Chapter Text
Carol puts her head in her hand, kneading her temples with her fingers. Her house has grown too quiet over the years. With Dess' disappearance, Asriel and Kris not coming around very often anymore, and Rudy practically living in the hospital before he moved out, the place slowly but surely became empty and unfamiliar. Gone are the days of the TV blasting, kids screaming and running all over the place, and music pouring out from every room.
As Carol sits on the sofa in the living room and ponders about how things ended up like this, she can't help but dwell on how her house has never been this quiet before. Never felt so utterly empty. Uninhabited.
No matter what happened in the past, Noelle has always been here. She's been the one constant in Carol's life. Whenever she is home, Noelle almost always is too. Carol had initially perfectly aligned her workdays with Noelle's school hours, Cross Country schedule, and the like. But then she started staying to work later and later, and Noelle was usually home hours before her. Or, if Noelle forgot her key, she'd be hanging out at a friend's house.
It was already stressful enough to have to come home and deal with Noelle being behind on her schoolwork, but then having to hear her talking on the phone or laughing about nonsense in her room while Carol tried to relax after a hard day of working... Sometimes, it was just too much.
Carol had never gotten onto Noelle about it though. After Dess, she realized that if something were to ever happen to her other daughter, she'd regret all the times she told her to quiet down when she was just enjoying herself.
She used to get onto Dess about playing too loudly and too often. Her daughter has always been astoundingly gifted with every instrument she touches. But out of all the instruments she could possibly favor, she loves to play her electric guitar. She used to do it every chance she got, and the songs she chose were always irritatingly fast-paced metal, rock, or whatnot. Carol thinks it all sounds relatively the same, but Dess would argue over the differences between punk and punk rock and heavy metal and… the list goes on. Carol just can't keep up with all of that stuff. It's why she sticks to the classics, and why she wishes Dess would have played the piano more, like Kris.
And Noelle… Now that she has joint custody with Rudy, Carol finds that she really does miss her daughter's presence. In the silence of her large house, Noelle's absence is unbearably noticeable. Just like with Dess, Carol didn't appreciate Noelle's being here enough while she had the chance.
She's tried so hard all these years. She's tried to save her marriage even while she and Rudy both knew it was falling apart. She's tried to keep Kris and Noelle from drifting away from one another. She's tried to get Toriel and Asgore back together. She's done what she can to keep Asgore's flower shop open. Yet no matter what she's done, she's hardly been able to get anything back to the way things were before. It seems as though she's doomed to always move on to an even unhappier future.
Even so, Carol can't seem to stop longing for the past, back when her babies were actually babies and she didn't have all the responsibilities and enemies that she does now. When her family wasn't torn apart, and the most stress she experienced was when Dess or Kris got into too much trouble. When she wasn't the mayor. When she had friends. When Rudy was infatuated with her. When her children came to her with all their problems…
Carol takes a deep breath, sighs, and looks about the room. Across from the couch, the TV is turned off. On the shelves of the decorative table it sits upon are CDs, VHS tapes, and framed family photos—all organized to near-perfection. The coffee table before her is wiped clean, but the edge is still chipped from where Dess knocked her old guitar into it. She also spots the brown stain on the rug from where Kris and Noelle were playing and spilled chocolate milk. She wanted to replace the ruined thing, but Rudy had been all sentimental about it—said they would be able to look back on the stain fondly twenty years in the future. Well.
She comes to a sudden realization. If she wanted to, she could just get rid of it now. It's her place. She can do whatever she pleases—repaint the walls, replace the worn-down furniture, install a hot tub, anything! But… No, that's too much to think about right now.
Carol has always liked her house to be cold. Precisely 66° Fahrenheit in the summer, and maybe even up to 68° Fahrenheit in the colder months. It keeps the house feeling and smelling clean, it's good for her asthma, and if anyone thinks it's too chilly, they can just change into warmer clothes. It's simple, really, and Dess is the only one who ever complained about it.
Now, Carol is sure the house may as well be covered in ice. A cardigan doesn't keep out the chill, nor does lying in bed when she doesn't have work. It's always there.
Her house has never felt so big or so cold. There's no one to run up and down the halls, play the piano, starve her collectable robots, nearly burn down the house trying to cook, sing in the shower—nothing. After all the years she's spent bending this home into shape, Carol finally feels out of place within these walls. She's a grown adult now, but she's sure that even as a child, she never felt quite this small.
All her life, she's never felt so alone.
