[Johanna is, obviously, no stranger to mood swings. Laughing one minute and pissed off the next, she can definitely sympathize with Kate right now.
Or, well. If she was someone prone to actual sympathy, maybe she could sympathize. Her version of sympathy is a little different: it means she's laying mostly on the bed with her pants pulled half-off, staring at Kate with an air of amusement and wariness, like she's concerned that she might explode, but it would be kind of funny if she did.]
Wow. [That's mild enough, even if her gaze is a bit more cutting.] Hi. Shitty is right.
[Primly, she scoots herself up so she's actually sitting on the bed, and lifts her hips to work her pants the rest of the way off, too. Down to her underwear and wool socks and t-shirt, she raises her eyebrows at Kate.]
Maybe you should tell me who pissed in your pancakes first, because that was seriously over-dramatic. Then I'll tell you one. It can be like a game. You love games. [She quirks the corner of her mouth upwards, sort of teasing.] Hey, is that one from your list? Games?
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Or, well. If she was someone prone to actual sympathy, maybe she could sympathize. Her version of sympathy is a little different: it means she's laying mostly on the bed with her pants pulled half-off, staring at Kate with an air of amusement and wariness, like she's concerned that she might explode, but it would be kind of funny if she did.]
Wow. [That's mild enough, even if her gaze is a bit more cutting.] Hi. Shitty is right.
[Primly, she scoots herself up so she's actually sitting on the bed, and lifts her hips to work her pants the rest of the way off, too. Down to her underwear and wool socks and t-shirt, she raises her eyebrows at Kate.]
Maybe you should tell me who pissed in your pancakes first, because that was seriously over-dramatic. Then I'll tell you one. It can be like a game. You love games. [She quirks the corner of her mouth upwards, sort of teasing.] Hey, is that one from your list? Games?