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route_10652011-04-14 04:00 am
usedmiracles.livejournal.com) wrote in route_10652011-04-14 04:00 am
Entry tags:
- aradia megido | homestuck,
- crona | soul eater,
- dave strider | homestuck,
- doc scratch | homestuck,
- eridan ampora | homestuck,
- gamzee makara | homestuck,
- john egbert | homestuck,
- kanaya maryam | homestuck,
- karkat vantas | homestuck,
- maka albarn | soul eater,
- rose lalonde | homestuck,
- sollux captor | homestuck,
- soul eater evans | soul eater,
- vrisa serket | homestuck
...They Are Both Me...
Who: Gamzee Makara, Karkat Vantas, Rose Lalonde, Crona, Jade Harley, Doc Scratch, Eridan Ampora, Soul Eater Evans, Maka Albarn, Kanaya Maryam, Sollux Captor, Aradia Megido, John Egbert, Dave Strider, Death The Kid, Vriska Serket.
Where: Union cave
When: Afternoon of 4/13
Summary: Gamzee hasn't had any pies and is finally sobering up at the worst time. Happy Birthday John.
Rating: pg-13 for violence and swearing.
Log:
As if the random bug attack that was plaguing Johto wasn't enough of a problem for the rather large traveling group full of teenagers, it seems as though the group found yet another obstacle in their way. This one in the form of a towering mountain, the only way around it was through it, through the entrance which was a gaping ominous mouth of a cave that lead into rows of stalagmites and shadowy ledges, and for all they knew mazes. But if they were going to progress any further, it wasn't as if the group had much of a choice. Gamzee was hardly one to complain, so when Soul had proposed a race to the end to make things more interesting, he had been one of the ones to merely agree by not speaking at all; he hadn't exactly been feeling himself so even if there was the off chance that he wasn't too up in feeling the idea, he wouldn't have said anything anyways. His head ache that was persisting was more important anyways. So when the rest hurried off into the cave, he followed at his own pace, not to worried about actually taking part.
Normally, Gamzee would have felt sort of bad for making John fall behind everyone else, he could tell by the slight eagerness of his companion that he wanted to take part, but Gamzee merely wandered along at his own pace--trying to go any faster, or push himself in anyway just made his head feel all sorts of things his heart wasn't up in agreeing with. Once it was obvious that Gamzee wasn't going to speed up anytime soon, John had started texting someone on his pokegear, it didn't matter to Gamzee who it was, he didn't care all he needed to do was to keep on moving, to keep that headache at bay, but as time went on it seemed to only increase. It felt like it was going to consume him, like something that shouldn't be exposed was ripping at the surface and there was little to nothing he could do about it--in fact, he wasn't Eridan so he might be wrong, but he definitely felt like suppressing whatever this was, was completely hopeless.
Who knew how long had past since they entered the cave, the walls and paths looked all the same and no one else was in sight. Chances were they were just as separated from each other as John and Gamzee were from them. John continued to just text away at his pokegear, while the juggalo who had been silent the whole time fell further and further behind, the silence bringing an almost chilling air to the area and had John not been nose deep in his pokegear he might have noticed something was off. Noticed that the once placid and lazy foot steps of the juggalo soon picked up their pace, was getting closer and almost clapped against the ground in a way that was almost threatening, almost dangerous. Menacing really.
Whatever Gamzee was feeling at this point was not anything familiar to the juggalo. He had felt it maybe once before, but had soon forgotten it. It was a moment that surprised and amazed the other trolls, but that was then and this was now and it wasn't for a greater cause like it once was, no what Gamzee was feeling was a dark and twisted feeling of rage that gripped at his soul like a demanding vice, only offering to let go once the boy in front of him had met his fate, the fate that was predetermined by some cosmic force that Gamzee wasn't sure of. And yet, he was sure of, totally sure of, never so sure in his life. As the fogginess that was the ground of Gamzee's mind started to clear, so did the obscurities of what he needed to do, what he was there for, what and who exactly those wonderful, mirthful messiahs were. It was all making sense now, it was all coming together and Gamzee felt as if some hidden path that had absolutely no trace of existing before just sprang forth as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Like a neon light bulb flicking on in a dark room with it's obviousness.
