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gamdave

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It had been about a sweep since Gamzee had hidden himself fully away from the view of the others. He'd only pestered Terezi on occasion, when he was feeling particularly caliginous, but that wasn't any substitute for good old-fashioned contact.

Things had gotten weird, even by highblood clown standards. Gamzee had stayed off to one side of the meteor, while most of the rest of the group stayed together on the other side. Only on rare occasion did he bother to sneak back to get something to eat. And that's what he was doing just then. He knew their schedules well enough that he knew to stay away from certain parts of the meteor at certain times, and knew that after everybody retired for bed, it wasn't so hard to sneak in and alchemize himself some shit to bring back with him.

He dropped silently into the main room from the vents, squinting down the long hall before sneaking over to the alchemeter. He was certain that the rest of the survivors weren't going to bother him. He'd have enough food to last him a long while in just a few minutes, and then he'd not have to worry about being bothered by anybody.

Or to bother anybody. That was the real problem. He didn't want anyone to look at him like they looked when they spoke about him. Disappointed. Hatred. Disgust. He didn't want to destroy anybody.

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What he found, though, was the alchemiter occupied. Occupied by the resident sober human, in fact. He was perched on top of the platform, sitting there with his legs crossed, his sword in his lap. He was running an alchemized whetstone over it, not really to hone his blade given that it didn't actually need that, but he needed to keep his hands busy. His hand never stopped moving when he heard the near silent padding of Gamzee's feet on the metal floor.

"Disconnected it," he said when Gamzee was close enough to hear. He reached into the folds of his cape and held up the piece that was meant to read the input to create whatever someone might want to make. He stared up at the clown through his shades with an absolutely unreadable expression as he put the little device back out of sight. "Gonna sit a minute or crawl back into hiding now?"

Gamzee really didn't know what to do anymore when he was faced with having to interact. He deeply wanted to just slip off and walk away from the whole thing, from the human kid, but his feet felt like they had weights attached to him and he felt frozen in place. He stood there for a long moment, simply staring at Dave, before taking a deep breath and dropping his shoulders. He looked down at the ground between his feet and tucked his hands in his pockets.

"Why you gotta up and do a motherfucker like that? Just gotta get some motherfuckin' food, get goin' off like I do. Don't need a sit-down for this shit."

"Come on dude, you know this shit's kinda long overdue." Shaking his head some, Dave pulled up his sylladex and glanced through it before holding up one hand and muttering a quick rhyme that ejected a pie and a magazine into it at high speed. He could throw the mag away, now that it was smeared with neon green.

"Made something on the off-chance you'd wander your ass on out here. Took me some trial and error working but I'm pretty sure it's...ok, no, it's not edible, I don't know why you ever thought it was, and I wouldn't touch the shit with a mile-long pole, but it's the ostensibly real deal." He put the sopor slime down between them, in front of him on the platform.

Gamzee's eyes went wide at the appearance of slime, but stepped back and put his hand up to an eye with a wince, shaking his head at the loudness of his other self screaming not to even think of eating that motherfucking slime. He looked up from the pie at Dave and stepped back.

"No," was all he had to say, faint, low and tinged with just the faintest growl. "Shit no. Why you doin' this shit? You think it'll motherfuckin' appease me?"

He winced back again and shook his head. Shit, shit, don't let him speak. Fuck no. This kid didn't do fuckall to him. He knew that, he knew that bygones were motherfuckin' bygones, this scrawny ass pink kid didn't know any better.

"Better get rid'a that shit, motherfucker. Ain't... ain't good."

Edited 2014-05-15 03:33 (UTC)

"Why the fuck would I want to do that? Dude, I want you to not go fucking bloody murder paintin' this shit up with me as the brush. Peace offering, please." Putting his hands up then crossing his arms, Dave leaned forward and cocked an eyebrow up over his shades at Gamzee. "So put that fucked up dude in your head away and pop a squat, man. Ain't gonna kill you or anyone else."

"Get it away from me," Gamzee persisted, stepping back again, the itching need to dig into it and take the edge off - the edge he'd hoped would go away after time - and shook his head. "Can't do it, motherfucker, can't be eatin' shit like that, gonna... gonna only rust it out more, motherfuckin' let him fill up where I ain't is anymore." Short of a pleading please, Gamzee was doing his best to beg the human not to put the temptation there.

"You don't motherfuckin' get it," He said as he reached the opposite wall, sliding down it to a crouch. "Anythin' but that shit, you WASTE OF HUMAN SKIN. Anything but that. Just. Get it out. Just lemme get my motherfuckin' chow and let me go."

