shitposting rave 5: discount rejects from every genre

AT LONG LAST, I UNDERSTAND WHY PEOPLE WITH PROJECTILE SPECIBI HAVE THEM. IT IS SO YOU CAN DESTROY SHIT AT A DISTANCE WITHOUT REPERCUSSIONS. FINALLY, EVERYTHING IS CLEAR TO ME!

DO ANOTHER

 

[She hands him another glass, then takes one herself and hurls it into the air lighting it on fire midflight with her psionics. Because she's a fucking showoff]

 

Oooh, are you lighting things up, Sparks?

 

WOW! YOU'RE ALMOST AS BAD AS CAPTOR, AND THAT IS FUCKING SAYING SOMETHING. TAKES TALENT TO BE THAT OBNOXIOUS.

[he takes his and lights it with a lighter summoned out of the ether like a chump without psionics before tossing it in roughly the same place as before]

 

Yep.
[She hands her a FANCY CRYSTAL CHAMPAGNE FLUTE filled with the destructive bastardization of Bourgeoise Status Symbols as well.]

I Am Barely A Sparker Let Me Have This Much.
[More splosions~]

 

DID I SAY STOP? YOU COULD AT LEAST LIGHT MINE ON FIRE, TOO. I THINK THAT MIGHT QUALIFY AS SOME SORT OF TRICK SHOT, SO. YOU KNOW. STUNTS.

 

-She gets out a lighter and lights the wick, tossing it as hard as she can.-

 

[She grins crookedly]
Say Please, Shitfuck.

[BOOOOOOM. She laughs and ours Clover another glass from the keg of doom]

 

-Clover gives her a kiss on the cheek.-

 

[he laughs a little incredulously and flips her off again]

FUCK THAT! I'M NOT GONNA BEG FOR YOU TO LIGHT SHIT ON FIRE WHEN YOU'RE DOING IT ALREADY. I AM WELL-VERSED IN THE ART OF LIVING VICARIOUSLY WHILE SITTING ON THE SIDELINES--ONE COULD CALL ME A MASTER, EVEN. I'LL WATCH

 

You´re blowing shit up and no Wrench in sight. Something is wrong with this picture.

 

[She blushes and makes a startled but pleased little chirp.]

Aww Oh No My Pusher Is Breaking. Look At All The Little Shards On The Floor. My Dream Of Having karkat Fucking Vantas Say Please, Dashed. Destroyed. One May Even Say Lit On Fire And Exploded.
How May I Ever Regain My Fucking Ability To Feel Happy.
[She tosses him another flute that's already lit.]
Think Quick.

Call Him Then.

 

JESUS SHITGUZZLING COMBUSTIBLE CHRIST!!!!

[he fumbles with the flute and almost drops it before throwing it--it doesn't make it nearly as far as the others before exploding]

SURELY YOU WOULDN'T REGAIN IT BY LAUGHING AT MY MISFORTUNE AND USING THE RESULTING HUMOR FLUID TO GLUE YOUR PUSHER BACK TOGETHER, NO! THAT WOULDN'T BE SOMETHING I'D EXPECT AT ALL.

 

Hey Sparks, light my cup!

 

-falls into the rave and lands face first on the floor. cats always land on their feet my fucking ass-

 

Hey, @WRENCH ! Get your ass in here they´re blowing shit up!

 

-hefts herself up. she is tiny. her ears are flattening against her skull. the right one twitches. she is frowning. cat-

 

-sniff sniff- Mi?

 

HEY! WE'RE SETTING SHIT ON FIRE. IT'S NOT A TRASHCAN ASSAULT BUT I'M SURE IT'S WANTON DESTRUCTION YOU CAN APPRECIATE.

 

Wow. You're really tiny. Almost absurdly so? Like I could just pick you up in the palm of my hand. Ten of you. Engulfing you utterly. But in a nice happy fashion? Yeah.

Wanton destruction's my middle name. Or would be if it wasn't Margret. We can pretend though.