milliways_bar | (no subject)

"Um," Autor says, and bites his lip. "Do keep in mind that this is the inexpert opinion of one human who has only just learned about troll romance from you and Karkat."

The disclaimer had to come into play somehow.

"But," she says, "but you did find somenyan that you have black f33lings for? And who might maybe recipurrocate?"

Did you think that pitiful show of pasty pink was his blushing before? Hahaha. His face might as well be made of neon, now.

"Um, well, nothing's been stated outright, of course, but, there is, well, some... er, I mean it's not like there's that much of, um--"

And now Autor's realizing that while romance works beautifully in theory, it's messy in practice. He's also shocked to realize that he's been practicing it at all. Well, he's told Nepeta this much; he may as well out with the rest of it.

"You can't have two people in a quadrant, can you?" he asks, placing a hand on his cheek. "That's taboo, is it not?"

And now he's cursing the fact that he can't just code himself straight into his sylladex and sleep until everyone he knows is dead.

"Not at the same time," she confirms. "Espurrcially not in one of the mating quadrants. But that's not to say you couldn't have, um, the same kind of interest in more than one purrson? If it's still just at the point of being interested?"

"I thought so," he says, nodding. "It'd be unfair to all parties. Not to mention a total bloodbath." A phrase which he never used to use before--nope. Not even going down that road right now, thank you very much.

Then he coughs, fidgeting again. "But I've only known this one for a couple of weeks, really, and the other for... a little bit. And while one is a royal pain and the other is a clapper-clawed bugbear, surely it has been too short to form any sort of a basis of an a-attraction! But, it's not like they're not each seriously hateful people, and it's not like I don't have fun teasing them, it's just, I mean..."

Autor bites his lip. "Er. How are you this evening?"

Nepeta bites her lip to suppress a fond smile. Two new blackcrushes in the space of weeks! Poor Autor; no wonder he's flustered.

"I'm fine," she says cheerfully, "and really it's purrfectly okay if there was more you wanted to say on the matter."

"It's just not fair to either of them, you know?" he says, rubbing his elbow. "It feels like cheating already. And the one is so, so lonely."

Then a grin breaks out on his flushing cheeks. "On the other hand, I came up with a truly corny and quite possibly annoying spade card, depending on the person."

Lonely. He doesn't say it mockingly, either. Almost as though he's approaching this as a weird combination of hate and pity, which ... might work pretty well for humans actually, now that she thinks of it.

She bounces a little at the mention of the spade card. "Tell me?"

He straightens, and clears his throat, glad for the distraction. "'Because I've heard you like grammar, I'd like to end this sentence with a proposition.'"

Then he drops into a smile again. "See? Awful. Have you written any lately?"

It takes her a second to get it.

Okay actually a few seconds.

And then she starts to giggle. "It would be furnnier if you made the sentence actually ungrammatical, though."

"It's true," he says, dramatically, "but I don't know if my heart could take mangling such a work of beauty." He tilts his head. "Actually, no, there are a lot of beauties my heart wouldn't mind mangling.

"Did you see Karkat's giant floating movie screen?"

[OOC: Credit where credit is due, adapted.]

"... giant floating mewvie screen?"

"Well, he manages to project this massive screen over the lake, and the first thing he plays is a romantic comedy with a 'nauseatingly charming' lead," Autor says, scoffing. "He's as abrasive as sandpaper and a hapless dreamer. I don't think he even realizes how ridiculous he is. It's a good thing he has m--er, other people--to tell him."

And then Autor realizes he's rambling. Er. How did that happen? "Right, so," he coughs. "Um. How are you?"

Didn't I ask that already?

"... Autor."

Her eyes are brightening.

"Is he the purrson you're interested in?"

The sound of his name catches him off guard, but not as much as her statement. "W-Wait, what?" he stammers, flushing from his toes to his roots.

"Karkat Vantas is a hair in my mouth," he huffs, planting a hand on his hip. "...But I can't deny that his level of stupidity isn't fun to laugh at."

He purses his lips, almost thoughtful. "Still, though. We've only met twice, and once over the chat system. Hatefriends, really. Nothing to get excited over."

Oh he's TOTALLY interested. She rocks back and forth a little, hugging herself with delight.

"Hatefuriends is still good! And if, you know, if something a t33ny bit more caliginous starts to develop out of it ..."

"Yes," he says, turning his head away to pop his nose in the air. He folds his arms across his chest defensively. "Well. Hatefriends are certainly. Well. Something."

And therein lies the problem, which I shouldn't have spilled to you in the first place!

Autor offers her a pretty terrible side-eye. Meant in good faith, of course, but still. "Why are you so damnably easy to talk to?"

"Am I?" She blinks.

Innocently.

"I've met you twice," he points out, "and you not only know my name, but I even told you"--and here he clears his throat and changes his train of thought before he keels over from all of the blood rushing to his face.

"Yes!"

Nepeta starts to giggle.

"I think," he croaks, pinching the bridge of his nose, "that you and I are going to be fabulous hatefriends if this keeps up."

"Meowbe!" The idea doesn't seem to bother her. "Or meowbe likefuriends? Or just regular furiends."

"Clearly we're something," Autor says, with a steely grin. "You're too good at extracting information out of me for us to be neutral."

Then he offers her a one-shouldered shrug. "We'll figure it out, I'm sure."

He's kind of amazed that he's interested in figuring things out to begin with. Trolls. Who knew?