[Rita lets Clarke work through whatever thoughts she's decided to pursue, until--huh, that's unexpected enough to make her blink before responding.]
Nope, it's just me. [She does quickly pick up the meaning here, though. Clarke did already mention that 108 was now her old room, after all.] So there's plenty of space if you want to crash there.
( like rita would have offered if she truly minded. obviously when it came to couch surfing she would have preferred natsuno, just on best friend ranking alone. but he's got a new roommate as well, and if anyone ought to lobby for their right to sleep on his floor it'd probably be jade. and through a series of unfortunate losses and really meaningful moments, rita is currently slotted just below their mutual vampire in terms of endearment. )
I come with baggage and a proverbial price on my head. ( a little more gallows humor, but emphasized as clarke gives the swollen serena eterna branded tote on her shoulder a little shake. no stuffing falls out, but there sure is the rattle of stolen steak knives and infimary items she'd spent the day re-hoarding. )
[They both know it's a pretty unnecessary question, but Rita shakes her head anyway. It's a convenient location anyway, being right across from 109 and all should they want to talk to Natsuno--too bad Jade's now in a different room, though.
Rita hears the rattle of metal and snorts. Yeah, that sounds about right.]
Oh, you know. Enough for the end of the world, like always.
( it's a joke, but also is it? listen, certain things have not yet come to pass that will put clarke squarely at the helm of instigating this reality's upheaval, but the ship looks like shit and she's traumatized from two previous apocalypses okay? )
Rita glances around idly and scuffs a sandalled foot over the carpeted floor. She'd hate for everything to end and be left with her curiosity unsatisfied, no matter how much she keeps telling herself she probably doesn't want to know the answer-
Before she can think better of it, she pipes up again.]
Hey. Mind if I ask you something?
[Except--sorry, she's not actually giving Clarke the chance to give the okay there before barrelling right along with a very obviously apocalyptic sort of question.]
Cont--hey, it's not what you're thinking! If you're thinking anything like--look, the captain mentioned it and it's just bugging me that I don't know what it's supposed to be, okay?!
["Laying low" sorry Rita is definitely kind of shrieking now...]
( yanno one of the few benefits of having loosed all the ghosts in the tubes is clarke hasn't heart that creepy disembodied children's laugh in the arcade for a while. but it's also a downside because right now a little high pitched giggle would be fitting. or a few tears, because now she is once again forced to imagine the captain and likely skulduggery having sex. )
Would you take me at my word if I told you it really doesn't matter and you probably don't even want to know?
( there is a desperate desire to try to distract rita right now. whip out the cotton stolen from the build a bear machine and return to their pyromaniac roots from the early days of the ship — look, this will burn WAY better than pool noodles! let's go light shit up.
but also like. clarke's been here. thoroughly traumatized just by the very idea the captain and skulduggery were actually fucking, mind spinning all sorts of imagery in her own charcoal sketch style as pirate jenny talked. so at least now she doesn't have to suffer alone, but she's also lowkey bracing for rita to either scream or hit her. )
Okay, so if someone is made up of bones and a penis is entirely cartilage ( gag ) then obviously they don't have one ( gag ) and so they may need to "strap on" a replacement ( GAG GAG GAG ) in order to —
( yeah, that's where words tap out and we're resorting to lewd hand gestures. )
[Angry fluster turns to limited satisfaction as Clarke agrees, only to collapse at record speed into regret before Clarke says the word cartilage.]
EW-!
[STOP PLEASE, she's heard enough, more than she ever needed to know and can't decide if this is worse or better than anything she might've imagined--actually no it's worse, because now she's unfortunately picturing it exactly as Clarke describes and-]
Stop--stop, don't demonstrate!
[ACTIVELY SLAPPING AT CLARKE'S HANDS TO MAKE IT STOP]
( IT COULD BE MORE CURSED! actually, since she's bereft of nerf guns to bop rita in the forehead with every time she transgresses socially, a little extra trauma's just gonna have to do the trick instead — )
Skulduggery Pleasant's been screwing the Captain with a fake penis, and now we both have to live with the mental image of it.