It appeared as though his quickening pace had alerted John, pulled him from his gear, or maybe it was the sound the rock made when it was lifted from the ground so suddenly, scooped into the hand of the approaching juggalo. It wasn't as if John was given time to react, to say anything, to do anything. Nothing was done and nothing could have been done before that rock made it's crashing descent to the backside of the poor boy's head. The hit was strong enough to send the boy sprawling. Enough to knock those glasses from his face, the gear from his hands and the consciousness straight out of him. Gamzee stares on at his work, one swift blow was all it took, he knew the boy wasn't dead, but that wasn't what he wanted--no that wasn't what they wanted. There was a better target in mind, of course he wasn't the only one the juggalo would go after, no there were too many brothers and sisters to invite to the carnival and Gamzee was anything if not considerate of his fellow friends.
It was then that the gear caught Gamzee's eye, that corresponding text to John's blue was a familiar shade. It belonged to the kid's friend, Dave. Looking over the conversation which was a simple repeat of words between the two, he grew curious and then mischievous. He wasn't exactly sure what 'marco' 'polo' meant exactly, but he knew what he was going to do, they agreed.
marco
polo
marco
honk.
Where: Union cave
When: Afternoon of 4/13
Summary: Gamzee hasn't had any pies and is finally sobering up at the worst time. Happy Birthday John.
Rating: pg-13 for violence and swearing.
Log:
As if the random bug attack that was plaguing Johto wasn't enough of a problem for the rather large traveling group full of teenagers, it seems as though the group found yet another obstacle in their way. This one in the form of a towering mountain, the only way around it was through it, through the entrance which was a gaping ominous mouth of a cave that lead into rows of stalagmites and shadowy ledges, and for all they knew mazes. But if they were going to progress any further, it wasn't as if the group had much of a choice. Gamzee was hardly one to complain, so when Soul had proposed a race to the end to make things more interesting, he had been one of the ones to merely agree by not speaking at all; he hadn't exactly been feeling himself so even if there was the off chance that he wasn't too up in feeling the idea, he wouldn't have said anything anyways. His head ache that was persisting was more important anyways. So when the rest hurried off into the cave, he followed at his own pace, not to worried about actually taking part.
Normally, Gamzee would have felt sort of bad for making John fall behind everyone else, he could tell by the slight eagerness of his companion that he wanted to take part, but Gamzee merely wandered along at his own pace--trying to go any faster, or push himself in anyway just made his head feel all sorts of things his heart wasn't up in agreeing with. Once it was obvious that Gamzee wasn't going to speed up anytime soon, John had started texting someone on his pokegear, it didn't matter to Gamzee who it was, he didn't care all he needed to do was to keep on moving, to keep that headache at bay, but as time went on it seemed to only increase. It felt like it was going to consume him, like something that shouldn't be exposed was ripping at the surface and there was little to nothing he could do about it--in fact, he wasn't Eridan so he might be wrong, but he definitely felt like suppressing whatever this was, was completely hopeless.
Who knew how long had past since they entered the cave, the walls and paths looked all the same and no one else was in sight. Chances were they were just as separated from each other as John and Gamzee were from them. John continued to just text away at his pokegear, while the juggalo who had been silent the whole time fell further and further behind, the silence bringing an almost chilling air to the area and had John not been nose deep in his pokegear he might have noticed something was off. Noticed that the once placid and lazy foot steps of the juggalo soon picked up their pace, was getting closer and almost clapped against the ground in a way that was almost threatening, almost dangerous. Menacing really.
Whatever Gamzee was feeling at this point was not anything familiar to the juggalo. He had felt it maybe once before, but had soon forgotten it. It was a moment that surprised and amazed the other trolls, but that was then and this was now and it wasn't for a greater cause like it once was, no what Gamzee was feeling was a dark and twisted feeling of rage that gripped at his soul like a demanding vice, only offering to let go once the boy in front of him had met his fate, the fate that was predetermined by some cosmic force that Gamzee wasn't sure of. And yet, he was sure of, totally sure of, never so sure in his life. As the fogginess that was the ground of Gamzee's mind started to clear, so did the obscurities of what he needed to do, what he was there for, what and who exactly those wonderful, mirthful messiahs were. It was all making sense now, it was all coming together and Gamzee felt as if some hidden path that had absolutely no trace of existing before just sprang forth as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Like a neon light bulb flicking on in a dark room with it's obviousness.
