lost daughter

[orphead-blog]

> An unwitting finality.

[orphead-blog]

There’s a flash of electricity between the two of them, as Vriska gets close to her, and instinctively, Rose extends a hand to Vriska’s leg, ostensibly because of sympathy or concern, given the fact that she seems to be ready to unload something.  She’s no Seer, but she can tell there’s something pretty heavy going on in Vriska’s mind.

“Let’s get the sure out of the way, then; conjecture and hypothesising about events that might not occur can take a back seat to whatever immediacies occur thereafter.”

[theoriginalnerdska-blog]

"I love when you use the big words, Rose. Makes my lady parts quiver." It's said half-jokingly, an attempt to lighten the mood a little more and also keep Vriska's mind off the fact that yes hello that is in fact a hand on her leg, how nice. How distracting. What a reminder that her face is not on Rose's when it really should be. She snorts, trying to jump over the hurdle of awkwardness her little quip threw down. "Anyway, I don't know how to put it so I guess I'll just yolo the hell out of it and go for it."

Hand.

Knee.

Hand on knee.

Knee under hand.

Very distracting.

"I sort of really like you. A lot. Like, a lot, a lot. And I didn't know how to tell you or when, but I did know I didn't want to do it any other way than in person. So. Now you know."

There is absolutely no way she is flushed right now, shut the fuck up and get the hell out.

[orphead-blog]

> An unwitting finality.

[orphead-blog]

“A lot on your mind, huh?  Tell me, Vriska,” Rose says, taking her place on the more comfortable chair, and motions for the other girl to sit beside her.

Suddenly the atmosphere seems to have changed substantially; a casual catching-up between friends seems to have become some manner of venue of airing out personal concerns.  Vriska’s face doesn’t suggest anything of a particularly lighthearted manner, and given her history you’re a little concerned that it might be an item of bad news rearing its head.

“It must be something rather serious if you didn’t want to talk about it over text or over the phone.”

[theoriginalnerdska-blog]

She takes a seat next to Rose, close enough that their thighs are touching, and it takes everything in her power not to let the excitement show on her face. Mostly because there is something marginally less exciting on her mind as well, but also because she doesn't want to get her hopes up on the off chance that this is all unrequited. "It's just dumb shit, really. Do you want the sure or the probable first?"

Choosing between good or bad will always yield a first choice of 'bad,' or at least almost always. That's not what Vriska wants right now, not what she needs, and probably not what Rose wants to hear.

So she keeps it simple, keeps it relatively light all things considered.

[orphead-blog]

> An unwitting finality.

[orphead-blog]

“Hello, Vriska,” Rose utters, a little shocked to see Vriska greet her in such a chipper fashion, almost as if she were expecting her, some manner of foresight foreign to her.  Finally, Vriska rights herself up, and—oh no she’s hot.

Suddenly all of the emotions Rose has compartmentalised and bottled away rise to the surface, again.  She struggles to stuff them back in, standing a little slack-jawed for a few moments before righting herself intellectually. “Nothing much.  I just thought I’d visit while I was in the area paying bills and keeping this apartment in sound financial order.  What have you been up to?  You haven’t texted often, and I admit it would be nice to hear from you more often.”

[theoriginalnerdska-blog]

So she did notice. "Oh, you know, busy with stuff. Working, lazing about, dying on rocks. The usual." Vriska stands, smiles sheepishly, rubs the back of her neck while staring at a rather interesting spot on the floor. "Sorry I haven't texted or anything, that's totally my bad. I've just had a lot on my mind." Say it. Just say it, tell her, she's right there you idiot, just blurt it out. "Plus I sort of wanted to talk to you face-to-face about something."

Eh. Close enough. Not exactly what she wanted to spit out but a definite path toward it, barring any unforeseen tongue stumbles between now and whenever then happens to be.

[orphead-blog]

> An unwitting finality.

Rose has a long weekend, and she thinks on the fact that she hasn’t been able to see Vriska much. While her crush on the girl has mostly subsided—the reality of their separation means that Rose can’t muster much opportunity to go down to New York—there’s still a small spark of her that wishes for just a little more.

But that’s not why she’s coming down, this time! Friendship notwithstanding (and while Rose would like to catch up with Vriska, at the very least), there are errands and necessities to be taken care of. A quick transportalisation—following the tedious customs declaration—brings Rose to New York, and she pays a quick visit to her bank, where she draws up a few transfers to keep the account paying for the Lalonde apartment utilities afloat. Once that’s complete, she returns to the penthouse, knocking briefly before unlocking the door herself.