( somewhere in the bowels of windjammer, a fresh tray of mashed potatoes is churned out. extra salty, clarke & rita's suffering flavored. )
[If Rita knew anything about the sort of chocolate sculptures Max Maximum has made in the kitchen, she'd be wishing some more cursed content on Clarke right about now: namely, walking into the kitchen when he's working on a chocodick. But she doesn't, so she can't, and instead just makes a protracted noise somewhere between a scream and a disgusted groan--probably sounding like a strangled cat all the while.]
UuuugggggghhstoooOOP-
[She's finally just going to slap a hand over Clarke's mouth. If only that could erase the mental image, but it's too late!! Thanks, Clarke! She's going to have terrible nightmares tonight!]
[Because it definitely wasn't already peak cursed before Clarke had to go into detail. Anyway, Rita gives her an aghast side-eye a moment longer before pulling her hand away, crossing her arms, and proceeding like she's in no way at fault-]
Next time you're going to bring up something gross like that, warn me so I can cover my ears.
( really honest to goodness tried to warn rita off the topic, but now they're way past that point and clarke.... can't help it. her mouth is free, she snorts a little too hard and can't quite bite back a bark of laughter.
Damn, she missed Clarke. Not that she didn't already know that, but hearing the other girl laugh a bit really drives it home all over again--for the second time in a single day. She crosses her arms and looks away, because like hell she's going to cry again when they're not even talking about anything sad!!]
I can't believe you hit me after I just fell down the stairs.
( this belated realization is somehow also hilarious, namely because while the bruises along her arms, torso and legs are really starting to ache now, it isn't like rita hit anything vital or bleeding. clarke's laughter dissolves into silent wheezing, her ribs protesting, but... yanno, she's had to expand her mind relatively quickly in this place. from accepting interdimensional kidnapping and magic and djinn and revival and blood sigils and possessions and shape shifters and vampires and werewolves and omnics — at some point the growing pains had to materialize physically, at some point her psyche had to crack a little.
all in good fun, though. in the company of a valued friend. and if they couldn't laugh about it, all that's left to do is cry. )
And come on, it's a little funny. Some day we'll both laugh about this.
[She bristles a little, flustered and caught between denial and it wasn't even really a hit, I just slapped your hands away to stop the sex miming, thanks!!/i>, but Clarke's wheeze-laughing away regardless and Rita might almost be tempted to let a grin tug at the corner of her mouth despite herself-
But considering the state of things lately, her instinctual reply instead ends up being far more of a mood-killer.]
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Nope, it's just me. [She does quickly pick up the meaning here, though. Clarke did already mention that 108 was now her old room, after all.] So there's plenty of space if you want to crash there.
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( like rita would have offered if she truly minded. obviously when it came to couch surfing she would have preferred natsuno, just on best friend ranking alone. but he's got a new roommate as well, and if anyone ought to lobby for their right to sleep on his floor it'd probably be jade. and through a series of unfortunate losses and really meaningful moments, rita is currently slotted just below their mutual vampire in terms of endearment. )
I come with baggage and a proverbial price on my head. ( a little more gallows humor, but emphasized as clarke gives the swollen serena eterna branded tote on her shoulder a little shake. no stuffing falls out, but there sure is the rattle of stolen steak knives and infimary items she'd spent the day re-hoarding. )
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Rita hears the rattle of metal and snorts. Yeah, that sounds about right.]
Just how much are you stocking up on there?
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( it's a joke, but also is it? listen, certain things have not yet come to pass that will put clarke squarely at the helm of instigating this reality's upheaval, but the ship looks like shit and she's traumatized from two previous apocalypses okay? )
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[Also not exactly a joke, because. Yeah.
Rita glances around idly and scuffs a sandalled foot over the carpeted floor. She'd hate for everything to end and be left with her curiosity unsatisfied, no matter how much she keeps telling herself she probably doesn't want to know the answer-
Before she can think better of it, she pipes up again.]
Hey. Mind if I ask you something?
[Except--sorry, she's not actually giving Clarke the chance to give the okay there before barrelling right along with a very obviously apocalyptic sort of question.]
So, like--do you know what a strap-on is?
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...
... yeah, she's not sure if she heard rita right. )
That's an interesting question, uh. Where'd you hear that word?
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You're dodging the question! Do you know or not?!
