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Post by VALKYRIE on Jun 24, 2016 3:51:47 GMT
 She's curious, to say the very least, but she isn't going to press the matter. She doesn't want to kill the fragile bubble of this moment, standing barefoot inside a dirty kitchen and feeling free.
"Officially, I'm off today," she says. "Unofficially, if a super villain attacks downtown Kingsport, I'll have to be there."
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life is hard and then you die
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Post by Comic on Jun 24, 2016 4:35:48 GMT
[attr="class","ttop"] I'm gonna fight 'em off COULDNT HOLD ME BACK
They're gonna rip it off
Taking their time right
behind my back And I'm
talkin' to myself at
night Because I can't
forget Back and forth
through my mind
Behind a cigarette [attr="class","oone"] [attr="class","tbbody"]a super villain, huh? marisa never considered herself very super. if she had to ascribe to a label, she stuck to metahuman; different. not any better. as such, she never was able to consider herself a super villain. she was par for the course, at best; she never did anything major. her powers weren't even that... super. she was tough as nails on the outside, and yet still human inside. without thinking about it, a sly smile creeps up over the coffee mug. "suppose i'll just have to be villainous here, to give you a good excuse." and why did you say that? she quickly shoves coffee into her mouth, her lips, the burning sensation as it fills her mouth, her throat, her soul. her blue eyes are looking to thalia, scared of a response, hoping it went unheard. MADE BY VEL OF GS + WW |
[newclass=.ttop] [/newclass] [newclass=.oone]height: 0px; overflow: hidden; transition: 0.9s; -o-transition: 0.9s; -webkit-transition: 0.9s; -moz-transition: 0.9s[/newclass] [newclass=.ttop:hover .oone]transition: 0.9s; -o-transition: 0.9s; -webkit-transition: 0.9s; -moz-transition: 0.9s; height: 400px;[/newclass] [newclass=.tbbody] background-color:#222;overflow: auto;height: 400px;width: 300px; padding: 20px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 10px; line-height: 12px; color: #b1b1b1;[/newclass] [googlefont=PT Sans Narrow] |
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Post by VALKYRIE on Jun 24, 2016 4:45:48 GMT
Marisa's smile coaxes one back out of Thalia and it deepens into a smirk when the other woman actually speaks.
"What terrible deeds are you going to get up to?" Thalia asks, stifling a giggle. "I can see the coffee is in serious danger from you."
Comic
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life is hard and then you die
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Post by Comic on Jun 24, 2016 5:36:54 GMT
[attr="class","ttop"] I'm gonna fight 'em off COULDNT HOLD ME BACK
They're gonna rip it off
Taking their time right
behind my back And I'm
talkin' to myself at
night Because I can't
forget Back and forth
through my mind
Behind a cigarette [attr="class","oone"] [attr="class","tbbody"]every once in a while, you experience art in real life. it doesnt always happen, and some people never have it happen. marisa has only had it happen once before; her first real fist fight. she remembers with definitive clarity the feel of bone breaking beneath her curled fist, of blood on her fingers as she pulled back from their face, the heartbeat in her ears, the racing sensation that made her feel alive. and yet here it was again at the giggle, and she was caught in her chest for a moment unable to let out the air trapped within. and yet with that, there was a challenge, which was something marisa could deal with. she momentarily places her mug on the counter. "yes. i'm a caffeine tyrant." she leans forward, arm extending, and plucks a chunk of poptart for her own keeping. "and now, a thief." she pockets it within her mouth, for her own keeping. MADE BY VEL OF GS + WW |
[newclass=.ttop] [/newclass] [newclass=.oone]height: 0px; overflow: hidden; transition: 0.9s; -o-transition: 0.9s; -webkit-transition: 0.9s; -moz-transition: 0.9s[/newclass] [newclass=.ttop:hover .oone]transition: 0.9s; -o-transition: 0.9s; -webkit-transition: 0.9s; -moz-transition: 0.9s; height: 400px;[/newclass] [newclass=.tbbody] background-color:#222;overflow: auto;height: 400px;width: 300px; padding: 20px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 10px; line-height: 12px; color: #b1b1b1;[/newclass] [googlefont=PT Sans Narrow] |
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Post by VALKYRIE on Jun 24, 2016 6:33:45 GMT
Thalia gasps in mock horror as Marisa steals a piece of her poptart.
