An Outfit Changed, An Identity Reclaimed.

[mamadonna]

Characters: The Dolorosa and YOU!
Setting: 15th floor, the workshop
Format: Basically whatever, if you want to do chocolate things drop a note here!
Summary: Dolorosa is working with some textiles when she gets interrupted?
Warnings: Possible violence and chocolate plot business.

[ Dolorosa had been working on this dress for a couple weeks now, collecting what scraps she could that fit her needs, but they weren't always easy to come by. It was the veiled cape that had been the most difficult, but she'd finally found the right material, and had gotten the dye to properly take.

It was almost finished, and soon she would't have to continue wearing this silly jumpsuit any longer. It only needed one last addition: her sign. It had been sweeps since she'd last worn it, or even been allowed to see it, but she ever forgot its shape, and so making the thread follow her whims until it took form was accomplished without mistake, and only the slightest pause.

It was a form of therapy, this dress. A reclamation of her identity. Within the hour, once properly garbed, she would once again be fully herself. ]

Comments

[hystericull]

[He crept closer, sticking his neck out until he could see her thread the needle. How'd she get the tiny string through the hole like that? If he'd had tried that shit, it would have taken him sweeps. He smiled excitedly as she started to fix the tear, now watching her slip the needle between the fabric and through her fingers in a careful, fluid motion. Without glancing up from watching her, he chirps happily:]

Sopor pie, motherfucker! Bake it all up my fuckin' self!

[mamadonna]

[ Her threading suddenly stops. She looks up at him as if his nose had just dropped off his face and danced away into the night. ]

You cannot possibly be making an authentic statement. There is no sustenance to be gained from such an ingestion!

[hystericull]

[He glances up when she halts, confused for a moment. The look she gives him catches him off guard, and he breaks into a laugh.]

Shit fuckin' yeah I be spewin' the motherfucking truth at you, yo! Hahaha!

Ain't all no truth in that, my wicked jade sister. Pies be more than a motherfucker ever's to be all in need of. Fill this brother all up with the miracles, they fuckin' do! We gotta be all to get at passin' the mystical snot sometime, for real. Be dope as the shit's tits, it motherfuckin' would.

[He offered a smile, resting an elbow on his knee and his chin in his hand.]

[mamadonna]

[ She has no idea what any of that even means. ]

Er. Given the highly evident lack of dietary nutrition you've been receiving, I highly doubt that is the case! Your continued survival would make actual consumption of genuine food vital, and avoiding such for so poor a substitute simply cannot continue.

Moreover, I would really appreciate if you would be more mindful of the language you employ. Both in its excessive vulgarity and its extreme lack of clarity!

god she's so fabulous

[hystericull]

[He shrugged, flopping his hands against his legs in defeat.]

If you all fuckin' to be saying so, sister. Ain't gonna all say this motherfucker's got any idea of what all he be doin' anyway. Dunno what all else I'm gonna be to get at eating, though.

[Her scolding causes him to shrink back, staring at his untied shoes sheepishly.]

Oh, uh... sorry. I'll try to all be fuckin' better 'bout that shit.


...Er, sorry.

she just needs all these babies to be taken care of

[mamadonna]

[ He wasn't angry at her insolence. This was curious, even Signless gave her more trouble as a child. She almost felt a little guilty. ]

They have a meager selection in the cafeteria, though there is one more involved menu at the restaurant, should you be willing to fulfill their expenses.

[ She took her needle back up and continued her work. ] I would be willing to escort you to either, should you be willing to indulge the occasion.

no worries dolorosa he's a big boy he can take care of himself

[hystericull]

[Eugh, the cafeteria. Strange memories and varying emotions had been connected to that place since he'd arrived. Well, maybe the good feelings associated with it could tip the scales soon enough. He practically hopped in place at her nonchalant offer, an (almost unbelieving) grin streaking across his face.]

Hahaha, fuckin' really!? [A pause, putting a hand to his mouth.] I mean, uh, really!? You'd all want to kick the wicked shit with a brother after you be done with the fuckin' stitchy obligations you all got toward him?

like she would ever believe that no matter how true

[mamadonna]

[ She sighs. He's apparently trying with the language, at least, but it's so ingrained a habit that she'll need to put more work into weaning him off of it.

She's dealt with worse. ]

I feel it would only be a continuance of the matters which would inspire such intervention. It's necessary to see to it that you are fed, therefore I will personally fill the supervisory role.

hey he's still alive that counts for... something... maybe

[hystericull]

[He is visibly pleased. Someone wants to hang out with him yeah!]

Motherfuck yeah! That'd be the dopest noise what's happening at a brother all goddamn day, would fuckin' be! 'Sides gettin' this shit all fixed, I motherfuckin' guess.

[Okay the language was back to normal. Come on, you can't expect him to remember to keep a lid on it for long. He peers over to inspect her progress in excitement... then pauses, suddenly struck with a thought. His mouth sets curiously, not exactly a pleasant expression, but nothing ominous, either. He tilts his head up slightly to meet her eyes.]

Don't mean to come all off like I got my fuckin' bulge in a twist or nothing. But, uh... what got a sister all fuckin' wanting to stick her nose up in this motherfucker's business like you be such all to doin' right the fuck now?

