Log:Reunion Rumble

Reunion Rumble
OR "The One Where Merle Gets Stoned And Says Some Shit"
Participants Vorpal, Calliope, Sophia, Merle	January 22nd, 2018 Merle and Sophia reunite. Things go swimmingly. As in they go about as well as swimming in the amazon dressed in a bacon bikini.
Location Cyclone

It's cold outside. Very, very cold, and snowing. Maybe that's why before eleven A.M. Calliope has planted herself at the bar and has a line of dead soldiers in front of here with their labels peeled off and folded into some pretty awful attempts at origami. The blue-headed punk is resting her elbows on the bar. There's a half a plate of chili fries she's still picking at, along with a small stack of plates that have been cleaned on their contents. "Another.." The Tender opens their mouth and Clio waves them off. " Fuckin' Look, I ain't fuckin' drivin' no-fuckin-where. No fuckin' car, and I'll get a fuckin' uber to get me to my shithole, dontcha worry. Just keep being fuckin' comin' and maybe hit me with another order of fuckin cheesy fries, these fucking things... Fuckin' life." She winks at the tender and pushes another crumpled twenty on the bar. She's in a blue baby doll T-shirt that reads 'Fancy as Fuck' and ripped jeans that strain against her winter plumpness.

Sophia is sitting down the bar from Calliope, drinking a beer--her first--and waits for the bartender. "Those cheesy fries look good. Can I get an order of those and a cheeseburger?" She, too, sets down a crumpled $20 bill. And she stretches, waiting for her food. Looking the other Summer over, she gives her an upnod. "Good taste," she says. "In food, anyway." She looks past the bluebird of sweariness to the door, then back to her. "I'm Sophia Caruso."

Ching. The front door opens and shuts, and the bar is abruptly awash with some very particular sensations, just about the time Sophia looks away from the door. Every mortal in the room turns to look at once as the new arrival steps in, and just as quickly turns back to their own business with hushed tones and a note of strain. For the arriver's part, he strides to the bar and slings himself down beside Calliope, opposite Sophia, and bats her money back towards her before putting a slightly less grimy bill in its place. "You're not supposed to be paying for your own beers, sweetheart. Not for another two months or so, yea?"

Vorpal is tired of playing the Mortal. He is relaxed and his presence is -sprawling.-

That sound outside? It's not a motorcycle, it just has the revving groan of an engine in need of repair or euthanasia. Someone put that POS car out of its misery already. It's probably not the most uncommon sound in the world, but damn if it ain't /loud/. There's a long stretch and nobody comes inside yet, though. Too bad the place isn't covered in window leading out to show that Merle climbed out of the car to toss a cigarette and immediately light another one and that's keeping her occupied for the time it's going to take her to either puff several hits off it or freeze to death in what is clearly not a winter-level leather motorcycle jacket. So she remains outside. For the moment.

Calliope reaches over swats blindly at Vorpal, just like he's a gnat getting up in her business. She takes her twenty back though, "When the fuck did I start letting your ass call me sweetheart, Pookie?" She grins at Johnny before letting her bright blues drift back towards Sophia and she nods at the other woman. "I have fucking good taste in every-fucking-thing, except maybe my fucking company." She teases glancing back towards Vorpal before sucking down a few more droughts from her beer bottle and puts it down and starts to peel the label.

The waitress puts her fries and beers down - like she's used to this now - and heads to get Sophia the same order.

Clio does tilt her head to the sound outside and lifts a brow with a buzzed expression. "Calliope Motherfuckin' Kraus, most fuckin' folks just call me Calliope or fuckin Clio. Whatever makes your ass happiest."

Sophia shrinks away from the godling, eyes -wide-, staring at him as if seeing her doom was normal. Then she swallows, and calls to the bartender. "Please, another beer." Her voice cracks with the strain of keeping the strain -out- of it. The loudness outside also puts her hackles up, like she knows everything is wrong. Distractedly, she says, "Nice to meet you, Clio." And she stares past Vorpal at the door, heart sinking.

