towerofanimus | 001 ♑ [first honk]

Entry tags:

001 ♑ [first honk]

Characters: OU Gamzee and you!
Setting: Room 1-02, the cafeteria, and anywhere in between!
Format: Either are entirely welcome.
Summary: A doped-up, alien clown awakens in the strangest of places - and decides that he's hungry. Seems like he's got a good handle on priorities. Oh, chocolate shenanigans are good, too, although he hasn't eaten any!
Warnings: None that I can think of, except for Gamzee's filthy mouth.

Room 1-02:
[Sometimes a body just doesn't want to get its motherfuckin' move on. That's cool, though. Whatever it feels like doing, or not doing, is all chill with him. It's not like he wouldn't be laying here motionless anyway. This sure was an uncomfortable way to wake up. The immobility didn't bother him as much as the hard, flat surface he'd been placed upon. It certainly wasn't a recuperacoon - a conclusion he'd only come to because of the depressing lack of sopor slime. It also wasn't his horn pile, which he'd become accustomed to sleeping in while in the Veil. Oh, well! Better not to dwell on such trivial things, and get back at enjoying this wicked nothingness. The crazy feel of paralysis was gone, however, and Gamzee Makara regained his motor skills.

After lamenting the loss of that dope not-moving shit, he rolled not-so-gracefully off of the bed, smacking his large horns on the nightstand and landing with a "thud" on the floor. He'd managed to knock some sheets of paper off of the nightstand on his way down.

Oh. They were letters.

Well, he'd already known Alternia had been destroyed, but he was thankful for whoever wrote the letter to have saved him! And everyone being happy sounded like a fucking awesome time! He wanted to meet the author of this letter - they sounded pretty motherfucking chill.

What wasn't chill was this super-tight jumpsuit he'd been placed in. Who even gets up in a brother's bubble like that? Not that it was a huge deal. He was pretty okay with sharing his personal space, really. He crawled over to the trunk the letter had mentioned, and beamed excitedly when he saw what was inside. Among his usual clothes, which he quickly donned, he proceeded to overturn the chest, spilling bike horns, juggling clubs, and slime all over the floor. This was starting to feel more familiar already!

Eating the slime was not something he probably should have done, but who in their right mind would take an oatmeal-only rule seriously? Better yet, who not in their right mind would even notice that there was an oatmeal-only rule?

Uh-oh. The ol' nutrition sack wasn't feeling too well. In a fit of desperation, he scrambled out of the room and down the hallway.]

Cafeteria:
[After getting situated in his room and having had quite the terrible feeling in his stomach, Gamzee had somehow found his way to the cafeteria. It had taken a while, and he'd ended up going in circles, going into other people's rooms, going back into his own room, and generally unintentionally avoiding the place he'd been searching for.

He didn't really notice the bowl of oatmeal before him, and didn't remember how it got there, for that matter. What was this stuff? It was runny, sloppy, and slid over the edges of its bowl when he wobbled it from side to side (which he was doing quite enthusiastically). It reminded him of a discolored sopor pie... kind of. Hopefully it wouldn't make his digestive sack feel like a bag of angry bees like the pie had, however. He frowned at the thought, momentarily pausing his bowl-spinning game to dip and swirl a few fingers around in the stuff cautiously. The table was full of oatmeal, as were his fingers, now. He was generally making a mess, all while wearing a stupid grin.]

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[ seeing gamzee again is like a punch in the face with more feelings karkat doesn't want to admit to feeling and it's both a burden and a relief; he's had a terrible week, kind of needs a feelings jam, but now he has to watch out for a juggalo who sometimes gets a thirst for the kills and that's a big responsibility.

but it's his responsibility and maybe, maybe he's still glad anyway. leader feelings and all.

so he sits across from gamzee, out of the way so he doesn't end up taking an oatmeal bath and pretends he isn't the most relieved troll in the tower. ]

Food goes in your mouth.

[Karkat he was very enraptured with the oatmeal and you had to go and break him out of his trance! With a final slop of the cereal on to the table, he startled a bit at the sudden suggestion and blinked up at his new guest.]

Brooooo!

[A slow, delighted expression dawned over his ridiculous face as he reached his arms out to wrap around Karkat's head obnoxiously.]

When'd you all get yourself motherfuckin' here, best friend?

[ he didn't miss gamzee at all this doesn't make him happy...! i-idiot! he's caught between very strong feelings; on one hand he kind of wants to punch gamzee in the face; on the other he just wants a really big hug. neither of which he will admit to. ]

I sat down like ten seconds ago.

[It never matters if Karkat wants a crushing brohug or not, he'll get them regardless. Gamzee untangles his arms and plops back down across from him. Oh, did he say something? No? Okay cool.]

