Caliborn had very high standards for a potential partner. Though there were many,many people he hated, it took a very particular type of person to elicit feelings that were truly pitch. The person, he thought, had to be insufferably smug, a sharp-tongued pretty boy who couldn't go ten seconds without making some insipid remark he considered "witty". Also, he typed in putrid orange text, the color of pumpkins, which were truly the nastiest of vegetables.

Yes, he had fallen hate over heels for Dirk Strider.

He had concocted an elaborate plan to reveal his stygian inclinations towards Dirk. This plan involved challenging Dirk to a game of chess. Once Caliborn thoroughly crushed him, the usually stoic boy would begin to feel hatred for the cherub stir in his heart. Then, they would fall deeply, passionately in hate.

But first, he needed to propose the game to Dirk. Now, to make Dirk agree to this game would not be an easy task. It required subtlety. Suaveness. The delivery, Caliborn thought, had to be absolutely perfect.

undyingumbrage [uu] began jeering timaeusTestified

uu: DIRK.

uu: DIRK DIRK DIRK DIRK.

uu: I…

uu: WANT…

uu: TO…

TT: Dude, you're gonna say you want to play a game, right?

TT: Seriously, I don't know why you're bothering with these dramatic pauses and shit.

TT: You think I have all the goddamn time in the world, huh?

TT: Well, fucking shucks, buster, but you're gonna have to make a pretty convincing argument to make me part with my precious time.

TT: I got my hands full doing all this fucking nothing. You think I have time for you?

uu: YOuR WORDS. ARE LIKE YOuR TERRIBLE DRAWINGS.

uu: THEY FALL FLAT.

uu: tumut

TT: Are you implying that my artistic skills are subpar ?

TT: I'll have you know I sweat and bleed for my work.

TT: All to please you.

TT: And you call it subpar like it's a goddamn golfing tournament and my art skills are a drooling toddler who probably shouldn't even be holding the driver.

TT: You heartless fucker.

uu: DIRK. I WANT TO PLAY A GAME.

TT: Oh shit, you don't say.

TT: What kind do you have in mind?

TT: Cause I'll have you know I play a fucking mean game of Chutes and Ladders.

TT: I just keep climbing up that ladder like a goddamn fireman.

TT: Only difference is I'm starting those sick fires instead of dousing them.

TT: These fires leave the sort of burn that never heals

TT: First degree

TT: Second degree

TT: college degree

TT: There's no limit to the degrees of burns, motherfucker.

uu: I AM uNFAMILIAR WITH YOuR PRIMITIVE HuMAN PASTIMES.

uu: I AM TALKING ABOuT A GAME OF MINDS.

TT: Shit, I'll bite.

TT: What kind of game of minds are you talking about?

uu: CHESS, DIRK. I AM INVITING YOU TO PLAY CHESS.

TT: You missed an lowercase u there.

uu: SHIT.

uu: I MEANT YOu.

TT: Well, shit, dude.

TT: I don't know if you got the memo, but we're literally worlds away, assuming you're an alien like you say you are.

uu: I AM.

uu: WE WILL PLAY THIS MATCH. ONLINE.

uu: YOu WILL STRUGGLE. TO ESCAPE MY CRuSHING GRIP. AS I THOROuGHLY OWN YOuR ASS.

TT: Well, alright then.

TT: I had whole lot of plans involving sitting on my ass and doing nothing but I guess I'll clear my busy schedule for you.

uu: HA HA HA. YES.

[uu] ceased jeering timaeusTestified [TT].

Caliborn smirked, fangs glistening in the room's dim light. Dirk had fallen right into his trap, if traps left the trapper emotionally vulnerable and the trappee could opt out at any time.

Soon, Strider would be his to hate.