Strokes of Genius, Thursday

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

She'd had warning, you know. About class this morning, thanks to Francine having taken it the previous term. Don't think that made Katchoo any less cranky about it.

Prospect of scattered thunderstorms be damned, she was sprawled on the front steps outside the store with her almost ubiquitous cigarette dangling from one hand while she scratched out lines on the sketchbook page with the pencil in the other.

So maybe the sketch looked a little like Chuck Bass being chased by one of those giant missiles from class this morning.

What? You wanted her to do serious subject matter all the time?

[OOC: My flag boy says to your flag boy, "I'm gonna set your OCD on fire." And he did. It was tragic. Nevertheless the post is open. *earworms!*]

Comments

[intraspective]

Ino certainly didn't much care about the chance of rain and stuff either, which would be why she was out and about.

"Entertain me," she said, instead of hello as she approached the steps. "Since you seem to be managing to entertain yourself so well and all."

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"She says hello so well," Katchoo drawled, the tiniest hint of a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth unless you happened to blink at that precise moment. "Sorry to say I don't dance, so hope you weren't holding your breath for a big Rockettes number."

[intraspective]

"My heart is crushed," Ino confessed. "I was so hoping for a dance routine. And hello is boring. You see me, I see you, congrats no need to say hi."

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Katchoo tapped the pencil against the edge of her sketchbook. "Efficient. I approve, and screw social protocol. Booze helps with that crushed-heart thing, I hear."

[intraspective]

"But I don't want booze," Ino told her with a nod. "It's much better to just deal, I find, than try to bury it in drink."

She grinned.

"So you'll just have to deal with me being all crushed."

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"Guess I will have to deal," Katchoo told her, "since I'm outta booze in here today anyway. So, dancing's out. Whaddya want for entertainment? I think we're pretty well equipped for a rousing game of Pictionary."

[intraspective]

"And have you mock my drawing abilities?" Ino inquired archly. "I don't know, that sounds sort of one-sided..."

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Katchoo drummed on the edge of her sketchbook again and shrugged. "I hate Pictionary anyway, but it's good to know in case we ever have to defend against something with a weakness for stupid party games."

She was going to blame Arthur and his evaluation of the supplies as weapons for the fact that she even thought of that. Oh, hey.

"So," she said, "Arthur's always asking me what you can use in this place to kill things with. Been thinking maybe I should come up with a catalog. Wanna help?"

[intraspective]

"Oooh." Ino's eyes lit up. "We could do that! And it's useful too 'cause you never know and improvisation is definitely important in a running battle."

Wheeee.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"Figure if I can list stuff off, maybe he won't poke at the stuff on the shelves as much." Plus it'd help her out, too, in case someone tracked her down here and tried to come after her at work. As far as the other thing . . . oh, you just keep dreaming, Chewie. Just keep dreaming.

"Plenty of flammables, like we talked about before," Katchoo continued, waving an arm down the aisle of paints and solvents. "Aerosol cans and a lighter, fwoosh."

That particular discovery had nothing to do with Winchester-style demon hunting experience and everything to do with being a solitary teenager back in Houston with a small collection of Bic disposables and an idle fascination with fire.

[intraspective]

"Paintbrushes for stabbing people in the eyes and other weak points," Ino said, contemplating that. "Hell, any sort of liquid from here would be seriously painful to the eyes. Major bonus in a fight. Blind 'em and cause massive ow."

A beat.

"You could beat someone over the head with an easel!"

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"Use the right kind of solvent and it'll burn hell out of your skin, too. No need to go for the eyes," Katchoo added, snorting a laugh; don't think she hadn't contemplated the easel thing on multiple occasions. She headed down the pottery aisle and came back with a sharp-looking, amorphous stainless steel thing (http://www.dickblick.com/products/aftosa-ultimate-edger/) that she held up. "Lots of options in the pottery tools, too. There's rolling pins, even -- hell, you could throw the pottery clay if you wanted to. Haven't figured out anything to do with the pottery wheels, though . . ."

[intraspective]

"You're the artist," Ino admitted. "And that's pretty good to know, 'bout the solvents." Not that she'd ever think of using it as a weapon. Really.

