Gamzee Makara (AU) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thereisnopie) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2012-08-28 04:00 pm
thereisnopie) wrote in towerofanimus2012-08-28 04:00 pm
Entry tags:
pull out the first cord
Characters: Gamzee and YOU.
Setting: Over several floors. You can pick where you run into him.
Format: Starting in prose. Will match anything.
Summary: Gamzee wanders, believing he's attached to the machine again.
Warnings: Typical troll pottymouth + bonus. Also most of my icons are kinda cruddy placeholders right now.
It feels real enough. He'll give it that. But then, it had always felt real to him. There were times he wondered if he'd ever actually been removed from the program at all. Perhaps they'd just let him feel like he had while still keeping him securely under their control.
This was a little silly, though. Even for them.
Gamzee had found his clothes, changing into them gratefully as that tight white outfit just wouldn't fly. He even wore the straight jacket, buckles hanging loose and long sleeves falling past his hands as his arms hung at his sides. In a way, he likes what it stands for. And here even that is a small comfort.
Cal's arms are looped around his neck, tied in a simple knot so they stay in place, and the doll hangs down his back. His silent partner. He takes everything in as he quietly walks the halls. What's left of the sedatives from the ward make him appear a bit dazed, but they'll wear off soon enough.
Setting: Over several floors. You can pick where you run into him.
Format: Starting in prose. Will match anything.
Summary: Gamzee wanders, believing he's attached to the machine again.
Warnings: Typical troll pottymouth + bonus. Also most of my icons are kinda cruddy placeholders right now.
It feels real enough. He'll give it that. But then, it had always felt real to him. There were times he wondered if he'd ever actually been removed from the program at all. Perhaps they'd just let him feel like he had while still keeping him securely under their control.
This was a little silly, though. Even for them.
Gamzee had found his clothes, changing into them gratefully as that tight white outfit just wouldn't fly. He even wore the straight jacket, buckles hanging loose and long sleeves falling past his hands as his arms hung at his sides. In a way, he likes what it stands for. And here even that is a small comfort.
Cal's arms are looped around his neck, tied in a simple knot so they stay in place, and the doll hangs down his back. His silent partner. He takes everything in as he quietly walks the halls. What's left of the sedatives from the ward make him appear a bit dazed, but they'll wear off soon enough.
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"So change it up. Can't all have a band with no motherfuckin' musicians."
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After all, it isn't difficult to bring in new musicians. Bring down the equipment and you're free to play whatever you want.
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"Daaamn, girl. Gettin' all motherfuckin' drastic on me."
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"Nobody notices you if you don't go big."
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"You know. If you were real, I might like you too."
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"Oh, don't fucking get into the philosophical timeline shit on me now. We were having such a nice conversation."
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"Ain't nothin' to be philosophizing on. I just know where the truth of the matter's at."
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It's a simple fact, really. The infinitely branching timelines were so diverse that even truths didn't always carry over into the next world that the Tower threw into their midst.
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"Sounds like a mother fucking impasse."
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"Good thing I don't actually give a fuck or we'd be in some deep shit."
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Real or not, he supposes he can deal with this Strider.
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That was usually how all her acquaintanceships went, after all. It was a little soothing in its predictability.
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No sense in talking in circles with programmed individuals.