vatheon | ♋ shoosh ♑

Entry tags:

♋ shoosh ♑

Who: Karkat and Gamzee
Where: Gamzee, Equius, and Darkleer's hive, presently absent the latter two.
When: March 14th, starting around midnight, continuing into whenever.
Style: Action
Status: Closed

[The latter hours of the 13th have been a process. Everything is preparation, first in the act of gathering. Karkat has raided pillows from most places, foremost his own room, and any in other places that he has found particular fondness for. Nothing more Eridan's, or nothing equally favored: they would be out of place. And blankets, too, though he has already lost the one from his own bed on Monday to the act of covering his thought bubble, for however long that venture lasted. Hint: not very. After that is a bottle of Faygo, purchased specially for this night in remembrance of the April night they mended their friendship. Last, the Regisickle. That much never leaves him willingly, nor the other bits of his strife deck, but checking it carries a weight beyond the physical.]

[Second, and starting with the gathering, has been the act of scrubbing down down. Each object picked up is like a piece of himself picked away: not in loss, but in opening, letting memories and feelings well under the surface for the jam to come. A shower serves as culmination, each brush of soap like cleaning away doubt and hesitance, rubbing raw his mind that his moirail may yet sooth it.]

[The actual trip there after is uneventful, and too short for any meaningful thought along the way. When he reaches the door a few houses down, he knocks and waits.]

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[Karkat looks sideways up at him.]

There is a ton of stuff that happened last month, Gamzee. You want to go in chronological order or pick something specific?

You get what I mean.

[And if he doesn't, Gamzee's thought bubble is all too happy to lend a hand, suddenly filling with splashes of bright red blood and glimpses of a corpse.]

[Oh, well, yes. Maybe part of it was being difficult - okay it definitely was - but the images in his bubble aren't the push he wanted. He shuts his eyes tight and curls into himself, thoughts speaking from his own bubble in a rush.]

Don't show me that, don't show me that, I don't want to see it.

[He takes a moment after that, breathing and trying to calm himself while memories come up unbidden in his own mind: shots of Yuno with her knife, his own bloody hands, the way things went dark at the end.]

Just--don't. I'll talk.

Ain't trying to!

[He really isn't purposely thinking of it to make Karkat talk. He'd much rather never think of that day ever again, but such a haunting sight is not banished easily from his brain.

One of Gamzee's hand comes up to cover Karkat's eyes as if to block out the sight like that, staring at his own bubble, trying to switch it to a new topic. But for once it is hard to just let his mind drift and think of anything else. Eventually, he grabs the edge of one of the blankets Karkat spread out over the pile, tugging it over his bubble. It is kind of haphazardly draped there, and probably will slide off eventually, but for now it will hold.]

Sorry.

[Karkat breathes slow, his own hands coming up to clutch at Gamzee's larger as if it can ease him out of it, thumbs pressing at the palm. And in a way, it kind of does. He's safe here and his moirail is there for him, constant comfort, sturdy support. His eyes drift open after he's gathered himself some.]

Some of it's harder than the rest. Usually I'm alright. It's just... not easy, I mean, my dreamself got killed on Prospit before, but that's different. This was actually me, in my own hive, by just some human girl. And if not me it could have been Eridan, and I couldn't... I wasn't good enough.

[Gamzee frowns a little at that, squirming down a bit more so they can at least lay eye to eye.]

Now that ain't true. You're good enough. You just caught a motherfuckin' unlucky break.

Edited 2012-03-24 06:29 (UTC)

But I couldn't even defend my own hive, Gamzee, let alone myself.

[He frowns at him pointedly. This wound is deep.]

She was just a human with a kitchen knife, and yet she snuck into the place, and I couldn't... I couldn't stop her. I tried, but it didn't work. Because of her even coffee cups freak me out sometimes, how pathetic is that?

[Note, move coffee cup collection out of Karkat's sight.]

She just got the motherfuckin' drop on you all like a fuckin' laughsassin does. You ain't pathetic.

