Katchoo and Francine's Dorm Room, St. Louis (Tuesday Fandom Time)

[thismaskiwear]

Yeah, you try living in the same not-that-big room as someone you'd had a nasty fight with not all that long ago; it wasn't all that fun, especially if you were like Katchoo and had a tendency to let these things simmer.

. . . if you were Katchoo, you also had a tendency to work these things out through painting. That explained the oil-based chaos strewn all around one side of the room (much to Clocky's indignation, but then again Clocky was always indignant in her view) and the sketchbooks and various paraphernalia scattered across her desk. Sure, painting people -- certain people, anyway -- was still a touchy subject, but she had a visual memory, and sketches, and was working from that.

With a cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth, naturally.

From the rough staccato whisk of her brushes against the canvas, it was pretty obvious that she wasn't in the best of moods, but hey -- welcome to her last couple of weeks that way.

[OOC: Open for phone calls and that girl what lives there with her. Also, I must share Terry Moore's latest toongirls-as-superheroes sketch because it amuses me.]

Comments

Aaaafter any phone calls, which means SP is our friend. (When isn't it?)

[thatsamilkshake]

That girl that lived there in that not-that-big room with her had to come back to it sometimes -- and it wasn't even like they were Not Talking. Not really. They were just Not Talking About That.

Or... as much. Or...as non-awkwardly. Or...or okay, so maybe she'd been spending a lot more time Not There, this last week or so. To, you know. Hide from the chance of uncomfortable discussions. Give her space. To paint without Francine's issues getting dealt with in the way.

But she did have to come home sometimes. This time, there was pizza. "Hey."

And awkward. Pizza and awkward.

Re: Aaaafter any phone calls, which means SP is our friend. (When isn't it?)

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Katchoo was hardly inculpable when it came to the Not Being There either; she'd tried a few times to avail herself of the studio in the arts building, but the funny thing about being there during hours where security wouldn't frown at her presence: there were other people there.

Imagine how thrilled she was about that state of affairs . . . which was less awkward than coming home was lately, anyway.

"Hey," she replied -- or grunted, more like, even that sound muffled by the paintbrush in her teeth -- and aside from a quick, furtive sideways glance kept her attention focused squarely on her canvas.

Re: Aaaafter any phone calls, which means SP is our friend. (When isn't it?)

[thatsamilkshake]

"Bacon and mushroom okay?" Because she could totally do something about it at this point if it wasn't?

The point was... it was something to say, was the point.

Re: Aaaafter any phone calls, which means SP is our friend. (When isn't it?)

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"'s fine," Katchoo answered more clearly that time.

Usually they'd make jokes about the mushrooms right now, wouldn't they? With the Fat Man voice and hijinks that would scandalize the neighbors if they weren't living in a college dorm.

A few more brushstrokes, and she set the painting aside for the moment; she was hungry, actually, and going for the pizza with incredibly paint-smeared hands.

Re: Aaaafter any phone calls, which means SP is our friend. (When isn't it?)

[thatsamilkshake]

"You're gonna end up eating paint and poisoning yourself. Here."

Napkins. Nothing could stop Francine from being a mom. Nothing. Not even Epic Awkward.

Re: Aaaafter any phone calls, which means SP is our friend. (When isn't it?)

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Katchoo wasn't looking when she reached out for the napkins, so if there was any hand contact there . . . well . . . oops?

"As much of it as I've gotten in my mouth by now, you'd think if I was gonna, I would've."

Re: Aaaafter any phone calls, which means SP is our friend. (When isn't it?)

[thatsamilkshake]

And if there was any accidentally-maybe lingering there, well, oops too.

"It is kind of amazing that your tongue isn't dyed rainbow colors by now."

Re: Aaaafter any phone calls, which means SP is our friend. (When isn't it?)

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Katchoo huffed an uneasy laugh, but didn't exactly pull her hand back. "The cigarette smoke cancels that out."

Re: Aaaafter any phone calls, which means SP is our friend. (When isn't it?)

[thatsamilkshake]

Francine let it slip free, though, in the tongue-biting --stupid, stupid-- aftermath of, "I guess if anything was going to poison you, it'd be those, not the paint."

Re: Aaaafter any phone calls, which means SP is our friend. (When isn't it?)

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Katchoo bit back the snarky retort she could have made, being all too aware of how excruciatingly awkward a week-and-change-old fight still was without any extra help.

"Francie." The nickname snuck in before she could help it. "Not now?"

Re: Aaaafter any phone calls, which means SP is our friend. (When isn't it?)

[thatsamilkshake]

Francine let her eyes fall closed, half from the tone and half from the name and an extra half from being so, so tired of this.

"Yeah, okay." Eyes open again but cast down, she reached for a slice of pizza and added a quiet, "Sorry," that was nowhere near casual enough for nagging about cigarettes, if not so loud that it could be taken to mean Sorry for everything, ever.