"-Well-, seeing as how my methods of expressing my affection for you are ever so slightly limited, I've decided to choose the most annoying options of sharing it short of -actually- giving you cause to punch me on the nose," grins Vorpal. Noting the built, tattooed brunette, he leans around Clio and makes a show of looking her over. When he speaks, though, it's immediately clear that he wasn't ogling her -form.- "That is some excellent work you have there, miss. From one canvas to another," he asks, "May I have the name of your artist? And yours, if it's all the same. I'm Pookie- apparently- but more commonly known as Johnny, or Vorpal. A pleasure."

His voice drops. "Do relax, miss. I know what I feel like, but rest assured it's actually my court-appointed job to make sure that people like me don't become problems for anyone else. Honeypie here can attest to that for me," he croons, indicating Calliope! "You're perfectly safe. Perhaps more so for having me here than not."

He's still a Wyrd-drenched, Ancient, power-radiating shadowghost with digits that can't decide if they wanna be knives or fingers. So that's only SO relieving, really.

Twiiiiiiindar engage! Oh wait, Merle and Sophia are not twins. They're not even full siblings, what with only sharing a father and not a mother. But sometimes when you're that close to someone, you can just /feel/ their presence. That might be what has Sophia reacting, but for Merle? She gets none of that. Tossing the cigarette onto the ground and blowing the smoke out even as she enters the bar, her shoulders are slumped in a slightly dejected manner and her gait is the sort that is typically used by kids after summer vacation is over, or by the working drones on Monday morning as they brace themselves for something they don't really want to do. Only instead of going to work in an office, Merle is not looking forward to yet another bar where she's going to strike out in her quest for either news about her sister or liquid happiness. Oversized sunglasses hide much of her face before she pushes they up atop her head, the nubs of the nosepieces tangling in her riot of messy hair. Once revealed, her eyes are smudged and darkened by too much eyeliner and not enough health. God, the pure human shell that she is just drips with mortality, like a black sinkhole against the Wyrd around her that she is utterly oblivious to. She pauses there inside the doorway, just soaking up the lack of freezing air for a moment.

"Well if you're looking for affection in the fucking form of violence you're always fucking welcome to come to me. Can it on the misleading fucking pet names, Johnny. Give fuckers around here the wrong fucking ideas about me. Pick something more appropriate like, Little Asskicker or maybe just, The fucking Best." She takes a drink of her beer smirking at the godling sidelong before turning her attention back towards Sophia with a little chuckle under her breath. "Personally I like fucking Pookie."

Other than a quick once over, where Vorpals gaze has been that of a studious artist Calliope's unabashed about googling. But she's distracted once more bt Vorpal's words and 'Honeypie' gets him a swift jab of her elbow before she sticks out her tongue from a backlit mouth. Pierced for the world, black and pierced and backlit blue for those with the Wyrd's eyes. But just because she's at the bar does not mean she's not immediately wary and her head turns a bit when the door opens, just to glance at the shadow that crosses it. This one too gets an elevator look before Clio goes back to her fries.

Sophia stares at Vorpal, not relaxing at all. "Artist in Maine, unfortunately," she murmurs. "And, uh, Elsewhere." She stresses the word slightly--mortals won't understand, but Vorpal should. Her eyes go back to the door. "You're not what I'm worried about. I know that engine." And then Merle appears in the doorway. "Shitfuck," she mutters lowly. "That's my sister."

"Oof." It's a little played up, that grunt at being elbowed, but it's also followed by a grin. Whatever Vorpal feels about getting knifed by harpy elbow, it ISN'T angry. "Alright, alright. I'll start calling you Babs. Short for Bad Ass Bitch. How's that?" Vorpal curls his grin tighter, flicking his eyes... well, no, it's really more of a head turn. His eyes are lost in the caul of shadows over his face. His HEAD turns to Sophia as she explains. "Ah, alas. Well, perhaps I'll take a road-" Pause as the door opens and the others look that way. It's Sophia's reaction that really clicks for him- THAT'S when he looks Merle's way. "She trouble? You need an exit, kid?" Tiniest hint of possible violence equals Vorpal is keyed up and excited.

