Oh, you were waxing alright. You could probably use your poetic license as a fucking mirror right now. Why don't you give it more of a spit-shine, since you're yammering on over there. I'll wait. [Just as long as she doesn't rhyme, things will be okay in time.
...damn it.]
Because picking on Tavros is just so much pain for you. Really, I don't know how you can even stand to talk to him for more than a minute without ending up curling up in the larval position and begging for mercy.
I think if this is a prison, and you were sentenced~ it'd be for entirely different reasons, Vriska. Reasons wholly unrelated to any psychological torture you think you inflict on yourself.
[Of course, now she was wondering.] Is anyone else here?