Carol gets to her feet and heads for the kitchen. Her mouth is dry. She needs water, but nothing too chilly. Her throat is already clenched up as it is, and that'll make it worse.
She settles for turning the faucet to warm and filling up a glass of tap water. It's uncivilized to do so, especially when she has purified bottled water in the fridge. But she doesn't feel like getting out the kettle just to heat up some water, nor does she want to put a mug in the microwave. Carol just doesn't have the energy for either of those options.
After she finishes, she leaves the cup in the sink with the rest of the dishes she has yet to clean up. She… She needs to get to that. She will eventually, because she hates a messy house, and she used to always get onto Noelle about leaving dirty dishes in the sink when she could just wash them right when she'd finished using them. And yet, look at her now.
A cold chill wracks her body, leaving her hands feeling all jittery and her mind all too aware of her pulse. Carol plants her hands onto the counter and takes a deep breath. She can't remember if she took her nerve pill earlier or if that was yesterday. All of Carol's days seem to blur together recently, so if she actually hasn't taken it in two or three days, she wouldn't even be surprised.
Carol closes her eyes and tries to just focus on her breathing for a minute. She's not going to panic over whether or not she took her pill—the very same one that's designed to make her not panic in the first place. She'll just have to wait until tomorrow to take another. She's not going to risk accidentally taking two. That would be unwise.
When she opens her eyes, they immediately stray to the unused piano across the room. It's been collecting dust for years, and it's probably way out of tune. Carol hasn't gotten around to messing with it lately, especially with Dess now having moved out. After all that happened with the Dark World and with Kris not really being able to play anymore, it's just too much to even have to look at it.
Carol decides that it's also too much to stay in this desolate house while she's in this state. If she's left with her thoughts for much longer, she's just going to spiral. She needs some new scenery. And maybe a drink.
Somehow, Carol finds herself in the Dark World. Apparently, thanks to Kris and their new friends, Castle City has gained a copious amount of residents. It's now huge and ever-expanding, with an assortment of recently constructed homes, successful businesses, recreational establishments, and plenty of other places to pass the time.
Unlike in Hometown, in this grand city, Carol is almost a nobody. There's hardly anyone here who knows or could recognize her. She can just take a breather and focus on clearing her head. And if she looks stressed and unkempt, there's no one to judge her. At least here, she won't be able to ruin her reputation as mayor more than she already has.
After a short while of traversing through Castle City, Carol ends up stumbling across a high-tech bar with a large neon sign shining atop it. It's likely her best bet, so she steps inside and thankfully finds that the lingering miasma of smoke isn't nearly strong enough to choke her out. It's also dark enough in here that even the blue lights outlining the ceiling, the booths, and the main bar probably won't give her a headache if she doesn't look directly at them.
Once she glances around the place, Carol finds that there aren't too many Darkners in here. The few groups occupying some of the booths all appear to be relaxed and minding their own business, which is fine with her. She takes a seat up at the front bar and waits on a bartender to come and attend to her. Luckily, she does have a decent amount of dark dollars on her.
There's some sort of cyber-esque music playing from a giant set of speakers on each side of the bar, though the volume is on low. It's just another strange quirk of this world that Carol won't bother questioning.
She's not sure what the alcohol here tastes like, nor if it can even get her drunk, but there's no way she's drinking anywhere in Hometown. Since the food here can heal her but not get her full, perhaps the alcohol will still have some sort of pleasant effect. Hopefully it'll give her some kind of buzz, at the very least.
Carol only starts to wonder what's taking the bartender so long to get out here before someone plops down in the seat right next to her. She tries not to startle too much as she turns her head to get a look at this Darkner.
Oh, a robot of some sort. They have a strange monitor for eyes, but other than that, Carol has to admit that they are impeccably dressed. Their outfit is sleek and stylish, and somewhat similar to Carol's own Dark World outfit in terms of color.
The Darkener smiles, their screen showing a few exclamation points in a big red font. They fan their face in a sophisticated manner. "Woah Mama Is It Hot In Here Or Is My CPU Overheating"
The sound of a fan whirring starts and steadily grows louder.
For reasons she doesn't want to think about, Carol is feeling a sense of deja vu.
"Out of all the empty chairs in this establishment, what compelled you to take a seat right next to me?" Carol asks, her tone frosty. "Do you go out of your way to bother strangers on purpose, or are you dense enough to believe anyone and everyone would be delighted to be burdened with your company?"
"Wow Did You Just Read Me WTF" The robot puts their hands on their cheeks, their mouth dropping open in shock. Their screen displays @ symbols for eyes.