There's no response to Sophia's words, if Merle even heard them. Which apparently she did not because she doesn't react to them at all. She doesn't even seem to notice Sophia, or anyone else, is really there. She's just hovering in the door like she's considering trying a new approach and playing nice with people. Wait. No. Merle will sleep with you, will shoot you, will let you buy her alcohol but she will probably not play nice. An exhale of a sigh lifts her shoulders and slumps them down again and she finally starts into the bar for real after that momentary hesitation at the doorway, a hand raised so the back of her thumb brushes across her nose. Each person she passes is inspected. It just happens that Sophia is hidden by Vorpal's form, though, at this angle. Calliope gets the most attention before the bartender is given an upchucked nod of her chin. "I gotta piss. You got any PBR, I'll take two and a shot of whatever's cheap and I'd like it waiting when I get back if you can." A finger is pointed toward the corner with a questioning look as if asking if that's the direction for the bathroom.

Calliope chuckles, "Shitfuck that's your sister.." She chuckles under her breath. "How fuckin' long since she's seen you?" The story about the tattos get a smirk, "Maine..eh. We're both from there.." She points between her and JOhnny before shifting her weight. Clio is actually grabbing her fries and beer and positioning herself with her back to the bar. Why? Maybe because she intends to enjoy a little schuedenfraud. She reaches over and whacks the shadow wrapped tall man, "Calm your various fucking bodyparts."

Clio flicks a wickedly long matte black nail towards the bathrooms, "Just over there. Your fuckin drinks are on me.." Or rather, on Johnny.

Sophia laughs lowly. "Not yet. But I might, thank you, was it Johnny?" She looks to Clio and simply says, "Before." Before she was Taken. As she was Taken. It's all confused. She swallows, and then takes the incentive to stand. "Gonna piss yourself right here, Merle." Clio gets a hard, angry stare. "Bitch." But then her whole attention is on her sister again. She's keyed up, ready for a fight.

Vorpal turns to Clio and frowns- though nobody buys it's actually upset. "Calliope fucking Kraus, that is -cheating.- Deal was for -your- tab. Youuuuuuurs. You're bending the rules." Which... to be blunt, he doesn't actually care, because it's not like he's shelling out actual cash he'll miss. Fucking faeries. Then there's the slap and the bodypart calming comment and he groans. "Fine, fine. Tits and bits officially calmed." He swivels too, back to the bar to watch whatever the hell this is as it happens.

Which is hella unsettling, because if Merle wasn't aware of where that obscene sense of something -powerful- was coming from, she is the minute he turns her way. Mortal or not, that shit is goddamn -palpable-, and anything short of a surprising, long awaited, tense family reunion would pale in comparison.

As it is, this is JUST FUCKING UNIQUE enough to overpower it. Or maybe he shuts it down for a bit to let this play out, the scamp.

Merle is already turning toward the bathroom direction when she feels it? No, that's... she can't be actually /feeling/ something right? But she hears it. That voice. THAT voice. She swivels around, eyes frantic for a moment as she seeks out, "Sophia." No Soap or Soapi or any other variation of her name. No endearing nickname. Just Sophia. "--the fuck? Oh fuck. Oh my fucking god. It-- you're... here. You're alive. You fucking psychopathic cuntface whore, you're actually /alive/? All this fucking time you were actually fucking alive and didn't fucking bother to let me know you skanky retard?" She stands there, doing a slight bounce in place as if she's uncertain about something before pointing a finger in Sophia's direction. Anything and everyone else is momentarily ignored. "You stay the fuck right there. I'm not even fucking kidding. I have to pee and when I get back your ass better be in that fucking seat." And though she moves with that motion of someone who has to pee terribly bad, she quicksteps to the women's bathroom without hesitation. "I MEAN IT YOU FUCKTARD. STAY."

