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So! Kale's been a sort of vagabond since she lost her apartment at the start of dimension 0, and she just happened to bust into Remy after he beat up to idiots.
POINTS FOR CORE, BBY



RP:

Rémy was a little annoyed. Okay, a lot annoyed. This was the second time this week someone had seemed to ignore the fact that he had a goddamn pickaxe in his hand and had tried to mug him, and it was driving him seriously insane. Well, he supposed he could understand it. Desperate times and desperate measures and all that shit. Still, he didn't have to like it - even though some sick, twisted inner part of his mind did - and he brushed the dirt off of his jacket and wiped the blood off of his helmet after yet another victory. Of course. Who could expect differently? Arrogant, Rémy took a step back to admire his handiwork: two unconscious bodies, both receiving a merciless blow to the head with the wooden hilt of his pickaxe.

Kale had been out for the full span of the day, rather annoyed with everyone around. Not only had some Core idiots decided to rescue some useless woman from a building, they'd tried to drag her in too! As if she'd waste the faction's precious life energy. Night had fallen several hours ago and with no place to sleep, she'd become rather used to raiding out places to stay at. Tonight, she was moving into an apartment, when she'd heard the bloody cries of a battle, and upon further inspection found a not so unfamiliar face with a pickaxe. "Hey! Kid! You're the one who ran away from my advances!" She sidestepped the bodies on the floor, and found that their blood covered him. "Oh wow..."

He turned quickly when he heard "kid", sputtering. Oh god. There was miss "let me touch your pickaxe". His expression was the very epitome of "fuckin' perfect", and he cocked a hip, smirking at her. "Well well. If it isn't the barbarian. I'm not a child, I assure you." he greeted, watching her approach and avoid the bodies. "Mmm," he purred, kneeling down to nudge one. "I'm sure he'll be fine. Maybe." He looked up at her. "And what are you doing here?"

She laughed at his reaction to her approach, biting back more laughter when he picked at one of the bodies. "I'm here looking for some place to stay. I don't suppose you'd be willing to have a home wrecker?" As she spoke, she found herself purposely stepping on the other bodies chest, wrenching a whimper from his throat. It was a sort of show of her own capability as a ruthless fighter.

He looked amused, cocking a brow at her. "Home wrecker indeed," he teased, getting back to his feet. "What, your old place burn down or something?" He still had his own apartment - it was in one of the more . . . empty places in this city. Not a safe area to be in, but he didn't need to worry about that. "I don't see why not, 's long as you don't cut my throat while I sleep." He snorted when the guy whimpered beneath her shoe, the sadistic part of him finding it impressive of her, and the not-so horrible part of him feeling a slight bit bad for the guy.

Keeping the same cheerful tone he'd used, Kale smiled and replied, "Naaaah, it just got swallowed by a black whole. You know, the usual." She paused when he mentioned having his throat slit, and frowned. "I don't use weapons. Only my fists. Weapons are for weaklings who can't rely on their own strength to win, and instead use tools to cut at their opponents." Opponent's eyes, she'd been near saying, but avoided mentioning that. "Though hey, you look strong yourself, even with that little joystick of yours."

He snorted. The usual, huh. Certainly so in this new, dark world. Black patches were becoming a regular sight. He cocked a brow at her, smirking. "My mistake. Don't strangle me, then." He lifted his pickaxe, looking almost offended. "She is heavy, you know. It takes strength to lift her and carry her and use her. Weapons are not so easy. Besides, who cares how you win, as long as you win, no?" He seemed pleased at her next comment though, even a little smug. "I know. It's because I am strong."

Now Kale /really/ couldn't hold back her laughter. "Don't get too cocky, kid!" She found herself patting him on the shoulder, approaching him easily enough. "Now, where's my new home? I've been walking all day and I'd like a little rest, if you don't mind. Or hey, you could keep beating this idiots up, I don't mind. Though..." she paused to kick one of them, and was greeted with a pained cry. "Oh, never mind, they still have some juice!"

He pouted, hard. "I am not cocky. It isn't cocky if it's the truth - which it is." He glared at her hand, but looked back up to her face a moment later, frowning. "New home for /tonight/." he corrected, before nodding for her to follow him. "They're not worth it. They can barely do anything but whimper like connards for their mothers." he said flatly, with a smirk. "Now come along, or you'll get lost."

"Speaking of mothers," she grumbled low in her throat. "Shall I also hold your hand when crossing the street?" She asked petulantly, mimicking his accent. "Or are you confident that I won't up and kill someone on the way there?"

He snorted. "You are not from France." is all he said in response to the accent. "And please, sweet thing, I know you want to touch my pickaxe and hold my hand, but we barely know each other." He shrugged. "Je ne sais pas. Prove me wrong, and we'll see."

"I don't need to be," she continued in her faux accent, striding forward while pumping her arms back and forth vigorously. "And honey, you say I want to touch you so badly," she glanced back at him as she passed him by a few steps, "but that blush of yours the other day said those feelings belonged to someone that wasn't me."

He laughed. "I am sorry; you misunderstand. What I mean is, your accent is fake and very obviously so." He watched her pass by him, crossing his arms in amusement. He only hummed deep in his chest when she spoke. "A quick tongue like that must be useful for many things," he said darkly, but the smirk on his face betrays his words, "but finding your way to /my/ home may be hard while you're in front of me. I invite you to try, however."

At that, she grinned and stopped walking, cocking her hips one way and then the other. "Welll, hohohoooo! I zee zat ve must go zat a way!" Blindly, she pointed, and her feet carried her in the pointed direction with that same odd stride of hers.

He rolled his eyes, but followed after her. "You got lucky, connard." he said sweetly, almost affectionately. "But don't expect it to happen again." Why did he decide to let her come with him? Oh lord.

"Ohohoho, mademoiselle, but eet will! I am fine master of finding zee homes!" Then she paused in her strides and turned around abruptly to look him in the eye. "By the way, what exactly is a "connard." And I don't think I ever got your name last time." Again, she turned back to her navigating duties, glancing back once more to flash a simple, childish smile.

He quietly opened and closed his fingers, mimicing a mouth opening and closing to mock her while she couldn't see. He paused when she turned around abruptly, smiling innocently. "It means, in your tongue, 'motherfucker'." he said brightly, the epitome of cheerful. "I am Rémy. And you are...?"

"Motherfucker," she responded, turning back around. "Oh dear, I thought you already knew, with the way you kept blathering it this whole time. You didn't really think my question was serious, now, did you?" Upon reaching an intersection, she paused, straightened up and then spun herself around, her hand and index finger stretched out. She stopped spinning left of where they started out and grinned. "That a way!"

He laughed. "And this is the part where I'm surprised to learn you never had any friends, right? With that attitude," he snorted, "surprised would be an exaggeration. I'll remind you I've invited you to my home. Making me angry seems not very wise, no?" He smirked. "Lucky for you, I can be very patient." He watches her trudge down the street, calling, "Au revoir, madame! My home is to the right!"

"Oui! I knew that!" She didn't of course, but she turned around as if she'd never been wrong, and continued forward, that confident look on her face. "And who said I was trying to anger you, mademoiselle? I am simply carrying out small talk with you!" Again, she turned around but continued walking backwards, grinning as she faced Remy. "Tell me now, what is it that I, Motherfucker, am saying that angers you so?"

(there's more but WOWOW too much okay)
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madsymadsy's avatar
lmfao i love kale. she's so sassy <333 + blatant sexual tension is a win