lawrence goes to. So the next morning she takes it upon herself to take a visit, taking note of the Best Buy right next door. Issa goes inside and gets in Tasha’s line. “I’d like to make a deposit,” she says, and then cold-cocks Tasha. This, of course, is yet another fantasy.

But in real life, Molly is having a cup of espresso on some campus somewhere. Lawrence spots her and decides he’s not petty enough to not say hi. I’m loving the linen denim blue button up, less endeared by the flat hipster leather backpack, but I don’t mind the attempt. They hug with Molly surprised to see him - she was there for some meeting or other. Lawrence says it’s “Meridian” which I know as a health insurer, but probably means something different as it’s where he works. Molly’s wear a midi dress and heels which… I remember those cut out shoulder cut out things from a time far far in the past, guys.

They make small talk about Lawrence’s new job and how they’re both “good.” Lawrence makes to walk away but Molly, steeling herself, calls him back. She wants to talk about Issa, who she tells him is “still torn up.” “And?” Lawrence says, rudely. Yeah, Lawrence has no concept of the fact that their relationship was garbage. Maybe it wasn’t always, but where they were when we met them, their relationship was trash.

Molly champions Issa and asks whether he hates her. He says he doesn’t, so Molly asks if he’d ever take her back. We don’t get to see Lawrence’s response as we swap to Issa in her car. She’s still outside of the bank when Tasha walks past, talking to a friend. Issa drops the recline on her seat all the way back to hide. Molly calls at this moment, walking away from her conversation with Lawrence and carrying a fabulous pale tan attache case. She makes it clear to us that she was only there as a plant, to run into Lawrence so she could ask him about Issa. This is the new age adult version of the secret three way call.

Issa asks what Lawrence said about her. Molly apologizes, and breaks the bad news that Lawrence says he’s done. He ended up taking the new apartment, so he’s not coming back. Issa digests this in silence. Molly offers to come by but Issa tells her she’s fine. She reclines in her car a bit longer into an annoying security guard comes by and tells her she can’t sleep there.

Nighttime. Molly’s still at work, skyping with Hannah, the lawyer who recently transferred to the Chicago office. They’re both working late. My ambitions and skillset and also personal passions would seem to dictate that I should have been a lawyer. But even when I was much younger and just starting to think about what I wanted my life to look like, I never wanted to give more of a fuck about work than anything else in my life. Like, this being at the office at nighttime shit? No thank you. ….I kinda regret that now. You know? Maybe in the go-go 90s I took the trope of the serious businesswoman who doesn’t have time for a man and a life and a family too seriously. I don’t know.

Molly makes professional good with Hannah, offering to help with her workload - and this is kind of what I mean - in kind of like “I’m a workhorse, use me.” Hannah is touched by the offer, and agrees to throw some work Molly’s way, perhaps recognizing the ploy Molly is extending. So that one, at least, went over well.

Somewhere in LA. While Molly’s in her office, Lawrence has stopped by Tasha’s house. She comes out to meet him where he is waiting by his car. She’s wearing ripped jeans and very clunky sneakers. When Lawrence says hi, she regards him coldly. He launches into an apology, telling Tasha she didn’t deserve that. Tasha, still playing “cool girl” who doesn’t make a big deal about the fucked up shit you’re dealing, plays understanding, that she gets why he was still messing with his ex. She knows their relationship wasn’t exclusive.

She’s giving him an out. But Lawrence muddies this by saying his thing with Issa was over. Tasha tried to let him keep things casual, but his response signals that casual behavior isn’t ok while they are seeing each other. Recognizing this, Tasha makes an excuse for why she has to go back inside.

But, at the last minute she just can’t help it, and caves, asking him whether or not he wants to come in for dinner. Lawrence, who was walking away, stops and takes her up on it. Damnit, Tasha. You almost made it.

