♑ & ♋ | You have to live every day like it’s either going to be your last or your best.

[420]

Who: Gamzee Makara and The Signless.
When: Backdated to some time after this post.
Where: Park, lets say the park.
Style: Whichever, brah
Status: Closed.


This afternoon finds Gamzee in the park, sprawled out on his back next to the small pond. His sneakers are laying besides him, discarded in the grass, and his long skinny legs are trailing in the water. The cuffs of his pants had been rolled up to his knees rather clumsily; by now one had already completely unravelled again, trailing in the water of the pond, but Gamzee clearly wasn't too bothered.

Probably cause it is pretty hard to give a shit about things when you got your favourite drugs right next to you.

One bottle of faygo sits opened and half drank next to a half eaten pie. Occasionally Gamzee breaks off a small piece of the pie crust, tossing it blindly into the lake for the big, rather fat goose swimming lazy circles in the water, occasionally diving under the nip at Gamzee's toes. Early today he had managed to unearth his portable music player from the bottom of his sylladex in a surprising twist, as he had completely forgotten he even owned the thing, and it lays on his chest while Gamzee listens to the music blasting into his auricular shells.

Ah, wasn't today a perfect day?

Comments

[onlyasign]

Sounds like there may be more than one feathery asshole at Casa de Highblood.

"Sounds delicious!" And as long as he doesn't look at what goes into said pie, Sufferer should be fine. He walks happily beside Gamzee, only having to lengthen his stride a little to keep up with the longer legged troll. It's cool, he's used to it.

[420]

There is a whole legion of feathery assholes at Casa de Highblood.

It doesn't take them long to get back to Gamzee's place, the trek mostly filled with idle talk. when they get there, Gamzee pushes open the door for Signless (haha, locking doors. Ha) motioning him along inside. "Come on. Lets get you fuckin' set up with this stuff."

Milo is quickly deposited on the couch where he can finish his snooze, while Gamzee heads for the kitchen.

[onlyasign]

Sufferer trails after Gamzee, taking his time and checking out the place. He hasn't spent much time here, out of respect to Darkleer, and he's interested in how people decorate their hives. So far, he's seeing clowns, towels, and hoofbeast themed items. Pretty much what he expected.

He follows Gamzee into the kitchen and sits down in the one of the chairs. "If I like this, will you teach me how to make it?" He's had some of Gamzee's baking before, and it's really good!

[420]

They got some real fuckin delicate feng shui going on here.

Feng swag if you will.

Gamzee's already picking up ingredients and tools they will need. He's made these pies often enough that that part is pretty much second nature to him. A couple of empty, clean tins get deposited on the table, along with a bowl and what, before he pokes his head into the fridge for some of the other things. At Signless' question, his head pops up behind the door for a bit. "Sure yeah. Wouldn't all be opposed to be instructing my finest bro here on how to make some pimp-ass sneeze for his own self. That's what bros are for."

[onlyasign]

So much feng swag.

"Great, thank you!" For now, though, Sufferer is just staying out of Gamzee's way. He has learned, through Psii's adventures with cooking, that it's best for everyone if he stands aside while kitchen magicianing is happening. He can cook! He just makes a giant mess and gets in the way while he does.

So he does the smart thing and leans on his elbows and watches Gamzee. "Have you been doing anything interesting lately?"

[420]

Well, to be honest, make a giant mess is Gamzee's cooking process as well. He'll never be one of those neat and precise cooks. When he cooks, things get knocked over, flour will end up next to the bowl, and sticky fingerprints will cover all the surfaces. And shit, sometimes he even fucks up on what he is trying to make, but that's cool. Ain't no bigger problem than just tossing what went wrong and trying again.

He makes an almost thoughtful noise at Signless's question. "Naw, just chilling, you know? Had me some thought what did occur to me though."

[onlyasign]

Watching Gamzee cook is the polar opposite of watching Psii cook. Psii uses his psionics to make everything extremely precise and neat, ingredients measured down to the grain and items mixed to the perfect consistency. When Sufferer cooks--rarely, since Psii gets upset if anyone messes with his kitchen--it looks much more like what Gamzee is doing. So much so, in fact, that he gets up and starts helpfully stirring and mixing things together.

"Oh? What's on your mind?"

[420]

Gamzee happily shuffles over, making room for Signless. Having someone cook with him is one of his favourite things and he doesn't even care if Signless will make the process better or worse. As long as you are doing anything with your buddies, that is enough.

"Just got to thinkin' like it'd be cool to gather a bunch of motherfuckers together and get to hanging out again, you know?" He dumps in some more flour, not really bothering to make any exact measurements. "Been a long motherfuckin' while since we done that."

[onlyasign]

Sufferer sets to work making a frosting. Frosting is usually for cakes, but who is to say that a pie can't having frosting too? He's seen Psii do it enough times that he thinks he can repeat the process. Famous last words.

"It has been awhile since we did anything like that, hasn't it?" Sufferer starts stirring with gusto. "Seems like the only time we all get together is when there's a crisis of some sort."

[420]

It's fine! Even if Signless ends up royally screwing the well coiffed barkbeast on this one, Gamzee won't mind. He'll just help him toss the shit out and retry again.