"Anyway I Was Curious Cuz Ur Literally A Lightner And I Have No Idea Who You Are"
Oh. Carol supposes that makes a bit of sense. Even still, it's still rude to just go up and invade someone's personal space like this. Surely this person must at least understand that she is not in the mood for any shenanigans.
"You don't need to know who I am. I didn't come here to socialize," Carol retorts, crossing her arms over her chest.
The robot leans on the bar top and smirks, their screen flickering and showing the word, "WOULD"
"Would…?" Carol asks.
"Oh Definitely In A Heartbeat Except I Don't Have A Heart I Have A PSU"
Carol closes her eyes, breathes in and out, and tries to hold back from losing her cool. Just because this is the Dark World, that doesn't mean that she can just beat the shit out of any annoying and confusing robot she wants. They're not even in a battle sequence, so she wouldn't be able to easily do so anyway.
Unfortunately, this robot is probably not going to leave her alone. But, if Carol is being completely honest with herself, it's at least a little better than being stuck in her quiet home. She'll just have to deal with it. "Well, have you got a name, or are you going to ceaselessly irritate me without being polite?"
"You Can Call Me Anything You Want Swee—"
Carol shoots the robot a glare.
Their smile pauses in place, screen blank.
"Technically My Name Is Serial Number Q5U4EX7YY2E9N But You Can Call Me Queen"
"Is that some kind of joke?"
"No Lol That's Literally My Name"
Well, out of all the Darkners Carol has met, it's not the weirdest of names she's come across.
"If you say so. I'm M—" She pauses, her shoulders slumping ever so slightly. "…Carol."
When that name falls from her lips, it's like all her burdens go along with it. She isn't the mayor here. She's just a random patron. She can just be Carol. When was the last time she told someone her name? Just like that? It's… freeing, in a sense.
With her elbow still on the bar top, Queen tilts her hand back so that her finger can point toward Carol as she admits, "Wow That Name Is Really Fitting For You"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Queen's screen flashes the letters, "MILF"
Carol has no idea what that's supposed to mean either.
"N E Wayz Where Is The Bartender I'm Too Sober For This Lol"
"I was wondering the same thing. I've been waiting for quite a while."
"Running Diagnostics… Estimated Wait Time: 30 Seconds"
Before Carol can even begin to wonder what she's talking about, Queen jumps up, flips over the counter, and flies into the kitchen. Carol blinks, trying to process whatever just happened.
A moment later, Queen emerges and flips back into her seat. Then, a swatchling comes out from the kitchen and walks up to approach Queen and Carol.
"Apologies for the wait. There was a bit of a mishap in the kitchen, but it's being handled now. What can I get for you?"
Queen plants her forearm onto the bartop again and leans forward. "Yo Bring A Round Of Battery Acid For Me And My New IRL OOMF And Serve It In A Non-Dangerous Glass Or I'll Fear For: My Safety"
The bartender falters. "Forgive me for my confusion, my queen, but you always ask for extra dangerous glasses."
"Yeah Well This Ice Queen Next To Me Is Dangerous Enough With A Regular (Degular) Glass"
The bartender nods and gets to making the drinks.
Carol isn't even going to ask about that last bit. She's aware that some Darkners are quite… unusual. She's more concerned about the drink, though. Carol has never heard of that before. "I'm capable of ordering my own drink, thank you very much. But Battery Acid? Is that some kind of cocktail?"
"No Lol It's Battery Acid"
"There's no way it's actually… Right. This is the Dark World."
"Run Laughing Protocol" Queen says before she laughs, her hand coming up to fan her mouth.
Carol is taken aback. Queen's laugh is like nothing she's ever heard before. It's unique, and while she can see it getting annoying over time, she can't help but feel drawn to this person— robot— …woman? Whatever. Actually, now that she thinks about it, one of the things that originally drew her to Rudy was his own unique laugh. And, embarrassingly enough, the way he refused to stop getting on her nerves to such a degree that it became almost endearing to her.
Oh, look at that. She's just found herself thinking of one of the people she's currently trying to forget about. Great.
Carol huffs. She wants to place her arms down on the counter and rest her head, but that wouldn't do for her image. She'd never allow herself to be seen in such a sloppy position, even if she were drunk.
But, then again, she isn't in Hometown. The whole reason she came here in the first place is because she wants the freedom to do as she pleases without consequences and rumors spreading around town. She already gets shit-talked enough.