Dunes. Issa, in her hairscarf and tshirt again (this has been a dry week for Issa right?) is putting away her laundry. She is suddenly annoyed about hanging all of her clothes on one side of the closet. Lawrence’s shit is gone. She angrily shelves her shit on the opposite side, and, in bed, pulls her pillow in the middle, grappling with the reality that Lawrence is really not coming back.

Swiper more swiping helps blunt some of the pain as Issa pulls up Tinder again, trying, still trying.

0 notes

gulescamisade · 7 years

Text

Alaska: Day 24, New Rebel Base

[[ They've arrived in the next rebel base, their giant insectoid "pilot" coming to a stop at a large growth of moss and flowers on the cavern ceiling to munch away. A rebel conductor helps them out of the basket and back into the tunnels, where they're informed once again that they stand to meet the small group that will lead them to the lusus keeping hold and assist them in securing their transport to Minnesota. They wait in a room while the troupe is summoned. ]]

REDGLARE: -She found it kind of peaceful, on the giant bug basket. A lot of time to think. Now she's hobbling off and having to walk again hurts a whole fuckload, don't it? Urgh. She leans back and folds her arms as she waits.-

[[ The bandages have gotta be hella itchy, too. ]]

REDGLARE: >;/

LATULA: -WALKING BACK AND FOURTH A BUNCH NO LESS-

DAVE: -he's been compliant and talking incessantly but hey, he's alive. the room they're in makes a nice shelter, but he's antsy- heres an idea

DAVE: teleporters

MINDFANG: -The bug basket wasnt awful, but still she was glad to be moving along. The sooner the better really. And also not having to move much after her chest trauma was great, but now was the time to suck it up again and she leans against one of the walls while digging her fingers into the small crevices of her bionic arm to see if she can adjust anything in there to make it any semblance of slightly more functional.-

HESONY: =mrrrg... He approached Mindfang and made a gesture towards her arm. In addition to that, he makes a face at her digging.= :\

MICEXA: -how rich do u think this operation is-

MICEXA: -that's the look she is currently giving Dave, but she quickly readjusts to look at Sunny-

MINDFANG: -Slowly looks up at him, do you see the look in her one eye? Do you see how she imagines destroying you.-

MINFANG: Can I help you.

HESONY: At the rate you're going, your arm is gonna go limper than a droopy bulge.

HESONY: =He held out his hand offering and open= Let me Help you?

LATULA: (pff h4h44h4h4h4h4h4)

DAVE: nice

MINDFANG: -Turns her death glare briefly on Latula.-

MINDFANG: Your use of descriptors m8kes it almost impossi8le to say no. -Shes being sarcastic.-

LATULA: >8P

HESONY: That makes it all easier then. =with one hand he took her arm and inspected it, running a finger over a nasty looking puncture.=

MINDFANG: -EXCUSE.-

MINDFANG: -Sorry hes getting punched in the face, you dont just grab someones arm. Here comes her fist.-

LALTULA: OH SN4P DOG

HESONY: =well he should have expected that tbh=

HESONY: =the blow staggers him and he straightened from it, wiping blue from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.=

HESONY: You do realize punching me only exacerbates the problem.

MINDFANG: -Yeah it kind of did, her metal hand struggles to open again, making several clicking noises as the fingers uncurl.- Yes I am aware.

MINDFANG: And it was still worth it. -She almost smiles when she sees the blood. Almost. Its satisfying.-

MICEXA: !!

MICEXA: -SLIDES IN BETWEEN THEM AGGRESSIVELY-

MINDFANG: -DO YOU WANT A PUNCH TOO? She will give them out for free.-

MINDFANG: -Eyes her as she cradles her arm.-

REDGLARE: Stop 1t.

REDGLARE: W3'v3 got mor3 f1ghts 4h34d of us.

REDGLARE: L3t h1m f1x 1t.

DAVE: we also got a lot of distance to travel

DAVE: before the fights

HESONY: =he sneered from around Miss= Just thought you ought to know you Have a malfunctioning piston and the shock absorbers are shot to Hell.