"Those are some very grave crimes indeed," she says with faux gravitas. She swaggers around the counter, hands on her hips, all 5'3 of her drawn up to full height. She's careful as she does so on a level beyond awareness to keep her strength scaled to something that matches what a woman of her height and weight and in her shape could feasibly maintain. Turning off her TK field is deeply uncomfortable and nearly impossible, but she can modulate it, at least, and she's doing so now with a precise control that's born of exquisite fear.
"Do you have anything to say to defend yourself?" Thalia smiles and tosses her hair back over her shoulder. "If you bat your eyelashes I might--" She dissolves into helpless laughter. "Oh God, I can't take myself seriously. This is like the start of a bad porno."
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life is hard and then you die
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Post by Comic on Jun 25, 2016 0:24:58 GMT
[attr="class","ttop"] I'm gonna fight 'em off COULDNT HOLD ME BACK
They're gonna rip it off
Taking their time right
behind my back And I'm
talkin' to myself at
night Because I can't
forget Back and forth
through my mind
Behind a cigarette [attr="class","oone"] [attr="class","tbbody"]despite having a solid seven inches of advantage over thalia, she still feels like the other is the tallest in the room with how she is carried and how she carries herself. it is a turbulence to the atmosphere of this place; normally, this apartment is used to hiding away from the world, for wallowing, for smoking until she is incapable of caring anymore. its her dump, the personal trash can for this particular grouch, where she can finally end being a puppet and embrace that emptiness. marisa inadvertently perks up, pulling back a bit; much the way you would had anyone else approached you, false stern or not. she's apprehensive, unsure of where thalia is going to go with this or how close she's going to get, theres a bubble, she has a bubble she would prefer to keep, maybe keep, she can't tell anymore if she wants to keep her at arms length or in that length and then she is playful, her hair her hairis motion, a pink wave, and the ichor of laughter follows. marisa finds herself laughing; small, stifled chuckles, the back of her hand over mouth. "i'm, uh, deff not a pizza man or plumber." her hand comes up and sweeps stray hairs back, clearing her face of bangs for the moment. just the one moment. "but, uh, i can still play the part." marisa finds the mug, raises it like a toast. MADE BY VEL OF GS + WW |
[newclass=.ttop] [/newclass] [newclass=.oone]height: 0px; overflow: hidden; transition: 0.9s; -o-transition: 0.9s; -webkit-transition: 0.9s; -moz-transition: 0.9s[/newclass] [newclass=.ttop:hover .oone]transition: 0.9s; -o-transition: 0.9s; -webkit-transition: 0.9s; -moz-transition: 0.9s; height: 400px;[/newclass] [newclass=.tbbody] background-color:#222;overflow: auto;height: 400px;width: 300px; padding: 20px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 10px; line-height: 12px; color: #b1b1b1;[/newclass] [googlefont=PT Sans Narrow] |
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Post by VALKYRIE on Jun 25, 2016 6:10:55 GMT
vYPBAlH5 < 50 full gay
Thalia freezes where she is when Marisa pulls back, then leans against the counter, trying not to look like a terribly gay mess who is at once kinda turned on and also terribly worried about offending the other party.
She's not sure how well she succeeds. She smiles and it's 3 parts sickly to 2 parts nervous, with only a dash of excitement, but her voice is steady and low when she speaks.
"You're too pretty to be a plumber," Thalia says, tapping her finger against her lips thoughtfully.
