008 ♑ [eighth honk]

[hystericull]

Characters: [OU] Gamzee and you!
Setting: Laundry room.
Format: Action.
Summary: After having his ass forcefully dragged to the ablution chamber by his moirail for a scrub-down (and then subsequently jumping on to a pile of rifles and blowing himself to bits, negating all efforts anyway), Gamzee is feeling a little bit like a burden, and decides to do his own laundry for once. It would certainly help if he knew how.
Warnings: Gamzee.





[This was certainly somewhere Gamzee had never been.]

[Laundry was certainly something he had never, ever done or entertained the thought of doing.]

[He was now, however, on the third washing machine in (seeing as the first had exploded in thick, swirling plumes of dark smoke and bubbles - presumably as a result of using two bottles of detergent, and the second one had proceeded to overflow, and then overflow some more after he punched and dented its cover in a hissy fit), trying to decipher the knobs and dials so he could at least attempt to get the correct settings for his new winter jacket. He was a little worse for wear, by now. The washing machines liked to spew scalding water whenever possible, and it had doused him more than once. His hands were soapy and bright purple from being burnt as he reached for the knob on the third machine.]

[Dying had sort of solved his hygeine problem. He stood there now looking as clean as ever - face paint carefully applied like it had been when he'd first arrived, hair its natural jet black again, ratted and tangled in a mess of curls. The clothes on his back were also reverted, so they really didn't need any washing (well, they certainly did seeing as he came from being stuck on a meteor for God knows how long, but they were infinitely cleaner than they had been just yesterday).]

[A steaming pie sat smack dab in the middle of the cover to the current, functioning machine he was attempting to use. He eyed it warily. Breakfast sounded much better than trying to figure this shit out further, as it was only proving to make him more frustrated. He didn't want to punch this one to bits like its brethren and have to move on to a fourth. Maybe a snack break wasn't such a bad idea?]

[Detergent bottles were everywhere. He'd used two on the first machine, the rest of a half-empty one on the second, and accidentally dumped another full one all over the floor (and himself). Between the clouds of smoke, he waded through the syrupy liquid to seek out another bottle for his third attempt at washing this damn thing.]

[This would be a lot easier if he would just ask for help. But, he couldn't. After the whole shower thing, he'd been feeling much like an unintelligent, useless burden. Even though he hadn't really ever been taught how to use one of these things (or even that one should wash their clothes on a regular basis), he figured it would have been pretty easy to teach himself. Evidently not.]

[Now, where was that other detergent bottle?]

Comments

[geometry]

[Merely approaching the laundry room was enough to tell Equius that someone in there had ruined things to a massive extent. Internally, he groaned; people breaking the washing machine was not an uncommon occurrence, but it was one he could usually fix in no time at all. Judging from the hideous smell coming out of that room, though (a combination of detergent, sweat, and industrial-grade smoke), this was a repair job the likes of which had never been seen. By the time he was in front of the door, Equius was seriously considering not even going in there at all and running to fetch Darkleer instead; there was no way he could undo all of that in just a few hours!]

[Opening the door confirmed his suspicions -- oh, did it ever. Empty or semi-full bottles were everywhere, dripping detergent and bleach onto the floor. (Wasteful.) At least one of the machines was completely obscured from view. (Probably broken.) There's a whole, hideous pile of dirty clothes just sitting on the ground, probably left by the stupid drones who couldn't handle the fact that someone had tampered with their machinery and the troll boy hadn't come to undo it yet. And the smell was even worse, so much that he staggered from the sheer power of it... and after that, he put a hand to his mouth and let out a displeased, long-suffering, but slow and patient breath. It was all he could do to not stomp in there and scream at whichever dipshit decided to play with the things they didn't understand.]

Are you kidding me? What the hell happened here...?

[The question was directed to no one in particular; Gamzee blended in pretty nicely with the hellish surroundings, and Equius was kind of too busy staring at the miserable state of his laundry room to notice a single troll dressed in black with his back to everything else in the room.]

[hystericull]

[Everything was going just fine, until he got a little company.]

[Right before Equius had spoken, Gamzee had decided to take a moment to chill - grab his pie, sit down, slurp away all of the pent-up frustration from having to deal with these motherfucking haywire wardrobe ablution machines. But before that could even happen, his errands were interrupted by a voice which he could only attribute to two Sagittarians. And he could bet his bottom-ass fucking boondollar that it was not the more entertaining of the two archers. He supposed, the two were both entertaining in their own separate ways - he'd never actually gotten to brutally murder his own Equius, so there was a point in the yellowblood's favor. There wasn't a lot of time to expand upon this train of thought, however, because the realization that he was not alone in here made Gamzee jump abruptly, dropping the jacket he was holding into the Great Soap Lake, and sending the tin of slime clattering to the floor, spilling its contents over the machines, and Gamzee's shirt and pants WHY CAN HE ONLY STAY CLEAN FOR A FEW MINUTES AT A TIME.]

