#unclassyclown

[damndamara-blog]

Drawing the lines.

As soon as Damara caught wind of her competitor, she knew she had to act quick. Stake out some territory. She wasn’t confident in her ability to push the competition out, considering she was pretty much a one-man operation and she had no idea how many were behind the opposition. Instead, she hoped to make a deal, some way they could both operate in the same space without getting in each other’s way. So she’d taken the liberty of reaching out. The man she got in contact with, Gamzee Makara, had agreed to meet her at a local coffee shop to have a little talk. Sure, they couldn’t speak too in-depth there, but once they met up and trusted they weren’t going to be killed, they could always go somewhere a little more private afterward.  Sitting in the back corner, she checked her phone every few minutes for the time. With any luck, she wouldn’t get stood up and this asshole would show up. Either way, she had ordered a medium black coffee, and it looked like it was coming up now. Her suspicions were confirmed when they called her name and she went to fetch the hot cup of coffee. When she turned around, taking a sip of her coffee, her gaze swept the inside of the building to check and see if she had missed her afternoon companion. Maybe he missed her sitting in the back corner all by herself? Then again, she’d mentioned in her text that she’d be sitting in the corner. 

[professorspiderbite-blog]

Nine Wraths Chili.

It was time, Finally. After weeks of tracking her parents down, a few weeks more of bartering and haggling, Asipha finally had it. A recipe that had been in her family for generations, tracing it all the way back to the ass end of the twenty first century. She cared little for the name of the dish-it was apt, sure, but sounds like something an edgy redneck cooked up-What mattered was that it was delicious. The Nine Wraths of Hell Chili was something that Asipha’s own mother had cooked for special occasions and during family gatherings which featured many hungry people. The recipe called for, of course, nine different chili sauces of intensifying degree’s of heat, Tomato chunks, and three different chili beans, ground beef, pork and chicken, as well as steak and chicken chunks and bacon. Asipha couldn’t resist a strip or two of bacon herself, a guilty pleasure to be sure, especially since Asipha sought out to lose some weight.  She told her daughters that she had company due over, thus the big dish, but neglected to tell them who exactly was coming over. She grinned as she imagined the look on Carlos Makara’s face when she sets the portions down in front of him, challenging him to try all different nine portions. The dish started with a large pot, then several more with the bottoms cleaved off, to keep all the pots level with one another, and to keep each hotter ring of chili separated from one another. As the dish was finished up, the only thing left to do was to set the table and keep the dish warm. “Mm. Aranea, Vriska, Come help me set the table. The big one.” She said, in reference to an old, and rather dusty looking long-table, made to sit, at the very most, ten people. This meant moving their small little round-table out of the dining room, a task Asipha took upon herself. 

[shrimperialduplicate]

Sorry in Advance... (Not Really)

After an epic throwdown of a birthday party, Meenah was sure as fuck that anyone who didn’t have heightened regenerative abilities and stamina like her were feeling the hurt from that party for a week afterwards. To be fair, that wasn’t a lot of time for normal organs to heal from the extreme abuse dolled out at the party, and it was even less time for someone like Meenah to fully forgive her friend and occasional fuck buddy Caliborn. She still didn’t fully forgive him despite the disgusting levels of apology gifts he’d been sending her, and needless to say his insistence was getting to patience-grating levels. Having her dorm room’s every surface cluttered with bouquets of flowers - to the point where her roomie Nepeta has been sneezing a storm for two days straight - and apology notes, the Peixes clone couldn’t help but find the space insufferable, opting to avoid her own sleeping quarters if only to be rid of memories of other people being shitty for once.

Finally ducking out of her room wearing her usual black cargo pants and coloured halter top combo, the melting snow made unpleasant squelching noises beneath Meenah’s feet as she kept her head low while trekking across campus, hands shoved deep into the pockets of her sweater as she gritted sharp teeth against the unfairly chilly wind blowing across the grounds. With her gaze low, the teen heiress didn’t even notice the person in her way until her solid body met one that was taller but not as equally sturdy as her own form, nevertheless causing them both to collide and slip on the icy pathway into a pile of limbs and swearing.

Scrambling to try and find herself after the collision, Meenah raised her head and let her hood fall off her head as her usually vibrant pink eyes darkened with anger, snarl on her lips as she barked out, “Hey, fuckin’ watch where y’-” she started, only to have the words falter in her throat as the offending person sat up and shook slush from his ponytail, eyes bleary and purple like the sky when the sun is almost set meeting her own fiery pink ones while the clone faltered for a moment, trying to process what else to say but failing greatly was she mumbled out, “Uh, hey. Didn’t ‘spect t’sea ya ‘round clampus right soon.”