UnGrand: As Above, So Below

by the_knight_of_void

Summary:

He could absolutely throw a fit right now, being walked down the aisle. It'd serve no purpose but to make Karkat feel better and let out what steam he could in kicking up a fuss and embarrassing the Ampora line. The drawback is that he wouldn't be punished by simply being locked in a room, no, because after this he'd officially belong to the young Prince and then things would really get shitty, and Karkat isn't really up to finding out just how much.

Karkat feels it before it happens, the shattering of the high windows, some gut feeling he has making him turn his head for just a moment, seconds before the stained glass comes apart and rains down in shards over the crowd.

or

Karkat is plucked up into an arranged marriage, but The Messiahs have other plans in mind.

Alternately Titled: The Ungrand Epic of Karkat Vantas

Notes:

Hello to you all.

I will admit it, that this is actually one of my RPs. My friend, who had been playing Gamzee for me, hasn't been online, for the amount of time that I've known them, for a long time. I'm worried to the point of anxiety, to where my head comes up with a numerous amount of possibilities of what might have happened to them. Some are mild, like maybe they're just seriously really busy and I shouldn't worry about them so much; others are to the extreme, like something truly awful could have happened. But there's really nothing else I can do.

I'm wondering if they might have been wrongly banned and just haven't been able to be appealed yet, or if I'm just overthinking and overimagining, jumping to the worst of conclusions.

Either way, if this is the only way I can reach out to you, to at the very least let me know you're doing alright, I'd love to hear from you again.
I won't lie and say I don't care about the rps, because I do a little, but more than that, more than anything else, I just want to know that you're okay.

Chapter 1: As Above, So Below

Today was that day, the day his life ended. Karkat sighs, looking at his reflection in the dressing room he'd been left in. He looked soft-- of course he did, the entirety of his biological makeup was soft, meant to be that way to better entice others too him like any other breeder. Almost any other breeder would be thrilled to be in his place, having been picked from his small village to be given to a seadweller, to the heir of a high ranking noble, the second highest achievement for those like him, meaning that he'd usually be taken care of, put into the lap of luxury.

 

Yeah, right, like the prick wouldn't abuse Karkat for his color alone, the marriage was a sham and Karkat knew that just from the way his mate-to-be looked at him with nothing but rapacious intent. The moment they were away from the eyes of others, Karkat would be nothing more than a glorified bucket doll and incubator, made to pump out heirs until his husband grew tired of him. He hadn't wanted it before, and this situation certainly made him want it less. A thing like this...Karkat would have preferred to be wed to someone he had even an inkling of liking for.

 

Anything could happen. He's practically begging for it, silently sending his pleas to whatever deity out there would bother to listen and take pity on some poor mutie breeder. As if. If only. Such instances only happen in books, like the romance Karkat would rather this be instead of a farce wedding. He'd already tried fighting and being difficult in the way that only Karkat could be, and it didn't get him anywhere but locked in a room.

 

The white gown he's wearing has all the frills, bells and whistles a seadweller can afford, almost immobile with the amount of tulle under the skirt and heavily laden with gems from veil and horns to toe. Underneath they even made him wear white, lacy lingerie, gartered stockings and some gauzy thing over his flat chest, the material constantly rubbing over small buds until they were stiff. The makeup is the only thing lightly done on him, just enhancing his natural features, those long lashes and pouty plump lips, all dolled up to be ruined by some finned asshole.

Someone comes to fetch him from the dressing room, his last moments of privacy and freedom vanishing as he's escorted out to the main area. Karkat looks to the tall windows and wishes once again for something to take him from such a nightmare. Just about anything would be welcome at this point.

 

*

 

The hand of favour and fortune never willingly tips to them, but they have their ways of prying open the fingers, wrenching the palm open to steal what is rightfully theirs to own.

 

A mutant breeder is something of a miracle which had taken night upon night to settle into Gamzee's bones -- his lifespan is long, stretching ahead of him as it does his brothers and sisters, yet he'd never thought he'd be fortunate to dye his tent in bright, brilliant vermillion.

There's also securing the bloodline over something more than a symbol, but Gamzee doesn't care for much of what Kurloz has to say.

They share signs and yet the older Indigoblood is too docile, too tame; he should've crushed Gamzee's skull when he was a wiggler.

 

Too late for that.

 

Gamzee pulls taut his bowstring, arrow notched -- released and the intricate stained-glass shatters, high window raining glass down onto a slew of trolls. The rusty rabble outside are the first to scream and scramble, met and subsequently tossed aside by Chahut. Their dull maroon and brown paint the paved walkways as Gamzee shoots out the rest of the windows -- accidentally nailing a Teal in the skull.

With all the windows shattered, a small figure jumping into the main hall, Gamzee tosses his bow and quiver aside, and grabs his clubs. The tumble from roof to ground hardly has an impact on him, high as he is on the spectrum, and he joins his brothers and sisters in the grand hall just as they've begun to dig into the meatier trolls.

Anything above Teal poses a bit of challenge; more blades, more swings.

Thankfully, for Gamzee, everyone below Olive has either died or fled, and he's able to slink his way to the dias without much incident.

 

Unlike the seadwellers -- unlike most trolls -- Indigobloods travel in groups, raiding and pillaging and looting within various Kingdoms. The closest thing they have to any semblance of a 'capital' would be wherever The Grand Highblood currently resides -- and, last Gamzee heard, he was far South. Gamzee prefers to stay in the far North, where his cool blood isn't irritated by the humidity of warmer climates.

 

The Indigoblood drawfs the seadweller by a few inches -- not much, he's not yet an adult -- but he's tall, all long limbs and sinew. His smile is sharp yet lazy, a club tossed lazily. "Didn't rightly have my belief in your whole being, but Messiahs ain't wrong to bless us none." Gamzee addresses the breeder, taking brief note of his soft features. "You wanna hand a motherfucker what's his?" This, edged in venom, is directed toward the seadweller with a tilt of the chin. "Ain't no way to make nice, stealing and cheating like that."

 

Part of Gamzee thinks to end him here and now; smear his blood upon the dais and retrieve his head as a trophy.

 

*

 

He could absolutely throw a fit right now, being walked down the aisle. It'd serve no purpose but to make Karkat feel better and let out what steam he could in kicking up a fuss and embarrassing the Ampora family. The drawback is that he wouldn't be punished by simply being locked in a room, no, because after this he'd officially belong to the young heir and then things would really get shitty, and Karkat isn't really up to finding out just how much. Glancing nervously over the crowd until he spots Kanaya, his dearest and probably closest friend, looking back at him with worried pity in her newly jaded eyes, also with him whereas she was not happy with his arrangement either. It should be her giving him away, one precious person giving him to another precious person, that's how it should have been.

 

Karkat feels it before it happens, the shattering of the high windows, some gut feeling he has making him turn his head for just a moment, seconds before the stained glass comes apart and rains down in shards over the crowd, some pieces big enough to actually slice or pierce into a troll, Karkat flinching back in his shock. It seems the rest of the windows follow example, panic rising higher and higher within the cathedral along with the cries outside of it, confusion spreading fear. A figure leaps in through the window, and then a few more, landing effortlessly and revealing their painted attackers; Indigobloods weren't unheard of, but they were often described as bogeymen to scare young pupae into obedience, if they didn't behave then they'd be taken to be used as paint.

 

One walks amongst the chaos like it's nothing, coming toward the dias where Karkat and his betrothed stood, Karkat balking at his sheer height while his body tensed to react to flight or fight-- even if he was a soft breeder, he was still a troll. Eyes that had been touched purple but were still grey languidly regard Karkat and his scorched coloring, but it's hard to decipher what exactly he says. His attention moves on to the seadweller, or so Karkat thinks, basically telling the Ampora heir to give Karkat to him, as if either of them would go along with that. "And what is yours?" Karkat snorts, "I'm not even his, nevermind yours." His mouth had a chance and it ran with it, Karkat's own stubborn streak flaring back to life.

 

*

 

"Looks like he finna make you his." Gamzee retorts with a snort of laughter, while a surprisingly small Indigoblood dances around the rabble, taking swipes and stabs where he can.

He can't hold off everyone, however, and Chahut is known to take her time in all things -- still at the entrance of the building, axe thwacking into any unfortunate souls which catch her eye.

 

"Ain't it these fish-fuckers what like making them puns, or's it those other ones? Don't matter much, I suppose." The middlebloods -- Teal, Jade, and Cerulean -- are the worst off, and Gamzee handles the first broad-shouldered Navy to approach him with a quick crack of a club across the head. Bones audibly shatter and the large troll falls, but Gamzee knows he's not dead. "Anyway," one of his clubs now sports a smear of deep, rich navy, "Kurloz'd be able to fill you in on all the finer details, most precious brother of mine, but even I don't get my listen on to that long-winded motherfucker. Short's that Messiahs up and made you to be mine, and who the fuck am I to defy the Messiahs?" Gamzee leans on the dais, purposefully putting himself between the Prince and his 'mate-to-be'.

The Navyblood on the ground twitches, like he might be trying to get up.

 

Gamzee offers the small troll a smile, tipping his head. "Don't tell me you up and wanna get all matrimonial with this heretic, brother. 'Sides, we goin' through all this trouble," he gestures toward the room being cleared - either by trolls scrambling to safety, or being slaughtered, "just for you. Came all the way down from where's comfortable, too. The sea be stinkin' like that shit needs to go step in an ablution trap." Gamzee hopes he won't have to chase down the mutant.

Not that a mutant could run from him -- but he has no knowledge of the palace layout. It'd take more time and more effort, and give more trolls more chances to get in their way.

 

Not that he'd ever planned on being discreet, but there's a time and a place for the joy of slaughter.

 

"C'mon, brother, why don't you pick up all your skirts and we'll take a reverse-walk down this aisle -- or a brother could carry you, if that be to your preference." He chuckles at the idea, hauling his mate all the way to rendez-vous with Kurloz and the scant others left behind.

 

*

 

Karkat won't even acknowledge the pun, he's had enough of them whenever he's had to listen to Ampora prattle on and on about droll things. Even a blueblood is unable to take him down, meanwhile Karkat glances in disdain at Ampora, placed higher on the spectrum but looking very much like he'd simply wilt if the indigoblood so much as flinched at him-- so much for getting a seadweller husband if he was going to act like a wimp. But, this was starting to seem more and more like a chance to escape, if both purple-hued trolls ended up keeping each other busy. Karkat even sees that Kanaya is still alive, if disoriented, slumped and dazed against a wall but looking over at him.

 

"Oh, so I'll just exchange one captor for another, right. Well, his I am not. And neither am I yours, for that matter." To Karkat it's as simple as that, boldly going to move past the both of them in the dias, "Sorry you both wasted your time but hopefully there's some other breeder pet who can take my place," just as Karkat had started into a run, Ampora makes a grab for him, almost dragging him back and making Karkat yelp from the pain at his wrist being pulled so sharply, almost dropping as he loses balance on the heels he's wearing.

Hissing harshly at Karkat's ear, "Oh you're not going anywhere. You are to be wed to me and we'll consummate it right here if we have to, with an audience." Hearing that makes him struggle, beating delicate hands on Ampora's arm or wherever else he could reach

 

Kanaya is a divine gift that's too good for Karkat, truly, rushing the seadweller and being enough of a surprise that he lets go of Karkat's wrist, allowing him to stumble back to balance only for her scoop him up as she runs past those fighting and fleeing-- only to have the way blocked by a massive indigo woman, a couple others ignoring their fights to surround and corner him and Kanaya, those who still could fleeing immediately.

 

*

 

"Feisty little one, ain't he?" Chahut chuckles, looming over the two smaller trolls -- she's not yet an adult, either, but she's the eldest around. Her sclera are transitioning from a bright yellow to their natural deep orange, her irises holding more purple than Gamzee's own. "And what's this Jade doin' so far from her peers...? Think my little blue was in need of some fresh paints..." Her voice is a slow, deep drip of honey.

Gamzee has no interest in the seadweller -- not enough to prioritise him over the fleeing mutant -- and joins his gaggle with glee. "Wondrous job! But, y'know, Karako don't like spilling the blood of his precious sisters. Got a motherfucking complex like that." The bloodied, knife-wielding Indigoblood honks in response.

