My roommate is like a living tumblr post. Literally everything I say is followed up with some pretentious, sanctimonious lecture. I fucking hate it.
Me: There’s two women who live across the hallway and they’re sisters. One of them has a daughter, but I don’t know which one is the aunt and which one is the mom.
Roommate: I mean, they might be in a relationship. It’s really narrow minded of you to just assume they’re sisters.
Me: …I’m not homophobic, I’ve just actually spoken to them and they’ve told me they’re sisters.
Roommate: I’m going to move out onto the balcony to study. I think I would do better with a change of scenery.
Me: *not really paying attention, trying to make my dinner* Yeah, I think everyone studies better with a change of scenery every now and then.
Roommate: Well, actually… *launches into a fucking speech about how the world is built up on many different types of learners and how there is no one universal way of studying that benefits all people equally and how I should be more receptive to that fact and not say such dismissive comments that excludes and alienates different types of learners*
So I’m getting ready this morning and I leave the bathroom for a moment to grab my mascara which I forgot. I literally step out of the bathroom into my bedroom right next to it to grab the mascara on the dresser right next to the door. Somehow, in that amount of time, my roommate has turned out the bathroom light.
Me: I’m still using the bathroom, I just needed to grab this. *indicates the mascara tube in my hand*
Roommate: Oh, I figured, but I just think we should be doing our part to save the earth so you should really turn the lights off when you’re not using the room.
Me: See, I’m not interested in all in saving the earth. Once I put my mascara on, I plan on dumping some oil in the ocean and setting some forests on fire. Leaving the lights on for 10 seconds is just my first step.
Roommate: *shocked, concerned, upset*
Me: *putting my mascara on while the Kill Bill sirens play in my mind*
Me: *opening a box of stuff I ordered from Modcloth*
Roommate: Oh, you like Modcloth?
Me: *internally* What the fuck do you think? I’m opening this for my health?
Me: *externally, swallowing down my hate* Yeah, their stuff is cute. A little pricey, but the sales are pretty good. You?
Roommate: Oh, I used to. But once they were bought out by Walmart I just thought it was unconscionable to shop there anymore. *gives judgey rat-face*
Me: *internally screaming for a century as my head spins 180 degrees*
Roommate: *busting into my room* Do you know what to do in case of a nuclear attack?
Me: Uh. Stay in a concrete basement if possible, otherwise find a room with no windows and stay there for a few hours? I think you have like 5 minutes after a nuclear attack to find shelter?
Roommate: I think you really need to research this because North Korea or Russia could attack at any moment.
Me: Possibly? I mean, WWIII is a def possibility at this point, but I don’t think Michigan is going to be the first target.
Roommate: You don’t know that.
Me: True. But I would guess they’d first go for a major city like New York or DC, or somewhere along the west coast. Maybe even one of 45′s properties. Or maybe a major food source or something that could do even more lasting damage.
Roommate: We have the largest stadium in the country. They could target that.
Me: I doubt they’d go for a college football game. A professional game, maybe. But not college. And we aren’t the largest stadium, that’s in Texas.
Roommate: Well, Kim Jong Un is genuinely crazy so we don’t actually know if he has any rhyme or reason for how he’ll attack.
Me: Maybe so, but he’s got advisors who would, well, advise him about the best plan of attack. And even if he does pick somewhere at random, the chances of it being right here are slim to none.
Roommate: You need to be prepared.
Me: And when there is a more serious threat, I will be. But for now, I have a lot of shit to deal with and I can’t spend all my time just sitting and listening to the news thinking to myself, “Still no nuclear attack, still no nuclear attack, still no nuclear attack” ad nauseam. I have other shit to do.
Roommate: …
Me: …
Roommate: I just feel like you’re not taking this very seriously.
Your name is KARKAT VANTAS and you thought the hardest part of being a THRESHECUTIONER was over.
You’ve recently graduated training in the THRESHECUTIONERS’ ACADEMY on CASH-4612, and finally gotten back into contact with your friends from back on Alternia. While you expected things to be INTENSELY CHALLENGING, as befitting the status of a threshecutioner, you didn’t expect the SHEER BULLFUCKERY that would be involved on the job.
It seems like the higher ups are PURPOSELY TARGETING YOU, which they probably are, being that you are no longer HIDING YOUR BLOOD COLOR. They’ve been pulling out all the stops to send you on the crappiest, most isolated missions possible, and you know this for a fact, because this is the FIFTH TIME you’ve been sent to hunt someone down WITHOUT BACKUP.
What is a threshecutioner without a flaysquad? A walking target, that’s what.
You can’t remember the name of this planet, but it’s smoggier than Alternia and twice as bright in the day. Trolls are a rarity here, one not in cavalreaper gear even more so. You have a “contact” to meet (read: dispose of) in about… half an hour ago. They’re late, and the back of your neck prickles with the thought that it’s a setup.
Sometimes you think that’s horseshittery too, because you’re not on Alternia anymore. Then you square up, set your horns, and push, because you’re still ready to prove everyone wrong. You are Karkat Fucking Vantas, and you didn’t get this far to be grubsauce like everyone says.
… But it can’t hurt to check your mail while you wait.