It appeared as though his quickening pace had alerted John, pulled him from his gear, or maybe it was the sound the rock made when it was lifted from the ground so suddenly, scooped into the hand of the approaching juggalo. It wasn't as if John was given time to react, to say anything, to do anything. Nothing was done and nothing could have been done before that rock made it's crashing descent to the backside of the poor boy's head. The hit was strong enough to send the boy sprawling. Enough to knock those glasses from his face, the gear from his hands and the consciousness straight out of him. Gamzee stares on at his work, one swift blow was all it took, he knew the boy wasn't dead, but that wasn't what he wanted--no that wasn't what they wanted. There was a better target in mind, of course he wasn't the only one the juggalo would go after, no there were too many brothers and sisters to invite to the carnival and Gamzee was anything if not considerate of his fellow friends.
It was then that the gear caught Gamzee's eye, that corresponding text to John's blue was a familiar shade. It belonged to the kid's friend, Dave. Looking over the conversation which was a simple repeat of words between the two, he grew curious and then mischievous. He wasn't exactly sure what 'marco' 'polo' meant exactly, but he knew what he was going to do, they agreed.
marco
polo
marco
honk.
Dave, Rose, John
no subject
They had spent a fair amount of time-- he and Rose -- making the trek through the caves. The idea of a race was pretty appealing, but it didn't sound all that smart to Strider. Still, hey, made this place a little less boring. He'd prodded at John with playful competition, until they had finally broken out in their little "Marco-Polo" game. Didn't seem all that tactful to be doing it via text, but Dave greatly enjoyed the irony on the matter.
He smirked as he texted away to John, giving a small, brief snicker at the constant replies of "Polo" to his "Marco". He didn't make much commentary to Rose, still finding it slightly tense to be hanging around her. It was easier to just keep in contact with Egbert.
Though the sudden change of text color and... Was that a honk? Dave's eyebrows perked, confused. He typed a response quickly.
no subject
"Why are you wearing your shades in here? You cannot possibly be able to see." His snickering had started to wear on her nerves, to the point she found the need to harass him far too great to ignore and broke. "And honestly, Strider, must you text constantly? You're not paying any attention to where we're going, are you? I was under the firm impression you wanted to lead to ensure we wouldn't get lost."
Glancing back to see if he was even paying attention, she offered a snort at his confused expression and rolled her eyes, focusing back on the path ahead.
"Whatever, Dave."
no subject
"Question and observation one: Don't care. And hey, you can't possibly think that I'd up and neglect John while we're in this cave. I have to keep tabs on him 'cause it's a thing." Another snort. "And I love him."
He stared at the device, suddenly not getting the same prompt responses as he had been previously.
"... Aw come on, don't tell me you found someone cooler to talk to."
no subject
However, she drops the subject in favor of the one concerning John. "Oh, forgive me. I forgot you are both unable to breathe without talking to each other on a second by second basis. Do you think he would let me be his maid of honor at the wedding?" That last statement has her finally coming to a stop, arms crossing.
"Cooler than you? Dave, there is no one in this cavern with such a capacity for coolness as you. You are the reason it is so damn cold in here. Surely you jest. Why do you ask at this point?"
no subject
"I'unno, ask John. He's the wife." His fingers continue tapping away at the keys. "And it was sarcasm, Lalonde..."
Dave's voice lowered as he continued typing out a longer message, slowly muttering the words to himself aloud.
"John, John. Where. Are. You. I... am getting... a little spooked here... since this place is dark... and you are retarded... darkness plus retardation equals... pretty. much. doom."
no subject
Casually, she sauntered a little closer to lean over his shoulder, a brow raised curiously as she attempted to catch a glimpse at what the boy was typing.
"What's wrong?"
no subject
"He was talking to me, and now he's not. Just kind of weird that I get... A honk, and nothing beyond that. Dude, there's not even a context for a honk, what the fuck does that mean?"
no subject
"I can't say I'm sure of that myself. I cannot surmise any reason for him to send you such a message. Especially when only moments before you both were delighting in such a...riveting game of text Marco Polo."
no subject
It took him a moment to put two and two together, and there wasn't much concern beyond the 'Oh, Gamzee is just being a douche and taking John's device', until there is still no response after Dave's constant chatter to trigger a reply.
"We should go look for him. Doesn't feel right to me."
