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)
towerofanimus2013-08-16 02:51 pm
hystericull) wrote in towerofanimus2013-08-16 02:51 pm
Entry tags:
019 ♑ [nineteenth honk]
Characters: Gamzee and you.
Setting: Floor 62, Floor 53, Floor 27.
Format: Action.
Summary: A combination of event post and general open log, making up for my hiatus time. Floor 53 will be the setting for the Individuation plot, Floors 62 and 27 will be general settings for non-plot things, forward-dated a little just for convenience's sake. OH AN ACTUAL SUMMARY - Gamzee hears voices and goes crazy, which is pretty run-of-the-mill for him, but this time it's accompanied by shadowy children who don't like him very much. In the other threads, he's being equally disconcerting, however with a noted lack of children.
Warnings: Gamzee. Profanity, general vulgarity.
Floor 53 (Classroom)
[Much like the beach, Gamzee had spent a lot of time vandalizing this floor, as well. Chalk was scattered all over the floor, white hand prints pressed on every surface imaginable. The scrawlings on the board ranged from crude artistic depictions of violence, to repeated profanities, to long lines of text that seemed to have been copied from memory or some sort of literature. These still varied in subject matter. Some of it was written like dialogue; accusatory, harsh and degrading. The language was so brutal and unfeeling, yet it was written in the neatest handwriting (if any of Gamzee's handwriting could actually be considered such.)]
[The dialogue was the words he was hearing from his hauntlings. Some of the children had dissipated after Gamzee had become uninterested in them. However, three of them still stuck around. He did his best to ignore them, but his mindless, unconscious scribbling of their relentless beratements betrayed his efforts, serving only to encourage them. The relationships depicted through the words were pretty discernible, all things considered. One was clearly a parental figure, though these sentences were only half-formed, as if having been translated before being written. The words and phrases here, despite not being complete, were just as ruthless, if not moreso than the others, and the pocks of dust on most of them suggest the chalk had been broken numerous times transcribing them.]
[The other two sections of dialogue were decidedly non-familial in nature. One was platonic, the other romantic, but both seemed to come from very close relationships. One was written exclusively in huge capital letters, belittling chastisement punctuated with "FUCK"s and long, drawn-out metaphors. The other was more serious in nature, almost disappointed, but just as angry.]
[You'd either find Gamzee scribbling away at the chalkboard, wearing down the remainder of his chalk to nubs, or sitting at one of the desks, gouging into the wood with his claws. Whatever he happened to be doing, he was pretty absorbed in it.]
Floor 62 (Beach)
[While this floor had usually been a place of reflection for him, Gamzee has spent most of the day tearing up the beach. Holes were dug everywhere, some filled with water now from the flowing tide. Where there weren't holes, there were deep gouges, claw marks and scratches that ripped across the light, dry sand to reveal the darker grains underneath.]
[He wasn't using any tools, so his hands and clothes were extremely dirty. A few of his long, yellow nails had broken off, not that he'd noticed. Currently, he's working at a particularly deep hole, scratching at the inner walls to carve it wider and painting the sand with the purple blood that had begun to drip from where his skin had broken.]
Floor 27 (Lab)
[For the first time in a while, a large grin was spread across Gamzee's face, long fangs pointing out in awkward directions. Bright light shining through rows of liquid-filled tubes cast multicolored shapes across his cheeks, and although the lights alone would be enough to capture his attention for hours, he found himself much more interested in the liquid itself. Various vials of blood, collected from monsters, fallen tower inhabitants, and two very special samples - bright red and jade green - bubbling in their own tubes next to a beaker of brown, separate from the rest.]
[Gamzee didn't have much patience for learning. The knowledge to operate this equipment was the only thing he could manage to glean from books in the library. Procedures, precautions, and any direction at all, he deemed unnecessary. He was running tests based on a whim, adding catalysts without knowing what could happen. As such, part of his work station had a big, black char across it, and the top part of his shirt collar had been blown off.]
