shitposting rave 5: discount rejects from every genre

Nehhh I am good, c'n hit a target reliably. Use one m'boyfriend designed. Is a fuckkin badass gun. Bam, fuck yo helicopter. BAM fuck yo head.

*Snickers before squinting, sipping carefully*

Noooooo... Fukkin joke, you know. Your smart, super smart, look at your smarts fuckin wanna suck your brain's dick. SMART.

 

I think it's only cheating when you like smooch someone while they're trying to conquer the world. Disracting a dude or dudette from their evil zen zone gets them so pissed off it's hilarious.

 

Lissa glances over at Jordi and Marcus, combs through her messy hair with her claws, kisses sleeping Ford on the forehead, and wanders over to the bar. She gives Mason the 'don't be stupid' look but doesn't stop him from drinking as he's still mostly sober and god is he cute with Gwendolyn.

"You okay, Marcus?" She looks up at him, then looks up at Jordi, and frowns. "No blackmail," she says, and slowly flexes her fingers, retracting and unretracting her claws, before pouring herself a drink.

 

Your boyfriend makes guns? Might have to hit him up. Always in the market for new shit, you never know what these 3D printing maniacs will come up with next. God bless the march of technology, right?

[He pats Marcus on the thigh. Then tops him off again.]

You're so nice to me. And very, very drunk right now. Would a brain's dick be the spinal cord?

Oh, he's fucking wasted right now. It's hilarious. I'm going to use this for years. Call him up in the middle of the night and say, "Remember when you offered to suck my brain's dick? Yeah, that was great."

[He looks completely unimpressed by the claws.] Bet I could get his pants off too.

 

*Grins* Hey pretty lady, yeh'm fine~!

Mmhm, makes bombs too. Splody things, v'good at that. FUCKKIN blew up th'Bratva's houses an' made it fireworks t'boot. Sexy brain, sexy, sexy.

*Pauses, drinks*

Nuh, w'be the eyeballs-- or are those th'balls?

 

Lissa frowns. "I am almost certainly a better sniper than either of you," she says, "given that they started training me as soon as I was old enough to know which end of the gun not to point at my face. Please try not to live down to the things Wrench and others have said about you."

 

It's called having a brain tumor and its part of my tragic backstory that is super tearjerk-y i'm not sure everyone present is ready for how terribly sad I am. It's. So sad. So super sad. It's really really tragic.
Aaaaaaand the IP licensing shit is more watertight than my suit in summer which is to say have you ever wanted to know what it would be like if diving suits were exactly the other way around? It's not very fun.

 

Would that make the brain dick the nose? We have to go deeper. Please, give me the extended theory of brain genitalia, I'm living for this.

Sure, sweetheart. People talk about me? I love it. What do they say?

 

Nooo not nose, not connected. Th'dick's the cerebellum, th'powerhouse of th'cell.

 

You've just fucked up three separate parts of anatomy. I'm so proud. Here, drink this for me.

[He pours him a shot of schnapps, then steals Marcus's other glass for himself.]

 

Lissa looks up at Marcus and grins. "You think I'm pretty?"

It is really a shame he's drunk.

"Aw, poor baby, I'm sorry. You have to remember Marcus though? Come over here and Mama Cat will help you remember."

"That you're a fucking asshole," Lissa says, grinning. "I appreciate the booze, as does my nephew, but that doesn't mean I will let you take advantage of my friends, okay? Don't be that guy."

 

Hey! *disappointed that his glass was taken*

HEYY!! *Excited about shot*

Duh? fukkin' gorgeous, someone tell you yer not pretty? I'll FUCK'EM UUUUP

*Takes the shot. Go home Marcus, you're drunk*

Would totally bang you like a drum if I didn' have a complex 'bout jealousy an' girls. Fuckin' girls, how fuck... how fuck they. How.

 

It's so true, I really am. Both an asshole and that guy, because seriously, are you seeing this shit? I live for this. This is fucking hilarious.

This. This is beautiful. How do they what, sugartits? I dunno, but I bet we could find out if you whipped those emoji pajama pants off.

[He pours him another shot.] Thought you hated peppermint.

 

Oh sweetums I think we aren't meant to be. I live on the dark side you see
The side full of shitty mexican-if-you-squint takeout, big morally dubious paychecks and not remembering half the shit I do or giving a fuck about that.
[He fingerguns at her]
Plus I dunno if I'd remember him actually, he's kinda doing a genius Doctor Whiskey and Mister Schnapps impression over there.

 

W'peppermint? *Squints at Jordi*

Nuh, n'gonna do it. Fuckkkking girls, like girls b' they don' like me. Jus' like... stuff... I mean I like 'em but then m'brain dick doesn't an then I like 'em again and they do the THING an' I get sad an' fuck... Girls is hard.

*Frowns. Takes a shot. Thank god for Rave Magic keeping him safe from alcohol poisoning*

 

KISS HIM YOUR DAMN SELF, YOU FUCKING COWARD!
WAIT, FUCK, SHIT, GODDAMMIT

[karkat rubs his temples and glances over towards the bar. if only]

"OH KARKAT WHY DON'T YOU EVER FLIRT IN PUBLIC??" THIS! THIS IS WHY! I WOULD RATHER FIELD A FUCKZILLION INTRUSIVE 'JUST WONDERING IF YOU'VE GOT RELATIONSHIP PROBLEMS (:B' QUESTIONS THAN DEAL WITH HOOTING AND HOLLERING LIKE ROMANCE IS A SPECTATOR SPORT

MORE LIKE ROMANCE IS PUNCHING MYSELF REPEATEDLY IN THE BULGE, OCCASIONALLY SWITCHING IT UP TO MY FACE JUST FOR FUNSIES.

 

.... so like was that permission on smooching your boo or not just checking
[Of course that's the thing he gets hung up on, of course it is]

 

The peppermint in the... No, actually, this makes sense. You've gone and killed your tastebuds already. I'll try that one when you're sober again, might work better. Here, you can have this back.

[He pushes the glass back towards Marcus, then sips from his own.]

Girls are easy. They're just like boys, but different. Less likely to try and top, too, which is convenient. Have you tried being less inept while wasted?

 

"Sometime when you're sober we should work on that." Lissa kisses his cheek. "Complexes are fixable."

Spoiler: NSFW

She whispers in his ear. "How jealous can you be when you're both right there and you can feel each other?" Her voice is almost a purr. "It'd be fun, but you'd have to be sober."

"Wow am I actually getting rejected by you?" Lissa snorts. "I was born on the dark side. And I am not suggesting that you bang a drunk dude."

She is in fact suggesting that they keep said drunk dude from getting banged by a fucking asshole for blackmail purposes, but brain tumor, whatever.

"Not really?" Lissa rolls her eyes. "If it wasn't malicious, maybe."

"What thing? What is it girls do?"

 

Malice is a very loaded term. I prefer 'mischevious'. I mean, I can totally be malicious, but this is playing in the kiddie pool of potentially malicious shit, you know what I mean?