[Well, no time to take that chill pill he so desperately needed. Equius really did manage to pick the worst times. If Gamzee were actually intent on harming the boy today, he wouldn't have spoken at all, and instead would have tried to use the smoke to his advantage, remaining unseen. Gory dismemberment, however, was surprisingly not as high today on his list of priorities as pitching a fit was, apparently.]

I ain't got motherfuckin' time for your shit!!

[Unable to see the intruder through the smoke, Gamzee settled for shouting aimlessly at wherever Equius may have been, grinding his fangs and scowling at the slime-covered washing machine before him.]

[geometry]

[Implying that anything can ever go right when Gamzee Makara and Equius Zahhak are around.]

[The sudden and very uncoordinated movement from the corner made Equius turn quickly in that direction, and as he did, he picked up on a smell he hadn’t noticed before -- the unmistakable reek of sopor slime. And not the kind that had just been spilled on a shirt or something. This was a gallon or more of sopor slime, strewn around in various places. As the smoke cleared and he moved slowly closer, he could see where the slime had once been kept; pie tins sat everywhere, upturned or upright, little swipes of sopor slime sitting in there like someone had stuck in their fingers and slid them through.]

[He really wasn’t surprised. Of all the people in the tower, he could easily see Gamzee making all this mess.]

[Equius probably should have been more horrified than he actually was. He should have been turning tail and sprinting for the exit, actually making good on that idea of fetching Darkleer to put this bugger out of Equius’ way. But he didn’t really feel like doing that right now, nor did he want to ask a favor of Darkleer, who he suspected kind of thought him a coward anyway. Eridan wouldn’t shoot Gamzee, of course. And of course, he’d been doing this laundry for an hour now, so he didn’t even know where anyone was. The only option was to either flee and let Gamzee’s predatory instincts take over again (can he resist fleeing prey? Even sopored up, probably not), or stay and hope that somehow he can defuse the situation another way. Which was never going to happen. But if he had a choice of dying in here or dying out where anyone can see him, he’s going to choose here. It’s already a mess anyway, his blood will just be cleaned up with everything else.]

Goddammit, Gamzee... [That was said under his breath, though it sounded more like a sigh than the well-hidden anger it actually was.] ...Look, I’m not here for you either. I need to clean this room up and fix the machines. That’s all.

[hystericull]

Mother fucking fix them!?

[They were fucking BROKEN TO BEGIN WITH!? Covered in slime, having spent too long trying to work this shit so he could just do a chore he detested anyway, only to find out that the fucking things hadn't been in working order the whole time just pissed him the fuck off!]

[CRACKKK.]

[The plastic cover of the settings display shattered so easily under the force of Gamzee's already-bloody knuckles. The metal border was a different story, however, and scraped another strip of grey flesh off of the back of his hand. Of course, the machines had been in flawless order and condition upon his arrival - Gamzee's frustration was completely brought on by his own incompetence and misinterpretation of Equius' words.]

That all why these bitches don't even get up to mother fucking washing like they be all fuckin' supposed to!?

[chronomancer]

[Eridan takes a moment just to... stare. He was still unbearably cranky about his unscheduled demise, courtesy of Gamzee being Gamzee, but he'd managed to chill out a little in the meantime.

And Gamzee looked frankly miserable, which was a state of affairs Eridan was not happy with unless he was the one actively causing it. He sighed and walked further into the room, wrinkling his nose at the smell.]

I think the smoke means you win.

[hystericull]

[Oh, fuck. Not this. Not now.]

[Gamzee scrunched his nose as well, though for different reasons entirely. He wondered, briefly, how long it would take to cram this pie (tin and all) into his mouth, swallow and digest it, before Eridan would get to him. It would make this meeting infinitely more bearable.]

[But, no. He could feel the jadeblood at his side, even though Gamzee refused to make eye contact.]

Go away, fucker.

[chronomancer]

[Eridan snorted.]

Make me.

[hystericull]

[If he could rub his temples without getting soap all over them from his hands, and if it wouldn't ruin his finally-flawless paint job, he would have. Instead, he held a soggy fist out in front of Eridan's face, unmoving.]

Don't fuckin' make me motherfuckin' make you.

[puppy_lancer]

[Lancer had gotten more than a little lost looking for the Janitors' meeting place. Hell, it said all of dormitory level, didn't it? From the looks of it, he hadn't found the meeting place, but he did find a place that needed cleaning.]

Did...you make that mess all by yourself?

[And looking at those machines, it's quite clear that a janitor isn't the only thing needed. A mechanic would probably have to be called in as well.]