Fuckin' dope what's you bein' here and all, brother! A motherfucker gets like, his wake all on wrapped up all snug and shit with these crazy-ass duds and knocks them horns fuckin' fierce on this motherfuckin' table and then I guess like, a brother can't get his eat on of no pies 'til he all gets his ass down here to slam this... uh... shit.

[His rant gathers momentum as it continues, then abruptly dies out at the end. He stares down at the "shit" in question, which is splattered all over the table by now.]

That what all happen to you, too, brother?

[ he just looks at gamzee like he's crazy. which he is, so there you go, justified malcontent! his disdain is all over his face and he hates his life. leave the tower to give him a gamzee who doesn't remember that they're supposed to be platonic soul bros. he needs a feelings jam like crazy. ]

When did you last digest your stomach's worst enemy hellfood?

[His face contorts, deep in thought, searching the recesses of his pan for a glint of information that could help answer Karkat's question. Letting out a breath he hadn't been aware of holding, he gave the best answer he could.]

Uhh... shit, well, un-counting the couple tastes I all got before, lucky them motherfuckers didn't shoot back out the chute, uhhh...

[He squints off somewhere past Karkat. Come on, you can do it.]

Been a long fuckin' time, I guess. With the whole spacey rock lab business, ate 'em all up before and a brother ain't had none since. Fuckin' shame.

[He perks up!]

But the magic abduct-y people gone and packed 'em all up in the crazy box thing for me! We should all get our wicked trek on back there! We could split one or five and just kick the shit, best friend! Honk!

[ HAHAHAH yeah like he's putting one of those anywhere near his mouth. ever.

he rests his elbows on the table, presses his hands to his face and pretends he doesn't care at all because holy shit he'd almost forgotten what gamzee was like when he was high off his ass. ]

How many do you have?

[Scrunches his face again - stop making him use his brain.]

Auhh... didn't much get all spendin' time to count them motherfuckers. ...S..e...ven?

[The obvious confidence behind that answer was staggering.]

[ mental mindmap. seven probably isn't a lot; not that karkat knows how long it takes to eat one of those festering dishes of pure poison, but seven can't possibly last forever. that means that there is a high chance of gamzee going shithive once he goes sober, provided the catalyst that fucked him up in the veil still fucks him up here. he needs to keep gamzee away from the thing that ruined his stupid stupid dumb religion, or he needs to find someone willing to let a juggalo stick his face into a recuperacoon. provided those things still even exist.

vaguely he wonders if he could request them on the menu, then decides an entire tower of gamzees is a fucking stupid idea. ]

Tell me when you only have one left. Promise me that or I'll rip off your horns and cram them down your windchute to rot in that digestive sack of yours along with all the other shit you eat that you shouldn't due to being fucking stupid. Deal?

[What a weird thing to have to promise. Why did he want to know when there was only one left? Did he want one for himself? He could have just asked; he could have as many as he wanted right now! But, Gamzee had no interest in pondering it any further, because he had no intention of saying no to begin with.]

Hahaha, can do, motherfucker! Ain't gotta be goin' and crammin' no horns down no chutes 'cause there be a pie fuckin' waiting for you all special what's when that time up and comes the fuck on. Promise!

So, hey, listen, bro! You all got any more questions to ask on a motherfucker, or you gonna get at kickin' your own fuckin' noise at me now? What your bad self been up to, man?

[ oh gamzee you don't know the half of it... ]

My life pretty much went down the excrement bowl the second I got here. You don't even want to know.

[He frowns, becoming lost for a moment. But, this was supposed to be a party! Leave it to Karkat to have something to complain about at a party, for real! He had to stifle a laugh at that thought, returning his droopy gaze from the ceiling to his bro.]

Awww, fuck yes I do, best friend! Drop that shit all out on a motherfucker!

[He patted his hands against the table, evidently indicating where Karkat should "drop that shit".]

[ flattest look ever. sudden urge to punch gamzee in the face. ]

Alright, you want to know? I lost the person who I thought was my matesprit to the guy I thought was my kismesis, but it turns out he didn't really hate me, he just wanted to kill me. I re-met my best friend who I'd watched die not even an hour beforehand, and it turns out he's probably in a kismesissitude with a guy I can't stand in the serious, platonic way you do when someone kills your friends because he's a douche. No, hey, here's the real kicker! This gutterblood here has to tiptoe around because it turns out the fucking Empress is here. And to make shit even better, I'm not the only shitblood here! But I'm the only one with common sense enough not to flaunt it around, because hey, dying doesn't sound so flash. Wait, there's more. Then, to top it all off, the guy who was my moirail doesn't remember shit about anything and in all seriousness is probably going to go flying off the deep end because I don't know if I can stop him before it happens.

