Kitty: *stumbling around with a colourful yet hideously garish tie wrapped around her head, and half a seagull feather up her ass* Oh god no! Not back to this shit!
Wesker: *his eyes glaze over, as he sways, knees buckling. He slurs;* Huh?
Nick: *twiching, as he sticks his finger in his ear, wriggling it around until scotch poured out*
Kitty: *stiffens, her eyes become wide and fixated on the booze. Sniffs like an enraged wilderbeast*
Wesker: *chuckles at Nick* Oi, look! He's a wittle teapot short and stout!
Nick: *staticky giggle, as he hooks an arm up, resting his knuckles on his hip* Here is my handle! And here is--
Kitty: *dives over and begins lapping up the precious whiskey juice. Pauses, glancing up to interrupt the good detective - whilst getting a glimpse of the hardware between his legs* My butt!
All Three: *burst into laughter*
Wesker: *pointing at the growing puddle of alcohol, as every inebriated gesture from the short-circuiting synth caused more to leak out. Drowning Kitty in her favourite liquor. Has to clamp a hand across his mouth to contain some of his sleepless hysteria*
Kitty: *coughing and spitting some of the whiskey up in the the air like the world's most inefficient bio-fountain*
~sinister figure approaches from the shadows, slamming an empty shot glass onto the Sporking Desk like a judge with a gavil~
All Three: *snapped to attention*
Kitty: *narrows her eyes as she pulls the feather out her butt, sobering instantly as she straightens her tie-dana. She approaches the broard gentleman* Took you long enough, Jessie.
Jessie: You realise that was never this vessel's name. It is Andrew.
Kitty: *hisses* Don't do that... You know how she gets around you...
Nick: Who?
Wesker: Her meatsuit. Some British wiccan whore called--
Andrew: *appears very suddenly in front of Wesker with a knife at his dick* Dare you speak her name, tainted one.
Kitty: *purrs, shakes it off as she flings her tie at the Angel* As delightful as this little reunion is, Jessie...I believe me and my hombres were in the middle of something.
Andrew: *intense brown eyes are fixed on Wesker, as he withdraws from him. The seam down his toned muscular back ceases glowing; the feathers of his wings begin to relax* You were procrastinating.
Kitty: *fiddles with her claws* Yes.
Andrew: I know. Am I to understand that you have recently recruited an Imp?
Kitty: Technically, no. But I could see the resemblance.
Andrew: *unflinching stoic stare*
Kitty: *swallows and squirms* Stop it. You know what that does to m-uh... Her.
Andrew: *continues to stare*
Nick: *scratches his head and glances over at Wesker, questioningly* Any clue what's going on with those two?
Wesker: *squints as he attempts to probe his Mind Meld Bond with Kitty - even in his highly inebriated state, he cringes* It's... Complicated.
Nick: O-oh...
Andrew: *slowly advancing towards Kitty, palm outstretched*
Kitty: *making weird high-pitched growly sounds*
YOU ARE READING
Topside: Realm of the Onion
Humor"'Consumed by sadness and the fallout of a now retreating fear.' That ought to be tagline for what it's like sporking this shit." ~KittyHP [A/N true to my word.] Sporking: Stones to Abbigale. A book so bad it misspells it's title character's name. A...
