(Untitled)

[slghtlylessfake]

Characters: Tavros Nitram and YOU
Location: Somewhere between the shopping district and the Creeping Crypts.
Rating: G probably??? unless Vriska shows up. Or Eridan. Or Dave.
Time: Oct. 15th, early evening.
Description: Tavros goes shopping! Actually, it's even more boring than that, he's heading home post-shopping.

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[visioneightfold]

Vriska made her way down the hill, her hands shoved into her pockets, the wrappings over her back stretched to their limit by her bitter slouch. To say she was in a sour mood would have been an understatement--her left arm and back were disinfected and bandaged now, but they still hurt; and more importantly, both her dignity and her ego were in bitter lows.

Or rather, her ego was fine--it was her reputation that was hurt.

Not badly--it was entirely Karkat's fault things had gone awry, his stupid fucking heroics that had fucked everything up, but it still pissed her off, and she hadn't yet devised an appropriate retribution; she was working on that, scraping for an appropriate revenge when she spotted the tell-tale horns and ugly dorky cripple-machine down the road.

Her luck couldn't get any worse this week

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Tavros would have spotted her easily, if not for the fact his focus was mainly on the bag in his lap and making sure it stayed in place while simultaneously keeping his balance forward enough to avoid any unwanted accidents. So he was a little taken aback when he finally noticed her, only feet away from him. He took a hard grip of the wheels, stopping right there. It wasn't so much that he was startled at suddenly seeing her there, but more that he was startled at suddenly seeing her there wrapped up as if she'd been in a fight or something. It brought back memories that he really didn't want to think about, especially not with her right there. He lowered his head, a little, jerkily, unsure of where to look... or what to do, really

[visioneightfold]

Vriska curled her lip at his address, the ends stretching out into a sort of very unsettling smile of disgust as she made her way over to him.

The closer she got, the more pedatory the smile became.

"Hi, Tavros." She leaned over him, peering over his brown bag of food to study his stupid face--and, somewhat less obviously, take a look inside. "What's this, groceries?" She relieved him of them, snatching them from his weak hands to rifle through unnecessarily--she could see what was inside just fine, but she reached in anyway, pulling out a boxy little metal tin full of some sort of moist protein aggregate.

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That certainly wasn't a good sign. It could never be a good sign when Vriska smiled like that. Tavros remained as still as possible, though he flinched a little when she grabbed his groceries. He couldn't very well grab it back though, unless he wanted to go rolling back down the hill. Not that he would have done that anyway.

"Um, yeah. I was just, heading home, so, uhh..."

He wanted to ask about her bandages, but at the same time he felt that was probably an even worse idea than saying hi in the first place.

"So, I think, I'll be going, if that's okay with you."

Of course, he couldn't very well leave with her holding his groceries like that. And also standing in his way.

Ugh, sorry. I tried to tag Tuesday, but...

[visioneightfold]

"What?" Vriska looked faintly surprised for a second, although it was pretty much affectation. She cut him off, one foot planted in front of the wheel of his chair, an expression of deep offence and anger on her face. "But I haven't seen you since we got here! Not even once. What sort of treatment is that for the girl who saved your life, Tavros? Hmmm?" There were, of course, other things to say about his behaviour, but she kept rolling. Just looking at his face made her sick.

"Besides," she dumped--more like threw--the bag full of groceries into his lap with little concern for the contents. She was still holding the can of Spam in her unbandaged hand as she leaned down, using her free hand to brace her weight against his chair. Her fanged grin hovered very close to his face.

"We aren't done here."

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Tavros winced as the groceries smacked into him. "Um, ow." This wasn't going well, but then, if you took into account that this was Vriska, it was going about as expected. He cleared his throat a little, meekly.

"Uh, what is it that, we aren't done with, here?"

[visioneightfold]

"Well." It wasn't a seque. More like a punctuation--or a very ominous first statement, depending on how you looked at it. Vriska had folded her arms over her chest, her foot still wedged firmly in front of his wheel. She glanced off, as though pensive, then returned her eight-pupilled gaze to his timid features.

