exsilium | 003

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003 - Text

so it seems its that time where they r bringing in new recruists and it got me thinking
how do they know waht ppl to being in?
* bring
i mean is it totally random and they dont even know wtf is being brought in
or is there throught proceess behind it?
also what if you are literally stoot in a group of ppl at the time and only 1 gets brought in
like hmm we have this cute guy w/glasses here who all sorts of knows how to shoot guns and has daily fighting practice w/robobs and animals
or the sweet girl thats heiress to an evil empire and survives all these assassinasstion attempts shed b so cool 2 have
or the evne hotter guy w/ rad ninja sword skills who a better fighter than anyboby weve seen who could build us deadaly robots
but no
screw them we will leave them all there
lets take that drunk girl right there who was dead just a min ago since she obvs has all the skills an winning army needs

so does anybody know at all
i mean mayeb it was mentioned before and i wasnt really lsitenign or something idk
* lisgtening
..
* listening
ha take that red squiggley line

i guess i just wondered why it was me that got brought here
and i miss my freinds :(

p.s. hi 2 all new peeps if id idnt say hi already

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[Wow, okay.

When he goes off like that, Karkat will immediately back off to get out of mauling range. But once he has a good idea of what Gamzee is doing, he'll come forward again and reaching to put his hand on Gamzee's face. So much for taking this slow, but he can't let him ruin his respiteblock or start self-destructing.]

Shoosh.

You need. To calm the fuck down.

[And he stops, just like that. Like that point of contact freezes every muscle in his body. He's trembling, shaking with rage and hurt and more than a little fear, but makes no attempt to even lower his arm from the last aborted blow.

At least until Karkat speaks. He lowers his arms to his side, head bowed for a moment, almost leaning into the touch, and then he looks up and nearly screams.]

NOW YOU'RE GOING TO UP AND GET GONE TOO! MOTHERFUCKING don't

don't--

[Because they always leave. Always.]

Shoosh.

[He says it again, and paps his face for good measure.]

This is how it's going to be. I'm going to shoosh your worthless clown ass to fucking conciliatory nirvana, and then we are going to kick the shit out of moirallegience. If you want that, it's your choice, but it isn't your choice to calm down.

And I'm not going anywhere, dumbshit, not if I can help it.

[He doesn't say anything right away, just breathing in ragged, uneven gasps. His hands are clenched into fists hard enough to drive his jagged nails into his palms but slowly, slowly they unclench. His eyes are wide and uncertain, and his voice comes out small and barely a whisper.]

...really mean that? Get down with all promising?

I promise. If it's under my control at all, I won't leave you. I can't exactly promise when it comes to being suddenly transported across universes against my will, but this is the best I can do.

[He relaxes a little more, shoulders sagging and his head dropping. His hands are listless at his sides and the only thing that keeps him from flopping ragdoll all over the floor is his locked knees--and even that doesn't look like it'll stay a sure thing.

He sounds tired, not just physically but mentally and emotionally.]

You didn't come. Got all kinds of waiting for you. Best friend will come, I told at me. Best friend will come bring all the wicked understandings. Get down all on those motherfuckers what hurt us and be good again.

You never came.

I'm sorry.

[He really does look like he means it; it's not exactly something he had control over, or was aware was happening, or occurred in his timeline, but he still can't help feel guilty hearing that.]

I'm really sorry. Not just for that, for a lot of things.

[And he just lurches forward. It's almost a spastic movement and he really doesn't quite know what he's doing. It's supposed to be a hug, but he holds too tightly and doesn't seem sure where to put his arms.

Up close he smells like a sick-room, blood new and old, stale sweat and a faint mustiness of poorly washed clothes.]

Couldn't get my mad on at you long, Karkat. Best motherfucking friend.

[He'll hug him back, ignoring the awkwardness and the smell besides a vague conviction to force him to take a shower.]

I know, I know. I'm here for you now, at least. Okay?