 

He's in a prime spot to thrust his knives into the Jadeblood's backside, completely cripple her and leave her for dead -- but he's been avoiding the Jades, letting them flee while he slashed at other foes.

"Don't we all?" Chahut responds, hefting her axe easily over her shoulder.

 

Gamzee laughs, nudging past his brothers and sisters. Even with his height, his horns only come to Chahut's chin -- and she's slouched, relaxed. "Fuss-Fangs, you ain't looking like the type of bitch to let a brother have what the Messiahs gave him. Not unless we take both your hands." Karako honks at that, jumping in place; the knives on his belt cling dangerously as he does so. "Right, right," Gamzee laughs, "so, we could just take your whole self, along with the mutant. Maybe could satisfy a whole lot of motherfuckers. Karako don't gotta see no green spilled, and my sister's sister could get her a donation." He's rambling, as if the thick tension in the air doesn't reach him.

 

His brows raise, and he gingerly reaches out to tap Karkat's shoulder with the tip of his bloodied club. "Your choice. Any type of running, though, is gonna get your speedy strut pods all severed from your body -- Marvus out in the town, just in case. He a cool motherfucker like that. Knows if a bitch be deserving death or not." He's sure Marvus is the only known -- and only liked -- Indigoblood around.

The only reason they were able to act so quickly, interrupt the wedding, was due to Marvus being sent a request to perform -- as if he'd ever stand in some Violetblood palace and praise The Empress. That's not really their scene.

 

*

 

Kanaya had a tendency to bite more than she could chew and stick through it to the end, Karkat feeling her bristle as they're closed in. He tightens his grip and even places a gentle hand on her cheek. She may have been stronger than the average jade but Karkat certainly doesn't want to test that out with her against over three Indigos, but oh would she try. They're not quite moirails, but they're for sure a little more than friends, practically clade, and it'd hurt him indefinitely for something to happen to Kanaya.

"Don't!!" His resolve cracks, just a little, for concern to show through, "Leave her alone. Just...," Again, between another rock and hard place. When Ampora's people came for him, Ampora who was now looking absolutely miffed that he had been ignored, there was only one choice, which was Karkat not getting one at all. Here he's given two, go willingly and quietly or try and run, just see what happens if they do.
Karkat's expression hardens and he wiggles out of Kanaya's arms to stand with the extra inches the heels afford him, even though it's still not enough for him to intimidate who he presumes is the leader of the wedding-crashing party. "....I'll go. Just leave her alone--"

 

" Karkat," Kanaya interjects, obviously against this, but what else could they do? It's Karkat they're after and who knows what'd happen to her if she went too. "Just take me and be done here, leave and leave her." His scorched red eyes glare with determination up at the head of the invading party.

 

*

 

Chahut's gleeful laughter rings loudly in the hall, her sharp fangs on display.

"Listen to your palemate," she calms quickly, quietly, "elsewise you'll find a nice page in my scrapbook. Little Blue would be mighty jealous..." The eldest Indigo looks as though she's sizing the Jade up -- as if she could take a hand or horn for a trophy -- but Karako's honking, distressed, fisting his hands into the back of Kanaya's dress.
He may be small, but he digs in his heels, and wrenches the Jadeblood further from his companion.

Gamzee clicks his tongue, eyes dropping to Karkat.

"That was the motherfucking plan, brother of mine. Didn't need someone else busting in to fuck it all over." Gamzee palms his clubs off to Chahut, and wastes no time in hefting Karkat up.

 

"Karako, hold the Jade for a while. Don't wanna get to killing her none." Karako honks in reply, watching as Gamzee and Chahut leave the palace.

Outside, the ground is spattered in smears of maroon and brown, with spurts of mustard-yellow standing out. They step over bodies without thought.

They meet up with their caravan just outside the city, where dwellings become sparse. Marvus, minimally bloodied, spares them a smile. An identical pair of very young Indigobloods, however, immediately run to Gamzee.

Their small hands grip at the layers of Karkat's dress, tugging out of curiosity.

"Is this the one?" One asks, standing up on her toes.

"Can we play with him?" The other asks, an exact mirror of his twin.

Gamzee hefts Karkat, bounces the mutant in his arms.

"Nah, this motherfucker precious. He ain't gonna take your games well." The Indigoblood has been half-distracted by the feel of Karkat's body throughout the entire long walk; they're soft, smell lovely, and they're deliciously warm.

Gamzee hops into the back of the caravan, where Kurloz sits, silently sewing. The elder Indigoblood acknowledges Gamzee, while Gamzee ignores him entirely. Purposefully.

He sets Karkat down atop a pile of pillaged clothing, setting himself right beside the troll.

 

"So, Karkat's your name? A motherfucker can call me Gamzee."

Chapter 2: Divined Importance

Notes:

To my friend: I may have done some tweaking and correcting, just spelling mostly, whatever I've caught while skimming through, things to make reading smoother but nothing to the integrity of our rp as a whole. I'm second-guessing myself, but I've already started, so I should see it through.

We have 8 chats in total, 9 if you count our ooc chat for shitposting and memes. I think I'm going to put the others up as well, just in case you see those instead of this one. I started with this one because it's the original that started it all, and because I remember you have it from when we had to move the chat to a new thread for site reasons.
I hope to speak with you again soon.

Whatever it is for Jades that the smaller clown-- Karako --has, Karkat could be glad for it, watching his clademate drag forward only to be held back by basically a wriggler. The distressed and almost pleading look on his face must be genuine because Kanaya takes one look at him and for the most part isn't struggling so hard, turning back to Karkat, "Don't worry about me, please don't go with them, you don't...."

Except he does, they both know the horror stories and rumors that go around about the raiding Indigobloods, things that happen to the abducted-- Kanaya has old, old records in the books and tomes she's taken from the caverns, and that has to say something.

"No, you don't worry about me, Kanaya--!?" Karkat doesn't have much time in responding, squeaking as he's lifted and only struggling on a minor scale, just enough to be a reminder that he didn't like this and that he was going to be as difficult as possible. Looking back toward Kanaya, the closest thing to a palemate he has being left behind, being both guarded and held back by Karako. They exchange but looks and calling out in subvocal chitters until Karkat can't see her anymore once they leave the palace; Ampora seemingly flabbergasted that his bride was being run off with calling out for them to stop, but nobody takes much interest in him. His heart sinks a little, but not as much as it could have, knowing that she's..hopefully..going to live and be okay.

Outside it is nothing but a flat-out massacre, bodies and spatters of various bloods everywhere, no splatter higher than cerulean and suspiciously devoid of jade. Karkat's never seen such gore in his life, feeling his throat freeze up and his gut almost lurch. Scrunching his eyes shut and tightening whatever hold he has on his new captor until he's sure that they'd passed the sea of corpses and cadavers, opening them to see they were well a ways on the outskirts of the city. Did so many really have to die?

The caravan company sits in wait, likely for the party's return with Karkat in tow, a few other indigobloods waiting for them. He's surprised, seeing two identical trolls, young pupae, they seem. It's not unheard of, but extremely rare, probably even more than Karkat. They're very young, and so very cute, so Karkat sees their curiosity as nothing more than innocent, even if uncomfortable with the attention. The request is put down and they're moving on to the back of a caravan, Karkat being let down into a pile and eyeing the quiet Indigo already inside. His captor's name is Gamzee, who Karkat notes looks similar to the quiet one, but his attention is quickly taken back as the other sits right next to him, that gaudy wedding dress reminding him when he flinches that its going to be hard to move freely. Karkat huffs, "A motherfucker can get the hell out of my personal bubble, Gamzee ." He said his name, that's polite enough, isn't it?

 

*

 

"Yeah?" The Indigoblood challenges with a lazy smile.

"And how big's this motherfucking personal bubble of yours, 'cause you was just clinging something fierce up on my carapace with no issue." He chuckles, knows he's just serving to annoy Karkat -- but their captives tend to either cry, plead, or spit at them.

That Karkat isn't a weakling puts his heart at ease.
Sitting up, the Indigoblood tugs on a tuft of white tulle.

"You ain't attached to this, is you? Looks like it'll go for a real pretty boonie -- and ain't too good to travel in, all puffed up like some purrbeast." He releases his hold on the skirt, and pats the pile beneath them.

"If we got shit what fits the twins, we got shit what'll fit you. How 'bout...," Gamzee absently rifles through the pile, tossing out items of all sizes, colours, and make.
It doesn't take long for Karako to join up with them, panting, as blood-spattered as Chahut and Gamzee. Marvus managed to keep himself mostly clean, although they still start off, lurching away from the stink of salt and sea.
Gamzee tosses out a large burgundy shift, tattered but otherwise suitable.

 

"For now, we gonna be travelling with my most hideous of brothers, Kurloz. Should really be his mate, but motherfucker ain't got the want in him. Too busy with all his mundane fuckery to join in the real joviality." His mate should probably wear something better than a shift, and that has Gamzee looking twice at Kurloz -- who hasn't stopped his idle sewing.

"Distasteful as he be, motherfucker's good with his hands. What you like to wear? Bet he could make it." At this, Kurloz only glances up for a second -- and he could be Gamzee's twin if there weren't an obvious age difference in them.
He's larger, yet scrawnier; his shoulders are broader and his hair wilder, his eyes filled in more than his younger companion's. They even share the same horns, as much as Gamzee hates the fact.

"The mutant should be clad in a garment lined with Lusus fur." The older troll finally speaks up, although his voice is deep and unpleasant.

"Mutants run hotter than Burgundies. We either stay central, or the mutant wears furs." Kurloz advises, and Gamzee hums, looking over at Karkat.

"That'd be cute. Lil' furry motherfucker for me to carry around. How 'bout it, Karkat?"

 

*

 

Having that thrown back in his face has his cheeks dust with his color, Karkat biting his lip before scowling at the other. He so was not clinging...just, not looking at all the bodies. When Gamzee holds a bit of the tulle up Karkat's about to snap at him an accusation of stripping him right there, but it turns out he only means to sell the ridiculous dress; sure it had been beautiful, but in the most eyesore way possible. With all the fancy material and gems on it, it would fetch a pretty amount of coin.

"I'm not...not attached to it..," No, what he is attached to and what would kill him is being seen in the stuff he's wearing underneath-- by no means is it unsightly on him, his body is meant to entice and the lacy undergarments just help that along.

There's a few greetings from outside, Karkat hearing that Karako had returned, wondering how to get a moment with him to ensure his thoughts about Kanaya. He's distracted from his thoughts as Gamzee brings out something in burgundy cloth, a simple shapeless shift. It's not the worst thing and Karkat considers it, though looking to Gamzee as he talks. Introducing his brother, Kurloz, and having Karkat raise a brow at what he says, that Karkat should have been the elder one's mate. Didn't have the want? Well, that was....a good thing, for Karkat, right?

When Kurloz says for him to wear furs Karkat realizes that they're leaving the city, going far from where his village is too, he'd never been anywhere else on the Alternian continent except those two places. "We're..what?? You mean you came from the northside??" Would his body even stand the cold climate? The brother is right, Karkat's the hottest blood there is right now, "I've never been anywhere further than the city, won't I freeze over?"

 

*

"Well..." Gamzee chews on that question a moment, reaching out to press the back of his hand to Karkat's warm cheek, "probably not." He concludes, able to feel a residual heat even when he's removed his hand.
Carrying Karkat, having the mutant cling to him, was like having a tame ball of fire attached to him.

"Either way, not like I'm gonna bring you with me to freeze the fuck to death. You're my mate ." He accentuates the word, directs it at Karkat -- like they'd already had a ceremony, made it grand and official.

 

"You'll get yourself a good spot right on up against the fire, and we'll get us some fine-ass Lusus fur for your fine ass to up and wear. If our usual place's too fucking cold for you, then I'm guessing we'll move South." Although he likes a good chill, Gamzee's not going to have his mate waddling around half-frozen.
He sizes Karkat up, and the dress -- he can see the value in it, the sheer decadence which drips from its every pore -- but he can also see where it wants to draw his eye.