Thankfully, the bartender setting down a martini glass in front of her is a decent enough distraction from her internal dilemma. While Queen brings the cup to her lips and takes a sip, Carol hesitantly picks up her own glass and only gets a whiff of it. This stuff certainly doesn't smell like acid, but strangely enough, it does smell sweet in a fruity sort of way. There's also the obvious stench of alcohol that accompanies it.
She takes a moment to consider whether or not this will kill her. Technically, it's the Dark World, and any food consumed here isn't real. Could it kill her? Would a sip hurt?
Figuring that she doesn't have much to lose, Carol takes a small sip and lets it sit on her tongue. It's. Literally a Midori sour.
"It's Totally Epic Right" Queen asks, swirling the liquid around in her glass. "This Shit Is GOATed Like I'm Such A Big Fan Of Melons"
For once, Carol actually does understand the peculiar words coming out of her strange companion's mouth. GOAT stands for Greatest Of All Time. See? She can be hip and cool sometimes.
"It's not unpleasant," Carol admits. Despite what other people may believe, she likes her drinks to actually taste somewhat nice. She would take a margarita or a wine cooler over beer any day.
"So What Are You Doing In A Bar In Castle City Is This A Tourist Attraction For Lightners Now" Queen asks. "OMG If This Place Gets Overcrowded I'm Going To Have To Open Up Another Dark Fountain Like WTF"
Carol looks over, alarmed, and Queen slaps a hand down on the bar with a laugh.
"Oops Just Kidding I Forgot To Say Slash J Don't Cancel Me Plz"
Seeing as how she probably isn't going to be judged too much here, especially as her uninvited companion is a strange case herself, Carol finally leans her weight onto the bar top. She swirls the glass with her other hand slowly and carefully, making sure not a single drop splashes over the rim. "Truth be told, I barely even know how I ended up here. I just need a break from everything. Being mayor isn't all it's cracked up to be. And my daughters… They're both... They clearly don't want me around. Something, something, teenage rebellion—among other things."
Carol mentally scolds herself as soon as she finishes spilling her guts out. Why did she say all of that? And to such an insufferable person, no less?
Queen taps her fingers against the bar top and nods. "Wow I've Been There Except Not Really"
"How? How could you have possibly been in this situation?"
"Well All My Exes Hate Me For Some Reason" Queen notes, pointing up a finger. "And I Grew Fond Of This Girl One Time Who Was Lowkey My Daughter Figure And She Made Me Let Kris Close The Cyber World's Dark Fountain But Honestly It Was A Good Call Cuz I Had No Idea About The Roaring Lol"
What.
"She Said No Hard Feelings But I'm Pretty Sure She Tries To Avoid Me Now Sob" The screen acting as her eyes turns to a symbol reading as "T-T"
Carol isn't sure what the Ts stand for, but she realizes it's probably another internet slang term she doesn't understand. With all of this slang Queen spews, Carol wonders just how young this woman is. Based on her appearance, Carol would think she's maybe in her late twenties or early thirties—a stark contrast to Carol, who's in her mid-forties.
"And I Know She's Her Own Person And I Was Kinda Clingy But I Can't Help But Want To Look Out For Her Like What If She Has Potassium Deficiency And I Don't Know Because She Won't Talk To Me Like She's A Textbook Disaster Lesbian So She Needs Extra Potassium" Queen rambles, the spots for eyes on her monitor turning into avocado emojis. "Potaxie"
"I… I don't think she'll die of potassium deficiency. I mean, it's way more likely to have, say, an iron or vitamin A deficiency."
"Wot Really Let Me Look This Up" Queen's screen shows a spinning loading symbol, then a couple of exclamation points. "Wow Ur Right"
"Of course I am. What kind of mother would I be if I wasn't on top of my daughter's vitamin and mineral intake? I mean, not that she listens to me anyway," Carol mutters, then sighs. She rubs at her temples for a moment. "Sorry. I've been trying to sort out my issues with her recently."
"Lmao It's Okay My IRL DMs Are Open For Venting Just Don't Trauma Dump"
Carol is a bit curious about one thing. "So, do you have experience with children, or is this your first rodeo?"
"In My Case The Answer Is Both" Queen responds. "My Very Bouncy Son Has Been Showing Me His MP3s Lately He Has Good Taste In Splat Noises"
"So you really are a mother?"
"WHAT NO Lmao I'm A Girldad."
"...Okay."
A week later, Noelle is off at her dad's house. Once again, the silence gets to Carol. She needs to get out of the house. Out of this town.
