"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."