vatheon | ♑ & ♒ > Help, I can't get this seaman off my clown.

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♑ & ♒ > Help, I can't get this seaman off my clown.

Who: Gamzee Makara and Eridan Ampora and possibly Karkat Vantas.
Where: Eridan and Karkat's house.
When: About five minutes before Eridan's favourite show is about to start.
Style: ][
Status: Closed.

[So far Gamzee has been blissfully unaware of the curse. This is not special. Gamzee is blissfully unaware of a lot of things. Did you know that thingy on the end of your shoe lace is called an aglet? Gamzee doesn't.

Anyway, blissed out and blissfully unaware of things, Gamzee strolls across the street to Eridan and Karkat's hive, DVD in hand. Karkat has forbidden him, with many impressive threats of physical violence, to ever put one of his DVDs in his sylladex. Something about not wanting to lose them. Which Gamzee thought was pretty silly cause Karkat got a whole pile of other DVDs to watch if one got stuck for a lil' while, but he can roll with it.

So yeah, he got a Thresh Prince DVD in one clowny mitt, a sunny smile on his face and no worries in the world, as he strolls up to the door of Karkat and Eridan's hive, ringing the door chime.]

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[Gamzee is certainly not going to be moving fast enough here. Especially not when that foot to the stomach takes him completely by surprise. He oofs a little, but maybe if it'll help Eridan pull his hand off, it's okay? Maybe. Ow.

Wait. He'll help.

Planting his feet more firmly against the ground and using his grip on the door post he gives their stuck hands a mighty yank, trying to free them.]

Bro, what you fuckin' covered up with?

[Cause clearly Eridan is covered with some sticky shit, right? Maybe fancy hair stuff. That was kinda sticky.]

[Yeah, even with Gamzee's aid, it does nothing but pull on their arms an uncomfortable amount. After a moment of trying again, Eridan lowers his foot and glares at the clown.]

What am I cowered with? Nothin' you absolute fuckin' idiot! If anythin' you'we probably got fuckin' sticky ass nubs from your pie eatin'! Do you not ewen know how to wash your fuckin' hands? Ridiculous!

[Though, in all honestly, Eridan knows it can't be something like that... Sopor doesn't get this sticky, though he's never felt cooked sopor before, but that hardly matters! He's certain that can't be it, and nothing he's touched made his hands so sticky to the point of no escape. So what the fuck is going on???]

No, I didn't...

[If Eridan isn't careful, or doesn't react quick enough, Gamzee jerks their stuck together hands up to his face, absently trying to lick his fingers. He can't remember eating pie? Licking his fingers would solve the mystery either way.

No manners, at all. Also no realization yet that this could be a curse.]

[Eridan opens his mouth to say something back--but no, all that leaves him is an unflattering shriek of disgust as he jerks his hand back as hard as he can to avoid that clown tongue at all costs! HE IS NOT GOING TO ALLOW GAMZEE TO PUT THAT NASTY THING ON HIS PRECIOUS FINGERS!!!!]

DON'T YOU FUCKIN' LICK ME!!

[This all just mostly ends up with Gamzee's mouth and tongue impacting with his arm with an undignified bluh-ish noise. Not that he really seems all too bothered. He just fishes up the hem of his shirt to wipe away the drool, giving Eridan a calm, patient look.]

Aight, aight. Was just gonna get my see on for whether or not a motherfucker done filled his gullet up good with the wicked pie-magic. Cause a motherfucker can't up and be gettin' his remember on for that...

You can't ewen remember--Gam. Forget it, I doubt it's somethin' so stupid anyways. And it's not somethin' I hawe on me, I'm hygienic, unlike SOME trolls.

[Have a snobby look after that, he's just emphasizing his point. But then he casts a forlorn look at their stuck fingers.]

We gotta figure out how to get unstuck, I cannot bare bein' stuck to you all fuckin' day! I think I'd hawe a fuckin' melt down. C'mon, inside, grab that also.

[He gestures to the DVD he dropped. Maybe there's something inside they can do to try and get rid of this unfortunate situation, or maybe Karkat can help once he's home...]

