thecapitol | [Closed] District 9: Meet the Prawns

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[Closed] District 9: Meet the Prawns

Who| Those in District 9 suites, whether they should be there, or not
What| Likely, inter-district arguments, and bad caricatures
Where| District 9 Suites
When| Post arena
Warnings/Notes| Language and likely that's all.

Parker's been redecorating. Considering she can't climb buildings, or steal things ~~(well, a few things from the bitch with the bubbles's room have gone missing)~~ Parker's got one avenue left, art. Usually, her drawings are realistic, without passion. This time, she's gone through many, many different versions trying to make her subjects look as ridiculous as possible.

The bitch with the bubbles has too many matchy-matchy things. ~~(Well, not so much anymore.)~~ The sponsor who is not as intelligent as the seagulls from that movie about finding a fish, cares about appearances too.

It took 37 different pieces of paper, and 3 pencils, sharpened down to nubs, to make them look this horrible. The final pieces are on display, tacked to a focal wall in the suite.

The artist is nearby.

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Harley wants to set up a hideout in Parker-ville.

She rolled backwards and sprang to her feet once more.

"I haven't been thrown off a roof in awhile, I think it was probably that time a midget dressed as my boyfriend." She paused "ex-boyfriend."

Parker-ville is a place involving a lot of money, and a lot of insanity.

Parker's rather impressed with someone who moves like she does. It's rare.

"Freefall? I love freefall."

Parker's willingly jumped from buildings many, many times.

Sounds like large portions of Harley's life, both gaining and losing massive amounts of money and insanity depending on the year.

"Yeah it was for a minute or two, but then my best gal pal Ivy caught me. And she Kitty and I came back up to show that runt who was the boss." She grinned wickedly.

"But yeah, there's almost nothing like feeling your stomach doing barrel rolls while ya fall."

At the rate these girls are going they're half likely to end themselves on accident.

If Parker lost money, people suffered.

"People get so picky if I try out new equipment. Complain it might be dangerous. Wimps."

Parker's never so much as broken a bone from a freefall, and has no intention of giving people the satisfaction here.

"Have you always been this crazy?" Harley purred affectionately "or disks have to earn it?" She had met so many great girls already in the games she was starting to wonder if she'd only be killing boys for awhile.

"Pfffft, always," and she knows it. She prefers crazy to broken. One makes people step back. The other make people fuss in ways she finds very uncomfortable.

"My team loves telling me. Parker, there's something wrong with you. Parker, don't jump off that. DAMMIT, PARKER!" She uses two distinct voices. The first and last are a gruff, gravelly tone.

"You?"

"Nah." Harley tucked her hands behind her head and rocked on the balls of her feet. "I mean, some people say we're all crazy deep down, So maybe. But I didn't really embrace my nutty side till after college. I fell in love, you know how it is." She sighed blissfully and looked like she was deep in memory on the verge of swooning.

"No. Don't know," the suddenness of her denial, the deer-in-headlights look, says something different. Parker's not good without talking about feelings.

"Hardison."

"Oh ho ho?" Harley's eyes gleamed with curiosity. "Like the song goes, "Tell me more tell me more." She was always so excited to hear about other peoples love lives. Perhaps as a distraction from her own.

"Haridison's my friend." Some people talk about these things like it's normal. Parker talks about her relationship with Hardison like she's being tortured.

"Likes me as I am."

This would make perfect sense to anyone who knew her: "He's like Pretzels."

"He sounds wonderful." She clasped her hands together and gave an excitable hop. "Crunchy pretzels or soft pretzels? How did you meet? Do you like Pretzels too?"

"I like pretzels." Talking about normal things, like guys, is extremely difficult for Parker. It's almost impossible for her to do so. That she's said this much would get squeals of glee from Sophie.

"I like him." Those two being the same thing.

"People are like pretzels, all twisty and different, but like them anyway."

"Some of us more twisty then others." Harley laughed twisting her ponytails around one another above her head before letting them flop back down. She gave a spin around Parker over to the kitchen to get some snacks.

"Well I gotta say I like your logic." She declared pouring herself a green sparkly drink. "Is he salty like a pretzel? Warm and soft inside but crunchy on the outside? Or is he like those crunchy little pretzels you get in bars?"

"Some people are locks. Some people are pretzels."

Parker chews her lips, and thinks. She doesn't want to give people the wrong idea of Hardison. He's not Eliot. He's her friend, as she says. Different type of friend, Hardison is.

"Like the ones at carnivals. Look like a pretzel, and warm, but is some weird flavour pretzels normally aren't." Parker exhales, pleased with that description.

While Parker had been talking Harley had twisted herself into a complicated contortion till she her self was doing a pretty good pretzel impression.

"Oh I LOVE stuff like that. Have you ever had a dessert pretzel? Apple Cinnamon and cream frosting for dipping."

Observing Harley's current position, Parker's going to take a second to imitate it. So few understand the importance of flexibility, even if said flexibility means looking like a pretzel.

She grins. "Yeah. They're the best, but with chocolate."

Parker on chocolate is a dangerous thing.

"Mmmm~" Harley moaned at the thought, "Bring it on. I could eat my weight in chocolate."

She began to rock back and forth maintaining the pose feeling the muscles stretching and warming up.

"We should have a feast before our next arena. Really live it up hard."

"Me too."

Hell hath no fury, well, hyperness, like a Parker on chocolate. It the most dangerous Parker there is.

Parker does something different, and changes her pose to the mirror image.

"If you know where to get it. I don't want it given to me."

"What?!" Harley looked baffled and was so shocked she unwound herself with a flop.

"Why wouldn't you want something you love?" It flew in the face of everything Harley lived for.

"Don't want it given to me. Not by them."

Parker would love chocolate, if she was at a chocolate festival, or she obtained it her own way.

Being given it by those in the capital is an insult.

"Oh...well...yeah I suppose pride comes into it somewhere." She began rewinding herself into a different pose.

"So what if I gave you chocolate? Does that still count?" because the more chocolate the better.

Parker shakes her head vigorously, enough so it sends her blond hair whipping from side to side, like a terrible song.

"Nope, wouldn't count at all. Do you have chocolate?" Now her hopes are up.

"Naw." Harley sighed but smiled "But I know where to get some chocolate ice cream." She purred like she was holding out the most tempting of bait.

Popeye has spinach. Superman has kryptonite. While one strenthens and one weakens, chocolate is like both: gives her all the energy in the world, and a the resolve of a two year old inches away from her favourite toy.

"Where?"

Does Harley know she has Parker hook like, and rocky road?

Harley has a wicked smile and gives a spin towards the exit.

"Come on~ The first ones on me!"

Oh she knows, and she's eager to see what kind of trouble they could get into on a sugar rush from entirely too much ice cream.

The parlor has no idea what sort of a storm of chaos is on it's way.

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[Closed] District 9: Meet the Prawns

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/wraping up?