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["Laying low" sorry Rita is definitely kind of shrieking now...]
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Would you take me at my word if I told you it really doesn't matter and you probably don't even want to know?
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Geez, you think I don't already know that? It's just driving me crazy because I keep trying to picture something, and-
[It sucks her imagination sucks it's inventing way too many different horrifying possibilities-]
Just tell me, would you?!
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( there is a desperate desire to try to distract rita right now. whip out the cotton stolen from the build a bear machine and return to their pyromaniac roots from the early days of the ship — look, this will burn WAY better than pool noodles! let's go light shit up.
but also like. clarke's been here. thoroughly traumatized just by the very idea the captain and skulduggery were actually fucking, mind spinning all sorts of imagery in her own charcoal sketch style as pirate jenny talked. so at least now she doesn't have to suffer alone, but she's also lowkey bracing for rita to either scream or hit her. )
Okay, so if someone is made up of bones and a penis is entirely cartilage ( gag ) then obviously they don't have one ( gag ) and so they may need to "strap on" a replacement ( GAG GAG GAG ) in order to —
( yeah, that's where words tap out and we're resorting to lewd hand gestures. )
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EW-!
[STOP PLEASE, she's heard enough, more than she ever needed to know and can't decide if this is worse or better than anything she might've imagined--actually no it's worse, because now she's unfortunately picturing it exactly as Clarke describes and-]
Stop--stop, don't demonstrate!
[ACTIVELY SLAPPING AT CLARKE'S HANDS TO MAKE IT STOP]
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Ow, don't hit, you made me tell you!
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I didn't make you--mime it! That's gross!
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( the arcade is going become a very cursed place in about 1.5 seconds. )
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Don't say it!! That's enough, I--I get the idea, okay?!
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Skulduggery Pleasant's been screwing the Captain with a fake penis, and now we both have to live with the mental image of it.
( somewhere in the bowels of windjammer, a fresh tray of mashed potatoes is churned out. extra salty, clarke & rita's suffering flavored. )
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UuuugggggghhstoooOOP-
[She's finally just going to slap a hand over Clarke's mouth. If only that could erase the mental image, but it's too late!! Thanks, Clarke! She's going to have terrible nightmares tonight!]
Did you have to make it worse?
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muffled from behind rita's hand: )
There is no way I could have possibly made that information any worse than it already was.
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[Because it definitely wasn't already peak cursed before Clarke had to go into detail. Anyway, Rita gives her an aghast side-eye a moment longer before pulling her hand away, crossing her arms, and proceeding like she's in no way at fault-]
Next time you're going to bring up something gross like that, warn me so I can cover my ears.
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( really honest to goodness tried to warn rita off the topic, but now they're way past that point and clarke.... can't help it. her mouth is free, she snorts a little too hard and can't quite bite back a bark of laughter.
just a little giggle. a chortle, really. )
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Damn, she missed Clarke. Not that she didn't already know that, but hearing the other girl laugh a bit really drives it home all over again--for the second time in a single day. She crosses her arms and looks away, because like hell she's going to cry again when they're not even talking about anything sad!!]
Geez...it's not even that funny.
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( this belated realization is somehow also hilarious, namely because while the bruises along her arms, torso and legs are really starting to ache now, it isn't like rita hit anything vital or bleeding. clarke's laughter dissolves into silent wheezing, her ribs protesting, but... yanno, she's had to expand her mind relatively quickly in this place. from accepting interdimensional kidnapping and magic and djinn and revival and blood sigils and possessions and shape shifters and vampires and werewolves and omnics — at some point the growing pains had to materialize physically, at some point her psyche had to crack a little.
all in good fun, though. in the company of a valued friend. and if they couldn't laugh about it, all that's left to do is cry. )
And come on, it's a little funny. Some day we'll both laugh about this.
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[She bristles a little, flustered and caught between denial and it wasn't even really a hit, I just slapped your hands away to stop the sex miming, thanks!!/i>, but Clarke's wheeze-laughing away regardless and Rita might almost be tempted to let a grin tug at the corner of her mouth despite herself-
But considering the state of things lately, her instinctual reply instead ends up being far more of a mood-killer.]
Assuming there even is a "some day", you mean...
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