[hystericull]

[Oh, God. Why now? Sure, other people probably used these machines all the time! But, why did someone with a voice he definitely did not recognize, have to use it at this precise moment in time!?]

[He needed that pie. He needed that pie so badly or else he was going to put this poor soul through the machine himself. And it wouldn't be the delicate cycle.]

[Gamzee decided this was as good a time as any for that snack break. He snatched the tin of green, radioactive slime from the top of the currently-functioning machine, letting his filthy jacket drop to the floor and whirling around to try and peer through the smoke at his visitor.]

Motherfuckers up in this bitch ain't being all too fuckin' keen on makin' their asses useful for a brother.

[puppy_lancer]

Well, if you fucking waited for someone else to come along and then asked them for help, I'm sure you wouldn't have broken the machines.

[The smoke was stinging Lancer's eyes and nose, but since he was a Servant, he could still see the rough outlines of the guilty party and the strange color of the item in his hand. He makes a face. Is that some sort of Tower detergent?]

[pushedaround]

[ To be honest, he didn't know whether he should be shocked in regard to the mess, or to seeing Gamzee doing laundry of all people. ]

Hey, bro! Do you, uh, need any help?

[ He stepped in, folding his spare shirt and pants over one of the machines that survived Gamzee's experimentation. Tavros made an uncomfortable face and wrinkled his nose, trying to breathe throughout the disgusting stench as he turned to face his friend.

Once the smoke cleared out, Tavros found himself staring at the highblood's head, specifically his hair. When did he- ]

... Oh.

[hystericull]

[Gamzee's back went rigid at the first sound of that voice. The joints in his fingers and legs froze up and refused to listen to any commands his lame thinkpan had to offer them. Absently, he tried to conjure up a list of all the times he's failed miserably in the "impressing Tavros" department, realized that he couldn't count that high, and just decided to add this moment to the rest of them, regardless of immeasurable quantity.]

I--

[He felt the bloodstained, soiled jacket between his fingers. It was what he'd come here to wash. Somehow, standing in the midst of your own incompetence while clutching your dirty laundry was not the first thing he envisioned when he thought of presenting oneself as a suitable candidate for a red quadrant. WHY DID HE KEEP THINKING ABOUT THIS, FOR FUCK'S SAKE!?]

[Calm down, eat the pie in front of your face. Don't freak out any more than you already have on these poor machines.]

[Gamzee cleared his throat, trying to rest his hand on the washing machine in front of him to look relaxed. He was still holding his jacket. It only ended up looking awkward.]

Hi.

[pushedaround]

[ Tavros didn't know if he should say anything about the whole 'Gamzee had probably died' part. I mean- it's probably unwise if they discussed it, right? It still sucked, but Gamzee is here now and he seemed to be doing well. So, maybe he should ignore it?

Yeah, let's just focus on the happy thoughts for now! ]

Hi.

[ Okay, Gamzee's lack of his usual enthusiasm is a little concerning, and his discomfort is suddenly contagious. The lowblood seemed to be lost for words, and when he couldn't come up with something decent, he figured he should simply repeat his earlier question. Smooth. ]

Do you ... need any help with your laundry? Maybe?

[floreatnoctem]

Goodness.

['Mess' is an understatement for what she sees as she arrives with her spare dress and accessories to wash, peering between him and the smoking and/or dented machines slowly. Part of her wants to simply turn on her heel and walk away from this disaster until it's fixed, somehow, by those in charge of the tower. The other part reminds her that she's got to do her laundry now before she runs out of things to wear. Even being a street urchin, Chidori is as meticulous as can be about her hygiene- and the state of her clothing especially.

So she has to do this now, and it seems as if the only way she might manage with relative quickness is to help the troll boy out and get him on his way as quickly as possible. With, perhaps, as little additional damage as possible.]

I will presume washers and dryers are somehow unfamiliar, and offer to help, if you'd like.

[Because what other reason could he have for not knowing how to manage washing his clothes?]

Or would you rather continue at it yourself?

[hystericull]

[Gamzee is obviously not in the right state for social interaction - he sucks at his teeth in irritation, averting his gaze from Chidori and flexing the grip on the collar of the jacket in his hand.]

I can do this shit for my motherfuckin' own!

[He was self-reliant. For fuck's sake, he managed to raise himself, why the fuck did he have to suddenly learn all these stupid chores and habits he obviously had never needed before to survive!? It was bullshit, was what it was.]

[floreatnoctem]

Can you really?

[Someone with more sense- or perhaps a better sense of fear or self-preservation- would not have pressed the issue. Chidori, unfortunately, wasn't much for self-preservation.]

Well, in that case- if you could hurry?

[wolfbat_captain]

[ He wasn't expecting to be hit in the face with the smell of detergent upon opening the door to the laundry room. He wasn't expecting to nearly slip and fall on the spilled liquid as he entered. He was not expecting to see a weird gray kid covered in boiling hot water, either. No, he wasn't expecting any of this.

