gAmZeE MaKaRa ♑ terminallyCapricious (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hystericull) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2012-12-01 05:45 pm
hystericull) wrote in towerofanimus2012-12-01 05:45 pm
008 ♑ [eighth honk]
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?]
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?]
no subject
[He looked thoroughly baffled. Kid had never done a damn chore in his life. You could call it spoiled, in some strange way, I suppose.]
And I ain't had no mom, neither! Do I all look like a motherfuckin' bitch to you!?
[Was this guy seriously blind? If Gamzee looked like a girl, he was the tallest, flattest girl to ever grace whatever planet they were on.]
[This conversation has gone from laundry straight into a cultural clusterfuck.]
no subject
[ Tahno was spoiled too, of course, but had taken chores into his own hands on more than one occasion. The idea that someone didn't have any idea HOW to do them was kind of funny to him. ]
[ He blinked. A bitch? What? Where did that even come from? Clearly he was not well informed when it came to Troll life. ]
I wasn't aware that having a mom made you a bitch. I guess that makes everyone a bitch, then, doesn't it? You especially.
no subject
[Gamzee scoffed at the talk of chores, shoving his hands in the pockets of his oversized pants and giving his eyes a good roll like any respectable teenager would.]
[What in the fuck was this guy going on about!? He... oh. Oh. Fuck, right. That fucking human thing where they had other humans raising them. Whatever it was called. He really didn't give a single fuck.]
Us grey dudes ain't get a fuckin' plethora of guardians to be getting our asses all motherfuckin' up and saddled with. Bros get the dads, bitches get the moms. Feels stupid weird to all be not the most motherfuckin' culturally ignorant nooksuck in the room for fuckin' once.
...AND I AIN'T A BITCH!!!
no subject
[ the eye-roll and other teenage things just served to amuse Tahno more. Never washing something was at least somewhat understandable, but this kid had never done any of that? That was so funny that it was almost sad. What had this kid spent his whole life doing? ]
[ The rest of Gamzee's reply confused him a bit, though. Men only had dads and girls had the moms? Wow, that made a lot of sense. How did that even work? Still, he'd met one other Troll before, and they had called him culturally uninformed, too. ]
Are all of the other gray people as incompetent as you? Does your 'society' have slaves doing all this instead?
no subject
[For the carpenter droids, Gamzee was grateful. No one should ever think about the kind of hive he would create if left unattended.]
'Sides, wasn't never in my motherfucking intentions to put no one lower than my fuckin' self.
[Was being the key word here.]
The fuck you all so motherfuckin' interested for, anyway!?
no subject
[It was supposed to be insulting, though Tahno didn't know just how bad it was over there.]
Yeah, I bet it'd be pretty difficult to do that.
[He rolled his eyes as he said it, his smile falling for just a moment.]
I just have to ask when I see someone working as hard as you are and still managing to fuck up.
no subject
[He bristled. This guy wasn't necessarily getting under his skin, just being supremely irritating. A shining example of the human race.]
I'll learn, fucker. I may all be a useless motherfuckin' rot-pan, but a brother be all up and to do this shit if fuckin' it kills my ass. So hop up off my writhing bulge on it, bitch.
no subject
Oh, you had a hard life, didn't you?
[Spirits, this Troll sounded like a bitchy non-bender. Whining about how he didn't have things so great. Tahno wouldn't know a hard life if it slapped him in the face, but he knew hard work and reward, and as far as he was concerned, it was the same thing.
...However, that second part sounded promising. At least he was trying. ]
Well, I hope you're a fast learner. From what I hear, people here have to be pretty damn good to survive. I can't say laundry skills are going to do much good, but it's a start.
no subject
[He huffs, waving his hand dismissively.]
Not no different than all no other motherfucker's life, pretty much. Just weren't no fuckin' princess, is all I be telling at you.
[Still irritated.]
Surviving ain't what's nothing that's up and being motherfucking difficult. Fuckin' laundry be much harder.
no subject
[]He could do his own laundry and cooking well enough, but he was a lot better at things in the ring. Bending was a pretty important part of his cooking and cleaning, too.]
It's not so hard once you get the hang of it.