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life is hard and then you die
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Jun 26, 2016 12:46:02 GMT
Post by Comic on Jun 26, 2016 12:46:02 GMT
[attr="class","ttop"] I'm gonna fight 'em off COULDNT HOLD ME BACK
They're gonna rip it off
Taking their time right
behind my back And I'm
talkin' to myself at
night Because I can't
forget Back and forth
through my mind
Behind a cigarette [attr="class","oone"] [attr="class","tbbody"]there is a nervous laughter to leave her lips when she is told she is too pretty. its reactionary, accidental; its traces of fear and nerves and raw. its short, and her hand comes to cover her mouth, her face red. it isn't that she's never been told she's pretty. its just that its usually under two pretenses; one, people telling her she's too pretty to be a grunt working for dangerous men. two, really drunk girls and guys at bars. its never often a sober experience, and not very repeated in the morning, so she's never felt the sensation stuck. this time, its in the dark of the morning, in her own kitchen, and a part of her feels ripped out and away and its a scary freedom and she wants the wall back now. "you're too beautiful to be telling me that, thalia." her gaze is back to the counter, now, focusing intently on the coffee. MADE BY VEL OF GS + WW |
[newclass=.ttop] [/newclass] [newclass=.oone]height: 0px; overflow: hidden; transition: 0.9s; -o-transition: 0.9s; -webkit-transition: 0.9s; -moz-transition: 0.9s[/newclass] [newclass=.ttop:hover .oone]transition: 0.9s; -o-transition: 0.9s; -webkit-transition: 0.9s; -moz-transition: 0.9s; height: 400px;[/newclass] [newclass=.tbbody] background-color:#222;overflow: auto;height: 400px;width: 300px; padding: 20px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 10px; line-height: 12px; color: #b1b1b1;[/newclass] [googlefont=PT Sans Narrow] |
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Jun 26, 2016 13:07:20 GMT
Post by VALKYRIE on Jun 26, 2016 13:07:20 GMT
"Shouldn't I be the expert, then?" she says lightly, but goes back to nibbling quietly on her poptart when Marisa doesn't meet her eyes. She's not the greatest human being, but she's sensitive to this kind of thing, and she knows how to take a hint.
"Can I have a cup of coffee?" she asks after a moment of silence.
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life is hard and then you die
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Jun 26, 2016 13:18:16 GMT
Post by Comic on Jun 26, 2016 13:18:16 GMT
[attr="class","ttop"] I'm gonna fight 'em off COULDNT HOLD ME BACK
They're gonna rip it off
Taking their time right
behind my back And I'm
talkin' to myself at
night Because I can't
forget Back and forth
through my mind
Behind a cigarette [attr="class","oone"] [attr="class","tbbody"]the moment of silence stretches out in her mind. should she have just accepted it or refused it outright? the compliment was unusual to her, unused. it wasn't that marisa didn't think she wasn't pretty, its just... not something she ever thought of, period. she considered herself in ways relating to her strength, her durability, her ability to follow through on jobs. she considered herself in anger and regret. physical appearances didn't peel into her mind often. the silence broken, and marisa looks back at her guest. how rude of her to not offer. or was it? how the hell were you supposed to treat people who slept over, bundled on a piece of furniture like one mass of limbs? "yeah, yeah. uh, do you want anything with it? creamer, sugar...?" she quietly hoped she still had unspoiled creamer in the fridge if so. she turned, back to thal, to push back up onto her tiptoes and grab another mug from the cabinet, setting it down. does she... does she let thal pour her own? does she pour it for her? her face is tight in concentration before she says fuck it. marisa pours coffee into the cup, then turns to offer it to her guest. she regrets how weak she feels in this whole mess; there is her permanent redness, her heat, and a swill of emotions and bodily sensations she can't handle all at once. she would need hours to compile, compress, figure it all out. being distracted by her, here and now, wasn't helping that. MADE BY VEL OF GS + WW |
[newclass=.ttop] [/newclass] [newclass=.oone]height: 0px; overflow: hidden; transition: 0.9s; -o-transition: 0.9s; -webkit-transition: 0.9s; -moz-transition: 0.9s[/newclass] [newclass=.ttop:hover .oone]transition: 0.9s; -o-transition: 0.9s; -webkit-transition: 0.9s; -moz-transition: 0.9s; height: 400px;[/newclass] [newclass=.tbbody] background-color:#222;overflow: auto;height: 400px;width: 300px; padding: 20px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 10px; line-height: 12px; color: #b1b1b1;[/newclass] [googlefont=PT Sans Narrow] |
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Jun 26, 2016 13:28:45 GMT
Post by VALKYRIE on Jun 26, 2016 13:28:45 GMT
"Black is fine," she says quickly, not wanting to impose. She really does drink her coffee black, anyway, unless it's truly terrible, burnt sludge. And while Marisa's apartment doesn't inspire confidence in the quality of her coffee, Thalia is pretty sure she can stomach it.