Okay.

[The tension is bleeding out of him and his hold isn't quite so painfully tight. Slowly, he is relaxing and calming down.]

Don't be letting them take the color. Keep your lookstubs all wide up for that.

[Calm, yes. Lucid...well. He's working on it.]

The walls? Painting with your blood is going to stop, it's disgusting. There's a thing called paint.

[Said in a more soothing tone than a harsh one.]

Not what I can find. Fish sister up and got what I have.

[And that paint set is all but gone already. But he says that softly, almost dreamy. Being so relaxed after so long tense in one way or another is good. He actually feels like he could sleep and actually maybe even rest.]

I'll find something else for you. And we'll get you cleaned up, because you look like shit.

[Finding ways to be useful! It's not like him to really be comfortable relaxing, but it makes him pretty happy to have his moirail here and to be able to take care of him.]

Best friend--

[He sounds so happy at that, though he goes sheepish almost immediately.]

I got ablutions on-- Uh.

No time in recent history. But now, you will. Go.

[Easier said than done, honestly. It takes him a little bit before he can step back and let go. But then he starts shuffling towards the bathroom.

Just very, very slowly with lots of glancing back. Just checking! Also he doesn't seem to have any other clothes with him. Or towels. Well, maybe there's soap in the bathroom, at least?]

Kicking some wicked scrubbing soon.

[Eeugh, looking around for supplies and there aren't any. Making a mental shopping list but for now.]

Just rinse off, I'll go get some towels and shit.

Okay. I'll be right up in here. Not going to be nowhere else until you get to returning here.

[He says that like a reassurance, but it sounds like he's trying to reassure himself more than Karkat.

And with that he finally disappears into the bathroom, but he leaves the door partway open. He remembers to take his clothes off first, and well, there is soap so he proceeds to scrub all of himself down with it. Then his clothes. It's for Karkat so he's trying to be thorough.]

[Karkat will duck out and go looking around for supplies, it will probably be a good twenty minutes before he gets back. But he'll come back with a clean towel, some shampoo and a hair brush, and some antiseptic and band-aids.]

[Gamzee has just shuffled out of the bathroom in very wet clothes when Karkat returns. His face lights up and the little honk is a sound of relief.]

Karkat! Got my self all scrubbed up in here, bro.

[His clothes probably still have soap bubbles in places, and he's managed to scrub open anything that was just scabbed over and not any further healed. And without the makeup his cheeks are a little sunken and there are purple bags under his eyes.]

[Tossing the towel at him! And...immediately checking around the room for any clean clothes.]

Did you really, actually just put sopping wet clothes back onto your body? Or did you, in fact, take your ablution with them still on?

Do you have anything clean and preferably dry anywhere? If you stay in those, they will get bacterial and you will get sick.

[Gamzee catches the towel without even blinking and pats at his face a bit. It doesn't really help because his hair is soaking wet, and hasn't been cut in almost a year.]

Didn't be up and thinking a brother could get his wander on without clothes. I don't got no motherfucking digs to be in but these.

[He pauses for a while, looking vague--trying to go through what's left in his sylladex. He doesn't spot any clothes, but that doesn't mean there isn't somewhere...]

I think.

[Facepalm.]

Fine, we'll get you more clothes, too. If there is literally nothing else in this entire block, then at least take them off and wear the towel. Or borrow shit from the humans who live here, or whatever you want to do.

[He looks around for a moment, glancing at the doors to the other rooms before brightening and heading to the far wall of his, half obscured by stuff.]

I can get my borrow on. Knowing just what bitch to be having extra clothes--

[There is a hole in the wall. There is no way that hole was cut by anything that wasn't a chainsaw. The room on the other side definitely belongs to a fashionista and Gamzee can just barely squeeze through the hole.]

[F...ollowing...

He'll crawl through the hole much less gracefully.]

Is this Kanaya's room?

You can't look through Kanaya's stuff.

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