[Hey, he takes his daily baths too. But whatever. He lets the comment just roll off his back, instead reaching up to pat Eridan on the shoulder.

Or at least that is what he tries. In reality it ends up a lot more convoluted, with him first raising the hand stuck to Eridan's, pausing when he feels the drag, then purposely switching to his other hand to clap it on Eridan's shoulder.]

Hey, woah, cool your motherfuckin' party jets, aight? We just gotta chill a lil'. I'm like... real fuckin' positive all like we ain't gonna be stuck on to the whole motherfuckin' day. Got a good feel for matters all pertaining what to that. So us motherfuckers just gotta fuckin' be chillin' with it like some real wicked-ass icetoids, just fuckin' roll with it, you got?

[He gives him a smile.]

Listen, brother. Hows about you just alls do what the motherfucker what you does normally get to doing and I'll be none to fuckin' bother, yeah? Won't all to be hearing no motherfuckin' honk outta this brother, that I swear you.

Edited 2012-12-05 19:05 (UTC)

[That whole patting on the shoulder thing was odd and annoying and Eridan has a feeling today is just going to suck entirely too fucking much. And then Gamzee tl;drs him about shit and he can hardly ever understand this damn clown and his way of speaking. Honestly, he just stares at him flatly, except for the glare he gave when he touched his shoulder. Then there's that last bit and he gives Gamzee a very suspicious look, one that screams I don't fuckin' beliewe you.]

Not one fuckin' honk?

Edited 2012-12-05 19:11 (UTC)

[Gamzee just returns the look with an earnest one. Not that that needs special pointing out because his looks are just about always utterly earnest.]

Not the single motherfuckin' own. Quiet like a the most baller ninjester.

[Again, a long stare... But then he looks away from him in a snooty manner, scrunching his nose a bit.]

I'm gonna hold you to your fuckin' word, Gam. Now pick that up and lets get inside, I was tryin't to read before you disturbed me.

[It is almost like Eridan doesn't trust him or something.

Leaning down, Gamzee scoops up the DVD safely --Karkat would probably just like... explode if he saw it lying there on the ground-- before giving him a relaxing smile once more.]

Aight.

[Why would you think he doesn't trust him! I mean come on, who else could Eridan trust if he can't trust this idiotic clown, right?]

[He watches him get the DVD, and then promptly turns, careful of how he turns so that they don't get wrapped up each others arms, to lead them inside, closing the door behind them and making his way to the couch. He sits promptly and motions for Gamzee to do the same. Using his free arm to reach for his book and open it there after. Man, this is going to be awkward no matter what. Eugh.]

Gam, now we're gonna hawe to cooperate for me to be able to read my fuckin' book, so when I go to mowe our arms, don't be a fuckin useless brinesucker, alright? Don't hinder me in turnin' my pages.

[That bit is accompanied by a stern stare. He is srs, Gamzee. If you hinder his book reading there will be HELL to pay!!]

[Gamzee lets himself be directed by Eridan, docile as a bleatbeast on a leash. He sits when instructed, ending up in an artless sprawl of long limbs that shouldn't be comfortable but utterly is so to Gamzee. At least he isn't laying upside down again.]

Sure thing, brother.

[And then, despite his promise to be as quiet as a mouse--]

What ya readin'?

[Eridan just sighs at Gamzee's uncomfortable mess of a position, but it's not much of a problem since it isn't wrenching Eridan's arm in some uncomfortable manner or anything. The moron can sit how he likes, he supposes. He just starts on the page he left off, maybe a few sentences in and--]

Gam. What happened to not a fuckin' honk? Sure, that's not a honk, but the implications a silence were there.

[He glares over at him as he speaks.]

But it's called "Sea of Regret", it's a historically influenced nowel of romantic intrigue, it entails a sweepin' an' forbidden romance between a seadweller captain and his landdwellin' underling, and it's filled with bitter betrayal, an' enthrallin' suspense, accurate historical references, and about ewerythin' a pan-stunted moron like you wouldn't be able to appreciate.

[With that, he turns back to his book.]

So shut up, it's gettin' to the good part.