Dave placed his device into his pocket, and reached into his backpack to grab a flashlight. He flicked it on, using the light as the only highlight of the trail. His shades created an even darker world around him, but at least the flashlight served as assistance from possibly crashing.
no subject
"I hope they hadn't wandered off the main path." A terrible turn of events that would be, and what Rose was fearing. She'd dealt with Gamzee, so had plenty to experience to rule the troll out as a threat. In her mind, she was worried they'd managed to get lost and taken a bad fall, or been caught in some other horrible incident. Rock slides certainly weren't out of the question - she'd seen a few cliff walls that had her wary - but surely they would have heard that, right?
Quite grateful for the flashlight (because even though she wasn't wearing shades, the cave was still a shade of too-dark for her comfort), she followed. Wary, however. The cave looked much different in the light than it had only moments before.
no subject
"I'unno. But we're going to keep walking around 'till we find him."
It was pretty obvious how serious he was. Dave might not have literally been attached to John by the hip, but they were best friends. The only time John would be an asshole and neglect his messages was when either a. he was running away from his father carrying a plate of cookies, or b. he was fighting imps. Either of the two seemed reasonable, and it just wasn't like John to up and end a conversation in the middle of a mad game of Marco-Polo.
He shone his flashlight ahead, leading his own partially-blinded path. Every so often, he'd call out John's name in the normal monotone.
no subject
Slipping her 'gear back into her pocket after a few messages with no reply, she followed in silent thought, eyes darting around in the light of his torch in search. It was so dark, and she worried that they might overlook their friend because the limited area of view passed right by him. An idea came to mind, and she paused to pull a Pokeball from her bag, releasing her Noctowl.
"Tick, if you would please scout ahead, that would be wonderful. We're looking for John." Scratching gently under the owl's chin, Rose watched her flutter off with a hoot of confirmation. "She possesses far greater vision in the dark than us, so hopefully this will help. I'm sure her height advantage will be useful as well."
no subject
He snapped his fingers at the vulpix, following it with a slight whistle.
"Luda, do me a favor. Catch John's scent and help Tick out. Give me a signal if you find him."
Luda gave an approving yip, quickly dashing to follow after the owl. Dave shoved that hand back in his pocket.
"She'll keep tabs on Tick. Far as we go, we should keep moving. Luda'll know where to find me. She's practically a stalker."
no subject
"Keep watch for a Lopunny as well, or perhaps for any frantic crying from one. Casey was most surely following John, and if nothing terrible befell her, she will be most distressed." At the sound of that, a small whimper came from her bag, Guile poking her head out to look up at the two.
no subject
"Maybe if we shout that we found Nic Cage, he'll emerge from the shadows. Start a motherfuckin' pride parade. One that's so extravagant, we'll have a light show leading us out of here."
no subject
"It's an idea. If we were brought here, after all, surely Nic Cage is capable of arriving as well." Crossing her arms, fingers tapping against her coat, she snorted. "I am sure, if it were for Nic Cage, he would find fireworks in this dingy cavern."
no subject
"Maybe we should give it a shot. Start calling out for him like we're starstru--"
A familiar yip echoed from beyond the cave, suggesting that this was Luda's signal that Dave had requested. Dave dropped the smirk, holding out his flashlight and quickening his walk to a bolting run.
"Come on."
no subject
Tick soon met up with them, flying over head with a soft 'hoot' before fluttering ahead of them. She seemed to be trying to help lead them, doing her best to stay within their line of sight and area of light.
When they did come upon his location, however, Rose stopped short a few feet away.
It was not the scenario she had been hoping for, John lying on the floor of the cave as he was, unconscious and likely injured. The Pokegear nearby assisted Dave's flashlight in illuminating the area, showing no sign of their friend's travel partner and glinting off an object a little ways in the distance. After a moment's inspection, she realized those were his glasses - how did they get way over there? - and the girl glanced around for anything he could have fallen from, or anything that could have fallen on him.
Nothing presented itself readily, and she focused back to the boy on the ground.
"...D-Dave..."
no subject
And just as they got closer, the light illuminating from John's Pokegear, highlighting familiar dark locks and pale skin and... Are those his glasses on the floor--
And is that blood glistening in the light of his screen?!
"John!" Dave didn't hesitate, immediately moving forward as he came to realize his best friend was unconscious on the floor. He sped past Rose, dropping to his knees quickly to grab hold of his friend, raising a hand to smack lightly at the side of his face.
"Dude, dude. Wake up. This isn't really the choice place to take a nap."
... Despite the fact that he was bleeding.
He glanced up at Rose, shades threatening to fall from his frame.