Honest!

"Hellooo shiny weapon," she greeted the not-blade thing. "Hm. Maybe use the wheels to make a trap or something?"

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Katchoo had spent far more time than she actually cared to think about contemplating things like this, just in case she really did have to buy herself a few minutes to make a break for it out of the store. "Sure. If we got time for it, and it's not a surprise attack or whatever," she agreed. Which would be exactly why she hadn't devoted too much thought to the idea, but maybe if she prepped something ahead of time . . . hey, contingency plans were good.

She snorted lightly and held the implement out to Ino if she wanted to examine it. "Dunno much about pottery, it isn't my thing, but the 'approved' use of that thing is for shaping edges. I assume. What with it being called an edger and all. But what fun is that?"

[intraspective]

"Well," she mused, "prep work wouldn't be too hard, you know? And it'd almost be worth doing anyway 'cause of the number of invasions we get 'round here."

Ino gleefully took the weapon of death and began inspecting it.

"Weapon of death is a lot more dramatic too," she noted, "which has shock value. I mean, you go 'round telling people you've got an 'edger' and they stare at you going 'what the hell' but if you tell 'em you've got a 'weapon of death' they know exactly what it means."

A beat.

"And quite possibly flee in terror of you, but that only makes it more entertaining."

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Katchoo smirked faintly. "I love the fleeing. That part's fun. 'cept sometimes it's just as effective if you don't call it anything. Sell it with a look, let their imagination do the rest."

Don't ask how she knew that from experience. It hadn't had anything to do with weapons.

[intraspective]

Ino raised her eyebrows inquiringly.

"I could do that, but spend a fair bit of time looking pretty harmless. Fleeing in terror isn't likely to happen."

Now, let her roar at people and it definitely would, but looks...

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, see, that's it. The shock value when you suddenly look a hell of a lot less harmless than usual," Katchoo said, practically pontificating. "And when you let on like you really know ten ways to gut 'em with what you're holding. That moment when they realize how close they let you get to 'em, thinking you were safe, and then bam."

Uh. Totally idle theorizing here. Honest.

[intraspective]

"Only ten?" Ino teased, tossing the weapon of death into the air and catching it deftly. "Sounds like experience talking there."

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"Overactive imagination," Katchoo lied smoothly (for however well that would work with Ino), shrugging. "Had to pass the time in my boring-ass lit classes back in Houston somehow."

[intraspective]

"Lies," she accused cheerfully, about half-sure that it was one, but really, reactions were more fun truth or not. "But, admittedly, class can be pretty dull and death is way more fun to plot than listening to someone else go on and on and on."

Lucky her, having gone to a school that taught her how to plot. Harder to get bored then.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"I was more plotting against the idiot guys in the back of the class," Katchoo admitted, choosing not to acknowledge the accusation, cheerful as it might have been. That much was true. She'd definitely imagined up a small library's worth of horrible things to do to them. "You'd be amazed how many hypothetical things you can do with rubber bands . . . no, wait, actually, you probably wouldn't be."

[intraspective]

"I have never killed someone with a rubber band," Ino informed her, almost seriously, because now. Well--now. "But, totally, I can easily think of many ways to use one. Our teachers were crazy to want to put up with us."

You put thirty kids, all about seven years old, in a class room and teach them how to kill things. Madness.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

And as disturbing as Katchoo would find that concept, it wouldn't much surprise her, either. "Trick's in making sure you don't get a used one. And not one of the scrawny little ones, either." Now she was making this all up. Tambi would have smacked her in the head for even suggesting this as a joke, and given her a lecture about using the best tools for the job.

[intraspective]

"Right," Ino said, smiling slightly. "You should tell Arthur to get right on that. Training people on elastic bands."

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"Y'know, I should," Katchoo mused. "Just to see the look on his face, 'cause I can hear the WHAT? now."

[intraspective]

Ino laughed.

"No chance of him taking it seriously though," she sighed. "Which would've been even funnier."

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"I dunno. If we build up to it right it might work." Katchoo looked almost mischievous. Almost. "Convince him about a few other things first and throw it in there?"