[Evening, Meridian. Up on your second levels, there's a new, markedly deadpan voice belonging to a teen girl.]OK, Morgendorffer. Don't panic. Let's review the situation
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[Karkat stares at the new human from afar. She looks like every other human he's talked to thus far. Completely unremarkable in every meaning of the word. That doesn't mean he's not going to try to troll her, despite still reeling from all the drama from just a day or two ago. Since the John thing didn't work out, he figures he might as well sharpen his trolling skills on this disgusting waste of air. After all, if he never puts himself out there, he'll never get a kismesis... and that close call with death leaves him thinking about things like that.Hey fuckass. Yeah, you. Pathetic, confused, disgusting waste of air. It's your brand new God speaking. That's right, I'm the one who runs this place. I created this poor excuse for a city by the flick of a fucking finger. I've picked you out of a million other candidates to live here. You should feel special. Do you know why I picked you? Because this is such a horrible, run down town that it needs horrible, run down residents. Your life has been so inconsequential, in fact even
( ... )
[Daria just sort of ... stares. And her flat expression doesn't change, but she does fold her arms across her chest and lean back against a nearby wall as she waits for the ranting to conclude; after this weird kid seems to be finished yelling at her, Daria just sighs and rolls her eyes.]
Oh, brother. Even my hallucinations are jerks. I guess I shouldn't be surprised.
[No way this guy is serious. Or, even if he is, there is no way Daria is going to take him seriously.]
Um ... sorry, God, I'd really like to, but I just had this steel rod inserted in my spine and I no longer have the full range of mobility I used to enjoy before that awful runaway carriage accident. Maybe you can point me in the direction of Jesus and I can see about getting some of that well-publicized miraculous healing first.
[Oh, hey, there's a skinny alien clown kid looking like he's jonesing for something, wandering down the road towards her. He ignores what she's saying entirely, but makes a beeline for her, something a little frantic about the way he's moving.]
Hey, pink monkey girl. Hey. Have you laid your peepers on my pale brother? He's real fucking little and I think maybe he all up and fell down a motherfuckin' hole or something.
[Oh dear. Erratic movements and invasion of personal space and weird name-calling ... Daria's slowly taking a step or two backwards, eyes a little wider than normal.]
Um, no. I really have no idea what you're talking about, but no. Emphatically not.
[stills, going into an oddly awkward slump] Well, shit. I gotta find me that motherfucker! [looking around again, eyes a little wild, then fixes them on her again] Who the fuck are you, anyway?
You got me, I'm the spirit of Lichmas Present. If you're good, I put undead servants in your stocking. If you're bad, I put undead servants in your stocking. You wouldn't believe how much time I save on the 'naughty and nice' lists.
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Oh, brother. Even my hallucinations are jerks. I guess I shouldn't be surprised.
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First order of business. And by that, I just mean order, fresh from the fucking Easy Hate Oven. Bend down and lick my feet.
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Um ... sorry, God, I'd really like to, but I just had this steel rod inserted in my spine and I no longer have the full range of mobility I used to enjoy before that awful runaway carriage accident. Maybe you can point me in the direction of Jesus and I can see about getting some of that well-publicized miraculous healing first.
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Oh, no! You're not hallucinating or sleepwalking. This is a real city.
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We've all been brought here somehow.
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Hey, pink monkey girl. Hey. Have you laid your peepers on my pale brother? He's real fucking little and I think maybe he all up and fell down a motherfuckin' hole or something.
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Um, no. I really have no idea what you're talking about, but no. Emphatically not.
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I'm nobody. Just a figment of your imagination. On my way to the local figment convention. Yes.
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[Of course, he IS a skeleton in all his undead glory, who just sort of dropped from the sky to say 'hi'.]
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You're not one of those damn holidays again, are you?
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Hah, oh man, if only it were a hallucination... Welcome to Meridian. I guess.
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