gAmZeE MaKaRa ♑ terminallyCapricious (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hystericull) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
animus_network2013-01-15 11:01 am
hystericull) wrote in animus_network2013-01-15 11:01 am
011 ♑ [eleventh honk/video]
Content Warning: Thread with Tavros got smutty I really can't believe I'm putting this right in the OP but the general public has a right to be warned.
[The feed clicks on, revealing an extremely wide, extremely frantic purple eye.]
[After a few seconds, the features surrounding said eye come into view, as the operator of the video backs up. And backs up a little more.]
[It's a gargantuan troll. Everything about him looks like it's been blown well out of reasonable proportion. His shoulders took up the width of the screen, and the way he hunched over couldn't have been anything but uncomfortable. His face was painted up like a monotone clown - all dark smudges against stark white. The design hadn't changed much in the sweeps he'd spent here. What was your face was your face, no matter how you felt about it. The paint was what he was born with, the design was a part of him - one thing in life that couldn't be done on a whim.]
[Most of that face, however, was obscured by the most absurd mane of hair imaginable. It exploded from his head in a mass of mats and twists and curls, getting in his eyes and mouth before running down his neck and past his shoulders. It was reminiscent of vines taking over a building - crawling up and threatening to engulf the two massive, spiraling horns that sprouted from his head.]
[For being as giant as he was, Gamzee had been lacking in the brute strength department - a solitary physical trait he failed to inherit from his ancestor. His limbs and neck were thick, but not as thick as they could or should be. His hands rivaled the size of dinner plates, but the fingers on them remained knuckles and spindle.]
[Now that both manic eyes were visible, as well as a decent amount of the rest of him, Gamzee's dark lips parted to speak, revealing terribly sharp and terribly disgusting fangs. Plucking a vial of dark purple liquid from his pants pocket, he held it up to the camera.]
All you magnanimous motherfuckers, please to be all popping the most righteous of motherfuckin' squats at the terminal and start bestowing on to your wicked brother all what's knowledge holy you up and got in those inferior thinkpans 'bout the matter what all is at being your mother fucking blood.
[The feed clicks on, revealing an extremely wide, extremely frantic purple eye.]
[After a few seconds, the features surrounding said eye come into view, as the operator of the video backs up. And backs up a little more.]
[It's a gargantuan troll. Everything about him looks like it's been blown well out of reasonable proportion. His shoulders took up the width of the screen, and the way he hunched over couldn't have been anything but uncomfortable. His face was painted up like a monotone clown - all dark smudges against stark white. The design hadn't changed much in the sweeps he'd spent here. What was your face was your face, no matter how you felt about it. The paint was what he was born with, the design was a part of him - one thing in life that couldn't be done on a whim.]
[Most of that face, however, was obscured by the most absurd mane of hair imaginable. It exploded from his head in a mass of mats and twists and curls, getting in his eyes and mouth before running down his neck and past his shoulders. It was reminiscent of vines taking over a building - crawling up and threatening to engulf the two massive, spiraling horns that sprouted from his head.]
[For being as giant as he was, Gamzee had been lacking in the brute strength department - a solitary physical trait he failed to inherit from his ancestor. His limbs and neck were thick, but not as thick as they could or should be. His hands rivaled the size of dinner plates, but the fingers on them remained knuckles and spindle.]
[Now that both manic eyes were visible, as well as a decent amount of the rest of him, Gamzee's dark lips parted to speak, revealing terribly sharp and terribly disgusting fangs. Plucking a vial of dark purple liquid from his pants pocket, he held it up to the camera.]
All you magnanimous motherfuckers, please to be all popping the most righteous of motherfuckin' squats at the terminal and start bestowing on to your wicked brother all what's knowledge holy you up and got in those inferior thinkpans 'bout the matter what all is at being your mother fucking blood.
[Video.]
[Video.]
not
happy
with. ]
[Video.]
The fuck's got your lacy underthings in a motherfuckin' twist?
[Video.]
GEE! I WONDER IF IT HAS ANYTHING TO DO WITH THE SHIT HEAD THAT HAS FANGS AND GLOWS!
