vatheon | ♑ > I'm forever blowing bubbles, pretty bubbles in the air.

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♑ > I'm forever blowing bubbles, pretty bubbles in the air.

Who: Gamzee (

420) & you
Where: The plaza
When: Afternoon
Style: anything goes
Status: Open!

[Anyone that might visit the coral today might notice that the plaza is really... bubbly. And not in the happy cheerful mood way. Well, maybe that too, but really it is literally bubbly, filled with big fat bubbles floating lazily on the air until they eventually pop in mid air. Or against buildings. Or people.

Or are eaten by a busily honking goose wandering around the plaza. There is that too.

The cause of all the bubbles is sitting calmly, contently, on the edge of the fountain, one leg tucked underneath him, an army worth of bubble wands and soap water next to him. Bubble wands are really not an Alternian thing at all --what battle-focused, cut throat society would go through the trouble of discovering bubble wands?-- and this new discovery has left Gamzee pleased as pie. Occasionally he reaches up, popping a few bubbles with his claws, before adding more to the air.

Anyone, of course, is free to join him. In fact, if Gamzee happens to be your buddy, he might very well have send a text earlier stating nothing else but 'BuBbLeS! MoThErFuCkIn bUbBlEs **eVeRyWhErE**!'. Today is exciting, ok?]

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[Gamzee just trails after him like a loyal, though very wet woofbeast.]

It's a brother's devotion. That shit be wicked fuckin' important.

[Once he has them, Karkat handles over a couple towels to Gamzee. The man was generous, as soaked as they look. He drapes one over his own head, then pats at his limbs and torso with another, trying to soak up the water.]

So what, are you just going to sit down and paint your face here once you're moderately less damp?

That were the motherfuckin' plan, yeah.

[Gamzee just start vigorously rubbing his hair dry. It'll probably make it look like more of a mess than normal, but that is not really a concern for Gamzee.]

You're going to tangle your hair that way, stupid.

[Not that Karkat is a master of hair styling, but he takes care of it some - namely, "comb it and then let it do what it wants." It's probably no good now, though, still a bit damp and helpless even after he (more gently than his moirail) towels it off.]

I don't even know why I asked now. Of course you're going to paint your face right here. If a hurricane ever came to the island and whipped the paint from your face, you'd probably just find a spot behind a tree and repaint it there, wouldn't you?

Edited 2012-08-28 13:48 (UTC)

Well, shit, all up and sounds to me like a motherfuckin' happenance in which a motherfucker needs his faith more than ever.

[He really doesn't care about his tangled hair, moving on to pat the rest of himself dry. He even takes his shirt off for a moment to wring the water out, while giving his pants an almost thoughtful look. Should he...]

It's a "motherfuckin' happenance" where a certain shitpanned moirail would need to get his ass out of danger and forget the paint until he's somewhere safe!

[He turns to him, frowning sternly.]

You promise me, if there's ever so much as a particularly unruly storm up on that island, you either get your polkadotted behind back down to the bubble, or else you stay down here and don't go up to see what's happening. You got me?

--And don't you dare take your pants off! Everyone in the Plaza would go blind, starting with me and radiating outward in an ever-expanding ring until not one person in Vatheon can see for the blight of clown butt assaulting their optics.

[Wow. Gosh. okay. Not taking his pants off today. Man, he's wearing underwear and everything, Karkat. He's not a complete shame-less heathen. ~~today~~

Instead what he does is drape his damn shirt over his shoulder for a moment, patting his cool hands against Karkat's cheeks.]

Shoosh, stand down on your worrying front, my best motherfucker. I done seen enough motherfuckin' storms to last. If shit like that fuckin' goes down, I ain't got no reason for being there unless life be all about giving me one.

[Like... Karkat being stuck in it could be a reason. But other than that he is just fine chilling somewhere relaxing. He doesn't have a death wish, okay.]

[Gamzee this isn't shoosh worthy. With a roll of his eyes, Karkat gently swats his hands away.]

Fine, then you're not as much of an idiot as you could be. Good job, you're basically functional.

[He points toward his face.]

But if you're going to do your paint then hurry up and get it done. I'm cold, and unlike you and your shame deficiency, I'm keeping my shirt on, so the sooner you get it done the sooner we can go back to our hives and change.

[Maybe he just likes patting Karkat's cheeks. Sometimes he kinda looks like a nutbeast to him, okay.]

Aight. Come on and sit your fuckin' rump down by me though. I can't do this shit standing up.

[Which he demonstrates by wandering towards a nice bench far away from any potential watertraps. Using the towel, he quickly gets rid of any of the wet, running paint on his face, before he digs in his sylladex to retrieve his emergency paint set and little mirror.]

[Rude, Gamzee. He's a troll, not a nut creature!]

Yeah, I'm coming.

[To the bench, then. He follows along beside him, still carrying his own towels, then takes a seat. While his moirail sets to preparing himself for the reapplication of his "face", he takes to patting his jeans drier than they were. It won't be as good as changing into something completely dry, but it's better than leaving them soaked as they were.]

It's still weird seeing you act neat and tidy about anything.