Edited 2012-12-05 20:16 (UTC)

Fuck, yeah, sorry, man. Totally all fuckin' slipped from me. I'll up and fuckin' hushed up now.

[He just gets curious sometimes, ok.

But to show that he is really meaning to be good here, he resumes his sprawl against the couch, looking pretty chill and serene for his ridiculous position.]

Sorry.

[As Gamzee continues speaking, Eridan just stares at him with this annoyed expectant look, and then when he gives that final sorry, he DRAMATICALLY and slowly turns back to his book, because it wasn't obvious enough that he wants to read. YEP, he isn't even replying, just reading.]

[He dun even care, man.

Instead he just sits there, chill as a fiddle as the weird earth saying goes. After a few moments, he straightens a little, a suddenly wash of colour spilling over his face as he fumbles with his sylladex. Roughly seven empty bottle of faygo come spilling out onto his lap, while he withdraws a new full bottle of it, and after a moment, a second one. And even as he is shoving empty bottles back into his ~~death trap~~ modus, he holds out one bottle to Eridan.]

Want one?

[When the array of colors spills over Gamzee's face, Eridan glances over at him, disgruntled. He knew he wouldn't get any peace and quiet with this clown around and--He's offering him soda. Eridan looks at the Faygo, then to Gamzee's face, glare withstanding.]

What I want is to read.

[A brief pause, a roll of his eyes, gotta let that sink in, and then...]

But yes I will take one.

[Because Faygo isn't bad, even if it isn't all that good either. Cue Eridan putting his book down a moment to take the bottle, tugging Gamzee's arm over as he opens it, doing all of this in an exaggerated grumpy way. And after his first sip of it, he places it on the coffee table, grabs his book and continues where he left off.]

[Gamzee completely ignores the grumpiness. Karkat is his moiral. Equius is his matesprit. Between the two of them, grouchy faces are par du jour for him. Instead he just dopily smiles at Eridan accepting his offered bottle of Faygo, cause fuck, there is nothing better than drinking with your bros, right? Nothing at all.

Once Eridan has his nose back in the book, Gamzee moves to twist open his own bottle, tugging Eridan's hand to the side. He isn't even doing it maliciously. He's just oblivious. And really, being stuck is kinda silly, but actually... this is kinda nice, really. Chilling with his bro and all.]

[It was then the dreadmiral saw him, bare and ready for-- Or that's what Eridan would be reading, if it wasn't for that tug from Gamzee, pulling his attention, YET AGAIN, from his precious book. Good parts, he was at them. He lets out an annoyed snort as he scrunches his nose up in Gamzee's direction. Of course he can open his own soda, tugging Gamzee's arm without a second thought, but when Gamzee goes to do the same? SUCH an offense! He just stares at him, stares, because obviously Gamzee is really good at picking up social cues.]

[What? Is someone staring at him? Gamzee wouldn't be able tell for how he is just sitting there, staring at the faint flicker and play of dustmotes in the air, scratching the tip of one claw across the tip of his nose, occasionally taking a sip of faygo.]

Gam.

[Yeah that certainly is irritation in his voice. If looks could kill right now, Gamzee's skeleton would be dust by now.]

[Even that probably wouldn't kill him lets be fair here.

He glances up, looking just a little confused.]

Huh? What's up?

I need my arm back.

[Yeah he's just STARING AT HIM. Flicking his eyes at the arm in question, then locking eyes with the clown. God, he could just strangle Gamzee sometimes.]

Wha--

[His eyes cross as he peers down his nose. And wow. Yeah. That sure is Eridan's hand kinda hovering near his face cause he was scratching his snout. Whoops.]

Haha, shit. Sorry, man. You know how it be fuckin' like when your sniffnode got that wicked itch going down.

[He pulls his hand away, letting it go sort of limp so Eridan can pull his arm back.]

Here you go, motherfucker. All yours.

[Have a silent and stern stare, Gamzee. Not that it means much to you anyways, but man Eridan is convinced his staring totally helps reinforce everything!! When Gamzee lets his arm go limp, Eridan pointedly jerks his arm towards the book, as if that'd punctuate his irritation or something. Surely a gesture lost on Gamzee anways.]