"Y'know, fish-fucker had no taste. Your blood's red. Why ain't you got no red on you? Miraculous colour, and every shade of precious." Gamzee unties the knot at his waist, hissing at Kurloz to keep his eyes down.
Chahut, in another caravan with the twins, calls out that they'll soon be at a river.

"You wanna get changed?" Gamzee's already shifted out of his bloodied shirt, tossing it aside. Now, he peels off his undershirt and hose.

He'd hated dressing in city fashions; too tight and restrictive for his tastes.

 

"Not like I ain't gonna see what's under that dress eventually -- but I ain't gonna do nothing so wrong like fuck you over a bunch of corpses, Karkat." Naked as the day he stumbled from the caverns, Gamzee grabs a pair of baggy harem pants, and slips comfortably into those.
From his body, it's clear he's been in a multitude of fights; claw and blade have bit into him, as well as the occasional piercing wound.

Aside from that, he's all taut, tight muscle. A contrast to his laidback mannerisms.

 

"Wonder," he starts, settling back down again, the waist of his pants comfortably low on his hips, "if that fish gonna come after us. Karkat, he like you, or anything?" His bare feet whisper across the caravan floor as he crosses his legs, "I like you. I mean, I came all the way down here to get you, didn't I? That's some type of like."

 

*

 

Karkat holds stock still as chilled skin touches his, blinking almost too much and almost holding his breath, feeling heat rise in his face once more, before Gamzee pulls away and concludes that he probably wouldn't freeze. Wasn't as cold as his betrothed, but not as watered-down clammy either, a relief. Karkat takes a fast breath, relaxing better in his spot, though still not totally, rolling his eyes with a hint of his exasperation and blooming cheeks as Gamzee verbally claims him as his mate.

"..'m not yours..," he grumbles under his breath, not meant to be heard. Although, he does perk with some interest hearing about the place they were going to in the north. The way he talks is awfully considerate-- actually, his ride so far in the caravan has been pretty considerate considering the kind of treatment Karkat thought he would be getting (you know, what usually happens to people that get kidnapped, bound up, threatened, humiliated and such). He's very much free and it's only been noted that he's a mutant but nothing more, other kidnappees would be pretty jealous of him, he thinks.

Gamzee gets him to snort, first for dissing Ampora's taste and then for not knowing what was custom for things like this. "You're right about his taste, the asshole wouldn't know it if it slapped him in the face," seeing where the other's eyes drift though and giving another scowl for it as he leans back on his arms where the shape of the dress will show off what it's meant to even as he's sitting (well hey, if for nothing else than money, all that tulle makes for a comfy lounge), "There's no red because even a violet isn't brave enough to use it. This whole getup is white and clear crystal for 'purity', so no heirs I pump out end up with any 'undesirable' traits."

Though the second it becomes obvious that Gamzee was changing right then and there, stripping down to nothing, Karkat is almost buried in the tulle with an awkward noise in his throat, hands over his eyes. He's still asking Karkat stuff while he's naked, and it's not that he's never seen anyone naked but still. Karkat can hear clothes dropping to the floor and an involuntary peek through his fingers shows more body than he meant to see (along with long, lean muscle and skin criss-crossed with old scars).

"Bold of you to think that-that you're gonna see anything under this! I'll change when I have a moment to myself." His cheeks are starting to burn but at least he can vouch for the clown raider having more class than Ampora, who was ready to do just that, bend him over the altar with corpses and rogues as witness.

Eventually there's pants, to which Karkat takes some relief, dropping his hands even though the red dust still sits on his cheeks, positively burning. Gamzee sits back down, but now Karkat's eyes trail without his permission down a corded body, just until he can catch himself. Karkat lets out a bittersweet laugh, "His ego's been wounded, I think he just might." Though Karkat is blinking at him when he posits that Ampora might like him, almost sputtering a laugh, "Oh, no, I wouldn't use 'like'. Probably 'want', maybe 'obsessed'," an Ampora scorned tends to destroy things. After that line of thought, Karkat fixes Gamzee with a look, "I don't think your 'like' and mine are the same thing. Today is the first day you and I have ever met, and the fact that you came here based on a 'divine revelation' doesn't really put you anywhere favorable."

 

*

 

"I'll wound more than just his fucking ego if he gets it in his thick skull to show his face anywhere near you. Ain't caught myself a big fish in a long while." Gamzee sighs, taking in the dusting of red over Karkat's cheeks.
It's cute -- Karkat's cute -- in a way that confuses Gamzee.

He wants to protect Karkat like one would want to protect their palemate, and he doesn't want to rape Karkat -- but he doesn't mind their feisty banter, the bite-back Karkat gives. Gamzee doesn't know which quadrant they'll fall into, if they fall into a quadrant -- would they?

Aside from his fellow Indigobloods, no one really bothers getting too close to them. The most experience Gamzee has, concerning his quadrants, would be his distaste for Kurloz, and the pale-dance he does with Marvus. Chahut tends to mediate, bring reason into heated conversations -- even so, Gamzee wouldn't classify any of his brothers or sisters as his quadrantmates.
He scratches his head, pointed ear flicking.

"Sure, we ain't got history , but I like what I seen and heard so far. Can't go telling me that's not a type of like, right there." He cracks his neck, sighs.

"You ain't gotta like me right now, though. You and I, we got us all the motherfucking time in the world, Karkat." The caravans come to a slow stop, and Gamzee gets to his feet.
He takes Karkat's hands and hauls the smaller troll up, as well.

"C'mon, time to wash the fuck up. You want sister Chahut watching you change? One of the most devout bitches I ever come across." Gamzee hops off the back of the caravan, out into a dense forest.

A stream trickles nearby.

 

Karako and the twins empty out of their caravan, while Marvus and Chahut climb from another. Kurloz seems fixed in his rhythm of stitching, so Gamzee leaves him, and instead helps Karkat down from the back of the caravan.

The twins are already in the stream, jumping and splashing, collecting round pebbles from silt. Karako is dipping his face into the water, trying to wash multi-coloured blood and paint off his face, horns, and arms.

Chahut doesn't seem to mind the blood dried to her knees, standing watch as if anyone would dare bother a gaggle of Indigobloods.
Gamzee takes Karkat over to the stream, which is quickly sullied by blood and paint.

 

"Sister," he calls to Chahut, "Karkat needs to get himself outta this fancy-ass shit. Won't trust me to watch him none. Might trust you more." That gets a chuckle from Chahut, who smiles down at Karkat.
"Don't know why a brother has the notion in his head, but I'll take the compliment. Come, little one, that garb reeks of those heathens." She moves slowly, like they have all the time in the world, behind a crowding of bushes and thin trees.

Not much for privacy - especially with Chahut's purple eyes on Karkat - but it's better than changing out in the clearing.
The other Indigobloods, from Karako to Marvus - even the twins - don't care as much, and strip as they see fit to clean themselves and one another.

 

*

 

That in particular is something that can be agreed upon, even if Karkat doesn't have the combat strength to do so, if he could at least give that snooty-sneering-faced pompous asshole one good hard decking that'd be enough for him; even for his size and lack of strength, he's been told he throws a mean hook and he's proud of it.

Though Gamzee says something surprisingly endearing-- certainly more than Ampora ever did, acting like he was entitled to Karkat, his overall behavior before their wedding was simply disgusting. Where Ampora had never even reassured Karkat or even mentioned liking him, Gamzee reiterates that he already has some attachment to him, basically saying with time grows affection, which has the bloom of color slowly crawling back to his face. It makes him turn away to hope for the heat to subside quickly.

Which thankfully it does by the time they've arrived at the river, the caravans slowing and the sound of others climbing out as Gamzee pulls Karkat up before he can protest, but the sound of cleaning up from this dress does sound nice, taking the shift with him. Gamzee calls for Chahut, the tall Indigo woman who honestly scares Karkat a little, to come watch over him with Karkat sputtering that he doesn't need watching.

 

She's already there though and being nude behind bushes is much better than out in the open, Karkat sighing as he's left with an eerie set of eyes on him from his watchwoman. Something needs to fill the silence while he's changing, slipping his arms out of the sheer sleeves first and scrambling for a topic in his head, "So..I heard you mention your 'Little Blue' earlier, are they a quadmate?" Karkat decides instead of letting the dress drop, he'd pull it over his head, going under all the tulle like a dome, pulling the burgundy shift inside to pull over his head. If Gamzee wanted to sell it then that was fine, but Karkat is keeping the underthings because he's not about to go around with nothing under the shift like that and advertise his nook, he already has to deal with the occasional sugar scent rolling off of him to do that.

 

Lifting the skirts of the tulle dome, Karkat stands and pulls everything down in place, the shift coming to his calves. Underneath he still has the gauzy top and the gartered underwear and stockings, still wearing the fancy heels that are impractical for outdoors but they'll have to do until he can replace them. Washing the stuff off of his face is a must, though even with that, he's still long-lashed and plump-lipped, cheeks rosy from scrubbing and trying not to look toward those who were stripped bare in the river.

 

*

 

"No quadrantmate, little one. Too young, and too blasphemous, besides." Chahut's insubstantial answer gives more away than her actual words, but she doesn't elaborate further.
Gamzee's the one, face dripping, who walks over to Karkat -- still bare-chested, and now clean-faced.

There's still youth in his features, clinging at the corners. Gamzee's certainly far from the oldest troll in the group, but age doesn't determine whatever loose hierarchy they have.

It's nothing like Karkat, however, who looks soft and rounded.
The Indigoblood can't help but drop to a crouch beside Karkat -- perhaps a bit close -- and tilt their head, peer at the breeder troll.

 

He's seen some softer lowbloods, relying on their pitiable nature to keep them alive, but Karkat looks different from even that. Better. His skin looks smooth, his black lips plump; cheeks rounded and lashes long.
It's no wonder Ampora was willing to bend Karkat over in front of anyone and everyone.

Part of Gamzee understands that want; it'd be so easy to tip Karkat into the stream, hold him down and fuck into him. The mutant could thrash and scream all he wants.

 

Gamzee puts that thought out of his mind with a chitter, his own black lips peeling into a smile.
"Ain't much," he admits, "but we'll get you something what to cover your strut pods soon enough." He's liking more and more the idea of Karkat engulfed in furs, his adorable face peeking out while he huddles close to the fire.

"Looking good, though. Better than whatever motherfucker we took that shit off." A waft of something sugar-sweet crosses him, and he leans in, balanced on the balls of his feet.
The bulb of his nose touches Karkat's cheek, and he rumbles in satisfaction.

"You reek all types of good, motherfucker." He noses down to the mutant's neck, all but purring.

"Ain't no perfume what I ever smelled." He murmurs, using Karkat to keep his balance while he noses at the hot-blooded troll's neck.

 

*

 

So just a clade friend, if Chahut's answer was anything to go by, Karkat nodding with a soft, thoughtful chirr but she doesn't say any more than that. Cupping cool stream water in his hands and splashing his face despite the shiver it gives him as Gamzee walks over. Stooping so close he nudges Karkat, already turning his head to exclaim about it when cool fingers do it for him, making him snap his mouth on the words he'd been about to say.

 

It feels like he's checking out his face so Karkat does the same, albeit a bit more nervously, seeing Gamzee without his paint. Okay, he isn't that bad on the eyes, if he were to admit it, straight angles and sharp highblood features, still some spots of grey in his irises denoting an idea of his youth. Somewhat seadweller delicate that's been mashed with highblooded soldier, Karkat thinks. After what might be a minute, the way purple gaze sweeps over him begins to change and instills a level of discomfort that Karkat is quite familiar with, his own sun-scorched eyes narrowing. But by then he'd already let go, the glint going away and Karkat left with his pusher hammering ribcage without permission.

"Well, when you do, these could probably get you as much as that dress, maybe more if you think it out the right way," Kanaya managed-- read as took over --an abandoned mending shop, that turned into her tailoring, mending and minor clinic shop, as she was very skilled; despite their small village, Karkat learned a lot from minding her shop every now and then as well as watching her when traders and merchants visited. "I could probably figure out how much exactly you can g--!?"