[Adults were supposed to be frightening and bloodthirsty. Gamzee was dumb, but he wasn't completely oblivious - especially after his first encounter with one. To be fair, it wasn't entirely her docile nature that was disconcerting. It was the fact that she had such an interest in his well-being. No one was ever really keen on giving him the time of fucking day, so what the fuck gives!?]

it counts in that it's gotten him far enough to be steered differently afasc

[mamadonna]

[ she wags her finger at him, this time not in so harsh a chiding as a gentle reminder ] Now, now, do mind your language.

In truth, while it may be considered aberrant behavior by our compatriots, I would find any treatment in your direction which is anything less than compassionate to be unconscionable! You are not the first young troll to suffer my kindness, and while I have any capability within me to continue it, I would not have you be the last, either.

Tell me, child, what is your name?

[hystericull]

[Oh, it actually felt better to know he wasn't being singled out as a recipient of her selflessness. The fact that every troll she encountered (he thought) could be treated with such care just seemed to endear her to him more. He had never quite experienced a generosity like this before. Or, at all, really.

He winces at her reminder (again) about the profanity.]

Sooooorry...

[But, he perks back up when she asks his name, extending a hand eagerly for an introductory shake.]

I'm Gamzee, mo- er, uh, ma'am! [MA'AM DID HE REALLY JUST SAY MA'AM ALERT THE FUCKING PRESS WHO IS THIS CHILD.] What you all at to be called, then?

[mamadonna]

[ She takes his hand with a smile, though a little overwhelmed by the eagerness with which he shakes hers. ]

I'm charmed to have made your acquaintance, Gamzee. I am myself known as The Dolorosa.

[hystericull]

[He's starting to notice a pattern, here. He takes his hand back eventually, fidgeting with the hem of his baggy pants.]

Any of you big mo-- dudes be having a name like what's we little peeps be to having? Or you all go around with like, other shit to be called?

[mamadonna]

[ She turns back to her sewing as she explains. ]

At one point, when we were nearer your age. Well, in most cases of which I have some awareness, at least.

Eventually, these names are shed like unto a chrysalis, as the assumption of such a title marks one's proper maturity. Though they don't entirely override the need for names, when those should arise between your close acquaintances, or through reputation.

PUNTS BACKTAG AND WEEPS IN APOLOGY

[hystericull]

Whoaa...

[He considers this, drawing his knees up to his chest and putting a finger to his lip.]

You all get to, like, be making up the shit your fuckin' self?

CLUTCHES TO CHEST AND HUGS FOREVER

[mamadonna]

Not exactly.

[ She continues threading his shirt, pondering how exactly to phrase this. ]

The title which you inherit will be appropriate to your station and history, and, in some cases, is said to be indicative of your further destiny.

CURLS UP IN METAPHORICAL BOSOM

[hystericull]

Oh...

[He looks somewhat disappointed at this, his chances of becoming The Polka-Dotted Patriarch seeming to slip farther and farther away. This train of depressing thought didn't last long, however, and he was back to being upbeat.]

Hey! It's all like, gettin' all to motherfucking be back together and shit!

[In his excitement, he reaches over to grab the garment from her hands mid-stitch, holding it up in front of his face and studying the work-in-progress. It certainly was a rude action, but he hadn't intended it to be.]

the most metaphorical yes

[mamadonna]

[ She huffs in frustration and frowns at him. ]

Gamzee, I wasn't finished with that!

[hystericull]

[Oh. He lowers the shirt sheepishly, peeking two horns, a mass of hair, and then slowwwly, two scolded-looking eyes out from behind the collar.]

Sorryyyy...

[He dropped the shirt back in front of her, still looking slightly anxious and apologetic, shoving his hands down by his tangled shins to ensure they didn't cause any more trouble.]

[mamadonna]

[ She digs out the needle from the pile and lays it flat again, returning to her work. ]

It's alright, but you really must be more patient with it!

[hystericull]

[Gamzee nodded enthusiastically, shifting so he was sprawled out on the table now, laying on his stomach and resting his chin in his hands.]

A brother can like, definitely all to be doing the shit what's that way. More patience in this motherfucker than there be stars all up in the motherfucking sky, I think!

[He grins again, kicking his feet absently and bobbing his head while fixating once again on her work.]

[mamadonna]

Good, it shouldn't be too much longer.

[ Tentatively, she reaches up to pat him on the head. Drawing her hand back, she rubs her fingers together, cringing at the oily residue that results. ]

Well, we'll have to do something about that.

[hystericull]

[The pat on his head yields a surprised, yet contented noise from that polluted mouth of his. Her second comment, however, only receives a quite baffled stare.]

Uh... about fuckin' what, now?

[Was there... something wrong with his shirt...? He peered down at it. Gamzee didn't know much about this sort of thing, but it looked like it was coming along fine? He glanced back up at the Dolorosa, searching for some sort of explanation in her expression.]

[mamadonna]

[ She folds her hands on top of the shirt and gives him a knowing smile. ]

When exactly was it that your hair was last submitted to a proper cleansing?

[hystericull]

Huh!?

[He's caught off-guard for a second, expecting her concern to be with her work and not the current state of cleanliness that his mess of tangles had found itself in.]

[Shortly after his surprise, however, he begins to laugh heartily, reaching up to- All right, nevermind. He's not putting his hands anywhere near the black death-trap. When fingers entered that forbidden zone, they never returned the same.]

Hahaha, uhhh... ain't fuckin' to be all getting my motherfucking recall on, yo. Shit ain't too wicked keen on ablutions, I fucking think.