Finally. After endless searching, she'd done it. She'd lost her jacket on the way, and the tank-top she wore underneath was now embarrassingly grubby and sweat-stained, but she'd done it. Vriska had found him.

Bro.

Neither noticing nor caring that her hair was now tangled up in a frizzy mess, Vriska tightened her grip on the object clutched within her hand. This was it. No backing down now. She approached the insufferable prick with deliberate slowness, glaring with all the intensity she could muster.

"Hello, humminburr."

Bro didn't respond, of course. He was far too cool and unflappable for that. Vriska continued on regardless.

"I got a present for you." Her gaze flickered towards the precious object as she raised her arm. Oh Jegus. When did it get so stained? So embarrassing. "It's a little dirty," she muttered, feeling a cerulean flush of shame spread across her face. "Uh."

Again, Bro remained silent. There might have been the slightest quirk of a brow behind his shitty anime shades, but that was all. What could you possibly say about, well... that?

"Well? Don't just stand there, asshole. You go first." Vriska shoved the present into Bro's hands with a hiss of frustration. "Jegus fuck, Strider. Haven't you ever seen a filial pail before?"