Loathe as she is to admit it to herself, Carol kind of misses Queen's presence. She hasn't been able to stop thinking about her. It might have to do with the fact that she's been pretty isolated lately. That's the only time she's had someone actually express genuine interest toward her while they interacted. No one else really cares to speak with her unless they have to. Even if they don't come out and say it, it's clear to see.
Somehow, Carol finds herself back in that very same bar in the Dark World. She mentally curses at whatever traitorous chemicals in her brain make her feel relief of all things when she spots Queen out of the corner of her eye. She shouldn't feel this way. So, then, why does she eagerly await for Queen to come greet her? Something is definitely wrong with her.
Queen ambles over to her and plops down next to her, the drink in her hand sloshing around in the cup but somehow not spilling. "Hey There Ice-Cold Mama My Favorite MILF Has Returned"
Carol rolls her eyes and doesn't dignify that with a response, but she also doesn't stop Queen when she orders them another round of Battery Acid.
This time around, their conversation flows easily. So many thoughts come spilling out of Carol's mouth, and Queen listens intently. Time seems to slow down as they speak, even as patrons in the bar come and go.
And then something very, very strange happens. Carol is going on about how stressful it is having so many responsibilities, and Queen keeps throwing in an "IKR???" here and there. And then…
Carol looks over as Queen swirls the drink around in her glass, her slender fingers clumsy, but her drink doesn't slosh over the edge. She brings the glass to her mouth, takes a sip, licks her lips, and bites her bottom lip before she lets it slide out from from between her teeth. It's plump and wet and—
It's then that Carol realizes this has distracted her so much that she's stopped talking altogether, simply staring at this… this computer who should not be making her feel such a strange way.
"See Something U Like" Queen asks.
Carol huffs. "No, nothing comes to mind."
This does not dissuade her. "Want A Taste" Queen leans forward to offer her drink to Carol, grinning smugly.
"I've got my own, thanks," Carol says contritely.
"Ooh Someone's Pent Up And Needs To Let Off Some Steam"
Carol slams her hand down onto the bar with one hand and jabs a finger into Queen's chest with the other. "You don't know what you're talking about. Can you do anything other than push my buttons?"
"Oh I Can Push More than Just Your Buttons" Queen puts a hand over Carol's, which is still touching her chest. "My Place Or Yours Sweetheart"
Alright, she's had it!
Carol taps the side of Queen's cup, turning the liquid inside to ice and coating the glass in a layer of frost.
Queen tilts the cup upside down to see that it is, in fact, completely frozen.
"Wow U Rlly Just Did That Huh"
Carol walks out of the bar.
Carol comes back two days later. And that's after she forced herself to not show up the day before. She does have some degree of self-control, thank you very much. Not to mention that she has been really busy with work anyway, staying up on her laptop late into the night and making all sorts of calls to people who seem to have been born yesterday.
She really could use another break.
This time around, the bar is surprisingly quiet. Some addisons are sitting around in a corner hanging out, smoking, and laughing amongst themselves in a relaxed manner. There are a few groups of other Darkners gathered around the sleek-looking tables, and something that looks like a puzzle piece is passed out across the bar from Carol, their hand resting against an empty glass on the bar top.
Unfortunately, Queen isn't there. She doesn't show.
Fortunately, Carol corrects herself. It's nice to have some peace and quiet.
Carol orders Battery Acid and pretends the calm atmosphere of the bar is enough to satiate her.
When she returns home that night, Carol is still finding herself burdened with thoughts of that insufferable woman. She has acted so boldly and flirted so casually, and somehow Carol doesn't completely hate her company. It isn't that she misses her or anything, but the bar didn't feel quite the same without her there to be confusing and mesmerizing. No, charming. No! Annoying! That's more like it.
As she checks her emails on her laptop, Carol's mind wanders, and she begins to grow curious at one of the strange terms Queen had said a few times. Specifically, one that she had used on Carol.
This is how Carol ends up distracted enough from her work to open up a new tab and search up the word from how she remembers it.
"What does milf mean?"
In the blink of an eye, a litany of search results pops up. And there, at the top of the screen, reads: Mother I'd like to fuck.
Carol has to do a double take to make sure she's reading correctly. After a quick look at what a few different websites have to say about the term, she concludes that it really does mean something so vulgar.
Is that really what Queen has been calling her this whole time? That's…
It has to be a joke, right? Carol is getting older. She's not nearly as attractive as she was considered to be back in her college days. Not to mention that she's self-aware enough to know her personality isn't very inviting.
