Robin stands statue-still for a moment, slack-jawed with bewilderment as her gaze flickers from Mr. DNA to his identical compatriots. Well, nearly identical. The one who’s offering his hand is clearly the leader, and there’s some minute differences in the cadences of their voices, but at a glance you could be forgiven for thinking they’re twins- or whatever the nomenclature is when there’s five of them. Twintuplets?
Both of Robin’s hands remain at her sides, letting Mr. DNA’s right hover before her.
“You cannot be in here right now,” she tells them, regaining her composure all at once. “My roommate’s going to be home in like twenty minutes and if she comes home and finds you here she’s going to lose her goddamn mind, and if that happens then I’ll be lucky if all I lose are my Netflix privileges.”
She takes a step back, stabbing a finger insistently at the bathroom door.
“Get out, get dressed. And that doesn’t just mean out of the bath, it means out of the apartment. I don’t care what order you do it in, just do it quick.”
The brothers look amongst themselves in shock. How casual a response. A careful eschewing similar to that of the attitude after one-night-stands. Does she think she slept with all five of them?
“Disgusting!”
“Yeah, what’s wrong with you?”
“That’s INSECT.”
“It’s INCEST, dipshit.”
“Selfcest. Have you ever read a fanfiction before, Tommy?”
“Nope.”
While the brothers discuss Onceler in the tub, refusing to budge from their bath which is beginning to smell sickeningly sweet and the air tinged with a flavor similar to sour candy, the handsomest one, Gunkid, emerges from the bath and puts a hand on Robin’s shoulder.
“No one can see us but you.”
Mr. DNA adds, squeezing his little brother’s face in admiration, “Lucky, you’re so lucky.”
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