Calliope lifts a shoulder at Sophia, "We can fuckin talk about later outside if you got a problem, Sophie. You don't gotta sweetalk me, just ask." Calliope's laugh is amused and airy. Not offended even remotely and unashamed. She remains leaned back on the bar and pops another cheese fry into her mouth chewing glancing sidelong at the lanky man next to her, grinning so hard dimples are stabbing her cheeks. Then the outline of the phone against her thigh in the skintight threadbare jeans vibrates and Clio looks down, sticking her fingers into her pocket to pull it out and sighs. "I gotta fucking take this. I know I fucking don't need to tell you to keep your fucking eyes on eveyrthing, Johnny. I want deeetails. And for fucks sake by the girl a fucking beer, she hasn't seen her sister in a long ass time."

Sophia stares at her sister. "We need to talk," she agrees. Always the succinct one. "There's been... developments you should be aware of. Maybe." She glances sidelong to Clio. "Look, I'm sorry." Phone call interrupts that. "I'm not going anywhere. "I... yeah." She slumps, defeated.

"Ohhhhh, THAT kind of "haven't seen her."" Vorpal muses, lips curling into a cheshire smirk. "C'mon. Siddown and get started on that drink, kid. She'll be back and you seem like you could use some liquid courage. You want a beer? Or something a bit prompter with the backbone?" He gestures to the bartender and pushes another twenty across the bar. "For her drink and her sister's, once she gets back. We'll all be in her booth back there." Then he's standing and moving, just -assuming- he'll have Sophia on his heels once she orders her drink as he marches to the table Merle indicated and slings himself down without a second though like he owns the damn place.

"You don't gotta tell me, no, Babs. I got this covered, take your call, I'll make sure everyone makes it to the ER after this delightful reunion. No DOAs, promise," Vorpal calls after Clio's plump, retreating winter booty.

Sophia does, indeed, follow in Vorpal's wake after ordering a shot of Everclear in a glass of Coke. Look, shit just got real, okay? She settles in next to Vorpal instead of across from him--apparently afraid to sit next to her sister.

Vorpal gives off a sense of "That's what I thought" once she orders something stronger. "So. What should I be expecting when your sister comes back? She seems pissed. Is she gutpunch pissed, curbstomp pissed, or "time to worry about fire control" pissed? Gimme an idea what we can expect here, mm?" For all this, he sounds pretty damn relaxed. Sophia shrugs. "Probably the middle option." Her pretty red-gold eyes are on the door to the ladies', watching for Merle. "I don't know what to tell her, man."

"Well. Depends. You want her in on everything? Because if you do, I can give her a primer. Without having to wrap her up in a pledge. We'll need some privacy, but she'll believe you. Trust me. And then she can decide if she wants to be part of your world, or just have you as part of hers." He shrugs. "All the same to me. If she -does- curbstomp you, I'll get you taken care of. She'll be mighty puzzled when you still have teeth next time she sees you, but." He shrugs. "Tell'er you saw a good dentist or something." Sophia nods slowly, looking worried. Summer and all, sure, with that faint mantle of being in an oven, but... she frowns. "I want her in. If you can help, and don't mind." She looks up at Vorpal then, swallowing. The waitress brings the drink over and she drains it, barely breathing to do so.

"Sure. We'll step out once she gets back, and I'll let'er see a glimpse of things. You can swear her in later, but this'll be good for now. Enough to get her in the door, so to speak." He's relaxed, idle almost. "Sophia, right? I caught that proper?"

Sophia nods. "God, you're going to make her shit herself," she mutters. "Isn't that going to make things worse?" A beat. "Yeah, I'm Sophia."