"Yeah. Seems like some motherfuckin' pity, yeah? You gotta hang out with your bros when your life is all being great so they can get to making it even greater." He pauses, his face becoming almost a little bit more serious. It's just something he has noticed from observing the network a little, and from going through it himself. "Besides, I got to thinking all like... ain't none of us motherfuckers what can get to predicting on when any of us bros are made to leave this hood, yeah? Seems to me like maybe if we get to fillin' our brainmeats all with the best kind of things to be remembering maybe that'll help a motherfucker out a lil."

He, at least, loves remembering the good memories with Wataru and Mrs Brisby. Zelda too. All his bros who had come and gone. Sure it made his pump ache a lil' some of the motherfuckin' time, but it also helped him get his glad on again.

[onlyasign]

Sufferer can hear the hint of wistfulness in Gamzee's voice, and he stops what he's doing to look at the younger troll. It isn't often that Gamzee tries to be serious--at least, not in Sufferer's experience--so he treats the occasion with all due solemness and listens closely. He can certainly appreciate the sentiment Gamzee's expressing!

"That's a very good point." He moves in for a hug. "I can't think of any better reason to spend time with our friends."

[420]

Oh, hey, hug! Hugs are always great. Gamzee drops a lazy arm around Signless' shoulders, holding his mixing bowl out of the way so it doesn't all end up on his cloak and silly pants. "Got me all plentiful on the good memories of you too, bro. but ain't nothing what says like there can't be even more, right?"

[onlyasign]

You are one to talk, Mr. Giant Polka Dot Clown Pants.

"You can never have enough good memories of your friends." Sufferer lets Gamzee go and turns back to his frosting. "So what kind of pies are we making?"

[420]

It is religious, ok. Don't discriminate against clown religions, that is mean.

Gamzee pauses in his pie preparing to motion with the whisk he had been using to whisk together the batter, naturally splattering some goop on the kitchen table and his clothes. "Only the best motherfuckin' pie what a bro can get his imagination on for. Shit's my all time motherfuckin' fav, you get? The absolute motherfuckin' best for splitting between a pair of choice bros."

[onlyasign]

Maybe the tights are religious in nature too, okay? Haven't you ever heard of the sect of Sufferer's Fine Ass?

Sufferer deftly dodges the goop Gamzee is splattering around, although he manages to get a little of his own frosting on his arm. They are going to completely destroy this kitchen, which would make him feel bad except it seems like this kitchen gets treated this way fairly often. Besides, who can trust a chef that doesn't make a mess? That just seems like you're not trying.

"I can't wait!" Sufferer concentrates on his frosting, trying to whip it to the right consistency, which is harder than it sounds.

[420]

Gamzee is not into whacky cults, thank you.

And he will certainly make Signless eat those words. Served alongside a prime piece of drug-pie. That's what friends do.

He watches Signless try and whip up a stiff batch of frosting, before he sets his own bowl down for a moment so he can reach over, adjusting the position of Signless' wrist. "Here. Like this."

[onlyasign]

Sufferer changes the angle of his wrist, and the frosting consistency changes after only a few whips. "Amazing! Thank you!"

He assumes Gamzee has done this a million times before, and has innate knowledge of how to make the best frosting.

[420]

Gamzee has watched enough cooking shows to learn these kinda tricks.

"No prob, bro. Something what I got all schoolfed on by the grumpy motherfucker on the husktube."

[onlyasign]

"Yeah? Who was that?" Sufferer knows nothing about cooking shows, or TV in general. He doesn't even know who Troll Bob Ross is.

[420]

That is a utterly startling lack of culture Signless has got there. Gamzee'd cry to know Signless is unfamiliar with the miracle making of Troll Bob Ross.

"Troll Gordon Ramsay. You know the bro from Alternia's kitchen nightmares?" He shrugs a little. "He gets to reminding me of my best brother sometimes."

Like. Basically always. Fuck, he was just such a grumpy motherfucker. Sometimes Gamzee just all wanted to reach in... press his fingers to that mouth... shoosh, Troll Gordon Ramsay, shoosh.

Shut up, he is young, he is allowed to have celebrity pale crushes.

[onlyasign]

If Sufferer knew about that celebrity pale crush, he would find it completely adorable.

"I'm sorry, I don't." He finishes whipping his frosting with a flourish and sets it aside. "He must have been hatched after my time." He's very old, Gamzee. Very, very old.

[420]

Old as globes.

"He's this grumpy motherfucker, but shit, the bro is just all filled up with motherfuckin' caring, you know?" Gamzee motions with a hand. "He gets his shout on all royally like, but he just got all these cooking miracles what he wants to schoolfeed motherfuckers on."

[onlyasign]

Older than globes.

"Sounds like Karkat, but with cooking instead of coding viruses." Sufferer isn't even computer savvy enough to know that Karkat doesn't make those viruses deliberately. He thinks that's what his descendant wants to make and is appropriately proud. "Is there anything else I can help with?"

[420]

Gamzee surveys the things they readied so far, before shaking his head. "Naw, bro. You just all fuckin' park your glutes and I'll pull this shit together."

[onlyasign]

"Okay." Sufferer doesn't, in fact, park his glutes, but instead goes to the sink and starts washing some of the dishes they've dirtied, having a sneaking suspicion that if he doesn't, they're not going to get clean.