Room 505, Very Very Early Wednesday Morning (Later Than 325. More Stairs to Climb.)

[thatsamilkshake]

"So you think I should call home and ask Mom for tips on getting out bloodstains?" Francine asked when they finally made it back to their room in an attempt at .... anything that wasn't falling flat on her face the second she managed to get the door open.

That would hurt, since her face currently sported a large bruise and a split lip.

[OOC: For the Wee Yappy BFF. And SP, oh God yes.]

Comments

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"And tell her you got them how, exactly?" Katchoo would be in favor of neither of them falling over, thanks; she wasn't in any hurry to find out if there was a magical equivalent of "careful or you'll bust your stitches," if she had to try and catch Francine. "I think that shirt was done for anyway, unless there's a market for bullet-riddled chic."

[thatsamilkshake]

"Freak eggbeater accident while making a cake?" Francine suggested, dumping everything she was currently hoding onto that wasn't Katchoo onto the nearest flat surface and shutting the door. Her own blouse was just as ruined, but Katchoo's was harder to look at - the blood on Francine's clothes was -- mostly -- not hers.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Katchoo was coming up with a reply when --

BWEEEEEEEP-DOOOOOT!

Clocky, as indignant as a not-actually-sentient electronic gadget could get, wheeled up to them, its LCD display blinking ASS A.M. as it chirped furiously.

". . . how about freak encounter with a pissed-off alarm?"

[thatsamilkshake]

"Considering how many you've destroyed, you're lucky this one's only worried about you and not trying to take revenge for his whole species," Francine said, reaching down to pat it on the snooze button.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"Everything Clocky learned about attitude it got from me," Katchoo declared. "Not my fault it never breaks when I hit it."

[thatsamilkshake]

"Maybe we should send Clocky to Fight Club," Francine said as she turned to Katchoo's closet to reach for...anything that wasn't covered in its owner's blood. "He can take out his anger management issues on somebody's digital watch."

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"Or on Tiny Creepy Kid's toes," Katchoo suggested. Mean, Katchoo. "Yeah, that's something I think I'll be skipping again this week. Like work tomorrow."

[thatsamilkshake]

"You need to rest." Francine turned around with a clean tank and shorts, the closest thing she'd ever seen Katchoo wear to pajamas. "...And shower. You've got blood in your hair." So did she. Shh.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Because pajamas were for other people. "So do you." Katchoo reached up to thread her fingers through Francine's hair, and oh, was there supposed to be shh-ing? Oops. "You need sleep too. Pretty sure blood isn't one of those aromatherapy things."

Well, unless you were Bambi, maybe. Gyah.

[thatsamilkshake]

"For va--" Yeeeah, she wasn't going there. "Shower, yeah." She started to go for her own things, and towels, then stopped to look back at Katchoo. "How do you feel? Are you still okay?"

It wasn't the thousandth time she'd asked that on the way back here. Really.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Katchoo's hand kept drifting back to her side, like she still couldn't quite believe it was intact and had to keep checking. "I'm alive." Yep, still couldn't quite believe it, judging from that tone of voice. "And you're still here." See above.

"I'm okay."

[thatsamilkshake]

"I'm not going anywhere," Francine said, coming back to her for a moment.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Katchoo frowned slightly, bringing a finger up and almost but not quite touching the split in Francine's lip.

"Even after whatever Darcy said to you?"

[thatsamilkshake]

"Darcy can go fuck herself." There was a distinct lack of of keysmashy euphemism in the air.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

And cue Katchoo gaping at her. "Francine, language!"

. . . that was kind of hot.

[thatsamilkshake]

"English. Why, did you want me to say it in Spanish?" Hard to grow up in the Houston school system and not know how to say that. "She's crazy."

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"Should I ask what exactly she said to you?" Probably not this soon after trauma, no.

[thatsamilkshake]

And yet. "That you...worked for her. That you--" She paused, both tripping over the words and hating them. "You and her."

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Katchoo slumped back against the wall with one brief nod, not looking up at Francine. She didn't say a word; she didn't think she needed to.

[thatsamilkshake]

"I wish Merlin had thrown her harder."

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Now Katchoo huffed a brief laugh. "Yeah, me too. It's still better than she deserves."

[thatsamilkshake]

"She had that flower on her ankle. She said it meant you were hers. That you owed her." Seriously. If Merlin could have transferred his powers to Francine right about then? There'd be ashes. "Like just because she didn't hit you she was any better than what you left Houston to get away from."

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"We all had the flower. All of Darcy's . . . people did." It was not escaping Katchoo that Francine's anger was directed at Darcy. "Hitting would've been a lot less cruel, Francie."

It was simpler by a long shot.

[thatsamilkshake]

"I know that." She knew that because the hitting was the less cruel part in Houston too, but she didn't feel she needed to say it. "You're not hers, Chewie. You're not her people, you're not her anything."

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"The normal world's rules of possession don't matter much to her," Katchoo said dryly. "And now you know why I flipped out about your scar."