"Call someone. He's bleeding."
no subject
Rose was digging in her bag after setting Guile down, fetching the medical supplies she had on her while kneeling down.
"Where? Here, we need to clean and treat it while we wait as best as we can." Disinfecting cloths were handed to him, antibiotic ointment and bandages set aside so she could help him move John as they needed to get to his wound.
no subject
Was able to bring these two to him.
Through the stark darkness and emptiness that the cave exuded with it's seemingly endless caverns and crannies, a resounding, familiar sound could be heard. The same sound that was represented not long ago through indigo colored text. A message sent to Dave, an invitation and reply. Gamzee would be lying if he claimed to feel anything but utter delight that the two had taken him up on the offer. The two of them, agreeing to their fate. Much like how John had. Traveling partners, that was the name it was given, but he knew. He knew it was merely the start of it all, he was going to start this impromptu carnival with John as the first. His scarlet blood being the ink to write the invitation for the others. So generous John was.
But it was time to show these two exactly what Gamzee had invited them to. Yes. That was exactly what was needed.
"Brother, sister it's good to motherfuckin' bein all up and seein' you." His voice was low, raspy sounding almost. Very unlike Gamzee. His general coolness still there, that laid back nature still present, though it was more of a parody of the old Gamzee, a joke really.
"SO HOW ABOUT WE PLAY A MOTHERFUCKIN' GAME? Sounds like all up in bein' a good idea to me, what do you think my choice brother and sister? JOHN THERE SEEMED TO MOTHERFUCKIN' THINK THAT IT WAS A MOTHERFUCKIN' GRAND IDEA. So why we don't all up just have a motherfuckin' good time? WHY WE DON'T ALL UP JUST MOTHERFUCKIN' HAVE A GOOD MOTHERFUCKIN' TIME?" As he spoke, he stepped from his cover, the dim light that lit their spot showing him, though he still was obscured slightly. While the light was enough to show the vagueness of his form, it was no where near enough to completely show his features. The shadows still clung to him in spite of the light.
His usually half lidded eyes now drawn open as he stares at them, his smile that would once be called friendly and inviting, now was a wicked split in his face that held friendliness as a mockery and laced haunting maliciousness through out it.
no subject
"You did this?!"
/latest ever I'm so sorry ffff
John's attacker who, for all she'd come to learn about him, was the last one of the group you'd expect to do such a thing. Or even be capable of doing such a thing. Not because of how kind he was, but because of how easily it seemed that his thoughts shifted and changed. Surely he wouldn't have been able to concentrate long enough to...but then, here John was.
"...H-how could you?" Her voice was shaking, and she silently cursed that, but continued. "Why would you even do something like this? What's wrong with you?"
Eridan
no subject
So now, Eridan was yards away from the group. He walked down this seemed to be never ending path, looking for the others. For now, he wanted to stay away from Karkat. Karkat, the first friend Eridan had ever made and one of the few people that could stand being around Eridan. Karkat, one of Eridan's best friends. Although, it wasn't that way anymore, was it? No, he knew Karkat resented him. He knew just the mere fact that he was still breathing pissed the Cancer off to no end. And it was for that reason that he did not want to run into Karkat. No, he had other victims in mind. Namely the douchebags that rejected and hurt him. I mean, they all wanted him dead so kill them before they kill you, right? His body may be human but his mind was still troll and the troll instinct to kill was starting to kick in again. He could feel the adrenaline from the last time he killed anyone he cared about rise up inside him. And frankly... he liked the feeling.
no subject
Though, there were other means of catching up with his choice brother. Like, the Aquarius that wasn't far from him. He could prove to be a useful asset to this all. A message. That was exactly what he was going to be. A motherfuckin' message to his brother, a message to get his attention, to entice him to halt his advances and possibly head to the juggalo himself.
As he makes his obscured approach, he resonates a sound that normally wouldn't be of a hostile note, in fact, most would place to be along the lines of his usual friendly attitude. That once welcoming and friendly honking, something now menacing and haunting. A certain air to it that one couldn't exactly describe as malicious, but not exactly calming by any means. Like a mockery of benevolence.
He doesn't show himself, no not yet. Just watching the former seatroll as he makes his way through the dark and foreboding cave, just watching, waiting,
no subject
Was that a honk?
A honk only meant that Gamzee was around and the thought of being with Gamzee made Eridan feel a little better. His matesprit was probably the only person who cared about him. He was always on his side in arguments and he knew just what to say to make everything better.