[You can practically see his eyes spinning around and around like slots on a slot machine. So much to process, Jesus. But he's trying to make sense of it all because, hey, that's what bros were fucking for. And this seemed more like Serious Karkat Shit than Slightly Sensationalized Karkat Shit, so he'll do his best to wade his busted up pan through the catastrophic infodump.]

Whoa, holy shit, uhh.

[Staring at him, wrenching those brain-gears together.]

[Ugh, he can't do it. Slightly miffed at himself, actually. He sucks his teeth, giving a sheepish frown.]

Hold the fuck up, brother. Help a motherfucker help another motherfucker out and be switchin' all that noise down to a fuckin' tempo what's bein' a little slower, maybe.

[ this is why he hates the slime. even though it stops murders and shit from happening, it's hard to talk to someone who can't process what you're trying to say. part of him keeps trying to remind himself that this isn't his moirail and this is not a feelings jam, so there are some things he should probably keep to himself, but the other part of him desperately needs someone to know how much his life sucks.

so he'll repeat himself, counting on his fingers at each point he makes. ]

Terezi is dating a cerulean-blooded Karkat from an alternate universe because past Karkat couldn't get his shit in order. This alternate Karkat met me in the hallway yesterday, got his black court on, then tried to kill me. I watched Sollux kill himself in the Veil, only to show up here and realize that not only does he not remember shit about it, he's also apparently in a black relationship with Eridan, who killed two of my good friends. The Empress is also here, and I'm not exactly a stunning example of our species; she's aware of us mutant bloods, because there are two others like me running around wearing candy fucking red.

[ conveniently leaves out the gamzee stuff, because that's a whole lot of confusing this conversation probably doesn't need. ]

[Okay, he was determined to pay attention this time. Mostly. His stare bobbed from Karkat's eyes, to his mouth, to his counting fingers in repeated succession, and he drew his hands back from the center of the table to fold limply in front of him. If he could just remember them all, he could start to pick through them. He'd always been readily available to help anyone with a slew of problems, so he'd take as much time as they needed to sort this shit out.]

Terezi... Wait, you two got at havin' like, some sort of... thing kickin' all around there what's before, right?

But... now she all up in some other best friend's wicked red business? One that got all to be gettin' the magical motherfuckin' color shit switched all upside-out on him?

And... uh... uhh, then what all was happening, again?

[ he wonders how quickly smashing your face against the desk could kill you and briefly entertains ideas of finding out. then he remembers it isn't gamzee's fault that his brain holds as much information as a sponge full of bullet holes and deigns for just placing his hands flat against the surface of the table, clicking with the sharps of his nails. ]

Alright, listen, none of that really matters. Just remember what I told you about your hellfood supply, right? Make sure you tell me or I'll wring your windchute with my bare hands and hang it out for all to marvel at.

[Chuckling heartily at that rather colorful threat, his contemplative expression quickly shifts to a more natural grin. He was pretty sure that was something he could remember to do. He did promise, after all. Wouldn't be cool to all go back on his motherfucking word, now, would it?]

You fuckin' got it, best friend! Ain't gotta be wringin' no windchutes - which, I'm pretty motherfuckin' sure were gonna all be busy havin' my fuckin' horns all shoved up in 'em first, anyway - 'cause you'll be all knowing of that shit before any other motherfucker!

[The clack-clack of Karkat's nails draws his attention downwards, and he slides his hands forward to poke at those nails with his own overgrown ones.]

Though, got me all fuckin' sorts of gettin' the wicked curiosity on as to why my best bro be wantin' to take and down a tinful of snot after he be so motherfuckin' adamant in all denying that shit what's every time before?

[ fuck, he doesn't keep a track of his insults. ]

I'm not going to eat one you neanderthrashing fucksponge. Not only are they poisonous, they also look like the inside of a stomach. I need to know when you're running low so I know how long I've got to get you some more.

[ and now they're playing footsie with their fingers; karkat taps on each tip of gamzee's gross claws with the tips of his own. ]

[Despite being in a particularly sour mood, Karkat was still reciprocating his childish prodding. Slightly unexpected, but definitely not disappointing! At least this response was one that wouldn't result in throbby, purple fingers. The tiny sensations felt so strange, he couldn't help but laugh.]

Sure, sure, best friend! Man, how many times you all gonna make me get my oath on at you? Hahaha.

[Cocking his head slightly.]

Oh. ...They got more here?

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001 ♑ [first honk]

i was busy shut up / cafeteria

hhhhh touches your face

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