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♑ ♦ ♋ | It helps to think we're sleeping underneath the same big sky
Who: Gamzee Makara (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
420) & Karkat Vantas (bethehugejerk)
When: After Gamzee figures out Mrs Brisby is gone.
Where: Some frosty ass beach.
Style: This one?
Status: Closed.
It had been reflex, really. He had read the letter because... well, that was what you did with letter with your motherfuckin' namewords on them, right? He had read it and then... just reflex. He had shrugged on his coat, pulled on his sneakers and set out. No thinking, just moving. The fact that his SFC was still on the table was just pure accident. It hadn't been done with no sort of firm intention. While he normally was at least half decent about lugging it along, it was real sorts of hard thinking about the little shit like that with your pan threatening to get its numb on.
The winter wind was cold and prickled on his tongue like salt. It pulled through his loose curls at random --hats, like communicators, were easily forgot-- nipping at the long line of his ears with ferocity. Gamzee had no idea how long he had been standing there just like that. He didn't hold with wearing watches, didn't seem any sort of fair to be locking down time in some little wrist box, but the way his fingers twitched faintly probably did all get its meaning on like it was time to get him to a new dose of slime.
Still, he didn't move, instead just staring out over the ocean.
420) & Karkat Vantas (bethehugejerk)When: After Gamzee figures out Mrs Brisby is gone.
Where: Some frosty ass beach.
Style: This one?
Status: Closed.
It had been reflex, really. He had read the letter because... well, that was what you did with letter with your motherfuckin' namewords on them, right? He had read it and then... just reflex. He had shrugged on his coat, pulled on his sneakers and set out. No thinking, just moving. The fact that his SFC was still on the table was just pure accident. It hadn't been done with no sort of firm intention. While he normally was at least half decent about lugging it along, it was real sorts of hard thinking about the little shit like that with your pan threatening to get its numb on.
The winter wind was cold and prickled on his tongue like salt. It pulled through his loose curls at random --hats, like communicators, were easily forgot-- nipping at the long line of his ears with ferocity. Gamzee had no idea how long he had been standing there just like that. He didn't hold with wearing watches, didn't seem any sort of fair to be locking down time in some little wrist box, but the way his fingers twitched faintly probably did all get its meaning on like it was time to get him to a new dose of slime.
Still, he didn't move, instead just staring out over the ocean.
no subject
Just as easily, he could have forgotten his sylladex somewhere. He was always forgetting something.
But it was time, you see. In the clockwork tick of time came the charts laid out by Wataru's careful work, and with those the regular dose of slime that kept Gamzee docile. Issues put plain, he was an addict, with Karkat his sanctioned enabler for the greater good. The point, in turn, was that Gamzee wouldn't forget forever. He'd have to feel the craving and come back, grab himself a pie or a snack coated in the stuff, and get back to him. So when he still didn't, Karkat figured he had to find him.
It wound up happening on the second trip out. The first had ended, after asking locals for sightings of a dumbass in clown makeup with crazy hair, with him heading back home to change. The shirt he switched to a sweater; to that he added a coat, hat, gloves, and scarf. Then he set across town with the island in mind.
The beach, he figured after arrival, was where he should start. Gamzee always did like it, with the familiarity it brought, and besides: it was first from the elevator. With hands stuffed into pockets and crab hat pulled snug on his head (thanks Rose), he stormed out across the sand.
And he found him.
"The fuck are you sitting out here for, dumbass? You trying to freeze?" From where he spotted him, Karkat strolled up to stand beside him. "You missed your slime."
no subject
Which was about as glaring an indicator as Karkat was going to get that shit was not all right with Gamzee. The eternal junkie not jumping for his motherfuckin' drugs? Something's up.
Some might consider it odd that he had not gone to Karkat with this, but in the end, lacking lusii was never something they had much talked about. Which made it so much easier for Gamzee to just revert back to the same behaviour pattern he had held for his entire wigglerhood, to fall back in the passive, patient role of just assuming vigil somewhere and wait for someone to return to him. After all, he had learned very early on that tears and tantrums did not actually bring your lusus back even a wit quicker. The idea that there existed a reasonable middle ground between over the top tantrums and not dealing with your grief was just not something that had occurred to him.
sorry for my slowness
Once situated in the sand, he slipped an arm around his middle.
"What the hell happened?"
No worries.
no subject
[He reads the one addressed to him first. His eyebrows scrunch in. What's this about? But he has an unsettling worry in the pit of his stomach, since it seems unlikely that she'd just leave him a letter for no reason when Starfish Communicators exist. And there is, of course, Gamzee's own state... so when he opens his letter in turn, the answer that comes with it is no surprise.]
Shit. I didn't know she thought of you like that.
[And a part of it's weird, for a mouse to call him her son, but another really isn't. Replace mother with lusus, and know Gamzee's lot with the old goat... It's really not unthinkable. Again Karkat throws his arm around him, to hug him more firmly this time. His gaze stays anchored down at the papers in his lap.]
I'm a dumbass. I check the list of people from our world each night to see if anyone's gone, but here I never thought to check for anyone else. I should have known.
[For all he was never as close to Mrs. Brisby as Gamzee was, it's still not great to lose a friend.]
no subject
Ain't on you, my brother. Couldn't do that stuff anyway. You'd be way to fuckin' busy checkin' lists to be checkin' out where life be at, yo.
[He quiets then, pulling his knees up to his chest and leaning his chin on them.]
Bet she's happy. Going back home. She missed those lil' dudes a hers like some shit fierce, I know she did.
no subject
Maybe you're right.
[He rubs his hand over Gamzee's back as he huddles up.]
I didn't know her well, but she seemed like she would have been a good custodian.
no subject
Yeah, she was. She fuckin' knew shit, man. Like, all this fuckin' crazy ass stuff as to manners and how a motherfucker done should keep a lil' sheet for his nose on his wicked self all the motherfuckin' time cause that shit's proper. Gotta fuckin' see and speak at her all the motherfuckin' time too.
[Which, considering how little he had really seen of his Ol' Goat, was a rather strange and marvellous thing to Gamzee. And clearly Mrs Brisby's etiquette lessons hadn't exactly penetrated Gamzee's skull very deeply, but... he does have a handkerchief on him all the time now.]
no subject
It's called a handkerchief, Gamzee. May my gratitude transcend the cosmos that she managed to instill some manner of personal decorum onto you.
[Meanwhile he keeps rubbing his back, slow, steady, and calm. It makes a nice reminder (besides his voice, and his sitting there) that he's right there with him, not going anywhere.]
She lived in your hive, right? It was good of you to take her in when she was as small as she was. Made a nice safe place for her.
no subject
[He presses his head closer against Karkat's, managing to push it into the dip between his head and shoulder. Entirely comfortable? No. But very comforting.]
Wataru always said like, any motherfucker what done needed it could get to hanging out at our crib, no biggie. It just seemed like some manner of niceness what he would've given her too.
]He pauses for a moment, before adding.]
It's real fuckin' nice living with loads of peeps anyway. Always a motherfucker there to be getting your speak on with if you want it.