But… Queen really had flirted with her quite a lot, actually. Carol thought that Queen had just been doing it to get a rise out of her, but looking back, was she really? It makes sense, and yet a small part of her sort of wants the flirting to be real.
Could Queen really have any sort of interest in her?
Or, could Carol even be interested in Queen at all? Like that?
No, surely not. She's probably just a bit lonely and latching onto someone who pays attention to her. That's all it is. Seriously.
Carol comes back to the bar the very next day. Queen is there this time. She slides over and pops into the same chair right next to Carol as though this is second nature to her.
"Back Already" Queen asks. "Did You Miss Me Or Do You Just Have Really Bad FOMO"
Carol crosses her arms and refrains from rolling her eyes. "You are… excessively annoying."
Queen doesn't say anything, but her screen flashes a "WTF"
"But it's better than staying cooked up in my house. I think it's… messing with my head," Carol finally admits. It's like a small weight is lifted from her shoulders. Like now that she's said it out loud, suddenly, it somehow feels like less of a burden on her.
"That's Rough Buddy Slash Ref"
"You don't know the half of it," Carol responds, unfortunately far too used to Queen saying strange things to make a comment on it. "But I'll manage. I've dealt with far worse. This is just something I'll have to learn to live with. I can't come to the Dark World every single day to escape my problems."
Something has to be said about the way all of that just came spewing out of her mouth. To Queen, of all people. Whilst Sober. And it's not even the first time she's done so—that's the real kicker.
And Queen just nods, as though she's listening and understanding everything Carol is saying. And. And.
"Stop it," Carol says, her tone biting.
"Wait Wot I Legit Didn't Do Anything"
"Stop—" Carol starts, weakly holding up a hand before she balls it into a tight fist and sets it down on her thigh. She exhales as she does so, frustration easing out of her. "Just. Stop it. Stop being so…"
"Is It Cuz I'm A Computer With A Lack Of Understanding Of Social Cues Lol"
Carol resists the urge to put her head in her hands or do something far more dramatic and incredibly childish. "Just. Stop being so damn good at listening to me. You just sit there and agree with me. You don't even argue back. Nothing bothers you, and you hardly ask questions about anything. You've hardly even told me anything about you. How can you stand to be like that?"
For a moment, Queen just stares at her with that damn smile stuck on her face. Then, she laughs. "There Is Straight Up No Way You'd Care To Listen To Me Talk About Myself"
Carol hums contemplatively. She places an elbow on the bar top and rests her cheek on her knuckles. All sense of correct posture and looking pristine has been thrown out the window. "Maybe a few days ago, but… try me."
So she does. Queen tells her about what her life was like when she was Queen of the Cyber World. About how she now shares custody of Lancer with several other dads she's not in a relationship with. About the things she's been getting up to lately and how she's been relaxing now that she has fewer responsibilities.
And maybe it's just the dim lighting of the bar or the—oh, no, they haven't even ordered drinks this time. But something has got to be making Queen look so… lively? Striking?
She does have a nice figure, objectively speaking. The way her clothes hug her form, how her thighs and calves look sculpted from marble, and the expressive way she moves her hands. It's like she's incapable of staying fully still, always doing something to catch the eyes of everyone around her.
But the way she talks, the way she laughs… how she doesn't once look away from Carol…
Well, these feelings stirring up within her are certainly not new. But, perhaps, Carol might just be willing to welcome them.
And, she realizes, she doesn't really have anything to lose here. If things don't go well, she can just stay away from the Dark World for a while. Or this bar in general.
"So What Do U Think Am I Cool And Interesting" Queen asks, putting her head between the down-turned backs of her hands in a dramatic pose.
Carol hums, an interesting thought popping up in her mind. "So, you do have a son…"
"Um Yeah Lol I Said That A Couple Times"
"So, doesn't that also make you a MILF?"
Queen pauses, her smile frozen on her face and screen blank. Then, a loading symbol pops up on it, spinning slowly.
"My place or yours?" Carol asks, slightly teasingly. She's mainly just trying to see if she can get a rise out of Queen, or possibly even startle her even more than she already has.
The loading symbol disappears, and then Queen's screen shows a ". . ." across it. "R U For Realzies" she asks.
Carol stands up. "I am. Unless you were joking the other day, then in that case—"
"No Wait I Wasn't Joking Please I'm Very Desperate For Hot Whoops I Mean Sexy Wait No Typo I Man Cold Single Moms In My Area"
Carol can't help but smirk despite herself.