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

[420]

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.]

Comments

[unconchonable]

Gam.

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

[420]

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

He glances up, looking just a little confused.]

Huh? What's up?

[unconchonable]

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.]

[420]

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.

[unconchonable]

[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.]

[420]

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.

[unconchonable]

[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.

[420]

[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.

[unconchonable]

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.

[420]

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.

[unconchonable]

[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.

[420]

[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.

[unconchonable]

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!]

[420]

[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.

[unconchonable]

[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.

[420]

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.]