Answering the daily "What the fuck was that?" following whichever maelstrom in whichever job with "Me, you idiot" was decidedly not what I meant to do.
'Cause usually we tell them it's a train? Even though neither the café or the bar have a subway under them--which just goes to show how stupid humans really are--and, you know, I'm pretty sure the girls in work have figured out it has something to do with me. Especially since Chloe's mother is way superstitious and my shifts come with a whole lot of spilled cocktails and everyone notices coffee doing the same funky spiralling-out-of-container thing the cocktails do. Because it burns like a bitch.
I need to stop talking. It is sort of hilarious though.
Dear pissy blonde mute,
I retract my last post.
For any one who missed my disturbingly accurate impression of a moron with an explosive collar attached, stay the fuck away from all exits.
Unless you're feeling suicidal. In which case, I recommend just running into the blast. Preferably before you realise just how fucking stupid you're being.
... Nostalgia, thy name is "Charybdis' bathroom".
[Charybdis tone is one of someone who has had enough of this bullshit and is out to prove something. She's a little out of breath, having sprinted down the stairs to the best of her ability in order to avoid vigilantes and psychos. Her voice echoes in the manner that signals she's in the lobby.]
This is fucking ridiculous, seriously. Who was it who said we couldn't get out? I mean, come on...
[The sound of traffic is getting louder, until it's obvious she's in the doorway.]
Alright, so the collars are pretty fucking, well, fucked up, but that's not even the point. How do guys know if he's not just fucking with you psychologically? Y'know, keeping you all in here, going mad and killing each other off when the whole time the door was open.
[A hesitant pause, then mumbled slightly;]
So there's the chance he isn't, but if he isn't then, hell, at least you know how far I got.
[A deep breath. Her tone gives away the fact she's lost her nerve.]
One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi, fou--[There is an explosion of static and the signal ends.]
Uncle? Dearest, darling
, motherfucking Uncle? I know you’re here—the rat downstairs told on you.
If this is your doing, either change me back to Charybdis #1 or settle for Charybdis #2, because this? This is just perverse.
And what is with the fucking kid?
[[OOC: Sorry, Phaethon, she is talking about you <33 ]]
Because I figured it was high time I had one, this is my HOW'S MY DRIVING? post.
Any complaints, questions, suggestions, etc. about the way I play Charybdis go here!
Seriously, though. Concrit is my best friend (even when it's negative~), so tell me.