arachno-phile
You notice a particularly dumb crescent shaped horn and, sure enough it’s her. The last time you were here she showed an alarming lack of an initiative and, after a traumatizing but enlightening experience of sharing a dumpster with her you’ve come to dislike her remarkably less. But that doesn’t change the fact you’re incapable of communicating with her in an even remotely helpful manner, so you do the next best thing. It’s immature, pointless and downright embarrassing, but you’re digging up the war. At the very least it’s a way to keep the proverbial hornet’s nest buzzing like it’s supposed to.
You wait until she walks under the bridge you’re standing on and, casually dump your bottle of water right onto her head.
KARKAT: HEY ASSHOLE. I’M BACK AND, I DON’T EVER REMEMBER WHATEVER THIS WAS BEING OVER. SO KARKAT: YOUR TURN, SERKET. KARKAT: YOU’RE GOING TO NEED A LITTLE BIT MORE THAN YOUR HEART SHAPED, LAVENDER SCENTED ATROCITIES TO *BRIGHTEN* UP MY DAY THIS TIME. SO CHOP CHOP! IT’S TIME TO GET TO WORK AND FIND SOME BETTER MATERIAL.