#alabasterartisan

13 - On a Bus

“MP come on ii could liiterally fly u2 there iin liike ten miinute2 or le22.”

“Come now sweetie its good to do a little walking! And you see such fascinating people in public transit! Besides, Queenie told me it causes quite the stir, you flying around like that. Might get mistaken for an enemy ship!”

Sollux didn’t want to remind her that ‘enemy’ ships from the Black Queen’s perspective meant Prospitan ones, and also didn’t feel like waiting around while the curvaceous carapacian tried to introduce him to the bus driver. Leaving her to her own small talk with the driver he made his way through the crowded vehicle to the window side of the benchlike last seat of the bus.

Packed as the bus was becoming, he politely set a husktop bag onto the seat next to him to reserve for Paint until she could finish talking and head back. Of course, when she actually began making her way down the aisle the coming problem became evident. While only a little taller than Sollux, Ms. Paint was a substantially wider person. Her powerful bust seemed to take up most of the aisle, and her almost comically gifted lower half bumped and scraped against every passenger on either side on her way back. Narrow public transit seats might’ve sat Sollux just fine, but Paint would hardly be contained to one.

With her sitting down, the troll found himself squashed between the window of the bus and the absurd plushness of Ms. Paint’s side. She showed no signs of minding. This alone would’ve simply made for a slightly uncomfortable trip, but more and more carapacians crowded onto the vehicle, and eventually another came to sit in what little space was left on the bench on the other side of Paint. Ever polite, the jovial woman pressed up closer toward the person she knew rather than take up a stranger’s space, leaving Sollux a blushing mess of gold as her chest proudly competed with his head for size and space.

“Oh I’m sorry Sollux, you look terribly uncomfortable! Should I see if I can’t give you more room?”“uhh, that miight be niice, iif you can MP. iit’2 more than a liittle cramped over here.”

“I’ve got just the ticket, you hang in there!”

Not wanting to move his head and jostle the pillows trying to smother him, Sollux was unable to notice Paint pulling a small gun out of her purse and turning it upon him. With barely a flash he found himself with much, much more space, albeit in all directions as he dwindled to a scant inch. With Paint still an overflowing presence above his seat almost didn’t seem to have grown much at all. The carapacian’s hand descended upon him, scooping him up and depositing the diminished troll atop her skirt on her lap to giggles from above. “There you go dear! First class seating, hoo!”

Sollux had a dilemma he decided as he stood in front of the massive door to a strangely quaint looking dwelling on a green moon. His thought when setting out had been that it was high time he checked in on the one Karkat he'd heard of in a similar situation to himself, but trying to track the crab down turned up half a dozen leads to different locations in Paradox Space. Well he sure as fuck wasn't going to the Battleship Condescension, didn’t know how to access whatever fucked up realm outside time and space those Felt freaks lived in, and the regular Alternian one just struck him as being too easy, so there he stood, past a manicured lawn and garden of all things.

Many things qualified as ‘meteoric’ for Sollux, particularly where Ms. Paint were concerned. There was a scant few moments to look up and start lasering before the thing crashed down.

((Its definitely an off the wall one, Paint in canon doesnt have a ton of. anything really so im almost forced to go with alabasterartisan even if that weren’t the intended target. Sollux is socially dense and prone to running himself into the ground so someone with some maternal instincts isn’t a terrible option.))

MP? and me? that2 a whole lot of woman you’re a22umiing would want fuck all two do wiith me there 2hade2. ii don’t know iif anyone really want2 me darkeniing theiir door and gloomiing up the place.

Sollux, standing in the kitchen of Paints abode steeling his will to attempt this most basic level of 'cooking', distractedly answers "goiing by the chart that2 gotta be what, ii? j? hell could be k iim no exp-"

a2 iin what ii2 iit? compliicated ii2 what iit ii2. 2he’2 a very niice lady. very niice. you know what the va2t bulk of Alterniian 2ociiety ii2? not niice.