[However, he didn't seem deterred by this, only motivated. He made his rounds, dumping assorted chemicals into the vials before returning to stare at the bubbling Christmas colors with an obsessive fascination.]
Setting: Floor 62, Floor 53, Floor 27.
Format: Action.
Summary: A combination of event post and general open log, making up for my hiatus time. Floor 53 will be the setting for the Individuation plot, Floors 62 and 27 will be general settings for non-plot things, forward-dated a little just for convenience's sake. OH AN ACTUAL SUMMARY - Gamzee hears voices and goes crazy, which is pretty run-of-the-mill for him, but this time it's accompanied by shadowy children who don't like him very much. In the other threads, he's being equally disconcerting, however with a noted lack of children.
Warnings: Gamzee. Profanity, general vulgarity.
[Much like the beach, Gamzee had spent a lot of time vandalizing this floor, as well. Chalk was scattered all over the floor, white hand prints pressed on every surface imaginable. The scrawlings on the board ranged from crude artistic depictions of violence, to repeated profanities, to long lines of text that seemed to have been copied from memory or some sort of literature. These still varied in subject matter. Some of it was written like dialogue; accusatory, harsh and degrading. The language was so brutal and unfeeling, yet it was written in the neatest handwriting (if any of Gamzee's handwriting could actually be considered such.)]
[The dialogue was the words he was hearing from his hauntlings. Some of the children had dissipated after Gamzee had become uninterested in them. However, three of them still stuck around. He did his best to ignore them, but his mindless, unconscious scribbling of their relentless beratements betrayed his efforts, serving only to encourage them. The relationships depicted through the words were pretty discernible, all things considered. One was clearly a parental figure, though these sentences were only half-formed, as if having been translated before being written. The words and phrases here, despite not being complete, were just as ruthless, if not moreso than the others, and the pocks of dust on most of them suggest the chalk had been broken numerous times transcribing them.]
[The other two sections of dialogue were decidedly non-familial in nature. One was platonic, the other romantic, but both seemed to come from very close relationships. One was written exclusively in huge capital letters, belittling chastisement punctuated with "FUCK"s and long, drawn-out metaphors. The other was more serious in nature, almost disappointed, but just as angry.]
[You'd either find Gamzee scribbling away at the chalkboard, wearing down the remainder of his chalk to nubs, or sitting at one of the desks, gouging into the wood with his claws. Whatever he happened to be doing, he was pretty absorbed in it.]
[While this floor had usually been a place of reflection for him, Gamzee has spent most of the day tearing up the beach. Holes were dug everywhere, some filled with water now from the flowing tide. Where there weren't holes, there were deep gouges, claw marks and scratches that ripped across the light, dry sand to reveal the darker grains underneath.]
[He wasn't using any tools, so his hands and clothes were extremely dirty. A few of his long, yellow nails had broken off, not that he'd noticed. Currently, he's working at a particularly deep hole, scratching at the inner walls to carve it wider and painting the sand with the purple blood that had begun to drip from where his skin had broken.]
[For the first time in a while, a large grin was spread across Gamzee's face, long fangs pointing out in awkward directions. Bright light shining through rows of liquid-filled tubes cast multicolored shapes across his cheeks, and although the lights alone would be enough to capture his attention for hours, he found himself much more interested in the liquid itself. Various vials of blood, collected from monsters, fallen tower inhabitants, and two very special samples - bright red and jade green - bubbling in their own tubes next to a beaker of brown, separate from the rest.]
[Gamzee didn't have much patience for learning. The knowledge to operate this equipment was the only thing he could manage to glean from books in the library. Procedures, precautions, and any direction at all, he deemed unnecessary. He was running tests based on a whim, adding catalysts without knowing what could happen. As such, part of his work station had a big, black char across it, and the top part of his shirt collar had been blown off.]
[However, he didn't seem deterred by this, only motivated. He made his rounds, dumping assorted chemicals into the vials before returning to stare at the bubbling Christmas colors with an obsessive fascination.]
no subject
[He was far from an adult, himself. If he would have taken the time out to do the math, he would have placed himself at about 14 or 15 human years. But, he never was the type fascinated with humans and calculations, so he never got around to figuring that out. Chunks of skin and vials of blood were more his speed.]