Edited 2012-03-24 06:44 (UTC)

It's not like that. It's not like she just grabbed me and did it before I could act. I saw her when I went to close the door, and we fought each other, but... I got the knife out of her hand, but...

[He cringes up tighter, images filtering through his bubble as he speaks, illustrating the fight.]

She hit me with the mug, and she got her knife, but I'd dropped one of my sickles. I tried... [A shudder.] I wanted to kill her in that moment, Gamzee, for threatening me and Eridan and everything. She got my hand, and I punched her, but before anything else she... the knife...

[His breathe comes out shaky, harsh.]

I died drowning on my own blood.

[And what do you say to that? No really, what do you motherfuckin' say to that? He is Karkat's moirail. He should be helping him deal with this but even he doesn't know some miracle words what make that okay. How do you make drowning on your own blood cool.

Instead he just reaches up to pap Karkat's cheek.]

Sssh, it's aight now. It's done. Ain't gonna motherfuckin' happen again, I promise.

[That is pretty much it, huh? Karkat scoots closer to Gamzee, taking the pap, just wanting to soak in his cool comfort.]

Mmmph. I just... feel weak again. I'm the leader, you know? And yet this happened. And I'm not even the first person to ever die or even get killed around here, and yet here it's still bothering me now. I should be moving on, not freaking out over stupid shit like how someone holds a kitchen knife, or opening a door, or someone touching my neck. Even if it doesn't always happen, it's almost worse that I can't predict it.

And I can't feel comfortable in my own skin. I've got this... big fucking scar on my neck now. If I leave it showing it's just this huge glaring sign to everyone I got my throat slit, but if I cover it up with a turtleneck or whatever it's obvious I'm trying to hide it. I'm weak either way.

[Okay, if the papping is working, he's definitely gonna keep on doing that, folding his other arm protectively around his back.]

You ain't weak, Karkat. You is all like one of the strongest motherfuckers I ever done meet. You just gotta give yourself time, yeah? Gotta deal with this shit in your own motherfucking way. And ain't nobody who can say shit cause it's your shit to deal with not theirs.

[He tries giving him a bit of a lop-sided grin, hoping it is comforting.]

Just fuckin' tell them you all fuckin' think you look motherfuckin' cool all wearing a sweater like that. Ain't their fuckin' business anyway.

[Karkat makes another noise, not entirely convinced.]

I need to get stronger than I am. The Handmaid... she's helping that way, but it's still hard. And it's partly because of her that I know I've got a long way to go yet.

[He looks up at the suggestion, though, using the moment to study his moirail's face.]

Maybe. It sounds stupid, but I almost wish she'd gotten me some other way. Even if that way was probably fastest in the end, if I got stuck with a scar elsewhere, I wouldn't have to worry about everyone seeing it.

And maybe I wouldn't have had to see so much blood.

Edited 2012-03-24 07:32 (UTC)

Wish she hadn't gotten you at all, bro. Sorry a motherfucker couldn't mean nothing to you when that shit were going down.

[The next bit is spoken after a moment of hesitation, in response to his thought bubble.]

It still bother you that much? Thought it might have...

[He lets that trail off. Thought it might have gotten better being here, being surrounded by so many red-blooded humans. And with Signless there, of course.

Don't say that.

[His voice is a sudden stern, hard edge, his eyes up and meeting Gamzee's own.]

It was my hive, away from yours, and between the time I went inside and when she--when she got me, there wasn't any time for you to get there, if you had even had any way of knowing in the first place. It's not your fault, so don't you even talk like that.

[He cements it with a pap to the cheek.]

[But the other thing... that weakens the look, until his gaze drops away.]

I was... getting better about it. I seriously was, I mean, it doesn't mean much here. But--you saw how it was. What I looked like after. I'm the one who went through it, and seeing all of that when I...

[His eyes close fully.]