HESONY: However I don't entirely blame you. Most of your group is rather dull-witted.

DAVE: maybe were gonna spice it up

DAVE: bam traveling fights

DAVE: wheres my goddamn train

DAVE: gotta bounce on the cars

MINDFANG: I can travel fine with it in this condition, and o8viously it is still useful enough to fight. -Just not...ideal. She can make it work.-

MINDFANG: And what makes you so qualified to make the repairs anyway.

HESONY: ...

HESONY: You Have got to be kidding—

HESONY: =he pulled off his right glove and clenched and unclenched his metal hand.=

MINDFANG: -Watches him, unimpressed.- Having a 8ionic replacement does not qualify you to fix one.

MICEXA: -pinches the bridge of her nose... sunny why... why must you care so much and be so cute-

HESONY: Things work differently in the League.

HESONY: You learn or you die.

HESONY: =not cute. bamf. look at me=

MICEXA: -YEAH BUT U CUTE THO-

[ !!! SUDDENLY !!! A truck with enormous mud and slush caked treads pulls in outside, seeming to grind down the rough terrain with ease. There's some kind of machine gun rotating around the roof although its' not currently in use. There are several trolls hanging off of it. If the gang is inside, they can hear the roar of the motor signalling it's arrival. VRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOM. (do u like my sfx) ]

MINDFANG: Thats no new knowledge. Any wriggler worth its half formed 8rain cells should know that.

HEITOR: -snuffles while hanging off the edge of the truck. HE IS A BIG.-

AQUILA: -actually is one of the unlucky folk stuffed inside with the gigantic driver :[-

HESONY: That is more than enough to be qualified. What, do you require a certificate?

LATULA: -peeps outside to look at the truck-

LATULA: uh yo.

LATULA: w3 w41t1n on som3on3 h3r3?

MINDFANG: I might considering I have no personal investment in trusting your word-- -Turns to look at Latula.-

HEITOR: -GASMASK STARES FROM OUTSIDE. Heseems to be hauling some kind of gigantic backpack, along with several toolboxes worth of tools on his belt and pants.-

LATULA: uhh

LATuLA: y3s.

HESONY: FINE. Let it fall apart or become dead weight, but don't make this a liability to everyone else.

HESONY: =He finally glanced up as they exited the vehicle.= Apparently.

REDGLARE: -HOBBLING TO EXIT AND SHOVES THE DOOR OPEN HARSHLY, staring at the truck.-

REDGLARE: Who 1s your l34d3r.

MINDFANG: -Thats harsh redglare.-

HEITOR: -SNORTS behind his mask, adjusting a nozzle on his backpack.-

DAVE: now the partys here

ULFURA: -She ALSO hangs off the outside of the truck, trying to peek around Heitor to see the new guys and having a REALLY HARD TIME.- HEEEYYY???

REDGLARE: 1s th4t you?

HEITOR: -SNORTS again and leans back.-

ULFURA: NO!!! ARE YOU KIDDING???

ULFURA: -LEAPS from the truck to eyeball them -- yeah, she is smol. SHE SQUINT.-

DAVE: this looks like a fun one

MINDFANG: -Small and squinty? What a combination.-

URSAIS: -Has difficulty parking. Eventually gives up and just KICKS DOOR OF THE TRUCK OPEN with furry boot. Out comes the burr troll. She is enormous, WIDE AND LONG even compared to someone like Heitor. - o'hm serRRy bout the trRuck fuckin rRickety piece a shit. AY.

HEITOR: -GRUNTS and punches ursais in the arm.-

HEITOR: -DONT INSULT HIS HANDIWORK-

ULFURA: -frankly just dwarfed by every single one of these guys-

REDGLARE: ...

REDGLARE: -focuses on the BIG and sighs-

REDGLARE: So you 4r3.