In what one could call excitement, Eridan began looking around the area for the juggalo. Although It was a little hard considering the fact that it was pretty dark in the cave and Eridan didn't have a light of any sort.
Soul, Maka, Jade
Sollux, Aradia
Karkat
don't even know how all these other threads are going to go, but I at least want to start this
Between the race through the cave and his stellar navigational skills, Karkat had managed to both separate himself from his travel group and get himself thoroughly lost. Now the former troll simply had no idea where he was. Not that he was going to call anyone and ask for directions, let alone do anything as low as call out for help. He was the leader. He was perfectly capable on his own. If anyone could handle this shit, it was him. Shit would be so handled it would be worry-free for years.
And that's how, muttering, irritable, and too stubborn to do anything dictated by common sense, Karkat ended up wandering aimlessly through Union Cave.
no subject
Someone a little bit closer to the juggalo. His main target, his main man. Dear, sweet, motherfuckin' Karkat. He placidly looks down at the unconscious body as he grabs his pokegear. Fumbling with it(Most certainly calling Karkat) before turning the camera on and having it pan down to Eridan's limp form.
It only showed for a few seconds before the feed get cut. Before the text soon comes.
no subject
That was why when a message came through to him, his first thought was that he'd have to tell someone off for worrying about where he was. He'd tell them alright, fuck that noise, because he could handle him--
Eridan.
--self...
Bruised and bloody.
As his mouth fell open, the feed cut, and with it cut off any verbal response he may have made.
Then came the text.
As the messages came through, the answer of who was behind this was answered. He'd seen this quirk before when Gamzee slipped, he knew the font color, and above all, he knew the warning Kanaya had made about him. That's what stopped him from questioning this and opened up his mind to immediate worry. Sure, Eridan was hardly up there on the list of those he didn't want to see harmed, but this - this wasn't what he wanted. It was bad enough having to deal with the former sea dweller after his trip to the Veil, but now Gamzee had lost it somehow, too.
He swallowed, tried to think, then fumbled with his Pokégear, trying to come up with some message to send back.
After another sharp swallow that made his throat ache, he hit the "send" button with shaking finger, and started walking. For all he hated being lost before, he had more than double the reason now. He had to find Gamzee--had to do something--even though he could now feel a lump of cold, icy fear lodged in the pit of his stomach.
no subject
After a long enough pause, another message gets sent out.
no subject
It didn't stop him from letting out a startled yelp when the next message came through. The sound echoes from the cavernous cave walls - so much for trying to sneak up on anyone here.
There was indeed a sick feeling in his stomach along with the fear, but not all of it was directed at Gamzee. A notable chunk was turned inward, spawned by what he mentioned just then - how he hadn't trusted Kanaya's warning enough.
no subject
Oh? Was that Karkat? His best friend? The sound was vague, but it resonated enough for the juggalo to hear it--or maybe he just wasn't as far away as he thought. Karkat or not, this was a fortunate turn of events.
Not too terribly far from Karkat there was a small obscure sound. Might have just been the cave, might have been a small honk. Might also be accompanied by the tapping of shoes against the cave floor.
no subject
If only she were here now.
Before he could start to formulate a response, however, his eyes found the last part of the text. Gamzee had heard him, and he was on the way.
He closed the 'gear then, shoving it away into a pocket. For as much as he'd wanted to find the clown a moment before, now the fear won over, telling him to get out of there. But he couldn't run. Running would be noisy, and he couldn't afford to give any more hints to his location after--
Was that a honk? Were those footsteps? His insides seized up as though caught in a vice grip. Somehow he managed to swallow back the scared sound he wanted to make. Carefully, slowly, he edged back away from it, footsteps ginger as he could make them. There were rocks here, surely he could hide behind one. Just keep his breathing quiet, don't put one foot down too hard, careful now, just get there quick...
He prayed Gamzee wasn't as close as he sounded.
no subject
A smile splitting his face like a mocking wound, only making his appearance more haunting, more hostile especially with the blood. It stained his shirt, Eridan's cape, even drops decorated the pair of shades that adorned the juggalo's face. He had no weapons, he didn't need any. He had handled the others, faired the encounters previous without them--and his choice brother Karkat? Yeah, he'd be just as easy to take down. But he was going to have fun with this one. He knew he was--despite the collection being his trophies, there was a specific reason he had a certain pair of shades.