[theoriginalnerdska-blog]

Rose's feelings have subsided, but Vriska's have all but intensified. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, after all, though even she can admit she has godawful timing when it comes to telling people how much she cares about them. It's shitty of her to want to send her a text or something, seeing as this is something probably better received in person, but her nerves are calmed a bit when there is a knock at the door followed by a familiar face.

"Hey!" Vriska is hanging upside-down off the couch, her usual thinking position. Hair in a messy ponytail, sweats, an old baggy t-shirt. Nothing says 'I sense impending shitstorms' like lazy Saturday afternoon clothes. She waves at Rose before wiggling around to maneuver herself upright, crossing her legs and trying to put on a smile that doesn't seem like it's hiding something. "What's up?"

[theoriginalnerdska-blog]

> Rose: Be an excellent host.

[orphead-blog]

Rose is wilting in the sunroom when she arrives.  The time spent in hiding has made her starved for company that isn’t Dave, and as much as she loves him, even she tires of him when corralled into a relatively small space with him for more than a week.

Regardless, today’s the day when she finally gets at least a little bit of change injected into her life in the form of one Vriska Serket.  Since Rose knows that she’s going to be holed up in here until further notice anyway, she figures she can help out a friend in need who’s moving halfway across the country in the first place while providing herself someone else to talk to.  The Lalonde apartment goes uninhabited most of the year, so she figures it’s no trouble to set Vriska up in here for the near future, in any case.  With everything organized as far as those plans, all she has to do is wait for Vriska to present herself.

She’s not prepared for what she sees when she does.

Rose knows what Vriska looks like.  Just a few months before, she’d seen Vriska in this very same city, dressed to the nines as Marquise Mindfang.  But this new Vriska has…changed, to some degree, in that span of time, and it’s all Rose can do to keep her eyes fixated on only one of these new features at a time.

Vriska Serket is fucking hot.

“Er…yes, hello, hi.  Vriska!  I’m glad you’ve arrived, er.  Are these all your things or is there anything else I can help you with?” Rose leads with her eyes, trying not to stare at the body that is turning her blooming little crush on Vriska into full-on bonertown and romantic intoxication. “The guest room is over here.  Well, I suppose they’re all guest rooms, of sorts, but this one isn’t currently in use, so there you have it.” Rose opens the sliding door to reveal a gorgeous floor-to-ceiling windowed room, the king bed dominating most of the floorspace, a small staircase leading to the loft, where the bathroom is tucked away, suspended by an intricate series of cables and tubes.

“I hope it’s to your taste.”

[theoriginalnerdska-blog]

When she sees the room, she can't help dropping her bags and gaping. "To my tastes?" she asks, still open-mouthed and staring. "I have been living in a shithole for almost a year now and compared to that this is fucking heaven." Vriska has never known the feeling of joy so great one could kiss someone, but right now she's honestly considering it. A chance meeting at a convention and suddenly here she is, in a brand new living space with someone to talk to and friends.

Yeah, she could definitely kiss Rose right about now.

But she settles for a hug instead. A tight one, and Rose makes a rather odd noise that slips past Vriska in the hubbub. The place really is beautiful, and nothing like anything she's ever had before. Even her hive back on Alternia wasn't this grand, and this is just a penthouse apartment. Not even a whole house and it's more beautiful and elegant and holy fucking shit Rose's family must be loaded. Vriska holds the hug for a minute or so, until Rose at least gives up enough to put her arms loosely around her back.

Because hugs.

"So!" Vriska says, pulling back and picking up her bags before lugging them over to the bed and dumping them on the comforter. "How long can I stay?"

[theoriginalnerdska-blog]

> Vriska: Move the sinner in.

Address memorized and spare key tucked away safely in her bra, Vriska stands at the curb outside the airport and signals for a taxi. It takes a lot less time to get one than it did the last time she was in New York, which is odd considering her general appearance, but she isn't going to question it. With her bags in the trunk and the address given to the cabbie, she's off towards Rose's apartment. Her phone buzzes once in her pocket and she pulls it out to find an email from the shipping company, telling her that her crate of shit from her apartment will be there later in the week.

Yes, good. Very good. Everything is going according to plan so far.

She had grown much closer to Rose after the convention, and even more so after figuring out she is her timeline's iteration of Rose. Vriska still can't remember much, but what she can tells her that her session wasn't like any others.

But now is not the time to dwell on that.

Now is the time to move into a new place and start over in life.

Rose lives in the penthouse of an apartment building, and it's sort of awkward lugging around two suitcases in an elevator. She gets a few strange looks from other residents of the building but she doesn't even care; she is too busy playing with her phone to bother with the judgmental stares of others. It doesn't take long to reach the floor she needs, and by then she's the only one left on the elevator. Cue dragging two suitcases down the hallway until she reaches the right door, then it's a matter of getting the key unstuck from her boob, and finally.

Finally.

