[ He is a weird, bug-eyed kid that does voices — but she's not judging. He can say whatever the hell he wants really, not like it's going to hurt her feelings. At a certain point in her long ass life, she just stopped caring enough for that. But she can tell he's paying attention — and that's the important bit. ]
A Loser, huh. [ She picked up on the emphasis, even if she doesn't know the meaning of it. ] Well. Long as you don't end up a bloody smear of Loser on the pavement, I guess.
[ Her dwindling cigarette finally gets flicked away. She gives him a little look as she smothers the stub in the dirt underneath her boot. ]
Do I even want to know why you were assaulting a clown? [ Not that she's particularly fond of clowns, but. ] Being armed usually helps. As long as you know what you're doing. If you don't, it's just something for the other fucker to take from you and beat your ass with.
no subject
A Loser, huh. [ She picked up on the emphasis, even if she doesn't know the meaning of it. ] Well. Long as you don't end up a bloody smear of Loser on the pavement, I guess.
[ Her dwindling cigarette finally gets flicked away. She gives him a little look as she smothers the stub in the dirt underneath her boot. ]
Do I even want to know why you were assaulting a clown? [ Not that she's particularly fond of clowns, but. ] Being armed usually helps. As long as you know what you're doing. If you don't, it's just something for the other fucker to take from you and beat your ass with.