It's not easy to go through. It's not just something I can shake off and keep going. And then barely a week after that, the Grand Grubfucker showed up, and then the Empress herself. If I just showed my blood to them, they'd cull me, no question. Even if we have the Grand Highblood stuck under those terms the Signless and Summoner came up with, I'm not going to rush off to meet the guy anytime soon.

[Gamzee's expression darkens a little at the mention of the Grand Highblood.]

Don't. I ain't trust what miracles they got their motherfuckin' promising on for here. That motherfucker is gonna fuck up and when he all does, I ain't want it to be at you.

I won't, Gamzee. I won't. I know better than that - I'm the one who was calling people stupid for going back down here before we had the situation dealt with. But the Signless--Dad put it to me in a way I couldn't just ignore, and if something does go wrong, we can fix it from there.

[He's looking up again now, concerned for Gamzee as the subject veers to this subject.]

But hey, what about you? He's your ancestor. Jam with me on this.

Ain't that much all fuckin' clear? I hate the motherfucker.

[The admission comes with a bit of a sour look. He is not used to hating things. He can find miracles in nearly anything, but this? No, not in this motherfucker. And it isn't just that.

He toys with Karkat's shirt for a moment, before adding.]

... motherfucker got me up in a right fright.

Who wouldn't?

[Just a quick thought, but one he can hardly stop. Yet it is strange to hear of him hating anyone. While Gamzee makes that look, Karkat pats at his shoulder, gentle and soothing.]

Keep talking. Scared about what? I know I've got reasons to fear that asshole as a simple matter of having a working think pan, but you're in a different position than me.

[It is true, Gamzee would hardly be killed for his colour. Unless, much like their empress, the Grand Highblood had taken up the sport of scion killing. Wouldn't put it beyond him. But that is not what is bothering him here. Honestly, the thought of dying at this motherfucker's hands is far kinder than that other thought he has, that spooks his pan some times.]

... what if I'm all gonna fuckin' turn into a motherfucker like that too?

[When those words reach his ears, Karkat looks up at his moirail with a look of profound pale pity. His arms come up to hug him closer, then he sets to papping along the back his head, his neck, his shoulders.]

Shooosh, shooosh. Shhh. I'm never going to let that happen, you understand me?

[Though there is an iron will behind those words, his outward tone stays soft, gentle and comforting.]

I'm your moirail and that means I'm the one who's going to keep you safe. You're not going to be like him. Shooshshshhsh. You care too much, I know you do. You listen to me and you--you have your matesprit and all your friends. You don't even hate enough to have a kismesis, do you? You don't believe that hemocaste shit. You're big and you're dumb but you're gentle, and I keep you that way when you can't do it all yourself.

[Gamzee tilts his head close enough to lean his forehead against Karkat's for a moment, for once not leaving smears of greasepaint on his skin.]

You know I don't! That shit ain't makin' no sense. Just gettin' your hate on for a motherfucker cause it ain't the right fuckin' colour all inside of him.

[He makes a little face, before back to the topic at hand.]

And I know. Know you got me. Know you ain't ever gonna let shit like that all get its fuckin' happen on. Just can't fuckin' kick it from my motherfuckin' pan sometimes.

[For all Karkat has gotten well used to the grease paint by now, it's nice still to not have to worry about it sometimes. Especially on a night like this, it means he won't have to get up and fuss about washing it off when they're trying to jam about feelings.]

I won't even let you get close to something like that. Even if you're scared, you have me.

[He gives him another squeeze of a hug, then getting an idea, he draws out a shape against the back of his shoulder. The movements of his finger are slow and deliberate. Four lines, angles alternately sharper or wider than the corners of a square. He traces over it once after to make completely sure Gamzee can't mistake it.]

[Hopefully Karkat isn't too attached to his ribs, because at that, Gamzee squeezes him tight, his skinny arms closing around him like a vice. And when he does let go, he runs his finger low against the back of Karkat's ribs, using his claw to draw out the diamond shape against Karkat's back as well. It's more messily than his carefully drawn one, but it makes the meaning more than clear enough.]

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