bothme | (no subject)

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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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"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.

"Nah, not a fan of the clear shit. That and I'm pretty motherfuckin' sure Faygo don't make clear, anyhow." He pulled out what he did have, though. Cola, redpop, citrus, and grape. Apparently, the redpop was his, and he took a long swig of it, shrugging a bit.

"Always ate sugary shit, never had a motherfuckin' problem. Then again, I don't know what all your body might be in difference to me. Motherfuckin' humans is weird as shit. Real motherfuckin' fragile. None of you woulda lasted on Alternia, s'for motherfuckin' sure." He finished up putting the pringles in the cans, and set a few aside for Dave, simply because the guy had offered them up to him in the first place.

"Why you down with gettin' your jaw on with me, anyway? I thought you was tryin' to keep to yourself."

Taking the grape for himself then, Dave unscrewed it and took a small swallow before shrugging and looking back down between his feet for a moment. "Maybe I just wanted a little variety in this 'fore I decided to fuck off when this timeline's done with me."

"We doomed?" Gamzee asked. It wasn't a real big deal, one way or another. The chances of a timeline being successful, or even close to the main one were infinitesimal. He looked over at Dave with a small amount of sympathy. This kid seemed to be hurting. Sure, even if they weren't doomed, seeing a kid so fucked up when he hadn't done anything was tough, but Gamzee really didn't know how to give consolation.

"Yep," Dave sighed, rubbing his fingers into his eyes under his shades. He took a seat on the ground beside the alchemiter with the soda between his knees, turning one of the alchemized chips over in his fingers. It really wouldn't have bothered him so much, he was certain, if it weren't for the fact that he knew it was inevitable, even if he didn't know for certain how the end would come. His stomach plummeted sickly at the thought. "Well, you're not. But the rest of us, we're straight-up fucked. More fucked than Jake Bass' asshole and this shit's goin' in dry."

"Shit. Sorry, homie." Gamzee nudged his foot against the floor from his spot against the alchemiter, and slipped closer to Dave.

"You ain't even a part of this timeline, is you. Just dropped yourself here 'cause you ain't motherfuckin' ready to die. S'why you's in here, 'stead of in your room where you always is at this hour. 'Cause you came here to get away from a problem." He thought something was off.

"Look, bro, ain't gonna blame you for up and steppin' off. Droppin' yourself down somewhere you gonna get swallowed up. Would do that for myself, if I had the motherfuckin' means. But you don't deserve this bullshit. Not from anybody. Not from yourself, neither."

"The rest of my timeline's dead, Gamzee. Every fucking one of them. 'cept you, dunno where the fuck you went, just disappeared off the fucking face of the Incipisphere. I chickened right the fuck out when it got to my turn, found my way here. I guess I ousted this other poor bastard, took his spot, doomed him too. Lots of dead Daves all over again because I was fuckin' greedy." Grimacing heavily, Dave put the bottle back to his lips and started to chug down his soda. He put it back down when there was maybe a third of it left. "What about you though, now you got where I'm comin' from? Not that it's gonna make much difference in the long run anyway."

"Kinda got a way about doin' shit," Gamzee muttered quietly, still poking at the floor. "Can't die, so I just cease to be, I guess. G'on off to another reality. Not a different timeline. Different motherfuckin' page of a long-ass novel, where every motherfuckin' page is a motherfuckin' universe." He shrugged at that. "Dunno where that up and came from. Never been anywhere but where I's been. Been up on this rock since everything went belly up. But I'm guessin' that's where that other me went."

He turned to face Dave, giving the other his full attention. "Still got some time to be doin' shit up right. Don't gotta be gloomy about it. Should be glad we got a definitive end to this bullshit. You ain't chicken for not wantin' to be facin' death. Ain't nobody wants that. You just got the globes to admit the shit ain't nobody else does."

"It's not over yet for the rest of you, but all that's left for this particular version of me that you're jawin' at? Is a dead fucking end. So I'm just saying no. Screw that and everything that comes with it. I can change my own fucking future so that's what I'm doing. Dunno about you and your duty and your messiahs and all that shit, but I'm taking this shit into my own hands. Which, y'know, is why I'm here instead of sitting on my ass going insane. Proactively delaying the inevitable." He gave an empty, inane smirk at that and sat back with his head against the alchemiter, pushing up his shades to rest on the top of his head, eyes closed. "Saw one timeline once, they didn't win or anything, but they all went on to somethin' better. It ain't without its shit, but it's a hell of a lot fuckin' better than just about anything else that coulda happened to 'em."

Gamzee hadn't had his attention pried from Dave, even as he laid his head back on the base of the alchemiter. The human had his full attention, and there was a way about him that made him seem eerily tuned in on every word the kid was saying. "Will you up and stick around if someone gets to askin' you?" There was only one real logical explanation for his asking, but his tone was detached.

"If you had somebody to face shit together with you."

Dave pondered over that, once he really got what Gamzee was asking him. He took his shades off his head and fiddled with the earpieces, his eyes unfocused as he stared out at the floor a few yards in front of his feet. "Dunno, man. Dunno how that'd really work. We go our separate ways, it'll be like nothin' happened to begin with. But fuck, if it means I an sit around here and get all up in your grill with chips of the potato variety, why th'fuck not?"