Gamzee leans in far too close for comfort, nose against his cheek and lips just barely brushing skin, throat rumbling low and close to his ear as his face goes hot to steaming. "H-Hey, what...!" He realizes what's up when Gamzee takes a deep inhale in the crook of his neck, arms wrapping around him like a steel cage as more of the other's weight leans into him. Karkat's hands can slip between whatever space there is and push against bare, scarred chest, but to no avail. "--dammit, hey-- Gamzee, get a grip! Aren't you gonna let go!? If you don't you'll regret it!"

Frustration has him struggling, and Karkat can't hold back anymore, dipping his hand in the cool water and splashing as much as he can at Gamzee's face. Next up on the tier is a knuckled kiss if Karkat would be so lucky.

Notes:

We were still at the beginning of building up our world here, though I think we were already making progress to the rapport that we have now. I go back and read them every now and then.
Maybe I shouldn't.

To you, and to everyone else: Please be safe.

Chapter 3: All

The highblood clicks in his throat, ear flicking.
Gamzee pulls away and returns the gesture, careful to avoid silt and sand in the splash of water which hits Karkat.

"What? Can't a brother smell his mate when his mate gets to reeking so lovely?" He keeps his voice low, the both of them dripping.

"No fair!" A pair of young voices cry out, splashing over to them half clothed.
They're the youngest of the group, not a hint of purple in their eyes; they've hardly been out of the caverns a sweep.

"How come you get to play with him while we don't?" The boy snaps.

"It's not fair." The girl laments.

Their eyes lock, and they burst into giggles.

 

"Never said nothing on a little splashing, but you know how soft lowbloods be, right? This one's extra soft, so you gotta treat him like them glass vials we keep. Though," getting to his feet, Gamzee dwarves the twins, "if you break my mate, I ain't gonna be so quick to up and forgive you." Gamzee steps off, ear flicking until he cleans the water from it.

"I'll be keeping an ocular globe on you." He calls out behind himself, gathering up a pile of tulle and small, glittering jewels.
This, too, reeks of that sugar-sweet scent. Gamzee wants to bury his face in the fabric and inhale.
Back at the shallow stream, while Chahut has Karako hold her hair back for her while she washes off her paint, the twins regard Karkat with a kind of wonder. Too young and sexless, but not stupid; it's the girl who first makes a move, pulling out a handful of smooth pebbles from her pocket.

"I found these." She starts, offering them with cupped hands.

"Do you want them?"
Her twin looks at her, then at Karkat, his brows furrowing.

"What kind of a mate-day gift is that, Barzum?" He crosses his arms over his small chest. His sister eyes him, a smile spreading over her identical features.

"Better than nothing!" She retorts, and they both fall into another fit of giggles.

 

*

 

Karkat clicks back, reproachful, at least until the sound turns into a squeak for getting splashed back, part of his unruly hair matting down on the side of his head. "The last person who did that to me had a bloody nose to show for it," Karkat hisses back-- well, except for Ampora, since he'd have done something horrible as punishment to Karkat.

More splashes are made as the little twins come bounding as best they can toward them, claiming unfairness. They're obviously young, no color at all, and innocently come to figure out how best to play with Karkat that Gamzee wouldn't be upset with. One of them holds out a handful of pebbles and offers it to him, Karkat smiling, "How about you pick one for me, and then that's the one I'll keep?"

 

*

 

The twins lock eyes, both pulling out their collection of stones to compare and contrast.

Pebbles from a random stream aren't the most luxurious thing -- they know this -- but they can't offer glittering jewels and fine make-up like other highbloods. They already know, at their young age, their place in the world.
Eventually, with much whispering and giggling, they choose a smooth, flat stone.

"This is the best one!" The young girl declares.

"It's shiny, and has all these ridges of colour. See?" Her twin points to the gradient of slight colour, smooth grey trasitioning into lighter and lighter shades.

 

Gamzee returns with the ceremonial dress in his arms, the fabric spilling out around him.

"Ain't you a motherfucking brute, Karkat? Threatening to bloody your mate when I ain't even done nothing but get a sniff on you? Shame, motherfucker, shame." He teases, taking his time in waltzing by Karkat.

He returns the dress to the caravan, in which Kurloz continues to work. The mound of tulle and lace is tossed inside as if it mattered naught, although Kurloz perks, looking at the fabric.
They could sell it for a hefty price -- in another Kingdom, far away -- or keep it and use the fine fabric to make clothing for their own. After all, although none of them are particularly picky, they don't dress like typical highbloods.

The jewels and gems are of no use to them, being that they generally abstain from jewellery, but it isn't as if Kurloz couldn't work free the stones and set them aside.
In fact, that might catch a higher price.
Karako returns to his caravan, wringing water from his hair; Marvus follows shortly, and Gamzee returns to the stream, watching the twins pocket and pawn more stones off to Karkat.

"Ain't even done nothing and you already got in the good graces of our youngest motherfuckers, Karkat." Gamzee settles his hand atop Karkat's head, gingerly scratching between the troll's rounded horns.

"What're they gifting my most precious mate?" He leans over, trying to get a look into Karkat's hands.

"Show him! Show him!" The twins chant in unison, muddying their feet on the bank of the stream.

 

*

 

They're amusing to watch whisper back and forth amongst themselves, the girl (Barzum?) pointing out certain things with her twin (??) either agreeing or shaking his head, studiously looking over their stones from the stream until both come to a decision, excited to show Karkat their choice. Their pretty rock is smoothed over by who knows how long of being in the stream and rings of color from being eroded by the water, overall a very pretty stone. "I can keep this one? It's probably the best one I've ever seen in my life," he muses, holding the rock up for the gradient to glint and almost glimmer, "Thank you, both of you."

Gamzee comes by again, glittery and tulle-heavy dress in tow, throwing teases at Karkat as he takes his time passing. "Shame on you for sniffing where you didn't need to be," Karkat retorts with false pleasantness, going so far as to stick his tongue out at Gamzee's back once he actually starts going where he's going. Really, out in the open in broad view of anyone else, doing it so suddenly that it brought red to his face and let him hear his heart pound, feeling Gamzee's cool skin press into his own as he'd been taken in by sugar scent.

After a while it seems most of the group is returning to the caravans, having finished washing up in the stream. Barzum and her brother continue combing through for more stones that end up in Karkat's hands, a variety of rare finds and even one that looked a little glassy, he's going to need a pouch or something to carry them, unless they go into the shift's pockets. Gamzee returns if only to tease him some more, hand landing between his horns and Karkat leaning into the touch for a moment out of instinct before stopping himself. At the twins' insistence, Karkat holds up his palms to show Gamzee their findings, distracting himself from his blunder just then and hoping that it wasn't caught.

 

*

 

It doesn't go unnoticed that, this time, Karkat doesn't complain about being deemed his mate . Maybe it's to cover up that slight push into the palm of his hand, or because he's busy holding up cupped hands enclosing a myriad of smooth stones.

Gamzee chitters, claws continuing their slow drag over Karkat's scalp.

"Everyone gives you stuff like this, my gift's gonna look mighty fucking puny." The twins giggle and run off, pleased smiles plastered over their faces.
Gently, the highblood pats his mate atop the crown of the head.

"Might not be what some other highblood could grab you," he keeps his voice low, "but they'd all shove you in some frilly dress, say some false-as-fuck words on your quadrants, and wouldn't never make good on it. Least we honest, to degrees. Twins got the most honesty in 'em, like all young." Downstream, Chahut's impressive figure rises, and Gamzee takes that as a sign they ought to get going.
Ideally, they'll be far out from any grasping Violetblooded hands before sunrise.

"You can carry all those back?" Gamzee asks, lingering hand finally leaving Karkat's head.

"I'll empty out a satchel for you -- should've done that earlier, but shit's been a busy night, you feel me? Real busy nights getting on down here, waiting for the best time to take you. Never knew if fish-fuck'd rather cull you than let anyone else have you." Gamzee rumbles deep in his throat, gently tugging the back of Karkat's shift.

 

"Bulgeless motherfucker couldn't lift a damn fin." Chahut, bare-faced and finally clean, saunters past them.

"C'mon, us motherfuckers best be going." Although he says that, Gamzee's almost hovering, attracted by Karkat's scent and heat. The mutant looks like he wouldn't put up much of a fight against the local fauna, not to mention other trolls; Gamzee's not keen on the idea of anyone else having him, anyway.

"You'll get all your right and proper tributaries from all us brothers and sisters when we find the right gift. Not just us -- all my brothers and sisters." Gamzee laughs quietly at the idea of passing caravans stopping, paying Karkat tribute while Gamzee dares for challengers.

He'd rather not rip out his kin's throats, but he will if he feels the need.

 

*

 

The twins set off, the mud coming off their feet through the water, giggling and seeming pleased. Karkat regards Gamzee's words, thinking how earlier he was exactly that, shoved into some frilly mess and vowed lies to that wouldn't ever be made true. He exchanged the gilded cage for....well, he didn't know what exactly yet but he'd probably be seeing in the time that he's with Gamzee and his troupe.

Gamzee's put the word 'mate' to him quite a few times that it's obvious Karkat's corrections aren't sticking, at this point he might as well just leave it alone. Even the hand still in his hair is starting to bother him less, and eventually is lifted anyway, though reminding Karkat of his newly acquired gift. "Hm? Yeah, I can..," he's got pockets but getting a satchel or something would be better.

 

Karkat knows that his kidnapping is through the deities the indigos call theirs-- really though, divine revelation?? --, which if he understood correctly was so he could become Gamzee's mate; hearing more detail about their travels puts into perspective how seriously they took getting to him. Chahut comes by to throw insult to Ampora, which isn't wrong, his fiancee couldn't, or even didn't, do a damn thing while Karkat was getting taken, but makes him snort all the same. "That dumb sword and gun he carries are for show, he's never been in real combat I bet," Karkat snickers, though he really shouldn't be talking, since he hasn't been in live combat either.

Gamzee pulls lightly at the back of his shirt, getting Karkat to stand and make the way back to the caravans, stones bumping around in his pocket. Giving a quizzical look to him when he mentions Karkat supposedly being given tributes and gifts, "But...why would I be getting things like that?"

 

*

 

"When The Mirthful Messiahs all see fit to gift us, shit's only polite to gift back. Messiahs know they don't gotta give us nothing." He says this like it's just common sense, lifting Karkat back into the caravan.

"You're awful special, too." He adds, hopping in.

This time, their caravan takes the lead -- and a chittering in Gamzee's throat has Kurloz setting aside his work, moving to the front of the caravan.
He'd been looking over the dress, a few crystals at the hem already delicately removed. Gamzee drops to a crouch, humming while his fingers dance across the stitching.

 

"Fish-fingers had a gun ?" Gamzee abandons the dress, takes and upturns the nearest satchel.

"Ha! Didn't even notice that. Ain't it supposed to be like a bow and arrow but all types of better? Motherfucker should've had the globes to shoot me. Never had to deal with no wound like that, but I bet it's some type of motherfucking agony." Out spill coins, clubs; trinkets and bobbles. It's a mess, but none of them are really intent on keeping excessively clean.
With the newly-emptied satchel, Gamzee returns to Karkat, offering it out.

 

"Wouldn't wanna up and expire just after getting mated, though. That'd be rude." Again, he shifts, pulling the dress and Kurloz's supplies over to him.

After a brief hesitation -- this dress reeks of that sugar-honey scent -- he sets to work idly removing the precious small jewels sewn into the dress.

"Was rude of me to get all on you without your permission, too -- but I was just smelling. It's nice, how you reek all types of lovely, Karkat." Gamzee's starting at the outermost layer, but it'll take them a while; he imagines they'll cannibalise the silk and tulle after selling all the jewels.

"If I asked real polite, would you let a brother enjoy it? You're ripe for some real pile material -- and if that's where we start in matehood and all, then that's where we fucking start. Feel me?"

 

*

 

Karkat always knew he was special-- he's a blood mutant, and a breeder, of course he's fucking special --, but it was more in the 'easy target', capture, kidnap, imprison, enslavement through a wedding way. The way Gamzee says 'special' doesn't sound like any of those and has color creeping onto his face-- he wonders if every little thing is going to do that to him, every word that sounds like praise or randy; getting embarrassed at things is one thing, getting flush-faced because he can't handle nice, thoughtful things being done toward him is another (an expert in that is Kanaya for sure).

