gAmZeE MaKaRa ♑ terminallyCapricious (
hystericull) wrote in
towerofanimus2012-02-14 11:37 pm
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.]
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.]

oh man this is beautiful
Oh but it's not. So his arms are just gonna land at his side then, okay.]
I didn't... I didn't know you were wearing paint, Gamzee!
[He just thought that was your face!!]
wow did i use the word "sudden" enough in that last post y'think
Ain't never go without it, li'l bro! Feels strange as a motherfucker to all not be havin' this shit on here, for fuckin' sure. So you could all get it up in your pan that this be what's my actual mug be like, if that's a thing that you'd be fuckin' wanting to get at thinkin'.
[Although his face was a mess, now. He'd have to fix it sooner or later. He didn't care a bit about that right now, though!]
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[Gamzee's honking is making Link laugh too, and he can't stop, either. It's just too funny!
He's starting to get weirdly sleepy though. :c]
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Don't get your worry on, motherfucker, I got you.
[He rolled and bobbed off of the bed, humming lazy and happily, going around the room and... tidying up!?!?!? Okay that was never a concern of his what was he really doing?
Well, he was gathering all of the horns that had fallen out of his trunk, and making them into a little pile next to the bed. There wasn't enough room in the trunk to fit all of his horns, so the pile would be too small for him, but the perfect size for his little buddy!
He lifted Link up and dropped him into the pile with a serenade of honks. There you go, motherfucker! Nice and comfy.]
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It's not really that comfortable, but hell if he notices.
So don't mind if he just... casually passes out on top of it as he watches the room swirl. Today is a weird day but he's not getting his worry on about that at all.]
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