420 ♑ [four-hundred twentieth honk]

[hystericull]

Characters: Gamzee and YOU!
Setting: Floors 11 and 22, but he's wandering, so anywhere!
Format: Action is preferred but I'll match.
Summary: OH LOOK AT THE DATE TODAY GUESS WHO'S HAVING A BIG OL' CELEBRATION!? Of course, he knows not why the date is so relevant, but Gamzee has always been fond of those three little numbers. There is pie, and lots of it and whoever happens to interact with him is getting their celebratory zone on, no ifs, ands, or buts.
Warning: STONED CLOWNS AND STONED ANYONE WHO COMES NEAR HIM! And if you don't want your character high as a kite and seeing the most pimpest of motherfucking miracles, that's okay, too. I GUESS!!! Also, Gamzee's vulgar language always.






Floor Eleven

[The wall-less, lake-filled rainbow room. Why had Gamzee not found this floor sooner!? It was abso-fucking-lutely the dopest motherfucking place for any brother to up and all get his chill on. The magnificence of nature at its finest was slightly flawed by the numerous pie tins scattered around this sprawled-out troll. Their neon-green substance varied in completion; some entirely consumed, others half-full (never half-empty!), and other still untouched. Soon enough.

It was hard to tell if Gamzee was sleeping or not. His eyes were open, if only just, staring blithely up at the numerous rainbows crossing over what would be the ceiling of this room (if it had a ceiling), a stupid smile plastered all over his painted face. There were probably copious amounts of drool, as well, but who would dare look close enough to find out?

At some point, sometime, he'd made a flower crown for himself. It hung carelessly from one horn, tumbling over the grass underneath him as he lay down near the lake's edge. This was beautiful. Life was beautiful and perfect and this Tower was full of miracles. All of the people he met were miracles, this floor was a miracle, the oneness of everything in the tower was a miracle. It was all so apparent, now that he'd taken the time out to properly slam a few pies.

He sighed absently, fondly, tipping his head back slightly to marvel at more of the rainbows stretching out above him and lifting slow fingerfuls of slime from the tin of his stomach to his lips. Sometimes he got it in his mouth, sometimes not. That's all right. Things just happened the way they were all meant to happen, no motherfucking sweat about none of that shit.]

Floor Twenty-Two

[If you happen to run into Gamzee in the art gallery, you'll grow very tired of observing him. He seems to be rooted in front of a painting, slopping slime everywhere as he eats it, focused on the subtle intricacies and hidden meanings in each piece that captures his attention. Which happens to be quite a few of them.

The colors in this one, man. The colors. And the swirls. How do they even do that?

His disgusting teeth and gums are clearly visible as he gawks, droopy-eyed and slack-jawed in front of each work of art, not even moving his head when he takes another swallow of pie.]

Anywhere Else

[Got a better idea? Gamzee's meandering around in a sopor stupor all day. Wherever your character happens to be, he's likely to run in to them, pie in hand. Faygo will probably be provided, but don't expect it to come without a price! Just leave your desired setting in the subject line and I'll happily follow suit.]

Comments

[touchofgenius]

[Birkin rather visibly relaxed. Okay, yeah, high as a kite. He was safe.]

Oh yeah, I fuckin' know. [He had no fuckin' idea what Gamzee was talking about.] So... Which painting's your favorite? [Might as well bond with his patron troll while he's up here, make sure he cements himself as a friend and not a culling-target. Hopefully]

[hystericull]

[Gamzee just sort of blinks at him for a long while, studying the intricacies of his face and noting how, this one must be an adult, too. Strange little adult humans hardly grow any bigger than their youth. You can tell an adult from a child not only by the small height difference, but by the folds in their face and the worn look of their skin. Not saying that Birkin looked especially ragged, but it was certainly apparent that he was not a child. Awed, Gamzee reached out with both sticky hands, to plop them on Birkin's face. He could have been mistaken for his blind comrade, the way he was inspecting the man's features with his bony fingers.]

Ain't all no motherfuckin' greater work of art than what's bein' the fuckin' crazy bitches like what you all are.

[touchofgenius]

[Birkin's face froze just before telling Gamzee to not touch his goddamn face before thinking better of it. So instead he stood there, eyes wide, his face slowly turning red, and the side of his nose twitching. He didn't even want to think of why they were sticky. He was just not allowing his brain to focus on that.]

Thanks...? That was a compliment, right?

[hystericull]

[Aww, look at how cute he was getting, all flustered like that. Gamzee hummed as he slowly forgot what he was doing and ended up just sitting there like a weirdo with his hands on Birkin's face.]

Whuh... whoa, oh, uhh... yeahhhh, yeah that all was a the motherfucking goodness I be saying in you, brother.

[He offers another grin, booping Birkin right on the twitchy nose.]

[touchofgenius]

[Squeak! Though he manages to recompose himself pretty quickly.]

Okay, okay, thanks then. Can we maybe, possibly, uh... [uHH,,,] Not touch my face anymore?