"Well, your other options are trying to convince her you're telling the truth some -other- way, or to swear her in and expose her to everything all at once. It's all up to you, kid, I'm just offering. Most folks can't tuck the curtain aside for a few moments just cuz they feel like it, you know that. Figured it might be intense, but it'd also be something less than an "all or nothing" choice. At least if we do things my way, she can always tell herself it's just the one freak out there and not a thousand thousand freaks spread across the planet or whatever." Sophia nods, sighing. "....Yeah, true." She looks at him, sidelong. "So what do you get out of the deal, anyway? Johnny, wasn't it? or Vorpal? Weird."

Vorpal blinks at Sophia. "What do -I- get? Nothing. Kid, I've got most everything I want. Which is boring as shit. You and your sister, though, that's interesting. I get to see what happens. Plus Clio's good favor, which is pretty sweet for what it's worth. I -feel- like helping, kid. Simple as that." Sophia stares at Vorpal suspiciously. But shrugs after a while. "Whatever, man." She feels the booze start to hit her system and nods. "That could be enough," she mutters to herself. "But she's still going to try to kick my ass, and I'm probably going to let her." She glances up at Vorpal. "Please stop calling me kid. I'm 33. ...mostly."

"Ah, see, that's good info. You want to get asskicked, I won't stop her, then. And I don't have to feel like a heel for letting it happen. Good. And if you insist. What do you wanna be called, hm? Sophia? Sophie? Got your own nickname?" Sophia grins crookedly. "Sophia. My sister is the only one allowed to give me a nickname, and she calls me Soap, or at least used to." She begins to chew her lower lip. "Soapy, if she's feeling charitable."

"Sophia it is," shrugs Vorpal. "So just to be sure I got this clear. She comes back, she kicks your ass, we explain what's been happening, and if she needs some convincion, I convince her. Probably need to get her to promise not to blab, too, but that's neither here nor there. What are -you- gonna do once she understands everything?" Sophia nods. And then she exhales. "Probably convince her that she needs to be Ensorcelled? I don't know."

"Sworn in," corrects Vorpal, gently. "At least while we're in public. You're fine, mostly, just something to keep in mind, yea?" He glances around to reassure himself there's nobody to overhear. "Yeah, we're good. I can't tell you want to do with your sister, but I think you should start pondering now, while you've got time. Better than trying to decide all of a sudden."

Sophia nods at Vorpal. "She won't like it." She waves to the waitress. "Can I get another, please? I'm not driving," she says to her, before turning back to Vorpal. "I dunno." She fiddles with her Freehold token, the leaf pin on her messenger bag. "I don't like it either."

"If you liked it, you'd have stayed," states Vorpal rather bluntly. "Why would you expect her to like it any more than you? She doesn't -have- to like it. Question is how she accepts you." Sophia grins crookedly. "Problem is, if my crappy memory serves, she saw it happen." Her being Taken, that is. "So... she may know more than we realize? Which is dangerous on its own."

"Eh. If she knows a little, she can be taught more. She's only dangerous if she thinks she's gonna report us to the authorities or something crazy like that," shrugs Vorpal. "We'll deal with that when it comes, it's not something you can predict. So relax, enjoy your drink, and we'll see how she reacts." Sophia nods. The waitress swings by and drops off her Coke 'n' Everclear. And she tries to sip this one more slowly. "So, uh, Johnny. What part of Maine are you and the pretty, short lady from? Clio?"

"Aleswich, specifically. You ever been out that way? We've both got ties to a Native American tribe back home." He leans back and chills, rapping his fingers on the tabletop. "Your sister has the biggest damn bladder I have -ever- heard of. Or a tremendously shy one. Not sure which." Sophia stares at Vorpal. "That's where I'm from. Merle was born in Michigan, but--I'm from Aleswich." She blinks. "I'm surprised I never saw you around."

"I didn't grow up there. That's where I settled after I had my own trip. When were you last there?" Vorpal inquires. Sophia shrugs. "Three years ago, give or take a few months." She considers. "Merle's probably getting high in there to deal with me," she mutters to Johnny, staring at the bathroom door again.