URSAIS: -rubs her arm and GRUNTS AT HIM.- we'rRe 'erRe to pick up some fellow rRRRebels. owch. look all i'm sayin is knowin how big somuv us 'rRr you coula opted ferR somethin' a little biggerR.

URSAIS: NYWAYS.

URSAIS: who do i gotta talk to to get this shit rRollin. -LOOKS ARUND.-

MICEXA: ....

MICEXA: -looks between the UU members-

HEITOR: -SNORTS.-

LATULA: yo.

ULFURA: ...

ULFURA: WELL SOMEBODY SAY SOMETHING???

ULFURA: -points at Latula- YOU???

URSAIS: -gdi ulfura out of the mouths of babes...but yeah this is kind of awkward.-

LATULA: M3?????

URSAIS: look it was my underRRstandin that some peple needed ta get to minnesodey??? SO SPEAK TH' FUCK UP.

LATULA: OH SH1 T 1 M34N. uh. sh1t. 1 D1D s4y th4t.

LATULA: y3s w3—

REDGLARE: Y3s.

REDGLARE: M1nn3sot4. Soon 4s poss1bl3.

REDGLARE: W3'v3 got oth3r cr3w to m33t w1th.

REDGLARE: C4n you do 1t?

LATULA: >8T

HESONY: =he's not saying anything. he might get punched in the face again.=

DAVE: they better do it

URSAIS: -SHE IS KIND OF GIVING THE LEGISCERATORS THE STINK EYE.-

MICEXA: -shifts. EVEN MORE AWKWARD.-

MINDFANG: -You might get punched regardless, you are never safe.-

AQUILA: -floating- g'day ladies n gents! :D

HESONY: =squints right back at her=

LATULA: h4h4 soz l1k3. 1M l4tz pyrop3 but you 4ll tot3z h34rd of m3 b3for3.

ULFURA: COURSE WE CAN DO IT!!!

LATULA: (PL34S3.)

ULFURA: ... -looks up at Heitor- (WHO???)

URSAIS: -kinda cuts through everyone to get to Redglare- well 's wut the feck we'rRe e'rRe to find out but i ain't givin no garRentees. wuz a hell of a time even gettin erRe at all, but i think we'rRe yerRr best bet. cuz we gota n ace up ourR sleeves and it's sure as shit not this trRuck. we gonna trRy an trRavel by airR.

URSAIS: and once we get to minny sody we'rRe gonna help y'alll rRip our mutual enemies ta shrReds.

URSAIS: -grins-

REDGLARE: ...

REDGLARE: 4lr1ght.

REDGLARE: R3dgl4r3.

REDGLARE: R34dy wh3n you 4r3.

MINDFANG: Sounds enticing.

URSAIS: my name is capn urRsais arRcone and this here's mah crew. -GESTURES TO THEM. APPRECIATE THEM. SHE'S PROUD.-

URSAIS: -ESPECIALLY OF YOU, ULFURA.-

HEITOR: -HISSES OUT A NOISE THAT SOUNDS LIKE 'HI'-

HESONY: =blandly=

HESONY: Charmed.

URSAIS: i wasn't specially talkin to YEW.

URSAIS: -OWLTURNS-

MINDFANG: -Get told Hesony.-

ULFURA: -BOUNCES IN PLACE. YES, NOTICE HER.-

HESONY: And that is some kind of problem?

LATULA: -loudly SULKS-

MICEXA: -rests a hand on his arm- Sunny-- Don't.

LATULA: -man she can't even be famous as a criminal-

ULFURA: -she doesn't watch enough TV to know you... tbh she doesn't know most of you. BUT SHE LIKES THAT SMALL WEIRDO LOOKING ONE, THE RED GUY WITH THE FINS. She's pretty sure he's a guy who would angry squat.-

URSAIS: -VAGUE SWEEPING GESTURE.- arRight well you lot get all yerRR shit redy trRy to travel as light as possible tho.

REDGLARE: W3 lost most of our b3long1ngs.

REDGLARE: 1t's just us.