"Way I'm seein' it, you reached out. Motherfuckin' grasped for a lifeline you wasn't sure was gonna be there while you was sinkin' in the quicksand, so why's it you got the tenuous grasp? Motherfucker, you ain't sure about me, and I'm down with that, I get it. I'm wary of my motherfuckin' self, too. But when you sinkin', sure to up and get covered, sure to motherfuckin' drown, you hold tight on whatever you got that's pullin' you up, even if that motherfuckin' thing is the hand of some dubious motherfucker. 'Least you'll be more liable to up and motherfuckin' have it again next time you sinkin'."

He paused as he sat up and looked into Dave's eyes. "Never saw you with your motherfuckin' shades on your face. You got your sincerity down behind 'em. Always wondered about that."

Dave looked back at him, but only briefly before slipping his shades back on. "You got my back, I'll have yours as long as possible, man." He offered Gamzee another small smirk, then held out his hand to shake. "You crawl on outta your vents again, I got no doubt you'll know where to find me. Should probably chill out on that though, look at this shit." He tilted his head toward the scars littered across Gamzee's arms and the backs of his hands from crawling around in such tight, uneven spaces.

Gamzee took Dave's hand and momentarily boggled at how warm it was, before his focus was diverted to his own arm and hands. He shrugged to the observation with a murmur of, "Don't motherfuckin' feel 'em, know they won't kill me. Still is gettin' motherfuckin' tight up there for me, can't really fit in the smaller ones no more. Probably gonna have to take the lesser hallways soon enough, anyhow." He bowed his head, forcing a smile.

"Dunno what all them would be thinkin' if they got their peep on me. Kinda don't want to know what might come of it if I can't shut him up. Still has his motherfuckin' want to kill all y'all motherfuckers." He slipped his hand away from Dave's and his smile became sincere. "Long as motherfuckin' possible. You got my word on it. Any motherfucker comes along wantin' to do you like some common motherfucker, I got you."

"Still man, shit's itchy if it gets infected. You wanna watch that shit if you're gonna keep it up. Have arms straight up falling off like you got weird alien leprosy. Leavin' rotten bits in the vents to stink up the place worse than it already is wit all the sweaty, angry alien nerds everywhere. Ain't nobody got time for that." Dave was almost legitimately smiling by that point, leaving his hand in Gamzee's grip until the other moved away.

"Man even if this other asshole squatting in your cranium's out and owly I'll just sit and jaw him to death too. Not like I'm doing anything of importance else-timeline."

Edited 2014-05-17 05:29 (UTC)

"He ain't the type for talkin'," Gamzee sighed, shaking his head, "but it's real motherfuckin' tight of you to be wantin' to get your words on with him, too." He was actually rather flattered; nobody had actually sought him out to speak with basically ever, and now, not only knowing what he was capable of, what was wrong with him, and what he'd done, Dave came through for him. He wanted to repay that kindness in kind.

Even as they parted ways, Gamzee with a stash of food including half the chips in his sylladex, Gamzee felt strangely unburdened. Having somebody who actually wanted to talk to him, who actually didn't shy away when he wanted to speak, even when the darker side of him piped up. It was, for the first time in a long time, something he could very easily label as a miracle.

Over the next few days, he was absent. He stashed his food away, tucked himself into his darker area of the meteor where he'd been hiding, bathing, living, and waiting. But the memories of their talk kept Gamzee upbeat. He recounted Dave's near smiles, the sincerity in his eyes, and the way he didn't flinch even when Gamzee was close to him. It was new and pleasant, and soon, when he knew everyone else wasn't likely to pester Dave, he slipped up through the hallways, using the pipes that crisscrossed the ceiling as his road, to the room that Dave had taken over as his own.

As he peeked around the corner to see if Dave was there, and if he was alone, Gamzee let out a soft "Psst," and offered the tiniest of hopeful smiles.

Dace was lying on the floor with his shirt off, having rolled it up to place under his knees as he looked up at the ceiling. His hands were laced behind his neck and he was sweating lightly, as if he'd just finished exercising. In fact, that was what he was in the middle of doing; He'd taken to doing sets of basic exercises simply to keep from letting himself get sluggish while he waited for the next time the shit would hit the fan. He looked up at the sound of Gamzee's approach and sat up with his arms propped on his knees, giving him an upward nod. "Sup, clown?"

"Nothin'," was Gamzee's response, slipping in entirely after making sure he hadn't been spotted. He ambled quietly over to Dave, dropping down onto the floor, to sit cross-legged at Dave's feet. "You was workin' out?" He asked, "Don't really got much else to be up and doin', I s'pose. Do that myownself, keep my shit prime for when I gotta be doin' what I gotta." Not that he looked like he did much; his shoulders were broader than what Sollux's had been, but he was otherwise skinny, his arms showing very little definition. Not that much showed through his baggy clothes.

"You gotta screen in here, bro? Could hook you up with some movies 'n' shit. Keep you from gettin' too motherfuckin' bored with whatchu probably got and got your peep on too many times."

