He looks her up and down, and she has the tattoos, and black hair, and... the face is... just shut up about the face, okay, there's no way. That makes no sense. She makes no sense. His face meanwhile tries valiantly to tie itself into a knot.
"What the fuck are you talking about? Unless you showed up out of Paradox Space, volunteered yourself for a fresh horn-sawing and painted yourself brown--and that doesn't look like body paint, nor does it explain your eyes--then you're not Porrim. I don't have to be Kankri to tell you that, but be glad I'm not or he'd go on even later than this party is projected to last and into the next century about it. Trigger warning: cultural appropriation! Hashtag identity theft! You don't even have the right color for her," he finishes, motioning at her blue accents.
no subject
He looks her up and down, and she has the tattoos, and black hair, and... the face is... just shut up about the face, okay, there's no way. That makes no sense. She makes no sense. His face meanwhile tries valiantly to tie itself into a knot.
"What the fuck are you talking about? Unless you showed up out of Paradox Space, volunteered yourself for a fresh horn-sawing and painted yourself brown--and that doesn't look like body paint, nor does it explain your eyes--then you're not Porrim. I don't have to be Kankri to tell you that, but be glad I'm not or he'd go on even later than this party is projected to last and into the next century about it. Trigger warning: cultural appropriation! Hashtag identity theft! You don't even have the right color for her," he finishes, motioning at her blue accents.