URSAIS: -grunts- we gon have to do sum walkin firRst and no offense but y'all look like yerR one foot in the grR...-stops..glances at all these people with amputated limbs- o sorRy...um

URSAIS: ...nyways. ye. bundle up n stuff and we'll go.

URSAIS: the trRuck is a little too conspicious so we'rRe just gon leave it. -glances at Heitor apologetically.-

REDGLARE: -wise...-

HEITOR: -GRUNTS-

LATULA: 41ght.

URSAIS: -DON'T GRUNT AT HER LIKE THAT, IT'S NOT HER FAULT.-

URSAIS: ey y'all elp anybody that can't make it on theirR own.

HEITOR: -he can and will carry u-

URSAIS: -SHE COULD CARRY LIKE...THREE OF YOU.-

HESONY: =so could he but no one want him to touch them=

URSAIS: -THEN DON'T BEAT EM UP SO MUCH NEXT TIME GOOD GOD.-

MINDFANG: -Yeah jeez.-

HESONY: =Then maybe warnings should be heeded next time, sheesh.=

URSIAS: -FUCKIN highbloods.-

URSAIS: -FUCKIN GOVERNMENT HIGHBLOODS.-

MINDFANG: -Gets the urge to punch Hesony again. But thats pretty normal.-

MINDFANG: Then lets get moving.

HEITOR: -LUMBERING FORWARD.-

LATULA: -she is not lumbering... but she ain't sprightly, either.-

LATULA: soz w3r3 you 4t th3 4tt4ck down th3 w4y wh3n w3 got p1ck3d up?

HESONY: =you castist pos. there's at least five highbloods in this UU group.=

ULFURA: -she will be sprightly for the BOTH OF YOU. bounces ahead of them-

MINDFANG: -Goodbye comfortable wall, shes walking.-

URSAIS: -YE BUT THEY'RE FAMOUS REBELS. IT'S DIFFERENT.-

HESONY: =NO IT'S NOT=

URSAIS: -PROBABLY HELPING DAELOS WALK. Anybody else? She's got a free arm.-

MITUNA: -Floats quietly-

[[ It's cold and snowy out still, and that and the darkness offers them a fair amount of general cover. It shouldn't be a terribly far walk to the lusus holding encampment, but they'll have to go through some woods on the way. ]]

REDGLARE: -no thank u she will FORCE HER WAY THROUGH THE PAIN-

REDLGARE: -GRAHH-

MICEXA: -redglare pls...-

MINDFANG: -Redglare please.-

URSAIS: -Just gives her a weird look??? Buti it's noen of her business.-

MINDFANG: -Keeping her eye on Redglare just in case she falls.-

MICEXA: -she hesitantly... offers Redglare an arm.-

MICEXA: -LET HER HELP YOU DAMMIT-

MINDFANG: -Redglare dont do, dont let them help you. She squint.-

DAVE: -with the gang- do we have to go through the woods again

REDGLARE: -WELL if mindfang is gonna refuse then shell take it-

REDGLARE: -ALWAYS DO THE OPPOSITE-

MINDFANG: -TRAITOR.-

MINDFANG: -Shes judging you so hard right now.-

MICEXA: -thank u... she wraps the arm around Redglare to help support her-

HESONY: =makes a frustrated noise somewhere in the back=

MICEXA: -between the two of us we have two whole legs-

MICEXA: -it's like we're almost a whole functioning person-

REDGLARE: -minus one eye-

TEREZI: =eyes are overrated=

URSAIS: -She's scarcely seen a sorrier looking group of people.-

LATULA: uh y34h 1m w1th h1m tbh.

LATULA: gonn4 h4v3 fuck1n for3st n1ghtm4r3z.

MITUNA: -Flaps his nub-

MINDFANG: Just do your 8est to ignore it. -At Latula and Dave, despite feeling pretty on edge about going into the woods too...-

DAVE: got it DAVE: great

LATULA: 1m just s4y1n fuck tr33z.