"Ah. Then... hm. That's a good question. Wonder why we never crossed paths. It's not THAT big a place. You know the circus that was there a while?" Vorpal muses idly while Sophia stares holes in the door.

Sophia nods. "Kinda, yeah. Never went, but I knew of it. Who didn't?"

Merle might have a large bladder. Or a shy one. Or she was just in there doing a couple lines of coke which might be why she's rubbing her nose when she's walking out. She pauses at the bar, staring at the now empty seats as if there's nowhere else in the bar that her sister could possibly have gone.

Vorpal whistles sharply from the very same table Merle had indicated, where he sits with Sophia and her drink. "Over here. Don't worry, nobody went anyplace." Calliope is still on the phone outside, smoking furiously trough her fourth or fith battered marb before some rather colorful vocal cues can be heard from the door followed by Calliope entering once more tucking her phone on her pocket and looking pleased with herself. Sophia looks at Merle shyly, from her seat beside Vorpal. "Hi," she says, nervously, and bolts the rest of her Everclear and Coke.

Merle's head swivels toward the whistle and she spots the pair in question. When she gets closer, her eyes have that blurriness to them still but there's this glassiness to her gaze that may look slightly familiar to those in the know. Sophia would definitely recognize it. "Oh, I thought you left again. Or weren't here in the first place. You're fucking /here/." She still just stares at Sophia before reaching in toward her.

For his part, Vorpal's relaxed in his seat, letting the sisters find their way through whatever the hell this is gonna turn out to be. As Calliope returns, he waves her over and drags out a seat for her- near to him, of course, because he's a self-serving son of a bitch.

Clio sidles over, stopping over at the bar with a flash of teeth and a wiggle of her brows which earns her a roll of eyes and a begrudged beer since Johnny is so graciously taking up an endless beer tab. (Poor Johnny).

Clio makes her way over hands out, "Shit, my fries are cold, I'm missed the fucking show. I knew I shoulda told that fucking fuck to piss off. Fuckin' bookies man." She sniffs and flops down next to Vorpal since that's her spot now. Bright, almost too bright, blue eyes dart between Sophia and Merle. She looks like a smug eagle; Majestic as Fuck.

Sophia can't help but flinch away from Merle's reach to her. She's resigned to being punched. "Just not the face, Merle." She sounds weary. "I know I deserve a good asskicking, but... Don't do it usual, kay?" Like Merle beats others up for a living. Hopefully not Sophia, because Sophia is Summer, if low level--she'll eventually snap and beat back.

Merle's hand flies out, not to punch Sophia (surprisingly!) but instead to grab at her shoulder and upper arm in an attempt to just draaaag her out of the seat. "I thought you were fucking dead you fucking bitch!" she snarls, her voice not quite in a shout but definitely with some volume behind it. And her voice, which is usually raspy and dark, is outright gravelly with something that might just be actual emotion. "I have been looking for you, you fucking whore!" Oh Clio is there Vorpal is there? Anyone else is in this bar? Well fuck all of that. Merle is entirely zeroed in on Sophia and nothing else for the moment. "I should fucking kill you."

Vorpal side-eyes Clio. "What do you think, Babs? Should I lay off the mute button, try to keep it PG-13? Or let them work it out and fix what's broke after?" He's watching this intense little proceeding with distinct interest, and keeping his voice low. It wouldn't do to disturb the events in play.

Calliope shakes her head, "Fucknaw, Vorpal, how'd you feel if someone pulled that shit 'tween us, huh? Just sit back and fucking appreciate it. Consuesse enim deos immortales, quo gravius homines ex commutatione rerum doleant, quos pro scelere eorum ulcisci velint, his secundiores interdum res et diuturniorem impunitatem concedere." She says to Vorpal and winks at him before sucking down more of her beer and just soooakking up all of Merle's yummy rage.