He knew what it meant to Karkat. He knew, and he wanted him to see, wanted him to know who he had taken care of. Who he had invited to his carnival. Maybe then, maybe, Karkat would be more willing to go--to join. To see his view on things. Maybe even get some under-motherfuckin-standing going on in Karkat's think pan much akin to how it was going in his own dilapidated one.
"Come on out brother. I KNOW YOU'RE MOTHERFUCKIN' THERE."
1/2
Each step closer just made it worse. Each footfall ticked down to an unavoidable encounter, and he knew it. He had figured already that running wasn't a viable option, not without trying to disable Gamzee. But how would he fare against him? Could he fight him? Couldn't he just stay here and hope he would move on? But then what about the others - could he just let him find them and hurt them?
No--No, he couldn't. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if they suffered injury through his inaction.
Before he could decide what to even try, however, Gamzee's voice suddenly sounded out. His head whipped towards the source on instinct; beyond the rock he knelt hidden behind, he could see him. Not well, with this dark, but enough. The shoes, the usual polka dotted pants, the... the cape. Eridan's cape. Blood dotting his shirt, the top of his cape, his hair, his face, his--
Not his.
Dave's sunglasses.
Karkat's eyes widened, and just as his mouth dropped open, he felt as if something were opening up inside him. As though the claw of fear gripped so tight around him were relinquishing its hold - or the simple rage he felt filling himself had pushed it off. Dave might not hate him now, even platonically, but the former troll couldn't just give no reaction to seeing his former kismesis and matesprit's signature shades on Gamzee's face, flecked with blood.
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"YOU GRUBFUCKER!"
And with Karkat came his fist, aimed not for his face, but his stomach.
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"What's the fuckin' matter my brother? ARE YOU MOTHERFUCKIN' BOTHERED BY SOMETHIN'? I can't imagine what could ever be all up done be the problem. IS THERE SOMETHIN' ON MY MOTHERFUCKIN' FACE BROTHER?"
He takes a step closer, his movements slow, but it had an obvious deliberateness to it. As if holding back, as if trying to psyche the other out, mess with him, something. He wasn't about to strike him, not yet. No, the brother couldn't be spoiled yet. That would take all the fun out of it.
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Of course, Gamzee was the strongest troll. They had all seen it in the battle against the Black King, though none had quite believed it. But Gamzee was human now, and Karkat had somehow expected that strength to die with it. But then, he was human now, too.
Before he could think it over more, though - something dangerous to do in the middle of a fight - the Capricorn spoke.
"Fuck you, you sick shit," Karkat hissed. That taunt was all he needed to put his mind back on the situation instead of its mechanics. "You know damn fucking well what's wrong. You're doing it on purpose."
The thought brought another wave of sick rage to his gut, and as Gamzee stepped forward, Karkat found himself striking out again. A pair of punches, one-two, flew out for his shoulders.
"You fucking think I'll just let you get away with it?!"
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But just as fast as Gamzee had been struck, his hand finds its place grasping Karkat's wrist, his hold tightening to a painful degree. He pulls Karkat so they are even closer in proximity, their faces not too far away from each other, but not exactly close. The free hand rising, slim fingers grasping the frames of those shades, lowering them so Karkat could see his eyes. His wicked eyes that seemed to hold much more than just twisted intent, there was a deep blood lust behind them, a harsh whimsy.
"I don't quite seem to have my understand on, my brother. WHAT EXACTLY ARE YOU MOTHERFUCKIN' GONNA DO ABOUT IT? Are you gonna get my wicked motherfuckin' understandin' on? ARE YOU GONNA HELP ME GET MY MOTHERFUCKIN' SCHOOLFED ON, MY GUTTERBLOODED MOTHERFUCKER?"
It was then that Gamzee finally struck, using Karkat's arm to hold him in place, as he released the glasses and swung with his free arm for the Cancer's face. If the hit were to make it's mark, he'd no sooner release that arm, keeping his hold on it to draw back his fist again in an attempt to strike it down upon his choice brother.
"I already motherfuckin' got away with it."
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Karkat winced himself at the tight grip, and glared through narrowed eyes as he was pulled in close. Even as he lowered the shades, that look remained. It wasn't that the blood lust wasn't unnerving. It most certainly was, especially from one he once viewed (however begrudgingly) as a best friend. But at the same time, seeing that look, knowing how serious Gamzee was, drove up his own determination. He couldn't let him turn that intent on anyone else.