He doesn't really have anything to say after that, huffing quietly and settling on top of a pile of clothestuff. Kurloz seemed to have already begun picking gems and crystal out of the dress, obviously a skilled hand from the neat pile of what's been picked so far on a square of cloth, not a stray, fraying string in sight. Karkat instantly perks up to the tips of his ears even to gleefully bag on Ampora some more. "Of course you didn't, he was too shocked to reach for it, probably forgot completely. I bet he wouldn't even have time to load and aim before he'd been hit, I've only ever seen him shoot targets on the range, and his marksmanship ends there."

 

An array of things clatter on the floor from the satchel Gamzee is dumping out, Karkat raising a brow at whatever caegers and things fall out; did anyone...account, er, do inventory for the stuff they've gotten? Karkat used to do it for Kanaya's shop, and he'd gotten real good at it too, eyeing the mess of trinkets just scattered on the floor. "Oh..thanks..," Taking the newly emptied thing from Gamzee prompts Karkat to take the pretty pebbles from his pockets and store them in the bag, seeming quite pleased with the new acquisition.

When he looks up, it's to curiously watch Gamzee hold on to the dress, seeming reluctant to let go of it before deciding altogether to just take it and the sewing supplies toward his brother, setting down to pick at the gemstone and jewel again. Karkat only begins to process that he's making an apology when Gamzee mentions earlier at the river, cheeks fit to steam the whole caravan as he basically says he likes his scent (so do a lot of other people that's been close enough to do so, Gamzee was lucky to get away with a splash). Taken aback a little that he was really asking him, Karkat staring down at his lap and fidgeting with the satchel, "W-Well...I guess if you warn me, then....yeah, that's fine, I feel you..," he begins to mumble the last half of his words, but that seemed fair wait what did he just agree to??; he only asked if he could ask, but never said Karkat had to say yes he gets the feeling he might end up saying yes anyway. Gamzee kept calling them mates but perhaps, if Karkat didn't find a way to get away first (because he is still kind of kidnapped here), easing into that through acting pale seems fair enough.

 

*

 

His gaze snaps up to the mutant, his hands stilling for a brief moment -- then he's back to working, coaxing the first gem free. Adding it to the neat pile Kurloz already had; the elder troll being meticulous, odd in his mannerisms.

Gamzee hates hearing his voice, hates seeing his wan figure; they share the same symbol but Kurloz put up little fight in handing the symbol over to Gamzee. As a fresh wriggler, it would've been easy for Kurloz -- who was already older, tougher -- to kill him. It'd neither be encouraged nor frowned upon.
He's sure Kurloz will clean up the mess of trinkets, and probably relocate them to the twins.

"Then, if I wanted to huddle up on a brother during the daylight hours, would he be so motherfucking kind? Take all sorts of pity on me?" His shoulders slope, go lax, and his gaze falls to the dress.

 

He wonders how much this was comissioned for.

Probably too much; he's unfamiliar with this level of wealth. It's beyond anything a Navyblood would bother to keep on them, and, given that they don't often travel along the coasts, run-ins with seadwellers aren't exactly common.

"I'll be a good motherfucker and keep my fronds all to myself -- didn't that clammy fish ever get up on you? You're all like your own fire, you feel me? Miraculous." Gamzee murmurs, falling into a rhythm as he works free gem after gem.
Kurloz would be quicker at this, but Gamzee's not far behind him in skill, his hands deft, fingers nimble.

 

"Does my mate wanna tell me on himself? 'Sides the motherfucking obvious, I ain't got much knowledge on you. Don't even know your likes. You wanna put some of that right up in my thinkflesh?" The seadweller had an urgency in him to mate with Karkat -- even if Gamzee would've gladly beaten him to a bloody mush before anything could happen -- but Gamzee, while he might want that, doesn't feel the same need.

After all, he's in no hurry to produce an heir -- and, aside from the seadwellers coming after them, that Jadeblood, or Karkat running off, there isn't too much danger.

His biggest concern, right now, are the seadwellers. Anything Cerulean and above became a bigger issue, so a few seadwellers could cause issues.

 

*

 

Still fidgeting, Karkat sucks in his bottom lip to worry with his teeth, practically radiating heat as the red takes over his face and starts to crawl down his neck, "We-- We'll see..," why did it sound like he was asking to cozy up to Karkat in his sleep? It definitely sounded like that (better yet, why didn't Karkat flat out refuse?. Those are the kind of words that start scandals ha, what scandal when according to supposed higher powers he was supposed to be Gamzee's mate?).

 

Karkat snorts, glad for a chance to change the topic, "Ha. You think I'd let him? He certainly tried. That's why they kept me holed up in some room until the ceremony." Karkat was hostile right up to the day, and Ampora couldn't do anything to him because then Karkat would be no good dead or damaged before the seadweller could get what he wanted out of him; Ampora was relying on the marriage to keep Karkat in line, but so much for that.

 

About himself, hm? "Don't know that much about you either, aside from what I'm learning now," like how Gamzee liked his scent, "This is cheating, you know. You're supposed to find these things out on your own, not directly from me..but, I guess I'll help you out." Okay, so his books may have exaggerated how the whole courting process was supposed to be like, sugar-coated it to unrealistic standards which were the core of Karkat's ideals...ideals that he should rethink sooner rather than later considering the circumstances.

"Where to even start...well, I do like reading, it's why I'm smarter than the average village bumpkin..mmn, sweets! Anything sweet is good." Candies and cakes were alright, but his favorite was fresh, sweet fruit. A trader who'd traveled from another continent had brought something from their home country, bartered with Kanaya for some fabrics to take with them and left her with a decent haul of new stuff, including foreign but delicious fruits. "..I miss my clademate, she's always been with me, so it's a little weird without her with me.."

 

*

 

"Don't need no mate more than my own self, clade or otherwise." Gamzee asserts, perhaps too harshly, snapping back to his work rather quickly.
A terse silence threatens to fall on them, broken both by the clinking of jewels and his smooth, subdued baritone.

"I got myself a sweet tooth, too." Tone apologetic, Gamzee keeps his gaze low.

"I like them shiny, hard candies what look like stones. Melt in your nourishment gape." For the first time, Gamzee's grey skin colours -- but not at the cheeks.
He flushes first at the tips of his pointed ears, a light dusting of purple.

"Look, most motherfuckers got someone to miss," Gamzee starts, stumbling through his careful word choice, "and I ain't generous 'nough to sit here and say I'd let you have a clademate when I'm your mate, but -- Brother Karako looks awful small, don't he? Like he'd almost share ages with the twins?" The caravan rocks beneath them, a familiar sensation.

"Motherfucker's almost as old as me. Not even a whole sweep 'tween us. Only small like that 'cause he came out wrong, but this cloistered Jade got it in her head to be healing these sick grubs, and when she sent him out, he kept finding his way back to her." Although the pile of gems beside him is building up, he's hardly made a dent in the tulle of the dress.

"We cross that cloister an awful lot." Gamzee murmurs.

"Chahut got herself a little... friend. Real young. Uses blood for paint like what we do. Calls her 'blue', but bitch Navy all the way. She puts in a request, we fulfill it; Chahut gets to stop missing her blue bitch for a night." His hands stop, and he shrugs.

Gamzee's never had anyone to miss -- not really.
His smile isn't genuine, crooked and half-cocked as he finally raises his gaze to Karkat.

"Everyone got someone they miss... 'cept me. Could avoid it if we settled down, but the Empire wouldn't let us. That ain't how it works, Karkat. Not even a motherfucking bit. Too many clowns in one area, too much communication; look what we do, what we accomplish, with all us spread out over the whole of Alternia. The Empress wouldn't let none of us settle down like she do everyone else. So," he shrugs again, "we just gotta learn to miss, and take what we can get." His gaze drops, and he returns to plucking out precious gems.

"Ain't fair when you get your think on it -- but it ain't been fair for you, either." Now, his lips part, showcasing his sharp fangs.

"Caught 'tween getting fucked by a fish, or dragged all over by clowns. Wish there was 'nother option for you, better option, but I'd like to think I'm a step up from Ampora." He plucks free another gem, setting it aside.

"Least I won't take you when you don't want me... Glad you're considering letting a brother get acquainted all with your scent and warmth. Daylight's awful on your lonesome."

 

*

 

The snap in Gamzee's tone has Karkat flinching back, gradually hunching inward and biting his bottom lip. It's tense in the caravan until he speaks again, softer, unexpectedly sharing his taste for sweets that Karkat looks back up, Gamzee fixated on harvesting gems but the tips of his ears getting a spot of lavender color (he liked hard candies? That's something to keep in mind later).

His brow goes up to his hair almost, learning that Karako was not in fact a pupa; no, his height aside, or lack thereof, he still had a young face, but maybe that was only at a glance...Karkat would have to look again. Karako's aversion to seeing jade blood spilt makes more sense now, how could he with an attachment like that. Chahut's little 'blue', as she'd said, was too young but that doesn't stop her from taking her requests-- Karkat suspects for blood paint.

 

Gamzee has no one to miss, he says, though Karkat gives a cursory glance to where Kurloz is, wondering why he'd say that when it's clear they're from the same get, from horns to face (...were they not on good terms?). Not really able to settle, nevermind altogether, because it made the Empress skittish (now that's a thought), and Karkat's seen firsthand already that they were quite powerful in small groups. Still, wandering instead of having somewhere permanent, somewhere safe to return to, sounds a little more than sad and unfair.

"If you put it that way then I'll give you that, it's at least two steps above being trapped to that imbecile." Karkat sighs, relaxing a little into the pile, even if his face stays dusted with his red at that fanged grin and the implication that Karkat had kind of agreed to. "Don't push it. Yeah, you're better than him, but you still took me from everything I've ever known," he says, only half meaning the bidden bite his words carry, ".. I might like you a little more, but at least try some more before calling me your mate..," he mutters under his breath, not really loud but not really caring if he was heard either.

He wants there to be at least some effort made to earn anything from him.

Chapter 4: Branding

"I ain't pushing nothing," Gamzee retorts, "'cause you'd be kicking up all a big fuss if I was." Another gem, another added to the pile.

"You wanna be called my mate-to-be?" With the pile of gems overflowing, and a small dent made in the shimmering tulle, Gamzee carefully gathers up with pile, and deposits everything into its own pouch.
The bald spot on the skirt of the dress is small, but very noticeable -- especially when the rest of the dress is still glittering, catching every bit of light.

The highblood, while he's up, shifts into a shirt; high-collared, long-sleeved, but tight. The sides are slashed open, allowing him to move freely -- even if he only returns with the pouch, and settles down behind the mound of tulle and silk.

 

"Brother, gonna take a while for me to make the most proper of tributaries to your fine-ass self. I got ideas in my thinkpan. Secret ideas. Ain't worthy of you 'til you get your say-so on it, but that don't mean I ain't gonna ask to get all close. I'm greedy like that." Gamzee chitters, pleased -- not with himself, but with this .
Karkat's much better company than Kurloz.
He loves the rest of his troupe, but he's known most of them since he was a pupa, or since they were a pupa; Karkat's new.

Karkat's not like any other trolls they've kidnapped before, either. Most lowbloods resort to panicking, struggling, pathetically whimpering; Karkat banters back with him, refuses to let him have his way so easily. He looks around with curiosity, like he might intend to actually give them all a chance.
Another pile of gems starts up.

"Kurloz figured we'd get more use for this if we up and sold all the gems to some Cerulean motherfuckers. They always up for anything treasure-like. Ain't sure on the fabric itself. Maybe make a gift of it? Everyone got someone they wanna impress, and the jewels should go to keeping us all fed and spoiled for perigees -- could walk up into a fuckoff bookhive and get you whatever your pusher desires." The Ceruleans aren't Gamzee's favourite to deal with, but he can mask his discomfort.

"Could also just spring into some Navy's home and take from their personal collection, but most Navy-blooded motherfuckers got some weird taste."

 

*

 

Mate-to-be was...doable. Karkat considers it; it wasn't too binding but more like a promise, like a betrothal but also not. "Alright. I feel that." The pile of gemstones that had been steadily growing starts to spill over, Gamzee picking up it all up by the cloth to be moved to a spare pouch. He looks curiously as Gamzee pulls on a shirt, this one form-fitting compared to the harem pants he has on (was he going somewhere?).