Sophia stares at her sister, but not with fear or anger--just sadness. "I know." She shrugs. "There are reasons, and we--Johnny here--and I will tell you, but first--get my asskicking out of the way, yeah?" She does soak up some of that rage, the glamour delicious, but most of it is just--missing her sister. Knowing that she has a lot to answer for.

Merle's hand tightens around her sister's arm and she /yanks/ at her. "Stand the fuck up," she says, voice slightly cracking on the words. "RIGHT NOW. Why would you-- where-- JUST SHUT UP." She's ranting, it's pretty obvious. "I-- fuck Soap, I want to bash your stupid face in. I really want to. But-- where the fuck have you been? I thought you were dead. DEAD. You-- and then you weren't there and... I didn't know what happened but I thought..." Her voice drops lower. "I thought I killed you. You know that, right? But I... I knew it wasn't you. Why would you leave me like that? Why... I thought we were family." She squeezes her hand tight, then lets go and pulls it back. "Guess I was fucking wrong."

Vorpal seems about prepared to do as Clio says, but Merle dives into some heavy material, and there's no birb on Earth that can keep him quiet for that last line. "Oy. Merle." Did she share her name? Nope, he caught it off Sophia just now. "You get to be pissed. You get to beat her ass if you like. What you -don't- get to do is tell her she ain't family. Not before you hear what happened. Not before you start to understand what the shit's happened. Because "my sister is alive" is all the good news you're gonna get today. So you want to work out that anger before we talk? Kosher by my scan. But you save that "we ain't family shit" for after the fucking exposition. You got me?"

"Wompwomp, I hate it when the drugs turn." She sighs sa bit and raps the table right about the time that Vorpal speaks up. She looks back to Merle her brows lifting a bit, clearly in agreement.

It's too late. Johnny, bless him, has decided to save her honor, but Sophia's already crying. Curling into herself at Merle's 'guess I was wrong' she stands, and moves to head... somewhere. Anywhere. Without her coat, without her wallet, even. Just anywhere but here. Blinded by tears, because that's a low blow.

"SHUT UP," Merle snaps at Vorpal, turning toward him for a moment and letting Sophia slip past in the process. She jerks after her, just missing her. "No. /No/. You are not fucking leaving and you--" she points to Vorpal because Clio is off the hook for the briefest of moments for her commentary on the situation, "/You/ are not part of this. This is between me and my sister. SOAP STOP. Just fucking stop or I swear to fucking god I will end you right here and now if you leave. Do you /know/ what I have been through for three fucking years looking for you? Three years. And you think you can just walk away?"

Sophia turns back to her sister and something snaps inside, the weak Summer mantle coming to the fore--heat radiating off her in a wave of dry summer dust. "No, YOU stop, bitch." She blinks her rage tears away and steps in on her sister, menacingly. "You don't know SHIT. You were here. You had a CAR. You had a BED. You had your precious drugs, didn't you?" She cuts herself off and points to the door. "Outside, before I make more of an ass of myself. Because you're about to get schooled and I'm not going to lay a damn hand on you."

Calliope rubs her face, "Oh god, there is NO way this could go bad. Nope. Not at fucking all." She coughs and then says very loudly, "Hey, Bitches, this aint Jersy Fucking Shore. You wanna take this shit outside and maybe think about what you're about to fucking say /in public/.."

Of course Sophia isn't going to lay a damn hand on Merle. Because Merle is a badass! "I was-- I just /got/ here. And of course I have a fucking car. You were there when I bought it. And-- you shut the hell up. You don't know jack shit about me and how I've lived my life." Even if it's evident. So what if her leather jacket hides the marks on her arms. So what if her eyes are glazed and manic. So what if she walked in and immediately ordered a pile of booze that has gone untouched because there's one thing in the world more important to her than drowning her blood in alcohol right now. "And you shut the fuck up, too," she makes sure to add for Calliope's sake, making sure to give her the finger, that she then also extends to include Vorpal, before she reaches for her sister's arm to drag her outside if she wants to go outside so badly.