vanillajello | Philosoraptor A1, Sunday Afternoon

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Philosoraptor A1, Sunday Afternoon

Pleased that the island had finally switched to a warmer location, Kate had started her day with a quick trek off the island. ... Only to decide she wasn't sure she really liked their new surroundings. It was a little creepy, to be honest. Kate liked places that had life and light and copious amounts of noise, and this place... Well, it was really lacking in all of those.

But at least it was warm. That meant that once she came back from her short trip, she could be wearing a little less than what she'd been getting used to, as she chilled out in her alcove with some crummy gossip mag.

Creepy village aside, it was a pretty mellow Sunday. Too bad that wouldn't last.

[ooc: Expecting one afternoon ruiner!]

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Topher was maybe looking slightly psychotic when he peeked his head into Kate's alcove. Plus there was the black eye, so that just added to the crazy appearance.

"Hellooooooooooo!" he sang. Obnoxiously.

RUN, KATE.

Looking up from her magazine, Kate raised both her eyebrows at his appearance in her doorway, or curtainway, or whatever it should have been called.

"Hi...?"

The inquisitive tone seemed to imply an unspoken 'what do you want?' Or possibly, 'why do you look like a crazy person?'

His mind was spinning with all the possible things he could use as a tool for bringing this up. Damnit, he should've brought a cake! Except then she might sit on it and that would be -- ick.

"So, I was on Youtube," he said, flopping down on her bed without permission. "I saw some videos. What I kinda wanna know is -- why'd you pick vanilla frosting?

Only one eyebrow stayed up, now. Partly because what the actual fuck, he was on her bed. "... What are you talking about, Topher?" She honestly couldn't figure it out, not immediately. As far as she was concerned, there was only one video of her online. That was all. So, she was confused.

That didn't mean she couldn't feel her shoulders starting to tense up reflexively.

Topher rolled his eyes. "Oh, don't give me the whole she-just-looks-a-lot-like-me thing." Even though he had a doppelganger here in Fandom and probably shouldn't scoff at the concept. "Come on. The thing with the cake. Why vanilla?"

... Ohh, oh no. Oh no no no no. This wasn't supposed to happen, and yet this was happening, and oh, Kate felt like throwing up.

Her eyes narrowed as her posture got stiffer, more tense. "How do you know about that?"

"I told you! Youtube!" It was looking like Kate wasn't going to share the rationale behind her frosting decision. That was unfortunate. Topher had had a whole plan to ask why she hadn't chosen strawberry.

...Topher liked strawberry.

Sorry, Topher, Kate really didn't have any interest in your inane questions right now. She looked shocked and angry all at once.

"That's on Youtube?"

Yeah, questions like that were what she was more concerned with. Funny, that.

How odd. And here he was thinking the flavor was the most important part.

"Yup," he supplied helpfully. "You're probably pretty surprised about that, huh?"

Which was his way of alluding to her surprise in the video, yup. He could be a little more subtle if he was, you know, a box of bricks.

Oh, Topher. Did he really want to be drawing her ire to himself when she was clearly already having a fairly irrational reaction to all of it?

"Fuck you," she said, glaring at him, as she tried to wrap her mind around how her past wasn't staying in the past like it was supposed to.

Oh, Kate. Didn't his big honking black eye make it obvious how little he knew about when the right time to back down was?

"I mean, really, I'm here because I'm concerned," he told her. And then bounced on the bed, because he could. "Cakes everywhere are in danger!"

"You need to get out of here," Kate told him, not sounding any happier or friendlier than she had for a while. "And you can't tell anyone about that video."

Someone should have told Topher about how Kate had managed to intimidate an over 100-year old vampire just by having a stress-induced rage attack at a barista.

But -- but that would spoil his fun!

"I don't wanna," Topher said, maturely. "Are you sure I can't put it on Facebook? People need to know about protecting their cakes!"

"You have no idea what you're talking about." Kate did. It was still making her stomach turn. She got off the bed and onto her feet, and gestured at the curtain. "Seriously, you need to get the fuck out."

"Okay, okay," he said, holding up his hands. Because he totally didn't want to get punched again.

"But first, just answer one thing, okay?" Before she could respond, he plowed through, "Why cake and not pie?"

Even though that was funnily enough a question Kate would've been able to answer (since it was because the skeevy guy had specifically asked for a cake), she wasn't going to. Instead, she reached to grab his shirt so she could try and pull him up from her bed.

"Shut. Up."

It sounded mightily like a final warning.

Being about as weak as a little puppy dog with just slightly more energy, Topher was easily lifted.

"Is it because pie is all gooey? I can totally get that. It just gets all over your medieval costume and makes a huge mess, and then your metal, uh, girl covering can't get dry-cleaned..."

Kate was going to be amazed and/or appalled at herself later.

But right now? She didn't think about anything at all, didn't consider the consequences or whether she was giving into his baiting too easily. She just released his shirt once he was on his feet.

Then punched him in the face.

Topher stumbled back, clapping his hands to the injured area. That was his second face-punch in a week! What was wrong with the girls at this school?

"Dude!" he spluttered, taking his hand away and looking at his fingers. "I'm bleeding!"

Only slightly. But he was a baby.

Kate's hand hurt like hell, but she wasn't saying a thing about that. On principle! Besides, she was still a little taken aback by the fact that she'd actually done that.

"Tough," was all she said.

"I was just asking a simple question!" he yelled, flailing for a bit before deciding to wipe his hand on the nearest thing he could reach. Which, it turned out, was a gossip magazine.

"What, is this some vampire alter ego again?"

"No, this is me, angry," Kate snapped and seriously, was this guy never going to learn to run away after she hurt him? "Get your nose out of my business, and your entire self out of my sight."

"Fine!"

And now he was running out the door. Them there was the sound of a slight scuffle as he tripped over his own feet, scrambled back up, and kept running.

And Kate was left to finally make a face at how her hand was stinging, and then another when she saw the blood on her poor, poor gossip magazine, which got immeditely (but gingerly) thrown in the trash.

This day had been so good just a few moments prior, and now she didn't know what to do with herself. Sigh.

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Philosoraptor A1, Sunday Afternoon

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