"I've been thinking. A lot. And it pisses me off that you don't know any of the great and wonderful things I've done for you! Or all of the generous extra second and third and fourth chances I've given you, and how you fucked up Every. Single. One. Of them." Venom crept into her voice. "It's pretty disgusting." She eyed him maliciously, then took a breath, as though bracing herself for a great effort. "But it's not your fault." She drummed her fingers on her arm. "This time."

"So I've decided to give you another chance. This is the last one. I'm going to gtive you a test. And if you pass... well, I suppose I'll overlook this. For now. If you fail..." An unflattering and decidedly false grin spread across her face. "Well,

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He just stared as she went on, though he broke eye contact now and then. She was right, sort of, at least in some of the things she said. That didn't mean he was looking forward to wherever she was going with this.

"Thanks, but, uhh, your tests, usually involve bodily harm or, um, things that are more or less impossible to, um, accomplish, and I really need to get these groceries home, there are, some frozen things, and they might go bad if I don't get them, frozen soon, so, if it's okay with you, I'd rather not do any tests, that is, the last test, right now."

Okay, so it wasn't his most convincing argument ever, but maybe he'd get lucky....?

[visioneightfold]

Vriska blew off his concerns almost immediately. Okay, actually immediately. "Oh, don't worry, this'll be quick." She reached out, plucking the groceries from his lap again. "I'll hold onto these." She dumped them on the ground--none too gently, but with enough finesse to keep them from spilling over and rolling down the street. There wasn't even a shattering of glass. There was an audible crack, though. She didn't seem to notice it.

"Now. All you need to do..." She moved her foot out from under his wheel...

"Is stop." Then she brought up her leg, raising one one red shoe so that it was parallel with his chest, and kicked, her foot slamming into Tavros' perfect target of a symbol.

Hard.

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Tavros began to respond, but his 'uhh' was mushed into an 'oomph' as Vriska's foot rammed into his chest. His hands slipped off of the wheels, and with the added momentum from her kick, the distance between them grew as he was sent quickly rolling downhill

[visioneightfold]

Vriska watched as he gained momentum, rolling backward at breakneck speed. If this went right, it would be a good test of competence, and correspondingly a great boost to his confidence! What better way to learn than by doing? And what better way to teach confidence by proving he could do it, taking control of an out-of-control situation--literally--by his own hands?

When he flipped the chair, falling to the ground as it slammed down on top of him, she broke into laughter, raucous and jeering from her higher vantage.

"Good job!" She called, slightly breathless from hilarity, but not so much so that she couldn't give him a short, semi-mocking round of applause. "Congratulations, Toreadork! You did it!"

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He tried to move a little, only to find that his left arm had landed badly and his wrist felt weird and kind of painful, oops. But Vriska was still around, so he should probably try and get out of there. He pulled himself along a little, then tried to reach back to pull his wheelchair off of his back. He couldn't quite manage it.

"Uhh, darn it..."

He pulled himself along a little more. All in all, the whole production probably resembled a snail trying to remove its shell.

[visioneightfold]

Vriska was still laughing as she walked down the hill, closing the distance between her and Tavros at a reasonable pace, her arms full of his bagged groceries. She dropped them--rather more mindfully this time--on the street a few feet away before coming to stand almost on top of him, her bright red shoes inches from his face. The laughing had tapered off in favour of a pensive look

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Tavros went still when he caught sight of those red shoes, and flinched when she yanked the four wheel device off of him. He almost wanted her to put it back. Now there was just empty space between them.

He let out a small squeak when she grabbed him. He didn't mean to, it just came out. He was only shaking a little bit when she plopped him down into his device, and he gripped at the arms as if expecting her to send him the rest of the way down the hill. Which he kind of did.

He didn't say anything this time, not even an uhh or an umm. The pain in his wrist had slowly started to intensify after the initial shock of the injury, and he was trying not to show it. But it was a good sign that she'd put him back in his chair, right? Maybe she would leave him alone, now...