He had only come to wash one lousy thing. Just the jumpsuit he had woken up in. He wasn't sure how long he had been asleep, or how long he'd been wearing that ugly thing, but he figured it'd just be better to wash the garment anyway. Maybe he could use it for something.

...that weird gray kid pressing buttons on the washing machine was a bit too intriguing to ignore, though. Especially when he was standing next to two washers that had already kicked the bucket ]

What's the matter, kid, never done laundry before? Here's a tip: putting a dent in the top isn't going to clean your dirty shit any faster.

[ He continued walking until he reached a machine that had survived the massacre thus far. It was only then that he realized that most of the detergent seemed to have been lost already. He sighed, looking around for a bottle that hadn't been touched by the young troll ]

THIS TAG IS SO LATE I'M GOMEN. LOVE ME. OTL

[hystericull]

[Oh, for fuck's sake. Of all the times for some stupid shit to want to do laundry, they had to pick the one (AND ONLY ONE) time when Gamzee was trying to figure this shit out.]

[At least he'd managed to get a hit off of the pie before this choice bro strutted his pink ass up in the laundry block. Ah, look, he was offering unsolicited advice, too. What a joyous day this was turning out to be.]

Man, it fuckin' all was askin' for a bonk or motherfucking twelve, actin' up and gettin' all harsh on my ass like what's it all was.

[He scoffed, now... narrowing his eyes and folding the jacket up in his arms defensively.]

Maybe I ain't never was gettin' my righteous motherfuckin' wash on of no duds before. The fuck's it all to you, Pinky!?

IT'S OKAY I STILL LOVE YOU

[wolfbat_captain]

[ Blaming a machine for acting up was ridiculous. Unless it was broken to start with, but Tahno really doubted that considering how much trouble the Troll was having with the third machine. ]

Oh, is that why you're all wet? Did it vomit on you just to piss you off? Or maybe in self defense? Are the washers here capable of that?

[ Pinky? That was a new one. He was honestly a bit surprised at how defensive the kid was getting. He was really expecting some stupid stuttering response rather than a comeback like that. ]

Mommy did all your chores when you were home, then? That's cute. Too bad she never taught you how to do it yourself.

[caliginous]

[The only thing that will announce Karkat's presence is a detergent bottle skidding across the floor to hit Gamzee's foot, creating a slippery trail of detergent between the two of them.

If he happens to look up, he will find one cerulean Karkat judging him silently with folded arms and a raised eyebrow.]

I would say color me impressed, but I have no idea what the fuck you're trying to accomplish here.

[hystericull]

[He'll look up eventually. For now he's just staring at the detergent bottle that has suddenly decided to attack his foot. Wait for it...]

[Wait for it...]

[Okay, now he's looking up to find the source of the witchery. As with every encounter they'd had prior, Gamzee's spirits lift for a moment before realizing that this is the Karkat with the log shoved so far up his ass that it makes him stand straighter.]

The fuck it all look like, motherfucker?

[caliginous]

It looks like a bomb shot off in here, that's what.

[Karkat takes care to step over the few bottles in the room as he enters a bit deeper, eyeing the pie on the one washer with some scrutiny as he unfolds his arms to shove one hand in his pocket. He takes on a somewhat feminine stance, one hip slightly cocked to accent how shiny his shoes are compared to the rest of the room.

Unlike the other few times they've encountered one another, he looks less afraid of Gamzee -- perhaps due to his interactions with the more human of the two, or perhaps simply because the tower has jaded him to fear.]

Or if one hasn't, like one's about to.

Because WHY THE FUCK HAVEN'T THEN SEEN EACH OTHER YET? Also late ;-;

[argoncharybdis]

[You know, normally when planning to wash her clothes, Nepeta could just walk in, no worries at all, throw her clothing in the machine and be on her way. Normally. Today however... Was not meant to be.]

[Her nose wrinkled at the smell of the smoke as she stood int he doorway, trying to peer through. She wondered how something like this could have happened, and how no one was around to fix it yet. The feline curiosity took over, however, and she dared to venture inside to see what was causing the billowing smoke from seeping out into the hall.]

[She carefully made her way through the smog, only to come across. Wait.. Was that? A troll? Really?]

What the eel happened in here?

I DON'T KNOW YUE I JUST DON'T KNOW

[hystericull]

[At the sound of a voice, Gamzee did a wonderfully-executed jump-flail-turn-honk, slamming his wrist and hip into the washer he was hovering over just prior.]

Who the fuck...!

[It sounded like Nepeta. Oh my God it sounded like Nepeta! Was she really in the Tower now? He didn't know what the fuck he should be feeling about that, or even if he really was feeling anything at all, other than surprise. And pain. Ow, his wrist fucking hurt.]