"You gonna try n' sell me shit?" Dave snorted quietly then flicked open his sylladex, scanning through it thoughtfully. Had he even thought to captchalogue something with a screen? He hummed quietly then smirked and muttered 'think fast' before spitting out the rhyme that would rocket a weird-looking alchemized screen and an anomalous cat-shaped plush out of his inventory. He probably had some movies in there somewhere, having ganked a few from his timeline's Karkat when he found out they had a mutual thing for Will Smith movies. He was pretty sure that whatever Gamzee had for them to watch, it'd either be better, or infinitely worse than the movies he'd already seen more times than he could count.

With a honk of surprise and a quick reflexive grab of the screen in midair, Gamzee beamed and set it down. "Nah man, figger you'n me can get our barter on. I seen these motherfuckers more times than I can fuckin' count, and some fresh shit's about due." He put the screen aside before grabbing some discs from his own sylladex with the same lightning-quick reflexes, and handed them over.

"Got a little bit of motherfuckin' everything. Fantasy, comedy, horror. Lots of horror comedy." And all pirated, it seemed. "Shit's real fuckin' good. Then you got some weird shit I did up and downloaded 'fore I got here. Was lookin' for bootleg videos of my motherfuckin' favorite band and wound up with some weird-ass classy shit. Good to get your forty winks to, if nothin' else." He flopped back down onto the ground beside Dave and grinned up a storm.

"Could sell 'em to you, but it ain't like I'll be needin' boonies. Already got me a real nice enterprise about to get set up. Just waitin' on the day. Besides. Wouldn't be real motherfuckin' chummy of me to take my racket up with a motherfuckin' guy I be tryin' to get my chill on with."

"Alright, how's this shit." Dave pulled his collection of stolen, alchemized and just random movies he'd had since the game started, stacking them up beside Gamzee's pile and deciding that they could just trade based on rum times. By the end of it, they'd traded about a third of their respective movie collections, and one of Gamzee's discs was slotted into the side of the TV that by all rights should have been bolted to a wall. He figured he might do that later, if he thought about it. "Cool, white noise that isn't just people yelling or can noises. Could get used to that."

"Hell yeah, motherfucker, hope you like it. I'll be puttin' this shit in later," he said, captchaloguing the movies before sprawling out on the floor to watch the screen in a half-daze.

Having somebody there with him kept him from getting too sunk into the movie, and made him feel weirdly excited. Gamzee was focused on the other person in the room. The way Dave breathed, the way his skin moved against the cut of his shoulderblades and spine. He wasn't staring, really. Just catching occasional glimpses from his periphery. It was impressive that the human body managed to look so much more animated than that of his own. Maybe he was just weird. Well, weirder than usual. Weirder than he had already assessed himself to be.

He tried to push himself to watch the movie, instead. The weird, borderline-flushed notions were put aside as best he could, and he fussed against his shirt's hem as he watched the screen and the horror comedy on it. One of the jokes seemed vaguely too distinctly Troll to translate well to Dave, so Gamzee looked over. "Motherfuckin' historical joke, older than the motherfuckin' dirt. Hard to explain, now that I get my think on about it. Ain't like I can get your understand onto midblood politics or nothin', so it's basically like your motherfuckin' cluckbeast 'cross the road shit."

Edited 2014-05-17 06:37 (UTC)

Dave was good at pretending that he hadn't noticed the casual ogling, simply keeping his eyes on the movie as he shifted occasionally to get more comfortable without lying back on the floor entirely. "That's one of the greatest fuckin' human mysteries, you know? Nobody ever actually found a definitive answer for why that chicken was always crossing that goddamn road." He shook his head some, then looked back at Gamzee in time to obviously catch him. There wasn't much to look at really, just tone along his chest, shoulders and arms leading down to a lean stomach with no navel, which he doubted Gamzee would question, given what he could remember about troll anatomy.

He started to wonder about that, the more of the movie they watched. Seeing multicolor innards on the screen felt cartoonish to him, in a grisly sort of way, but he knew it was different for trolls. It was the same way with a lot of their more physical inclinations, he found; it felt like a parody of human life, when really it was likely that humanity looked that way to trollkind. Or what was left of it, anyway.

That led to wondering if it was the same way with their porn. He wondered if they even had porn, or if it had been outlawed for the sake of the propagation of the species, or whatever stupid reason the Condescension could come up with. He'd have to ask Gamzee about all of that later.

for now, he simply quirked an eyebrow up at Gamzee looking at him, the softest smirk on his face.

Gamzee's brows shot up at being caught, then he gave a small, unashamed smile. "Whatever, you'd be up to peepin' on yourself too if you wasn't so used to it," He muttered as he went back to watching the movie with the smile still in place. "Got dots all over you. Like a motherfuckin' pattern." Something that he'd only seen on sunburned trolls and seadwellers, for completely different reasons, and always wholly fascinating.

Dave's brow arched up and he looked down at the freckles peppering his shoulders and part of his chest. They extended down his back in a more widespread smattering, and there was even a light pattern across his forearms. "Dude, you should see this shit after I've been out in the sun, I start looking like a goddamn ginger kid without the freaky red curls."