URSAIS: o yea i ferRgot ta answerR ya. we weren't so much in the fightin as mowin thrRough it.

AQUILA: and it turned out just beaut. :)

LATULA: r4d.

HEITOR: O (oo) O

HESONY: (Must be mowing through small fry. Of course you'd be able to beat fodder.)

HEITOR: -HEAVILY BREATHES OVER HESONY'S SHOULDER-

HEITOR: O (oo) O

MITUNA: 7alk 5hi7 ge7 hi7

MITUNA: (he5 a one man apocalyp5e)

HEITOR: -THANK U MITUNA-

HESONY: You don't know that. You only just met these people!

MITUNA: L00K 47 H1M -Gestures at him-

ULFURA: HE'S A ONE MAN CHEESEBURGER APOCALYPSE!!!

HAITOR: -reaches a meaty hand over and ruffles ulfura's hair.-

HAITOR: -SCAMP-

ULFURA: -punches Heitor in the buttcheek. She's buttcheek height right???-

ULFURA: -YEAH THAT'S WHAT YOU GET.-

HAITOR: -yes-

HESONY: =Just...DRAGS his hands down his face=

URSAIS: acutally thas a preddy accurRate scription..

MITUNA: you merely adop7ed 7he darkne55 he wa5 born in i7 molded by i7 by 7he 7ime he 5aw 7he ligh7 he wa5 a man

HAITOR: DOCTORATE... IN ENGINEERING...

URSAIS: -looks at this tiny psiionic. who hurt you to make u like this.-

HAITOR: -vents some steam from his backpack-

URSAIS: jesus trRoll chrRist.

MITUNA: -Sunny!-

URSAIS: we know u got koali-fee-cations. we GED IT.

HAITOR: -GRUNTS-

ULFURA: -grunts also, but HIGHER, and more sassy.-

HAITOR: -WOW-

MITUNA: -Floats around Roadh-- Haitor-

HESONY: =snaps at mindfang and gestures at...ALL of Haitor= Here's your fucking certification, must be your lucky day!

MITUNA: (he big mad)

MINDFANG: -Slow turns to Hesony and raises her fist ever so slightly.-

URSAIS: -also gives him a Look like boy she redy 2 fight.-

MINDFANG: Calm down already.

URSAIS: -elirah would get mad at her tho for gettin off task...-

MICEXA: Hesony--!

MINDFANG: We get it, it is o8vious you do not like them. But good news no one else here enjoys your presence either.

HAITOR: -he'll totally fight... but the mention of his koala fictions distracts him a second and he TURNS towards Mindfang.-

HAITOR: -slaps his own arm corresponding to mindfang's cybernetic limb and points to her-

HESONY: =He's smiling. All the stress of the past month has totally worn him down= You sure you wanna do that?

HESONY: Your arm will likely break before my face does. :D

MINDFANG: -BOY.-

MINDFANG: -Looks at Haitor, and others. You see him asking for it right?-

NYALAH: -turning in her grave being in proximity to the magnitude of this blueblood fuckboi. Jfc.-

HAITOR: -STARES-

URSAIS: -GROWLS- ey! quit yer shit 'fore i get angrRy this ain't no leuiserRly strRolll this is serRious.

HESONY: =Nyalah, you dont even get to, youre the reason Terezi died=

MITUNA: Y34H 817CH ehehehe

MINDFANG: -Better be calling Hesony a bitch.-

MITUNA: -He'll leave it to interpretation-

MINDFANG: -She huffs though and turns her gaze forward again.-

URSAIS: less play the quiet game, yeah? til we get therRe.

URSAIS: we'rRe nearRly to the encampment.

URSAIS: got some steep turrRain comin up firRst tho.

MITUNA: 573PP1N 0N 7H3 834CH

HESONY: =His face is just=

HESONY: =BLUE=

MINDFANG: How steep is steep?