The words did their job just fine: they drove up his rage while lowering his ability to think clearly. The fist neatly cut off a would-have-been shouted retort, replacing it with a grunt of pain. A second quickly followed with the second punch.
What could he do now? Karkat knew he couldn't just pull his arm from the clown's grip - not by force. Trying to punch him with his free hand might just invite a secondary grasp, and he already knew his blows were the less effective of the two.
But wait. Hadn't Kanaya said something before? Hadn't she told him what she did in the Veil? She had... that's right.
Karkat hazarded a laugh as it rose to mind.
Then his leg rose in a swift kick for the globes.
"Your rotted think pan doesn't understand shit!"
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Gamzee was about to lay another hard punch to his friend when something caught him off guard. Something being that swift kick to an undesired place--To which even those in the most psychotic of states would still be rendered doubled over and writhing, much like the clown was after a particularly loud and exasperated HONK. His mind was warring with itself, screaming for him to get up, for him to make the peasant blood pay for what he had done, but the other half was in too much pain to do much of anything.
Though, despite his crumpled form, he kept a malicious glare fixated on Karkat, his teeth gritted with a snarl. Though his features were softening a bit, as he felt something rising again, trying to bring itself to the surface, something that was arguing with the others, something protective. Protective over such a filthy lowly thing such as Karkat. It was laughable, a fucking joke and the more he--they thought of it, the more it became humorous. The more the pained juggalo found himself laughing. First low, always low. But soon it rose to a guttural throaty laugh that echoed through the cave.
"Such a motherfuckin' joke..."
It cuts off quick enough, as his expression falls back to a look that was both malicious as relaxed. His eyes never leaving Karkat as his grin just stays wide. By this point, if Karkat doesn't react fast enough, he's going to rise, despite the resounding pain between his knees. He had a job to do, and no amount of pain was going to stop him.
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Then Gamzee laughed. Just hearing that sound, even soft, reignited the ire within him. As it rose, so did his anger, until he was growling in response.
"A joke? You think this is a FUCKING JOKE?"
And like that, Karkat snapped forward, hands seizing for Gamzee's neck just as the clown resumed his malicious grin. His weight shoved after it. The goal was simple: knock him to the ground, pin him, strangle him. The only trick was if he had enough coordination through the rage to do it, and Gamzee too little through the pain to counteract it.
Still, he yelled.
"This isn't fucking funny, you maggot-brained piece of shit! I'm not going to let you hurt them, not going to let you hurt anyone else. You think I'm a fucking gutterblood? You think anyone beneath you on the hemospectrum isn't worthwhile? Kanaya told me that trick, and it put you down on your fucking knees!"
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But he didn't.
He couldn't quite place this reluctance, this obscure hidden drive to allow this, to not raise his hands and fend off the other, which normally would be all too easy. To just stare up at those eyes that had almost matching bloodlust. Matching rage and hatred. His grin spreading as he stares, a mixture of warped amusement and misplaced fondness. He opened his mouth, a choked gasp escaping for a moment before a strained whisper is released.
"You--hhhhhh--gonna do it b--Brother? ARE YOU--GONNA MOTHE--MOTHERFUCKIN' DO IT? Deliver th-the motherfuckin' pun--Hhhh--punchline I know you got it the fu--fuck all up in you."
After making his struggled statement, he just continued to watch Karkat, his half lidded eyes staying on him as his face continues to harbor that split in his face one would call a smile. It didn't matter that his lungs were burning, that his head was feeling light and that his eyes were finding it hard to focus. This frail human body was worthless. It was growing tired, weak and still. Its aching muscles screaming more now, but he didn't care. That irrational calm held his arms down, held him in place as Karkat choked him.
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In fact, he was goading him on.
Karkat stared down at the clown beneath him: he stared at the hands around his neck, and the smile on his face. He was really doing it, wasn't he? Trying to strangle someone to death, and not for the first time. But Eridan - Eridan had at least put up a fight. Eridan had managed to shove him off! And then go hide, and...
...and...
"I can't."
The former troll pulled his hands free, arms shaking, and scrambled back away from his would-be victim. He tried to hide the noise that tumbled from his throat, entirely too akin to a soft sob. And maybe it was one. For as much as he had wanted to at the start, when truly faced with his actions, he didn't want to be a killer. Even if Gamzee and Eridan had done it first, at least in the Veil, would that make him any better?