[In any case, Gamzee regarded the boy with a wary, sinister grin. He thought boiling blood and dissecting severed horns looked cool? There may have been some hope for human youth yet.]
You all be keen on to like watchin' things go motherfuckin' boom?
[He didn't answer his question, but he wasn't kicking him out, either.]
no subject
[Not when he considered the bomb he had found in the Crew Quarters, in the Nonary Game, shortly before he had woken up in the Tower. But, sometimes small explosions were okay, right? Like, when they happened in science experiments? Then it was okay. As long as nobody got hurt.] But I like, you know, learning new things. Science-y things, especially.
[Maybe a more rational, well-adjusted kid would've thought all the bubbling, cut open array of items on the table was gross. But, well, Quark didn't like to think he scared easily. He was used to things being kind of gross and gritty and dark, back home. And in any case, nobody could convince him that this didn't look like the work of a scientist. A crazy scientist who maybe didn't know what he was doing, mind you. But wasn't science supposed to be messy? That was why they had to do so many experiments when testing out theories!]
no subject
I don't like learning motherfuckin' so all much as what's havin' stuff be up and happening at me because of something what I all could be making happen, mostly.
[Get all that? Good.]
Harder than motherfuckin' all I was making it out to be imagined to be, though.
[Gamzee pulled a face in frustration, staring contemplatively between Quark and his bubbling beakers.]
no subject
[Quark's face scrunches up in thought as he attempts--really quite earnestly--to understand exactly what it was that had just been said. He'd never heard anyone talk like this before. Was that normal on where ever it was that Gamzee came from?]
Okay!
[Yeah, he hadn't figured it out. It just felt like a puzzle of words that he was meant to decode. But Quark hadn't really been good at word puzzles--Phi was the one who had been really good at anagrams. Maybe if she was here, she could've explained. Still, he didn't want to be rude. That was why Quark had at least made an attempt at feigned understanding.]
[At least the second part was easier. Quark stands up on his toes to try and get a better look at the materials Gamzee's working with. Naturally, he recognizes none of it. And he doesn't want to get up all close without being invited.]
Maybe...I can help? If you want, I mean.
[Not that he knew how he could. But things were usually easier with assistance, right?]
no subject
[Gamzee eyed the boy curiously as he peered at the beakers of blood, lacing his bony fingers together and resting his hands against his stomach.]
Ain't you a little little to be being all some motherfuckin' science-y savant?
[Truth be told, Gamzee was only a few years older than Quark, but humans always looked younger than they actually were. How even were you supposed to tell how old some of these bitches were? They didn't have a grub stage, and they really didn't grow beyond six feet at best. He was taking a stab in the dark, here.]
no subject
N-No way! I could never be too little for science!
[He hesitates, feeling like he was missing something in his marvelous display of enthusiasm and argumentative reasoning.]
Because...because, uh...I could never be smaller than an atom!
[Yeah! Brilliant!]
no subject
Well, I all fuckin' guess that be making motherfuckin' sense, yeah.
[He nodded sagely, rubbing at his chin with a few clawed fingers.]
What sort of shit be you all proficient in the fucking most?
I was having a bit of a writing slump ksbdfg sorry ;u;
I haven’t really worked with lab materials or anything. [He was hesitant to admit it, just in case it made Gamzee change his mind about letting Quark help or something, but he figured it wouldn’t be polite to lie about his skills in science. Or, er, lack of skills, really. He had a lot of heart, anyway. That certainly had to count for something! After all, he’d never learn if he didn’t jump headfirst into trouble, right? Lots of brilliant people didn’t get brilliant until they messed up brilliantly.]
But I’m really good at finding useful things, and then using them to build stuff! Kinda like inventing, I guess? [Did inventing even count as a science? Quark wanted to say that yes. Yes it did.] My Grandpa’s said before that I’m good at picking up new skills pretty fast, too.