ITP: inappropriate orifices

[bythehorns]

[In the one of the more livable regions of the cave this afternoon (evening? who even knows, in here), Tavros is examining a troll-sized tub of green slime that the fuk dwarves have just finished making for him. It's a deep, pearly pink, and the opening at the top of it looks like...well, let's be polite and say it looks like a Georgia O'Keeffe painting. The fuk dwarves have ideas about what holes in things should look like (nsfw).]

Wow, that's, a lot fancier, than I was expecting, with the decorative folds, and everything....

((pester Tavros about his obscene home furnishings! or pester the fuk dwarves for inappropriate boons of your own. everybody needs more decorative genitals in their lives, right?))

Comments

[pincerattack]

[oh, it's on now. because it just so happens that Karkat's real talent, besides dispensing romance advice, is to give leaderly speeches and to come up with ridiculous linguistic constructs to convey his rage! he may not be willing to stoop to a Strider-style rap battle because that is STUPID, but it just so happens there are a few forms of ancient troll battle poetry that will get his point across. IT IS ON, HUMAN WHO TAKES SURPRISING CARE TO WARPAINT HER TEETH.]

IN SOME FUCKING CAVE/PROTEIN CHUTES FLAPPING NONSTOP/GOG I NEED SOME AIR.

[it's kind of shitty poetry, but it's the right number of syllables and at least it conveys some of his anger.]

[sei_what]

Another demon child! She hadn't expected that. But how did this one turn out to be so clearly a vile little mud-farming, armpit-scratching, flea-having privy box? With stubby, contemptible horns, no less?

Her eyes go steely over her fan. A peasant, even a demon peasant, does NOT raise his voice to a gentlewoman of the fifth rank. It's time to get all earthy about this, that's the only sort of thing peasants understand.

"The ox-cart passes / the ox drops dung on the clay / dung rises to speak." And then she really cuts loose:

"Where dung sets its foot / the earth turns grey in its shame."

THERE. THAT'LL LEARN HIM.

[pincerattack]

[yeah, sorry, that's what happens when you're RAISED BY A GIANT CRAB MONSTER instead of a cute little fairy like Tavros was: you've got no manners! also when you can feel the veins throbbing in your thinkpan and it may be time to break out that pneumatic drill comparison that has worked so well on humans in the past to describe this headache. not that there's been a time in the past month or so that you HAVEN'T had a headache, so you're used to it. sort of.]

SOME ATTEMPT AT WORDS/HAMMERING THROUGH MY THINKPAN/SOMEONE STOP THE PAIN.

[sei_what]

The little grey scrublet clearly can't even manage a full tanka. Is that, perhaps, a dew of perspiration which has settled across his brow? Sei is pretty sure that it is, on account of the fact that she herself is on fire and has, as fire does, well and truly burned him.

She smirks.

"The summer kitchen / chars the maids at work inside / how one feels for them!"

"...but how fine the taste of tea / upon the year's hottest day!"

She's being, like, a really colossal jerk here, but...yeah, it feels goooood. This little creature should really try to let some of his pique out once in a while. It would do him a world of good.