Even more curious that Gamzee would be giving him a tribute as well-- Ampora's idea of a gift was saying that he was 'helping' Karkat fulfill his purpose and that he should be grateful, Gamzee's doesn't sound anything like that, from what Karkat gathers. Though the wonder at his words are dampened when he claims his greed. "Well, at least you're telling me what to expect." Greedy, huh? He'll figure things out as they come.

Aside from that, Karkat's ears twitch up at the mention of selling the gems, a dent made in harvesting it from the dress, "Can I come?? I can deal with Ceruleanbloods, dealt with them before, no one can get one over on me if I'm haggling." He's maybe a little excited to try his hand at doing that in the market, couldn't be that different than a shop, "If you've got anything like a jeweler's eye, then I can probably make an appraisal to start at." As it's been said, Karkat is smarter than the average village bumpkin and he's damn proud of it.

 

*

 

"Bluebloods do like trying to fuck everyone over, even themselves." Gamzee comments, taking a glance at Karkat.

"They all got an awful complex on 'em, though. You show up in Burgundy and they'll think you're the dumbest motherfucker what ever stepped on Alternia. Maybe we flounce you up in something... mid-blood." Olive, Gamzee thinks -- just high enough to be out of the absolute dredges, and not so high on the spectrum that Karkat can't pass.
Although, the troll's soft body and gentle features might give him away, if anyone were to stare too long.

"You can come." He finally gives permission.

"Not like we trade fair ourselves, but it's always nicer to get what we're owed than to hold a Blueblood down and wrench out an eye for trying to fuck us over. I'll be nearby, and... we'll keep another motherfucker on you." Maybe Kurloz, considering the twins will be busy filling their pockets with stolen goodies -- and Chahut isn't exactly inconspicuous.

"Highblooded markets be dangerous dens for all involved, you feel me? Probably get on it tomorrow -- Sun'll be out soon, and I wanna get more of these gems off the dress 'fore we get into any markets." His small pile still growing, Gamzee stops to point to a chest -- spattered in dried Indigo.

"Might be we got a peeper in there for you, mate-to-be. It's where we keep some useful shit what can't really be sold. Don't mind the stain. Owner done expired sweeps ago." The caravan rocks suddenly, and Gamzee clicks , high and sharp, toward the front. He receives a chitter in return.

"Dead-ass motherfucker don't know how to control some pan-rotted Lusii. For shame." He mutters, inspecting the dress for any tears or frays.

"Anyway, should be getting ready to set up camp soon. Where does my mate-to-be wanna slumber? Chahut gets her share on with the twins, Marvus shares himself with Kurloz, and I share with Karako-- though we switch it as we feel. No motherfucker would mind much if you wanted me all to your own self, Karkat."

 

*

 

Burgundy probably wouldn't fly at a highblood market, Karkat would get picked on and harassed for sure, never mind his own off-spectrum color or smelling like himself. Even the few Ceruleans that came to the village to trade with Kanaya's shop had been simple enough to work some extra caegers out of. Stroking big egos did some wondrous things for coin. All that aside, Karkat's lips curve up into something fairly smug at being able to tag along.

"How midblood? I'm probably too warm to pass higher than Jade...," no, Kanaya is definitely much more lukewarm, barely warm at all, "...or Olive." Karkat muses, stumbling up-- deciding fuck it, he's taking off the shoes, shouldn't need them in the caravan and after a rock like that it's obvious he wouldn't be able to keep his balance anyway. Loses a whole three inches of height though --and padding over to the chest. Only making a slight face at the smattered, supposedly old bloodstain before deciding that it doesn't matter and opening the latch.

It's a mess inside but there's a multitude of tool things, picks and whittlers, a seaming kit that's as much a mess as the trunk, obviously missing bits and pieces of it. Craftsman and trade tools, even a smithy's hammer-- "Oh!" Karkat moves some things as a familiar shape catches his eye, pulling out the eyepiece and looking pleased. The piece to hold a stone or gem right up to the viewglass is missing but otherwise the thing is pretty intact, just means Karkat will have to think of how he can hold a bit still.

Some gems had strayed from the new pile, which Karkat picks up to put some back on the square of cloth and holding on to a few to look at, fixing the jeweler's eye to his head. "Hm?" The subject of sleeping arrangements is brought up as he's flattening out another piece of cloth to put the crystal on, Karkat laying flat on his front to hold himself more stable. Fighting down the coloring on his face and rolling his eyes at that, Gamzee insinuating that Karkat wanted to be left alone with him, chirring lightly in his throat, "I...if Karako usually sleeps with you, then that's fine..," yeah, no, not at that stage yet (yet, he says, as if it's going to be a possibility later, hahaha). "Why, are you trying to get me alone?" Karkat says, mocking coy in both look and voice.

 

*

 

"Yep." He answers bluntly -- like it weren't obvious .
This close and he can catch Karkat's sweet scent, and see the way that old shift lies over his back; outlines his hips and thighs.

 

It'd be so easy to push the dress aside and crawl over to Karkat, huddle beside or atop him -- he could even reach out and brush a cheek, catch dark curls on the tips of his fingers.

 

"If another motherfucker don't get the picture, though, they'll have to keep their backs turned while I hold you. Simple shit." Gamzee wouldn't fuck Karkat, not out in the open and not around someone who needs to be able to look him in the eye for the remainder of their lives, but he'll gladly spend the day purring, burrowing into Karkat's warmth.

"I'm allowed, ain't I?" He asks, hands slowing, turning his gaze up to Karkat.

"To covet you, I mean."
"Bluebloods get to covet their gold, and quadrantmates get to covet each other -- so, there a problem with me coveting you?" He shifts onto his hands and knees, closing the distance between them.
The dress whispers, shifted aside -- Gamzee's low baritone skirts the sound, coming out on top.

"This's your warning." He rumbles, before lowering himself to nose at the nape of Karkat's neck. This turns into nuzzling, and he starts purring -- a deep rumble, his ears growing lax.
His senses both soften and sharpen; the rock of the caravan, the snorts of the Lusii leading them, dull as if he's got water clogging his ears. Meanwhile, his skin prickles, electrified -- greedy for the warmth of Karkat's body.

Gamzee shuffles closer, his consistent purr filling the air of the caravan.

 

*

 

Karkat's not sure what kind of answer he was expecting but something so straightforward and matter-of-factly in one word wasn't it, blinking wide eyes up at Gamzee. It's suddenly hard to swallow and he can feel his face getting hotter and hotter with every word out of the other's mouth, Gamzee coming to a slow stop with his handiwork and his gaze meeting with Karkat's. Feels as if the look is so intense that the air can be cut through, even as Gamzee moves to his hands and knees to move closer.

"...n-no, no problem..," he manages to squeak out. Being coveted is nothing new to Karkat, but when Gamzee says it, it feels like he didn't know the meaning until just now, how much he's wanted. Moving the dress aside to close the rest of the distance and give out that warning with a low rumble of his voice while Karkat listens to his pusher hammer away in his ears, blood rushing to make his face hot.

 

Freezing up as chilled skin makes contact with his, face at the nape of his neck and pressing in, nuzzling like Gamzee was scenting him. Karkat breathes slow and deep, basically prone while listening and feeling the thrumming purr Gamzee lets out, the sound traveling down his neck, literally through his spine. Feeling like the heat from his face creeps lower and lower down to the rest of his body, hot and flush under the shift with Gamzee over him.

He can't work like this, can't focus on anything but Gamzee and his purring. The eyepiece may as well be a patch for all that Karkat can't focus through it, starting to become too addled to see what's in front of him; beginning to pick up more on Gamzee's scent too, a hand moving slowly to take off the piece as he breathes in.

 

*

 

Purring like this is a foreign sensation to Gamzee, who chitters and chirps and clicks, but hardly ever gets the chance to rumble to quiet satisfaction.

It's a pleasant sensation -- numbing, primitive -- and his movements reflect that slow, methodical care.
Gradually, with a firm yet gentle hand, the highblood coaxes Karkat onto his side, and then onto his back -- and he still noses at the underside of Karkat's neck, lips skimming the tender flesh.

 

"I'm going to kiss you," he murmurs, rising himself just enough to come face-to-face with the mutant, "just once."

 

Even without make-up, Karkat is breathtakingly beautiful. Gamzee's not kind enough to leave him untouched, dipping down to connect their lips for a second -- or two, or three.

It's chaste yet soft -- his inexperience showing through. Gamzee doesn't know how to claim but in the most carnal of ways, or in the most childish of ways; the middleground is foreign to him. Exciting, but not something he wants to enter into alone.

Questioning his Brothers and Sisters is out of the question, too.
Reluctantly, lingering, the highblood parts from his mate.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" His loud purr has died to a persistent rumble in his chest; contentment and satisfaction, the want to preen and be preened. His gaze searches Karkat's for disgust, disapproval; without his paint, he looks his age, and his expressions are easier to read.

"Would my mate-to-be be so kind as to heed a request?" Gamzee pushes, trying to be delicate though clowns no nothing of delicacy.

"Your nice, warm hands -- could you take my face in them?" Karkat's heat sinks into him and lingers, and he wants those hands on him, branding him.

 

*

 

A stray chirp escapes Karkat's throat, high and tittering, for the cool hand tugging him to turn until he's flat on his back, Gamzee still against his neck and now at the base of his throat, cold lips on sensitive, vulnerable skin. By now his blush had spread over his face and was making it's way further down his body, dipping toward his chest. His face is positively steaming when he's warned again.

It's his first real kiss, kissing friends and clade don't count-- for Kanaya it was always on the cheek or her forehead, even a quick surprise peck to her mouth when they were being silly, a younger time.

 

But it's his first, and none of his books even come close to what's happening now, how there's sensation on his lips and his body wants to float (it's much tamer than he was expecting but breathtaking all the same, though that's probably what he gets for reading smut where kisses are this grand, sloppy, overwhelming thing). Fluttering lashes slipping closed even for moments after they've parted with a barely-there sound.

Karkat's chest rises and falls with his slow, deep breaths, eyes opening languidly to a half-lidded look, just a little fuzzed and lightly shaking his head, not bad at all. The newness is surprisingly evident on Gamzee's face, as if it's his first time kissing someone like this-- or at all --, as if his inexperience in such an area has caught up to him how seeing it gives Karkat the sudden, interjected want to reach up and lock together again until they're both well-acquainted with how to do this.

The request isn't anything difficult, and Karkat's reaching up anyway, slow and careful, delicate hands gently sliding over cold angles. Gamzee isn't as cold as Ampora, but with the fever in his skin Karkat must burn to him, digits mapping out the feel and features of his face.

 

*

 

The highblood's speckled eyes flutter shut, his breath coming in even measures. His brows twitch faintly.

Karkat burns in the most delicious of ways, those fingertips leaving trails of fire behind them; urging Gamzee to turn into every gesture. His features soften, cheeks dusting with blood, as he begins to move with Karkat. Tilt his jaw, follow the touch along his skin.

Gamzee has no reference for this beyond heavy hands atop his head, arms holding him back.
His lids lift, lazy, and he wonders how much experience Karkat has with this -- if he'd know how to handle an enraged Indigoblood.

 

Most trolls handle it by fleeing, or dying in the process.

 

Other Indigobloods will restrain him, tell him to rein in his anger; remind him of their subjugation under The Empress' heel. If he gets too rowdy, there's always been someone bigger and meaner to grab him by the scruff and slam him into place.

Gamzee turns, and leans heavily into Karkat's hand, chittering quietly in appreciation.
With his own hands, he brushes Karkat's hair from his cherubic face; follows the shape of him from his brows to his jaw. His bright eyes, his small nose, his plump lips -- Gamzee can't help but take his time in drawing his thumb over those lips, his own still tingling.

"Don't gotta stay on m'face." He murmurs, cupping the mutant's cheek.
He can't imagine Karkat's gotten close and personal with a highblood before -- all their sharp angles and cold, slow blood -- and an Indigoblood much less so.

Not that he's particularly familiar with lowblood features, their soft vulnerabilities. Not like this, anyway. Gamzee knows where to hit so it hurts, where to bite to kill; he doesn't know exactly where to calm a lowblood, or excite them.

