007 ♑ [seventh honk]

[hystericull]

Characters: [OU] Gamzee Makara and you.
Setting: Floor 11
Format: Starting with action, but I'll match.
Summary: After going fucking nuts and slaughtering a few things, Gamzee has been pretty good about keeping himself out of trouble. With an ankle almost back to normal, he's checking out the wicked eleventh floor and trying to forget that his life sucks while simultaneously freezing his ass off.
Warnings: If the summary wasn't clue enough, profanity. Also other things idk it's Gamzee, come on.



[It was in these kinds of moments that Gamzee had been particularly grateful for his new duds. Kanaya, before departing the Tower, had presented him with a very generous new wardrobe - one better suited for the rapidly falling temperatures.]

[For being in the Tower for a length of time fast approaching nine months, Gamzee hadn't a single change of clothes up until now. As horrifying and possibly disgusting as it was, he still hadn't the mind to change out of them. Rather, he threw the jacket, hat and scarf on right over his marred shirt and dirty hair. Hygiene really wasn't at the top of his list of priorities.]

[What was at the top of that list, however, was inspecting the spray of the water that spilled from the ceiling of this level, and the many rainbows that bent and danced around him as a result. With a limp that refused to abandon his right foot after weeks and weeks of healing its broken ankle, the boy watched with bright, droopy eyes the colorful bands that spanned before them. An awed grin was in its early stages at the corners of his lips, dimpling his now-purple cheeks and leaving him with a slightly slack-jawed look of amusement that made it possible for a few puffs of visible breath to escape.]

Comments

[hystericull]

Whoaaa, whoa, motherfuckin' whoa, little joke-veined wonderblood.

[The laughing continued, although it had lost a lot of gusto, trailing off until it finally died completely out.]

Ain't gotta get all get to havin' motherfuckin' them defenses all flyin' every all which fuckin' way at a motherfucker, shit. Fuckin' get your wake on up in the not-right side all of the motherfucking human rest platform this evening?

[He chuckled again, standing on his tiptoes and trying again to get a clearer glimpse of what she was doing.]

[gloomyapoplectic]

[What the fuck kind of nickname is that supposed to be? Her mutant swill is anything but a wonder.

The laugh was enough of a hint -- and something she hoped she was imagining -- but the face confirms it. She'll fly her defenses any fuckin' way she wants when the goddamn clown troll that murdered her is within culling distance!

She fumbles to scramble away from him, not that such is a very successful endeavor.] Stay away from me!

[hystericull]

[Her constant scrambling startles him a little, even after his attempted platonic pacifications. He jumps back a few inches, cocking his head to the side.]

Shit... you still all hung up on fuckin' old ass noise what's been between a bro and sis such is to be like your motherfucking self? That it?

[He clicks his tongue in disapproval, putting on his best, although not his most sincere, pout.]

[gloomyapoplectic]

You killed me!

[A brief enough answer for that unreasonably wordy question. She yanks the cord of the saw, but it's nothing doing. Despite this, she can't help but try a few more times. The frantic pulling is her only distraction from immediately flying off the handle, though the irritation if its malfunction isn't helping much.]

[hystericull]

[He notes her failed attempts with an amused quirk of an eyebrow, lifting his palms skyward in defense.]

Thought you'd fuckin' be over such shit by now.

[gloomyapoplectic]

[When the chainsaw doesn't start after an amount of frenzied tugging, she shoves it aside and does her best to back away and stand at the same time. This has predictable clunky results, though she does manage to get on her feet!] "Over it"?!

[There's a growl sneaking into her voice.] You-! [It's insulting enough that he expects her to be over her own death at his hands, but as the anger creeps up on her, it's at the forefront of her pan that she has something much more important to be angry at him over.]

You killed my moirail!

[hystericull]

[Gamzee was in a pretty good mood. Nah, scratch that. He wasn't in a spectacularly shitty mood. That was good enough to earn Kanaya merely a raised brow for her efforts in standing up. He had half a mind to applaud her achievement, but decided against it.]

[At her exclamation, though, he put a few fingers to his lips in consideration.]

...I did?

[gloomyapoplectic]

[Gamzee's cluelessness throws her off. She's angry, but it's difficult to truly grasp it for use when he's being so weird. He's making her think, which isn't very conductive to the kind of blind rage that she could usually use to claw him to ribbons.]

I saw you do it! Are you really saying you don't remember?

[Is he stupid or something? How can he forget something like that?]

[hystericull]

[Still with his fingers to his lips, Gamzee's gaze trailed downward, to the ground. As if that would magically help him remember. He'd killed a lot of people, man. And his memory wasn't the best out there.]

...Which one's your diamonds again, girl?