DAVE: im guessing steep

HESONY: What? Can't Handle a little rock wall?

MINDFANG: I can. 8ut we have group mem8ers missing lim8s thanks to you.

REDGLARE: >;I

REDGLARE: -well she wasn't going to point it out but-

MICEXA: -INTERNALLY SCREAMING-

MINDFANG: And so traversing any extreme terrain might prove extremely difficult on them. 8ut yeah clearly they are fucking weak 8ecause they cant "Handle a rock wall." thank you for pointing that out.

HESONY: (I'd say it's pretty much even. Terezi's dead thanks to you.)

URSAIS: shut yerR damn mouth, i don't wanna hafta say it gain.

MITUNA: (no you)

HESONY: (No, you.)

MINDFANG: -Wigglers. Both of you.-

URSAIS: fuck me right up my furRy nook. -grumbling.-

HEITOR: -stares at ursais. maybe they can throw them-

URSAIS: -it's seeming more and more appealing...-

MITUNA: -Flips sunny off-

HESONY: =Tuna gets the double bird=

MITUNA: -Plarps him in the face with a psionic snowball-

HESONY: =SPUTTERING=

MITUNA: ehehehe

HESONY: =beans Mituna dead center with a manually made one.=

URSAIS: -SHE JUST....CANNOT BELIEV.E-

MITUNA: -DOOF!-

MITUNA: -That's it, he just shakes lose an entire tree branch of snow onto Sunny's head-

REDGLARE: -she's not even gonna try to stop this.-

HESONY: GAHHH!!!

HESONY: =Takes out his shield and uses it to scoop snow off the ground with it= HESONY: EAT POWERDY WHITE SHIT!

URSAIS: -that's it. she's grabbing Hesony by the arm and dragging him none to gently to the front of the line with her-

MINDFANG: -Jfc guys.-

MICEXA: HESONY!!!!!!!

MITUNA: -makes a lil psionic barrier. Unbothered.-

URSAIS: -barks in his face- WALK! AND DON'T DO NOTHIN ELSE!!!

HESONY: =Wrenches his arm from Ursais's grip. There is a brief staredown=

HESONY: Don't. Touch me. Again.

HESONY: =And with that he does start walking again. If they're good at anything it's following orders.=

MITUNA: -snrks-

URSIAS: -SNORTS, her nostrils flaring and just keeps up her pace.-

MITUNA: -Slides up next to the pig-

MITUNA: doe5 your arm 5hoo7 la5er5

HEITOR: -NO RESPONSE. snorts piggily-

MITUNA: dude you go77a 7ell me

HEITOR: -VENTS STEAM FROM HIS BACKPACK. holds up his arm. Wiggles his fingers. NADA-

MITUNA: awwww

MITUNA: do you 7hink i could ge7 one 7ha7 5hoo75 la5er5

DAELOS: -speaks up for the first time this entire time- I thought you could already do that

HEITOR: -SNORTS AGAIN.- HEITOR: -also, lowers his arm.-

HEITOR: -STARES AT DAELOS-

DAELOS: -THIS IS WHY HE ISN'T TALKING THESE PEOPLE MAKE HIM HECKING UNCOMFORTABLE. Also he's a depressed horse.-

MITUNA: yeah bu7 how 5wee7 would i7 be 7o 5hoo7 la5er5 from your hand5

MITUNA: back me up here 7ula

LATULA: SHOOT 1T FROM YOUR D1CK MOR3 L1K3

AQUILA: i knew a guy once who could do that i'm pretty sure. it was a real rip snorter of a pahty trick let me tell ya.

MITUNA: -Looks down at his crotch a tad too long-

LATULA: lm4o.

MITUNA: im gonna do i7

LATULA: DUD3 WH4T.

MITUNA: im gonna

#gladiateCarnifex #gnarlycradz #technologicgodot #abscissionGalliard #felicitousVicissitude #pinnacledSuasion #trojanabstruse

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