 

*

 

Karkat's not sure what he's doing but the way that Gamzee pushes into his hands like it's such a natural thing has him nearly mesmerized, just watching him. He's never known anything so intimate and close, read about it sure, dreamt about it of course, (a crush without a doubt but that was only a sweep ago) (alright, so there were three, don't judge him) but no actual experience (barely with Kanaya, they're clade so emergency pale was a given, but that's as far as any of that went, so this is new for him).

Cool digits stroke along his own features, pretty lips parting for a thumb to swipe over it, Karkat hyperaware of the touch and how the nerves there respond to it. Whispered words say he can move elsewhere if he wanted, so warm fingertips trace down from his lip, under Gamzee's jaw until they're featherlight-touching down his throat, about as exposed as Karkat is. Relaxing bit by bit laying like that, at least he is above the waist, legs tensing, just a little, pressing his thighs together in a fidget.

He's not sure what prompts him to, but Karkat's not going to be the one left blushing by himself; Gamzee's right above him, faces hardly apart and his hands are already there, Karkat smoothing down to broad shoulders. That's where his hands brace and lift him the rest of that short distance, until his lips are pressed right against the other's throat, feeling the blood move under his skin and the steady thrum of his purring.

 

*

 

There's a moment, as Karkat's lips sear into his neck, where Gamzee hiccups. His purring jolts to a stop in his throat for the barest of moments, shoulders tensing -- then he relaxes. The usual - normal - instinct to wrench away and make sure Karkat never has another chance to get at his throat is absent.
Gamzee takes Karkat into his arms, holding the mutant against him, cradling his head.

His mind is blissfully blank, head empty -- until the caravan comes to a violent stop , rocking the both of them hard. Hard enough to have Gamzee gripping the mutant to him, possessive, hissing loudly over his shoulder in mindless warning.

Kurloz's curious click ing comes back, and his ears twitch; Chahut's outside the caravan. They've stopped for the day.
Slowly unwinding, Gamzee releases Karkat. He's a furious purple, from his neck to the tips of his ears.

 

" Motherfucker , learn to control the goddamn Lusii." He calls over to Kurloz, still partially hunched over Karkat.

The older Indigoblood knows better than to cross Gamzee, leaving the younger to sit up and gather himself; he's sheathed, but the pressure between his thighs is still there. Any longer and his bulge might've started to unsheathe -- and he doesn't want to go through the trouble of washing his own colour from his pants.

 

"We stopping for the day," he starts, sitting up properly, giving the mutant room, "to set up tents, cook, all that laborous shit what keeps us alive." Despite himself, his cheeks are still purple; he wonders if he should smear a coating of white, just to mask that.

"Ain't so sure we got much grubmeat." He babbles, looking everywhere but Karkat -- even if his gaze insists upon skimming the troll, catching the outline of him.

"Have to trade for some tomorrow." His hands come up to rub at his cheeks, and he pointedly refrains from looking at Kurloz as the older troll steps through the caravan, and exits out the back.

Notes:

I think I told you before, that I had a brand name for our chats. I told you, but I never actually told you what the name was, but it's what the series is named. I thought it was fitting, at the time, 13 pages of chat in, for the point we had reached. And then the name kind of stuck whenever we had a new idea we wanted to bring up for a new AU and thread of chat.

I remember this one in particular was our longest running, got to 50 something pages before the site had it's thing that we had to move it all to a new thread. I think without all the ooc in between replies, we might still have some 40 something pages.

To you and everyone else: please be safe.

Chapter 5: Ease

Notes:

In the original prompt, you'd liked one of my clown/breeder troll headcanons, where clowns have high regards for breeders, to the point that they're considered almost holy.

We took it and ran with it in everywhere else we could through this and our other chats. Our ideas bounce and mesh well together, I think, enough to have 8 running chats and still some more ideas to run by. I always enjoy hashing new ideas with you.

Karkat blinks wide eyes at the sudden reaction, feeling the purr stutter to a halt under his lips, heart racing as arms come to cage him against the highblood again, head gently being held in place against Gamzee's throat. the rest of his body too feels like as much of it is being pressed into Gamzee as possible, trying to wrap around Karkat's heat. Within the moment that they're like this Karkat has a budding feeling that everything is falling into place--

At least it was there until the caravan rocks them out of it, Karkat freezing rigid as he's held flush against Gamzee, hissing at his brother driving the caravan. The moment is unfortunately gone, proven so when Gamzee releases him and seems to move pointedly away, even facing away from Karkat-- the why being caught as Karkat gets a good look at Gamzee within seconds, his first time seeing deep lavender staining his face.

Was he...embarrassed? That the moment had been ruined? He's rambling, most people do that when they're embarrassed, Gamzee latching onto what he's doing and talking about setting up camp. Karkat finally makes his body unfreeze so that he could sit up, looking toward Gamzee who mostly has his back to him (saying they'd stop for now did he only mean the caravans, or what they were doing just a few moments ago?).

"O-Okay..," their little moment ruined now has Karkat feeling the embarrassment he should have been earlier, also not quite able to look at Gamzee now. Busying himself with looking for the eyepiece and the few gems he took to look at, finding it hard to speak after that . "...I'll make sure to check these well to use for trading then," Karkat shakes his head at how droll he sounds, "Well...what do you usually do to set up camp? I can help."

 

*

 

"We get to pitching tents, gathering -- food, water, tinder for fire." Gamzee can barely stand this heat, but they need their fire to cook and pray.

"You could..." He glances over his shoulder, sizing Karkat up. He can't imagine the mutant being strong enough to drive poles into the ground, but he seems to want to help.
Gamzee chews on the thought for a few moments, then speaks up -- with a confidence he doesn't have, because he knows everyone heard him hiss.

"This's your area -- sort of -- so you go forage for food. Plants, berries, small Lusii eggs; whatever the fuck you find. The twins got the job on gathering tinder, so they'll be close, but... I'm gonna put my trust in you not to run." Gamzee gets to his feet, knows he doesn't have to tell Karkat just how badly running would end for him.
He exits the caravan into another forested area, though this one is more sparse; folded beams are already being hauled from one caravan, while large swathes of multi-coloured fabric are being taken from another.

 

Chahut passes by them, the twins taking off hand-in-hand into the nearby foliage.

"Got interrupted, Brother...? Awful displeased sound you made." She teases, to which Gamzee ducks beneath her, and grabs his own beam.

This is routine for them to the point they barely have to talk; set up the largest main tent, followed by smaller tents; dig a firepit; gather all the available food. Karako feeds the Lusii, and Marvus helps move along their personal belongings into their various shared tents.

 

Gamzee mutters to him to -- please -- have a tent to himself and Karkat.

 

The twins streak past Karkat, snatching up dried grass and bundles of dead twigs.

"You won't run, will you?" Baizli asks, a strange sadness in his eyes.

"Of course, he won't run!" Barzum reprimands her twin, poking him with a twig.

" Why would he run?! Just to go back to those boring beached seadwellers?" She continues, and Baizli nods.

"They are so very, very boring." He laments, bending to grab a tuft of dead grass.

 

*

 

Well, it is sort of his area, even though Karkat's village is a ways away from here, but still for the most part he knows what might be growing in the area. Karkat snorts, "Yeah, like I could get far." With his short legs and those heels? Yeah, good fucking luck with that. "Don't worry, I won't." And really run to where? All the way back to the city? Even further to his village? Ha, into the woods? Barely much forest anyway, the trees are more spread out and there's less noise to indicate a lot of things live in the area.

Karkat takes a few scraps of cloth with him to gather food, putting them in the satchel along with the jeweler's eye and carefully wrapping up the few pieces of gemstone he'd taken so he could look at them later, those going into their own pocket in the lining. Slinging it over his shoulder and across his chest before coming out of the caravan in time to hear Chahut's passing remark, covering up the barely grunted laugh by clearing his throat, despite the color on his face because of his involvement. Following after the twins before anyone can tease him the same way.

"Of course not, they're boring and they don't even give good gifts," Karkat grins at them, carefully stepping through uneven dirt, eyeing around bushes and the trunk of trees. Some have fruit and he's lucky to find a long sturdy stick to reach up with, poking down the low-hanging ones and hopefully catch them before they fall and bruise. He collects a bunch of stuff, soon making his satchel heavy with berries and nuts, finding some shrooms even-- not eggs, eggs are too high up and he's sure if he tries to poke a nest down and catch it, it'd break in his hands anyway --, not going too far away from the twins that he can't hear or see them.

 

A few times, only a few, Karkat gets a random thought that tells him he could absolutely run away right now. If he books it, even takes off those troublesome heels, he just might get far enough to lose the troupe entirely. He could totally make a run for it right now.....hah, sure. With his luck he'd probably run from Gamzee and back into the grasp of Ampora, or even something worse, if there was something worse, so yeah no, this is fine.

 

A sound snaps far off ahead of him, but still loud enough to put him on alert, the sensation of being watched crawling up his spine, making him uneasy. Karkat stares in the direction it came from, watching for anything to move as he backs away, swallowing a little nervously while trying to be as quiet as he can, heading back toward the twins. Even in his village sometimes a hunting or foraging group would return with someone getting attacked by wild Lusii, and he has the feeling that this is how it starts out. Karkat can't help but glance behind him as he comes up to where Barzum and her brother are, gently ushering them back toward the camp, whispering, "Did you get enough kindling? Let's head back, alright? Try to be quiet..."

 

*

 

Barzum and Baizli are just wrigglers - pupae - barely out of the caverns, but they're also Indigobloods.

Despite their size and youth -- Karkat being larger than either of them -- they don't share in the mutant's fear. Rather, their eyes pick up a mischevious glint, and they barely have to look at one another to begin conferring.
"A new playmate?" Barzum asks.

"Maybe this one won't run away like all the others." Baizli agrees.
Both small trolls reach under their ponchos, mirroring one another as they move.
"We've been looking for a new playmate for so long ." Baizli whispers up to Karkat, throwing knives in hand.

"They all die before we can even have any fun with them." Barzum adds, readying her throwing knives, as well.

They don't mention how their mouths water at the idea of fresh Lusus meat. Grubs are good, versatile, and keep for long periods of time -- but Lusus meat melts in their mouths, and they get to share the sensation twice-over with each other.

 

Everyone else only gets to experience it once.

 

At the same time, they launch their throwing knives, one after the other, into the foliage. Six in total whiz through the air.

If it's a Lusus, then they'll eat very well tonight. If it's a troll - a troll who has, somehow, survived the assault - then the twins will get a new playmate.

They have yet to grasp the differences in troll biology, even if they do understand that Karkat is extremely fragile.
Maybe it's that which has the twins ducking under the mutant's arms, putting themselves in front.

"You go back to camp." Barzum says, fishing for more knives.

"Gamzee would be so angry if anything happened to you!" Baizli adds, grabbing his own knives.

"We don't like him when he's mad." Barzum laments, chewing her lower lip.

 

*

 

....Of course the harmless pupae aren't harmless pupae, they had Karkat hook, line and sinker, he should have gotten the idea from earlier when Gamzee said they play rough with their playmates, he supposes this is what he meant. The smell of beast blood comes from the foliage, which crosses off any doubt that it's some Lusus about to hunt for it's own meal (how strangely the tables turn but Karkat won't complain). Looking with worry at the two of them, because they're still wrigglers, blood and apparent tendencies aside, and Karkat has a hard time leaving them like that.

"If the both of you don't come soon, then I'll be mad," Karkat huffs, turning to hurry back through the rest of the wood. He'll get someone to go their way, still concerned about the twins (despite their eagerness to....'play' with whatever is over there), Gamzee or maybe even Chahut. Running is difficult in his shoes but if Kanaya can do it (Kanaya has longer legs and is infinitely more graceful than Karkat on his best day) then so can he, feeling a wave of relief when the trees become more spaced out and he can see the caravans and the tents just a few more paces ahead.

Another snap is heard, from somewhere to his side this time, but Karkat doesn't stop for it, putting everything into moving his legs and somehow not breaking his ankles. Breaking through the trees to their clearing just out of breath, "Gamzee-- Gamzee!! The twins, they're fighting something!"