There have been some late nights at the compound with regrettable coffee decisions. Her stomach is cast-iron, for the most part, and what it can't handle she can make it handle through psionic healing. Which is probably not a healthy mentality, but fuck it.
"Sorry," she says after her first sip, exhaling softly. "I should have told you last night."
Guilt complex what guilt complex.
Comic
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life is hard and then you die
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Jun 26, 2016 15:09:26 GMT
Post by Comic on Jun 26, 2016 15:09:26 GMT
[attr="class","ttop"] I'm gonna fight 'em off COULDNT HOLD ME BACK
They're gonna rip it off
Taking their time right
behind my back And I'm
talkin' to myself at
night Because I can't
forget Back and forth
through my mind
Behind a cigarette [attr="class","oone"] [attr="class","tbbody"]lucky for thalia's taste buds, this coffee maker is freshly stolen. acquired? she didn't really take it, per say. one of the small time gang leaders she was working for got shiv'd by a vigilante, so she took his coffee maker from his office. he didn't need it anymore. fresh coffee in a clean pot was a small price to pay for losing one of her employers. she has downed half of her own cup, watching thalia nervously to see if she will actually drink. marisa herself is quiet for a moment after the apology. she puts her cup down, takes a moment forward, and gingerly, pausing halfway before continuing, goes to put one of her rough hands on thalia's shoulder. "don't be." she lets go, folding her arms across her chest, hands on elbows. that was a pretty big leap for her as is; reaching out to comfort someone was a murky territory. "i'd repeat it all again, even if i knew." MADE BY VEL OF GS + WW |
[newclass=.ttop] [/newclass] [newclass=.oone]height: 0px; overflow: hidden; transition: 0.9s; -o-transition: 0.9s; -webkit-transition: 0.9s; -moz-transition: 0.9s[/newclass] [newclass=.ttop:hover .oone]transition: 0.9s; -o-transition: 0.9s; -webkit-transition: 0.9s; -moz-transition: 0.9s; height: 400px;[/newclass] [newclass=.tbbody] background-color:#222;overflow: auto;height: 400px;width: 300px; padding: 20px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 10px; line-height: 12px; color: #b1b1b1;[/newclass] [googlefont=PT Sans Narrow] |
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Post by VALKYRIE on Jul 1, 2016 0:54:56 GMT
That's not the answer she was expecting. Part of her wants rage, betrayal, disgust; to define herself with a knife against the weight of someone else's hurt. That's what she craves, what she knows she deserves. She can feel the argument swell inside of her with malignant grace.
She feels it fade into nothing as well, the hunger inside of her like thrashing birds vanishing. Clipped wings.
Thalia leans back against the counter and settles into her coffee proper, savoring the taste.
"I'm glad," she says, because she can't say the words me too.
Outside the apartment, late morning spirals into afternoon like a fat, lazy carp circling its own tail. There are no omens.
/thread end
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