[Video.]
If you sll got yourself a fuckin' problem with that nookwaste, what the motherfuck you takin' out on my ass for?
[Video.]
[Video.]
Me, I fuckin' guess!?
[Video.]
God. Whatever. Do what fucking ever.
[ he's still pretty mad. like... really mad. TEN YEARS AND HE STILL CAN'T BE TRUSTED BY HIS OWN MOIRAIL TO KNOW THINGS. 8( ]
[Video.]
THE FUCK YOU WANT FROM MY ASS!? THE FUCK I UP AND MOTHERFUCKING DO!?
[Video; private]
Don't you fucking get it? You're one of the only grubfuckers I have, dumbass. I overlook your murdermirth. Not happy, but can deal with the nuances of some of your friendships.
You know I'm not going to get all up and fucking preachy at you. Realized that doesn't work. But I'd still like to be trusted enough to know when things go down that you mothefucking know will make me worry!
[Video, not private because fuck you.]
[Gamzee's entire life is carefully built around hiding shit from the people that don't need to know it. It's become such a common occurrence that he really isn't quite sure which incident Karkat is referring to.]
Why don't you just fuckin' SPEAK AT ME WHAT'S THE SHIT MAKIN' YOU WANNA CRACK MY NUGBONE TODAY!?
[Video, not private because welp.]
[Text.]
IT'S TIME TO FUCKIN SLAM NOW.
tell me where the jam goin down.
WE GONNA HAVE A SPACE JAM.
here's your chance.
WE'LL MAKE ROMANCE.
at the space jam.
ALL RIGHT?
[Text.]
[Text.]
IF YOU WANNA MOTHERFUCKIN JAM, BROTHER.
can't make a rhyme.
WITH JUST ONE MOTHERFUCKING LINE.
[Text.]
FLOOR THIRTY-NINE.
[Text/Action.]
THOUGH STILL MUCH FUCKIN DEPLORABLE.
gimme some time.
TO MAKE YOUR RHYME SHINE.
but for now it be fine.
SEE YOU ON THE 3-9.
[Despite his antics over text, Gamzee looks a little weary as he drops off on the thirty-ninth floor and scans the equipment for any sign of his moirail(?).]
[Action.]
it's just this time it's coupled with swearing and maybe some tears. hadn't even bothered to wrap his hands this time. ]
[Action.]
[He stood a few feet away for a second, awkwardly. Then, realizing he wasn't the most subtle thing to ever exist, he approached, curling a hand around one of Karkat's arms beneath the armpit and hoisting him up a little. It never failed to amuse him how light the guy was, even with his larger statue now.]
I'm fuckin' here now. You can stop gettin' your motherfuckin' wail on at things what ain't being deserving on it.
[Action.]
it's a little awkward, yes. because now his cheeks are burning and so are his knuckles. yeah, he knows that he can stop punching it now. but Karkat doesn't entirely want to. because beating something is a lot easier than just having to face the problem that just always seems to bubble under the surface. where he kind of has to pretend that he doesn't really have an idea what's going on, but understands enough that it kind of hurts. ]
It's an inanimate object, Gamzee. The sole purpose of this thing is to be wailed upon.
[Action.]
[He laughed, not very kindly, casting his gaze at the floor before returning it to Karkat.]
Better to fuckin' beat on what be givin' you the mother fucking grief direct.
[He jostled the guy around a little before dropping him back on his feet.]
[Action.]
Can't. Never could. Probably part of the fucking problem.
[ Karkat... punching Gamzee. intentionally. yeah, that's never likely to happen. ]
[Action.]
[His response is terse, his face emotionless.]
[Action.]
[Action.]
You want me to all fuckin' be up and giving you a God damn rundown of my motherfucking day!? The fuck you want me to say to you, motherfucker!? I ain't some rot-pan spewin' no verbose motherfuckin' diarrhea drivel on you no fucking more.
[Action.]
[Action.]
[Action.]
[Action.]
[Action.]
[Action.]
[Action.]
[Action.]
[Action.]
[Action.]
[Action.]
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