"Fine." Dave took the pan and and glanced around, then tossed it back behind him like a frisbee into the trash chute. "See? There, no more pan-rusting slimy shit. Now would you calm your ass? I'm not gonna do anything but sit and talk at ya. Just watch the namecalling, wouldya? I'm a sensitive fucking soul." The deadpan made it harder to decipher whether he was just joking about that.

"Ain't like I'm motherfuckin' trying to get my insult down on you, pink brother." Gamzee hung his head, still gripping it under his horns as he could feel his stomach churn with need for the slime, with desire to shut the darker half of him up. "If you up and had any motherfuckin' thing that could fix me, I'd be up for takin' that shit and fuckin' off. But I wholly motherfuckin' doubt a little pink skin like you got anything I can be up to takin' which could be fixing that shit I've up to become." he looked up at Dave, his eyes finally gone gold again, his posture defeated and dangling, like a broken doll.

"Ain't got nothin' 'gainst you, brother. Just don't wanna do you any harm. Just wanna get back to what all I been up to doin' this whole motherfuckin' time. Doin' me the way I need to do. Ain't got too long to wait left. Just shoulda let me be."

"Sorry man, where we are right now, all I got to offer's that you just had me toss, and my own damnfool self sitting here right in the middle of your business for the evening. And really? Unless you plan on moving me yourself, I'm pretty damn comfortable up here so I don't intend to move very far." And just to emphasize his point, Dave stretched out on his side with his sword laid in front of him, his legs just bent up enough and his arms over his head to make him look like some ironic pinup.

Gamzee looked up at the ceiling as he flopped back against the wall, and spread his own legs in front of him, no less looking like a dumped ventriloquist's dummy. "So you be doin' it intentional. Gettin' up in my shit, tryin' to make nice. Ain't real smart of you. Why you tryin'? What do you get outta it? Ain't... ain't real motherfuckin' good at makin' talk. Can ask Karbro about that."

"So? I'm pretty sure Karkat'd tell you the same shit about me." Shrugging, Dave arranged himself a little more comfortably then nudged his shades down on his nose. "Alright clown, how about we make this short then, if you're so eager to get it overwith and go back to hiding instead of trying to fix what you fuckin' broke. Or I guess that's not really true, is it? I fuckin' broke it. Because I did shit without thinking about it. I heard all about this fucked up clown cult and this shit you all believe in and while I personally think it's all a brand of fresh hell ain't nobody needs, it's your shit, and that shit's your rock, and I took a big, shitty juggalo-painted sledgehammer to that shit. I fucked with your faith and I'm fuckin' sorry for that."

He fell silent after that. That was probably the most he'd ever said to anyone that wasn't Terezi, Karkat or one of the human kids. And what was more, it was sincere.

Gamzee tilted his head as he examined Dave after that. He knew this kid's motions, he'd studied him, studied his tics and his motions. He knew when Dave was lying, which was often. Not now, though. And it surprised him.

"Shit, man, it wasn't just you all settin' me off. Coulda been just about motherfuckin' anything 'round then. Wasn't you who killed 'em, wasn't you who fucked up everybody, playin' headgames with blind sister. Shit shook me, yeah, but I'm beginnin' to think, I mighta been played. Not by you. By Him. Been sittin' on this motherfucker a real long time, ain't seen shit I been up and promised. He keeps sayin' it'll be soon, soon I'll be playin' a part I be up to be playin', fulfillin' my motherfuckin' duty as prophets and doin' the raisin' of Him. But he been up to sayin' all sorts of bullshit I don't really motherfuckin' believe. Him and that white text motherfuck. Both becomin' lost motherfuckin' causes."

He looked back over at Dave.

"Motherfucker, lookit me. Ain't on account of you I done what I done. If it wasn't you doin' shit, it woulda been somethin' else. I was sober before you'n me got that chat on. Woulda taken one motherfuckin' stiff breeze to set my shit off. Now all I want is to be left the fuck alone about it. Shit, brother. You probably didn't even motherfuckin' mean no harm or nothin' by it. Thought I'd probably up and get me a laugh from those heretical motherfucks." He scooted away from the wall to approach Dave. He was aware of the other's sword, but didn't give one shit. He knew he couldn't die by it.

"Ain't gonna do no good to apologize."

"Still, man. Shit I did set this shit off. Even if you won't accept that I'm fuckin' sorry." Dave propped himself back up on his elbow, watching Gamzee closely as he approached. Even if the guy claimed that he wasn't going to flip all of his shit just then, he still wanted to be ready, just in case. He was fairly certain that he could take Gamzee in a fight, but the guy had immortality on his side, meaning that simply beheading him and being done with it wasn't quite likely to work. Who know what kind of fucked up puppetry would be done to the guy then. And nobody deserved that shit.