It's not that hard to remember what the fuck you're supposed to be doin' Gam, it's not like this is rocket science.

[Not that Gamzee gets basic science, but... whatever.]

Woah, no, dude.

[Gamzee holds up his one free hand, shaking his head.]

Ain't not need to be speaking of such motherfuckin' distateness, aight? Science.

[He says it like it is the worst thing on earth.]

You know like what that motherfuckin' heretical, wonder-snatching bizznasty isn't my fuckin' scene.

[Eridan nearly was turned back to his book, and then Gamzee had to go on and talk some more. Augh.]

You only don't like science because it educates you and you like resistin' education at all bloody costs. I honestly don't understand what's so satisfyin' about bein' a ignorant fuckin' fool.

[With that nearly spat out, he looks back to his book finally.]

There's more wonder in science than there ewer will be in your fraudulent miracles.

[It would suit Eridan better if he'd just shut up. Then Gamzee wouldn't keep answering back.]

Brother, if that all be like how your faith does say to you how you gotta motherfuckin' be rolling with this shit, I'm real down with that. You gotta be goin' with what does feel right, yeah?

[He takes a good sip.]

But that motherfuckin' fallacy ain't my goddamn thang, aight? Makes a brother's pump sore to consider it to be so. But that's chill, you know. World does all need miracles in alls sorts of being to be-s, bros what see them, and bros what don't. It's all good.

The only fallacy is your fuckin' bullshit fakey fake miracles! There is nothin' but truth in science and the sooner you'd realize that the sooner eweryone would be better off. But, you're fuckin' stubborn and enjoy bein' left in your deslusions, so whatewer.

[He grumpily turns the page of his book, really he isn't even reading it anymore, he's too annoyed.]

And there's no faith in science, just facts. Which is more than what you hawe.

Awww, motherfucker. Science just... Science just don't all get not fuckin' down at to the real motherfuckin' down low knowing of things, you get?

[Another sip, then an idea and he presents the bottle to Eridan.]

Like. Could science all be explaining where faygo comes from? You know it ain't got that understanding. Fresh squeezed all from the motherfuckin' miracles of life is where.

[Silence.]

Gam, Faygo ain't anythin' special, science could definitely explain where it comes from.

[How is he having this conversation?]

I'm fairly certain people make Faygo, no different than you make, say, omeletes or any other food item. It's just a fuckin' bewerage.

[Gamzee gives him a look, before setting down his faygo for a moment and reaches over to press his fingers to Eridan's lips.]

No. Shoosh. Quell what noise be flowing all unabided from your word hole, my brother. It's miracles. Straight-up, broad-sided miracles.

Gam--

[And now there are fingers on his mouth. There are clown fingers on his mouth. There are possibly dirty, clown fingers on his mouth. Nope. Nopenopenopenopenopenopenope!!!]

[Eridan flails his arm, the one connected to Gamzee's other hand, and lets out a few aggravated snarls and quite possibly is aiming to hit that hand with the spine of his book.]

Keep your filthy fuckin' PRONGS off my MOUTH, or next time I'll chomp them clean off!

[Except, he won't, because again he has no idea where those filthy butt-scratchers have been!]

[These are the fingers that have been on Equius' sweaty ass. Through clothes! But still.]

Woah, aight, aight, cool your anger-jets.

[He pulls back, resuming his early position, dropping his hand back to his lap again.]

See, we cool. We fuckin' chill here.

[He eyes him, long and hard...]

[Then he turns back to his book.]

We're cool so long as you keep your fuckin' prongs to yourself--that is, as much as you are able to, considerin' the current circumstance.

I like bein' cool with you.

[After which he lapses into silence. If Eridan doesn't keep the conversation going, Gamzee is more than happy to sit there, staring slightly glazed into nothing, occasionally sipping from his bottle of faygo (with his unstuck hand, of course) until all of the sugar drink is gone down his clowny gullet.]

Edited (HOLY SHIT WAS THAT EVER THE WRONG ICON) 2013-01-04 00:48 (UTC)

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♑ & ♒ > Help, I can't get this seaman off my clown.

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