She's in.

[orphead-blog]

> Rose: contact Vriska.

[orphead-blog]

You get the message quickly, and as soon as you see the answer you’re puzzled, but that confusion soon gives way to worry.  She’s not typing like herself, and that means something must be seriously wrong.

> Rose Lalonde < Marquise Spinneret Mindfang What's wrong? What's going on? Is there something I can do? 

[theoriginalnerdska-blog]

Your vision's going in and out and you aren't sure if you can stay conscious for much longer, but you need need need help and Rose is maybe the only one that will help you. Hilarious turn of events, there, you barely fucking know her. Or at least you think you do. She says you're from the same corner of the multiverse but you still can't remember much of anything. She's a friend, though, and that's what counts.

> Nerdska < Rosie Posie im pasging out atggain need ambiulanc e helopi odnt wanwna di3e my fatul my farult myfault 

[orphead-blog]

> Rose: contact Vriska.

You’d exchanged numbers with her after meeting her at the con and finding out that she was from your timeline, and sent her a few messages in the aftermath to see how she was doing.  It’s a slow night, so you figure there’s no harm in contacting her again.

> Rose Lalonde < Marquise Spinneret Mindfang Hey, Vriska.  What are you up to this evening? 

[theoriginalnerdska-blog]

You hear the Final Fantasy victory tune and that's how you know Rose is texting you. The phone is an agonizing slide across the floor from your, and it's hard to keep a grip on it with the slippery-sticky blood on your hands but somehow you manage to type up a reply without even reading the message.

> Nerdska < Rosie Posie help me 

[orphead-blog]

> Rose: Refuse to acknowledge the absurd kitten.

If only you could.  This cosplayer is somewhat unfortunately dressed, but you force yourself to resist the urge to be a callous asshole and accede to a single photograph.  Nyog’tha have mercy on you.

—

New York City is famous for many things, but most don’t think of it as the comic con capital of the world.  Which it is.  The fact of the vastness of New York’s flagship convention, the perhaps tackily named Intergalactic Comic Con, means that you can easily hide within the crowd of thousands upon thousands, indulging in your guilty pleasure without anyone knowing any better.

As much as you’re loath to admit it, the years have bred as much of an insufferable hipster out of you than they usually do out of Dave Strider.  Maybe it’s one of those things that’s just genetic, you tell yourself with the remnants of an exasperated sigh whipping at the back of your throat.  The consequence of this is that your more closely-guarded nerdiness must wait for the outlet of this legendary convention, where you can throw yourself into the anonymity it provides you and engross yourself in the culture, if only for a weekend.  Not even Dave knows you’re making this trip, so your secret is airtight.

You think so, at least.  Under the guise of visiting Karkat for a weekend (which you planned to do regardless), you pried yourself away for the weekend of the convention, and now you’re here, preparing for the whirlwind of activity surely to come.  After obtaining your pass and registering for some of the events, you lay out your costumes.

Your showcase is Saturday: a beautiful handmade rendition of Lightning from Final Fantasy XIII.  So when the day comes, you put it on with painstaking care, your typical style completely overlaid by this costume, and strike out into the enormous convention center, searching for others who share your interests.  You briefly consider talking to the Spades Slick in the corner, mindful of the webcomic that John had introduced you to, and something of a minor enthusiast, but are accosted instead by the absurd kitten cosplayer.

Well, this isn’t a great start to the day.

[theoriginalnerdska-blog]

There's hardly a reason for you to leave the hellhole known as Lincoln, Nebraska, but like fuck if NYCC isn't one of the few viable ways to get you to hop into your little car and take a nice drive halfway across the country. Your inner geek is crying out with joy as you survey the convention floor, cosplayers young and old alike dotting the landscape.

Well.

Perhaps drowning is a better word.

It's not as though you yourself aren't one; quite the contrary. You're an avid fan of cosplaying and you strive to be nothing less than absolute quality when you don your 'plays. You went without yesterday, but today is Saturday: the Big Day. You've got your 88888888% authentic, badass Mindfang cosplay ready to go. Sure, nobody knows who she is, but you do, and you're proud to have the great Marquise Spinneret Mindfang as your ancestor. It fits much better than the last time you wore it, and it occurs to you that you must have finally grown into it. That puts a smile on your face as you sashay throughout the convention, head held high and confident as ever.

This is your weekend and you aren't going to let anything bother you while you're out having fun.

Somewhere in your peripheral vision, you swear you see someone with a set of horns, but you brush it off as pure imagination. You're probably the only one on the entire goddamn planet. Maybe your brain is just imagining that you're lonely or something, not that you are. For just a moment your mind supplies you with memories of a game you never played, and huh.

Strange.

No matter! You have geeking to get to.