[holding his little (purple) hand mirror in one hand, he meanwhile balances his paints on his knee, while using one of the sponges to re-apply the white where it has run. His brushes are waiting for him too, so he can fix up the more detailed parts of his design once he is done, each brush in peak condition despite having been used quite a lot.]

Cause it's important in a way all that other shit don't even come close to mattering like.

[Karkat watches him some in between patting at his legs. In time he quits that task, leaving the damp towel draped over his legs like a small blanket, as his attention gets absorbed in Gamzee's work.]

What's the important part about it, anyway? Does the design even mean anything beyond "whoop whoop, I'm a Faygo-chugging stardust-sprinkler"?

[Gamzee doesn't answer immediately, instead continueing to run the paint brush over his bottom lip, until it is completely dark. Only then he turns to Karkat.]

Sure. You get a whole motherfuckin' troupe of clowns all at the same place, and you can up and tell where exactly they is being at, what motherfuckin' fealty they paid and what motherfuckin' fealty still be their dues.

[He looks at him solidly for a moment. Then:]

What?

Edited 2012-09-02 19:38 (UTC)

[He snorts a laugh for a moment, but more than happily explains.]

Rank, brother, I meant rank.

Like on one end you got to having... all the lil' brothers being up and like what I was gonna be, I guess; little brothers what ain't know their fuckin' husk-end from their sponges when it comes to the real full truths of this faith shit, with nugs waiting to be filled with the wicked information.

And then on the other fuckin' prong you got the aged motherfuckers, yeah? The ones what up and got the scriptures carved into husk, horn and bone. The ones what really know how this wicked shit be kicked.

[Yeahhh eyes glazing over here. He's not sure why he bothered now.]

I would ask what the ranks even mean, but I have a sneaking suspicion that I give no more fucks than I normally do. You have either lucked out, or encountered great disappointment, but either way I am spared. Yours forever means "I'm a clown-faced nookwhiffer" to me. If nothing else, you're distinctive.

[So close to finding your inner religious believer, Karkat. So close and yet so far.

Luckily Gamzee wasn't particularly expecting a huge religious breakthrough on Karkat's side, so he calmly goes back to fixing his make-up.]

My face ain't really one of theirs, but if that's what you wanna think it's like, I'm cool with that.

[Sorry, man. Even becoming a god won't make him a church-going penitent, however much it might lift some of his disbelief. In some areas.]

[His eyebrow creeps up.]

It's not? Then what's the point?

I never got to being a real initiate, you get? Don't get taken into the motherfuckin' brotherhood proper until you're an adult. So when this bro was being a much littler bro, and he first wanted to all show his Mirthful Ones that he got their truths, I up and all like made up my own design.

[With a practise flick of the wrist he completes the two circles at his temples, before loving his paintbrush, his face intact once more.]

This is my soul's motherfuckin' convent with those what I know to be true. But like, you can all be thinkin' of this shit as dumbass paint, it's cool. All us motherfuckers having to gotten having different truths be what makes this world so motherfuckin' beautiful.

Dumbass paint is what I have, do, and likely always will think about your ridiculous clown design.

[He looks over Gamzee's face. He knows the design by heart by now, that if even a single line were off, he'd know it. He might not care what it means, in the end, but it's still an integral part of his moirail.]

[He holds out his hand as he stands up.]

Come on, let's go back to our hives, because I am done chilling my ass in soggy jeans. And by official pale mandate, you also need to get back and change into something dry.

["Pale mandates" aren't really a thing, but whatever.]

[Maybe not pale mandates, but there is always pale man-dates, the next step on platonic bromance of this level.

Or something.

His stuff disappears into his sylladex once more and he reaches up to grab Karkat's offered hand, letting him help him up.]

Aight, aight. If that be what my brother thinks be best for me, I ain't all got the gumption to argue.

I do think so. If we don't change back, being cold and damp will probably land us each with some disgusting earth illness again, which I refuse to let happen.

[Letting go of his hand, Karkat looks about the Plaza and back towards the fountain they fell in earlier.]

Unless you've forgotten anything in the course of devious moron antics, let's get moving.

[He certainly wouldn't have minded holding his hand more, but hey, a casual arm draped around the shoulders works just as well. Karkat doesn't actually need personal space, right?]

Naw, I got it.

[He didn't even look around to check. He just... he doesn't really care. It is what it is. He's got what he needs, and if he forgot something he can go back. And if it is gone, well, then it wasn't meant to be his, really. Sometimes your stuff just needs to take a journey all of its own. And that's cool.]

[Karkat frowns, both in combination from the arm about his shoulders (which he allows nonetheless), and Gamzee's quick answer.]

Are you positive? You didn't look. Did you even think about it? Because if you remember something halfway back to Phanga, I'm not turning around just so we can get it.

[He reaches up to ruffle his fingers through Karkat's damp hair for a moment before letting his hand rest there.]

I'm sure. It's cool, aight? If it all turns out to fuckin' be like I forgot some shit, I'll up and go back later. Ain't a biggie.

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bethehugejerk - 2012-09-14 08:43 (UTC) - Expand

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420 - 2012-09-16 22:03 (UTC) - Expand

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