He decided on a different train of thought then. Standing up, he climbed the arm of the machine to put the little device he'd removed back into place, then sat there perched on it as he watched the troll. "Tell you what. You don't want apologies, then maybe just some fuckin' chat between a couple of chill-ass dudes to pass the time until you go hide some more and I have to go make sure Karkat hasn't brained himself on a wall after dealing with every other goddamn thing."

"Meant ain't gonna do me no sorta good to up and try to be sayin' I'm sorry at anybody. Ain't nobody here gonna hear it from me. Karbro's too motherfuckin' up his own motherfuckin' chute to be dealin' with me on a personal level. Got you up in his grill, got his shit focused on Terezi. Ain't any sorta thing I can say at him. And frankly, I ain't even sure I is sorry, so I ain't gonna be up to lyin' for nothin'." He plopped down on the floor beside the device and looked up at Dave.

"And you got your motherfuckin' self and Rose to be keepin' an eye on. Kansis ain't gonna be able to keep a level head 'round her. Sis has had it bad for her since before we all was knowin' that you wasn't trolls. Shit, homegirl wanted that fineness since before we was even done bein' up in our worlds. Shoulda seen her, bro. Head over motherfuckin' stems for this girl that wrote this motherfuckin' FAQ." He chuckled a little at that, dry and lifeless.

"So Seein' 'em kickin' it together's a real motherfuckin' grace. Glad at least one of us be gettin' our happy endin'. Ain't nobody else seemin' to. So what the fuck is your happy endin', brother? Since there ain't no way we gonna any of us get outta this shit alive."

"Dude, when'd I say anything about you apologizing? I'm just saying I feel bad about this shit that went down. Mistakin' shit and makin' it about you now, jeez. Selfish motherfucker." Dave was smirking down at Gamzee from his perch, eyebrow still quirked up over his shades. "Yeah, I've heard all of this from Kanaya on the fly. She gets talking like she's trying to be Rose, without the armchair psychoanalysis to go with it. But she can handle this, probably better than I can because I can't really..." He dragged a hand back through the slightly lifeless fluff of his hair, grimacing at how badly it needed a wash. "I don't know what to do about her right now. She's completely and utterly stuck on Kanaya and it's not like I know what the fuck to do about mopey lesbians."

He turned it over in his head when Gamzee asked what he wanted out of this. His frown only grew, and he tried to hide it behind a sneer and his arms crossed again. "A swank fuckin' apartment and a fuckin' metric tonnage of soda that wasn't fuckin' alchemized. Maybe some fly babe that doesn't mind a dude that can't really do sunlight without gettin' a headache. Shit man, you really wanna get exorbitant with it, get me a fuckin' endorsement deal, get my music shit rolling for whoever will listen to it. That's what I want."

"Remember you was real good with spittin' a good rhyme here'n there," Gamzee murmured with a hazy smile. "Shit, you was the best motherfucker I ever had the chance of goin' proverbial toe to toe with. Got some real highblood quality beats to go with it, too. 'Least what I heard last time you was workin' on the music when I was up this way. I can see you doin' it up legit, sure." With a shrug, Gamzee settled back a little better. "All I be wantin' anymore is to see this shit through. To mean somethin'. Ain't ever done nothin' meanin' anythin'. Kinda... want somethin' I do to actually have a point. Don't matter what, really. Just somethin'. Tried to make waves, wound up doin' no good. Tried to do a motherfuckin' favor and get a homeboy feelin' good once, that didn't work neither. Didn't last too motherfuckin' long, neither." He shrugged.

"So I just want a motherfuckin' point. S'all. Ain't got no big wants like a place to up and be, or a recordin' deal or none of that."

"Come on dude, you can't tell me there isn't one single fucker out there that doesn't think the sun shines out your ass. Might not be here, but they're somewhere. So even if it's not a thing right now, doesn't mean you don't have a point at all."

He wished he could say the same thing for himself.

"Thought I did. Thought wrong. S'nothin' I can be doin' to fix it, neither. Don't got a spacey sis like you, admirin' me. Don't got a bro like you got in that Egbert kid. Nah. Shit, only bro I have is Karkat, and to tell you the truth, I know he only gets down with puttin' up with me 'cause ain't nobody else 'round to. He got his paleness directed to some motherfucker with lame shades and a prick attitude 'bout my religion." He smirked a little and looked over at Dave.