Re: Aaaafter any phone calls, which means SP is our friend. (When isn't it?)

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

'Everything, ever' was a hell of a lot, and Katchoo wasn't so optimistic (ever) that she'd be willing to say you could cover that in a five-letter word. (There were a lot of other things that could be covered in four-letter words, but that was beside the point.)

Oh, look. Free hands, and napkins, and what she'd said to Arthur about the less-than-admirable ways society had evolved away from public execution still on her mind; she spent a little too much mental focus on wiping the paint off as best she could before gesturing toward the pizza box again.

"Yeah," she answered, just enough of a break in her voice to hint that it wasn't the blow-you-off kind of acknowledgment, more like me too but that takes more words than I can get out of my mouth right now. Then, taking an awkward step or two toward the bed --

"You wanna eat now?"

Re: Aaaafter any phone calls, which means SP is our friend. (When isn't it?)

[thatsamilkshake]

Francine nodded, a handful of her own napkins creating a makeshift plate to carry her pizza slice to the bed because... well, because she forgot to ask for paper plates, shut up.

But then that seemed stupid, or maybe she was just way too focused on everything that seemed stupid, so she turned back to just grab the whole pizza box. If plopping that down on the bed beside her created a nice, safe No Man's Land, it wasn't really intentional.

"Are you--" But she trailed off before even finishing the thought, much less the sentence, because it had to do with whatever had got the paint on Katchoo's hands in the first place, and that just seemed like a bad road to walk.

[bitchprince]

After that whole... regrettable incident... with calling Francine and chickening out of actually talk about that-- um.

...Arthur had decided that he didn't, particularly, want to talk about that.

Girls. Emotions. Stuff.

Still, eventually, he grudgingly agreed that he might wish to lend Katina some support; at least that had the added benefit that Katchoo was more likely to shout than cry, which at least improved his odds some.

And so her phone was ringing. Warily, if there was such a thing.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

The phone was teetering precariously on the edge of the dresser; did that count as wary?

Close enough.

"Well, well, Pendragon. To what do I owe the headache today?" Katchoo's gruff voice came over the line after about three and a half rings (she'd had to find a rag to wipe her hands, and had settled for a stray sock).

Not shouting exactly, at least not yet. But even for her, there had been more cordial days.

[bitchprince]

Very briefly (okay, more than briefly) Arthur contemplated going for the Francine strategy after all and spending this entire conversation demanding facts about the weather.

"I... heard matters weren't faring too well." No. Instead, he'd opt for 'earnest but a bit wary about the whole thing'.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"Depends which ones you mean," Katchoo answered diffidently. "I walk by the right time of day, sounds like some girl down the other end of the hall is having a really great time lately."

Which was to say that she, on the other hand, wasn't. But why couldn't she be difficult about it?

[bitchprince]

Oh, grand. Though really, it was probably better than that could-head-towards-tears-at-any-time voice certain parties liked to employ. "Don't play coy, you know of whom I speak," Arthur informed her, with prim annoyance with just a dash of gratefulness. For no reason at all. Really.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Katchoo was perfectly capable of that voice too, albeit a much more gravelly, profanity-laced version of it. She just wasn't feeling mean enough at the moment to use it on Arthur.

"You talked to Francine," she said instead, no hint of gravel beyond the usual hoarseness and in fact not much hint of any expression at all.

Except for a jab of her paintbrush at the canvas, hard enough that it might just barely be heard over the line.

[bitchprince]

"Merlin did, actually."

What Arthur had done... probably did not constitute 'talking'. "He was a bit put out about it." And Arthur... had absolutely no clue what was really going on here.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"Ah." Yeah, that made more sense; Katchoo had been having a little trouble with the idea of Arthur having a conversation (in the standard sense of the word) with Francine when she was in that state. She could picture awkward shoulder-patting or some such in person, but over the phone . . . yeah.

"We got into a fight," she said bluntly; may as well get that bit out there for clarity's sake. "It was messy."

[bitchprince]

Arthur winced a little against his phone. "What about?" he asked. Though he doubted it would be anything as easy as issues over shared property or anything.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"I was painting." Katchoo's voice cracked a little, and she cleared her throat maybe a little too hard. "Her, actually. Put it this way: my vision didn't really match up to hers, and that blew up into stupid, stupid more complicated other crap."

Maybe if you hadn't been so blunt about bringing her mother into it, Chewie . . .

[bitchprince]

"Ah," Arthur said, and cleared his throat. "I... know what you're going through." It sounded physically excrutiating for him to say, but it was certainly truthful. "Without the painting, obviously."

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Because she could tell it sounded like an admission that had been forcibly extracted, possibly with a pair of heated tongs, Katchoo didn't give him any crap about it, asking instead:

"Things in Camelot not going so well, then?"