things just happen so much don't they

[adamantlyardent]

WHO: Cecelia, a cast of tens
WHERE: All over (except Jeopardy -- frick u, Jeopardy)
WHEN: April
WHAT: ACTIVITIES
WARNINGS: teeeeeeeeeeenager


Yo hit up whyellewhy to plan shit let's party

Comments

[adamantlyardent]

[Cecelia's muffled suffering is like a few pitches too high, but like she cares? this is hell.

anyway it's an up and down run-on akin to:] Ididn'tsayanythingSOONERandnowhe'sgonnaHATEmeandit'snotevenmyFAULTIcanneverlookhimintheeyeAGAINit'sOVERFOREVERIhavetocancelonKAIRIandshe'sgonnabeDISGUSTEDwithmebecausethisisDISGUSTINGandbadandI'mgonnaDIE!

[plentystrong]

[ Holy shit, Cecelia is having a full-on meltdown in the middle of the cafe. And Catra will have to do something, because the cats are freaking out and her coworkers are glaring at her, and also Cecelia's screeching is starting to hurt her ears. So she does what she does best: yell. ]

HEY!!

[adamantlyardent]

AAH!!

[she yelps, jolting up and winding up losing her balance and plopping on her butt, magazines splaying about for cats to bat at.]

What! I! Sorry! I'm sorry! [egads, face already a mess? that's how we do it in high drama town. hastily, Cecelia scrambles to gather up the periodicals and her journal, sniffling.]

[plentystrong]

Uh, you good now?

[ So Catra says, visibly annoyed, with her hands on her hips. But then, she softens a bit. ]

Hey, those magazines are fake anyway, as I'm sure everyone knows.

[adamantlyardent]

Well, yeah but...! [sniffs. she gets up, looking miserable.] But it's just gonna make things awkward. [ugh.] As if I needed help, honestly. Gods.

[she scoots past Catra and flops into a vacant chair with a huff, scrubbing her face with the back of her glove.]

History's just--repeating itself, over and over.

[plentystrong]

[ Crap. Listen, Catra just used up her one (1) empathy point of the month, so all these feelings are too much for her to handle already. ]

Uhhh...

[adamantlyardent]

[but Catra. she's so unhappy!!! this is clearly, like, the worst thing. or something.

look, it sucks, even if it's not the end of the world! sometimes big feelings feel like that.

at least the screeching is done and all that's left is moping.]

Can you check outside? If those girls are still out there...a-across the street.

[plentystrong]

[ She supposes she can do that. Catra steps up to the window and squints outside. ]

Which ones? There's kind of a lot.

[adamantlyardent]

[uuUUGHHHHHHHHhhh.]

The...uh, one of them has, like...a pink jacket? Pink and...black leggings. Big, big hoop earrings...?

[plentystrong]

[ Squiiint. ]

Oh yeah, I see her. [ A short laugh. ] What, did she step on your toes or something?

[adamantlyardent]

[hrmghrmgh.]

Something like that, sure. [hhh.] Look, I'll...I'll be out of here once they're gone, alright? I won't even move. It'll be fine.

[she grimaces as another cat comes up and rubs on her ankle. what is she supposed to do about that. she doesn't know anything about pets.]

[plentystrong]

Ohhhh. So I shouldn't go out there and invite them in, huh? That would be tragic.

[ Yep, sorry, Nice Catra is over. We're back to teasing Catra. ]

[adamantlyardent]

[bristling; she may as well have her own tail to puff.]

Don't you dare, Catra! Not unless you want absolute chaos in your place of work!

[plentystrong]

[ Catra just giggles. ]

You just make it so easy!

[adamantlyardent]

[scowling:] Gods help you if you're ever in a similar situation, because I doubt I'll have any pity for you...!

[plentystrong]

[ Catra turns up her nose, looking very smug. ]

Ha, as if I need your pity!

[ But then, as she's haughtily looking down at Cecelia, her eyes fall upon the stack of magazines again.

There's a different magazine on top now, and there, in the corner... pictures of Catra with Adora.

Crap. She can't have that.

So, momentarily panicking, she makes a mad dash for the offending objects. ]

Gimme that!

[adamantlyardent]

Heyyy!! [rude! grabbing things like that...! she huffs, squinting and realizing...hey.]

What? Problem?

[plentystrong]

[ Yikes. Think quick! ]

No, but I thought you wanted to get rid of them!

[adamantlyardent]

Yeah, on my terms, thanks. Gimme. [she snatched it back, wincing a little at the tear of the cover. she glares at the cover, and...]

...Ahhhh, ha haaa. [smirk.] Now the shoe’s on the other foot, huh? Who’s the blonde?

[plentystrong]

[ Catra crosses her arms. Her first instinct, honestly, is to say "no one", but she knows that won't fly, so... ]

Someone from home. Nobody important.

[adamantlyardent]

Is that so?

[she squints at the pictures.] Goodness, but there’s an awful lot of familiarity in these postures and expressions.

[plentystrong]

[ Catra sneaks another glance. Oh, yeah, that's a lot of them standing with their faces very, very close. And a shot of their dance at the Swear-In that Catra wants to rage at. ]

Okay, fine! But just for the record, those magazines got it all wrong. That's my arch-nemesis you're looking at!

[adamantlyardent]

[Cecelia sniffs, sitting up straighter.]

Well, I suppose that tracks. You do seem to have a penchant for llingering near people you claim to be unable to stand. That tracks. Maybe these snoopy, obsessed stalkers are on to something; broken clocks can be right twice a day, after all.

[plentystrong]

[ Oh. Oh no. There it is again -- Cecelia's penchant for finding and hitting Catra's weak spots.

Which means she now has a very angry catgirl very close to her face. ]

What did you just say?

[adamantlyardent]

[obligatory flinch, coupled with a grimace as she leans away.] Per-personal space! Gods! [glaring elsewhere even while braced and flustered:] You sure can’t take your own dumb medicine, can’t you?!