"So if the whispers is tellin' the truth, then I might get my chance. Sucks you ain't gonna get what you be wantin', though. Seem like an all right enough motherfucker, seems a shame you get the short end of shit."

His brow furrowed then, and he looked back down at his hands.

"Yo, look, thanks for gettin' up the globes to say you's sorry. Sorry I did up a retaliation for it. You got your shit on straight, though. Didn't do the damage I'd been hopin' when I did it up, so. Sorry."

"Ain't over yet, man. just keep chuggin'. Don't kill anyone you don't fuckin' know you have to. I'd like to at least have one friend left when all's said n' done, y'know?" giving Gamzee a weak smile, Dave climbed back down, then stood there and searched through his sylladex a moment before coming up with something he'd forgotten he'd even had in there until just then.

"Bet you haven't ever had a can'a Pringles before. Bon apetite, clown."

"Shit, really?" Gamzee said as he looked at the can in Dave's hand like it was liable to bite him if he took it, then up at Dave with an expression of sheer surprise and wariness. It wasn't as though many people ever thought to give him anything, much less someone who seemed more leery of him than anything. Not that it was unfounded, but the gift certainly seemed to be.

"Wanna share?"

Dave just gave Gamzee a Look. Who willingly offered to share a can of Pringles? Someone who obviously didn't know what they were missing. With a shrug, Dave popped open the can and peeled the paper off, then took the first three chips and popped them into his mouth, giving a pleased little huff at the crunch. They hadn't gone stale or any sort of bad and that was better than anything he'd been expecting of food coming out of his sylladex. He shook another small stack out and handed it to Gamzee, before taking out two more and wedging them between his lips just so, making them into a salty duck bill for the sake of making the moment not quite so stifling. If he'd had a camera with its memory card intact around, he might have taken a selfie.

Gamzee watched the process with a look of bewildered amusement, then took a bite of one and reeled back.
"Whoa fuck, motherfucker! Shit's salty as fuck!" He exclaimed, then took another bite, beaming at it. It was leaps and bounds better than anything he'd been alchemizing over the past sweep or so, and better still than the replicated snacks he'd been getting for himself. There was only so much special stardust one motherfucker could subsist on without going batshit guano and sick of the taste.

He grinned once he finished the ones he'd been given, and got another few. "Hang on, man, just a motherfuckin' second." He said, grabbing up a single chip before pulling something out of his sylladex. It was a handheld device he'd snagged that would show the captcha code for whatever any tangible thing was, and the grist that it would cost to make it. He then punched a few buttons and smiled, nudging Dave off to get off the alchemeter, and trundled over to the input box.

Soon, he had five hundred pringles in a pile.

"There you be. Dunno why nobody thought to be all lookin' up codes for food or nothin' when they coulda. Ain't so motherfuckin' hard. Shit, got me codes for every motherfuckin' food I had up in my hive."

"We didn't really expect starvation to be a thing when we started," Dave reminded him, "and none of you assmongers thought to warn us. But that's a fucking stroke of genius, dude. But get some tubes on that shit so they don't all go stale or something. Wasting grist on Pringles you're not gonna eat's just stupid, even if you do have it comin' out your ears." He grabbed a couple of the alchemized chips though, wrinkling his nose some. They really were edible, but they also tasted like off-brand chips, closer to the Lay's knockoffs. But he wasn't going to be picky about it. Instead, he shook another handful of the original chips out into his hand, crunching down on them. "I'm gonna feed some of these to Karkat and see what he has to say about the salt content."

"Dude, after two motherfuckin' sweeps of nothin' but bullshit alchemy food, real food is a motherfuckin' knockout." He took a few of the chips he'd made and took a bite of them in a stack, then smirked, pushing the whole pile of them onto a blanket that he pulled from his sylladex. He then took the can, and read the code for that, and made a few cans to start putting them in. "You like soda, motherfucker? Got some faygo in my sylladex. Got redpop, purple shit, citrus, you name it." He started to put the chips into the cans, making sure they were capped before captchaloguing them.

"You got any clear shit? I'm pretty fuckin' sure all the sugar I've eaten since I was old enough for solid food's stunted my growth." Says the boy with the ongoing growth spurt bringing him close to Gamzee's height. "I mean yeah the clear citrusy shit has sugar but it's less syrupy. Gives you the illusion that it won't kill you quite as quick." He sat down to start shuffling chips into tubes, intending to dump however many loose chips were left right onto Karkat. Preferably while he was sleeping, but who even knew when that would be next.