 

*

 

All eyes are on Karkat when he bursts out into the open, projecting his voice far louder than needed.
Gamzee clicks in annoyance, getting to his feet.

"I'll go get 'em. Sister Chahut, watch Karkat." He grabs his clubs from the back of the caravan, and heads off into the trees.
There are piles of kindling, discarded on the ground, and he can hear the faint sounds of giggling.

Chahut lumbers over to Karkat, peering into the woods behind him.

"Good work, little one." She murmurs, ushering him closer to camp.

"I see you've brought edibles. Much obliged. Grubmeat's been running low." She takes Karkat into the largest tent.
Inside, the ground has been swept cleanly, and piled with furs; plush fur which cushions bare feet.

 

In the centre, a firepit has been dug out.

It'd be a nice little place to be for the day if the fabric of the tent weren't so obviously smeared in blood - almost every hue, excluding fuschia. A prominent golden splatter near one corner looks particularly new.

 

Kurloz, surprisingly, has the dress with him -- and the fattening pouch of gems -- continuing his work. His fingers are longer than Gamzee's, his rhythm quicker; he takes less time to ensure he doesn't damage the dress. He knows, already, that he won't damage the dress.

The others can be heard outside -- and the twins, alongside Gamzee, return with a bleat of laughter. Olive-green blood splatters the twins, while Gamzee stays outside.

 

It sounds like he's dragging something rather heavy along the ground.

 

"Marvus, come help a brother out!" He calls, and the two grunt, moving off elsewhere.
The twins look extremely pleased with themselves.

"We're gonna get Lusus meat today!" Barzum bursts out, cackling.

"Too bad for the Lusus." Baizli sighs.
They drop their kindling at Chahut's feet, and the eldest Indigoblood moves to the fire pit.

"The little one does want to partake, doesn't he?" She glances over her shoulder, to Karkat.

 

*

 

Already they've gotten one big tent standing and sturdy, a few smaller ones aside it. To Karkat's relief, Gamzee goes to retrieve the twins, feeling better that at least they won't be out there by themselves with someone more capable than he is-- Karkat just isn't built for trying to fight something bigger than he is, and no amount of wishes has changed that so he's just got to deal with it.

Chahut brings him into the tent, Karkat looking in slight awe at the inside, the furs on the ground and the firepit, a little less so at the myriad of colors all over like a canvas but only in a 'I should have expected that' kind of way. His shoes need to be wiped down and are left just outside the tent-- needs to figure something out for different shoes altogether because heels are not ideal in the woods and those have to be sold anyway --whereas Karkat steps carefully through the furs in lace stockings, noticing just about every color was present on the tent aside from Tyrian, though even Jade is sparsely seen.

 

The first thing he thinks should be done is empty out his satchel, carefully bring out the food wrapped in cloths. "Anywhere all of this should go?" Karkat asks to Chahut, doing as she says. Looking through his bag afterward for the eyepiece and the gems, Karkat straps the thing again to his head, the looking piece on his brow and deciding to sit near Kurloz, not familiarly close but close enough to the pouch of gems, getting settled and laying on his front again. Pulling the piece over his eye and laying the gems he'd held on to on the piece of cloth, studiously examining them (he'd learned a little about looking at gems and jewels like these when that jewelry maker and his moirail came to his village to see Kanaya's shop. He was Navy and probably the highest blood aside from Ampora's soldiers to visit, and was much more pleasant to boot. Was a shy, gentle giant who'd been sweet on Karkat according to his moirail, an energetic and sharp Olive girl. Karkat couldn't reciprocate, as much as he liked him-- rather, liked looking at him, as he was quickly deemed Eyecandy by the other young people in the village).

 

Karkat hums in interest, "They're not that big but some of these aren't just cut crystal, these bigger ones look like adamantine and zirconia...," he says, talking to himself more than anything. If he could pick out some pieces that were all zircon and use that to show off a whole pouch, they could make a killing and then some. clean out the pockets of whatever poor sap came to buy.

Giggles can be heard from outside, Karkat feeling another hit of relief when the twins return, although covered in Olive gore. Hearing further Gamzee calling Marvus and the sound of something heavy outside. Barzum and Baizli look nothing less than delighted that they'd be eating meat today, Karkat making a small smile to himself; his village would hunt some large beast or two depending on what, strip it of everything and dig out a firepit for an underground oven. They especially did that for festivals and holidays if it was doable. Chahut asks him and Karkat looks up from his examining, "Partake...in what?" Partake in eating-slash-preparing the meat from the Lusus? Or something else?

 

*

 

Chahut laughs quietly to herself.

"Eating, little one. Not all trolls have the stomach for Lusus meat." Specifically, those with a Lusus to raise them -- and none of these trolls have such an issue.

 

It's a poor trick on their part; their assigned Lusii are always partially aquatic, usually unable to deal with their charge never following them into the ocean.

Chahut knows her Lusus is dead, and most other trolls assume the same. The twins make vague allusions toward their Lusus.

Karako was never assigned a Lusus, instead deferring to Bronya whenever they passed through their cloister.

 

"Figures a Violetblood would be cheap." Kurloz murmurs, continuing to pluck free gem after gem.

"Identify and separate the piles. If there are enough of each, we can sell them separately; lowbloods won't be so picky about whether or not the shiny gem being offered is of the highest quality. If we don't have enough gems of a certain type to make a reasonable sale, mix them; it's no bother to rob a Blueblood blind, anyway." Kurloz rattles off instructions, his voice a slow drip of honey.

Across the firepit, inspecting and cleaning what Karkat has brought back, Chahut raises her gaze to Kurloz.

"Brother Gamzee might flip his lil' lid if he heard you talk so much to his mate." It isn't quite a threat, but a solid warning.
A warning which Kurloz shrugs off.

"I will die if Gamzee asks it of me." Kurloz doesn't even take his eyes off his work.

"Too useful to die, ain't you?" Chahut replies.

The twins plop down beside Karkat, only mildly wary of Kurloz. While the beast is being butchered outside, they take turns telling the troll about all the details; where their knives had sunk into the beast, how they chased it down, how it lasted far longer than they expected, but not long enough to have any fun.

 

*

 

Karkat sucks his cheeks in before nodding, "As long as it's not something crustaceous I can eat it." Well, not exactly, since he'd seen his own Lusus eating smaller kin, shell and all, so really as long as it wasn't his own Lusus Karkat could probably eat it. Makes him think about his Lusus, though. He wonders if Kanaya went back home and if she did had she checked on him; the old crab was still sharp, but he was still old and close to his time.

He'd starting sorting out the gems already, heeding Kurloz's instruction without much problem over it. He was already close enough to be separating the pouch of gems so no problem there. Though something does have Karkat wary, eyeing Kurloz after what Chahut throws out at him, having some slight suspicions but they're quashed down.

The twins are so happy to tell Karkat every detail of their hunting, how and where they stabbed into the beast, Karkat diligently listening as he sorts out gems. How after all of that they didn't have enough fun with it before it'd died.

 

*

 

By the time Gamzee and Marvus have the Lusus butchered, Chahut's fanning the flames of a modest fire.
None of the Indigobloods seem keen on getting too close to the fire, the ambient heat more than enough for them -- though Gamzee, Marvus, and Chahut do take turns cooking skewers of meat.

The excess has been hung to dry outside, hopefully dehydrating under the Sun.

Karkat is served first, shuffled away from Kurloz by Gamzee -- and there doesn't seem to be any hierarchy after that. The twins grab their share, and Karako takes his; even Marvus and Chahut are eating by the time Kurloz is skewering his own meat, roasting it over the open flame.

 

Gamzee sits beside the mutant, the heat sapping him of his appetite.

"Been making yourself useful with them gems?" He asks, under the chatter of the others; of Chahut chiding the twins and Marvus chatting with Karako.

Kurloz is apart from the others, eating quickly, licking his fingers clean before returning to work -- and, if he feels anything negative about it, he doesn't show it.

 

"Why you wanna be such a help?" Gamzee asks, swallowing a mouthful of meat.

"Not like I ain't grateful, but I'd thought you'd be more in trying to run off, get found and killed by some random beast. Instead, you're all helping us get fed and clothed."

 

*

 

Gamzee and Marvus return from outside with a haul of meat, skewered to be roasted over the fire Chahut's made. The smell of it fills the tent, which smells pretty good for only being seasoned by it's own fat; wonders if they'll save the drippings, Karkat's village does, once it solidifies to lard it could be used for a bunch of things.

Karkat is a bit surprised that he's given food first, taking it gratefully if not a bit confused (at some point he has to ask where exactly is he standing in the pecking order if not at 'captive'). He does have to keep from laughing at all when Gamzee purposely, pointedly, pulls him away from Kurloz, covering it up with a bite into his skewer as Gamzee tugs the piece of fur he's sitting on decently away before setting himself next to Karkat.

"Mhnm," Karkat says through a mouthful, the taste more gamey than what he's used to but good in it's own way. "There's adamantine in there, if not at least to a blueblood for finery then to an engineer for craft." Crystal and other stones were always useful to them, so even if no money-dropping blueblood wants any of it the gems are still sellable.

 

"Why?" Karkat glances up at him, "Were you hoping I did so you could come after me? I could've, you know," he replies, shrugging his shoulders up and turning to face Gamzee more fully. "Taking that dress apart is more of a 'fuck you' to Ampora for me, all the better if it can be put to some good beside looking horribly gaudy. Me staying here is me being smart. I'm not exactly built to defend myself, much as I would have liked otherwise."

He's got enough in him to lift a farming sickle, swing it a few times, but actually learning to use a weapon-- like he'd tried when he was much younger --made his body tired, which was definitely an inconvenience and a bummer. "I figure while I'm here and not bound up, might as well make the most of it. But alright, I'll up the running away bit for you if you want."

 

*

 

"Was the little one keen on runnin' away in your caravan?" Chahut's deep voice drips over the furred floor, and Gamzee immediately flushes.

"No -- we didn't do nothing!" He responds, and Chahut's smile only grows larger.

"You'll have to 'do something' sooner or later, little brother of mine. Your want's no secret. Neither's his want." Chahut returns to her meal, while Gamzee now presses himself to Karkat's side, aiming for indifference.
It doesn't come off as indifference.

 

He's flushed from his ears to his neck, even though he knows he shouldn't care. Karkat is his and if he saw fit to mount Karkat right now, then that's his prerogative -- but some things, like shame, can't be unlearned.

"Don't get any ideas up in your thinkmeats, Karkat." Gamzee murmurs, subdued.

"We're sharing a tent, and you ain't going nowhere." He picks at his food, shoulders relaxing when the conversation moves on to their next destination; the cloister they always visit.

It lies near a city, and Karako's more than welcome in the caverns.
As much as the Jades try to extend that same welcome to the rest of the trolls, Gamzee knows they're all a bit intimidating -- Chahut especially, who makes a point of harassing a specific Jade each time they visit.

The eldest among them, she's good at hiding her feelings. Gamzee can't tell if Chahut wants that Jade, or if she's merely joking; he's not even entirely sure if Chahut really wants her little Navy buddy to be anything more than that.

 

"Why wouldn't Ampora use all the same type of stones? The best kind?" He asks, heart calming in his chest, cheeks lightening.

"I mean, you deserving of it. Can't that motherfucker afford it? Or did he wanna disrespect you with some cheaper shit, thinking your ass wouldn't notice?" He genuinely has no idea, trying to keep their conversation semi-private with a low voice.

 

*

 

Like Gamzee, Karkat flushes; unlike Gamzee, Karkat flushes because he's holding his breath trying not to choke-laugh, facing away from the other while Chahut teases him, recovering by taking a bite from his skewer. Of course, if any of that teasing gets aimed at Karkat he'll be as red as Gamzee is purple, but for now he's enjoying someone else getting picked on.

'Didn't do nothing', ha. Someone had the intention to do something and Karkat just might have let it happen too if not for that all too conveniently inconvenient lurch in the caravan. "We'll see," Karkat says simply even though he has no plans to try anything so drastic. Holding back from saying 'don't get any ideas up in your crotchmeats' takes up much effort but Karkat thinks Gamzee's already purple enough.

 

When the topic moves on, Karkat wonders if they're talking about the same cloister that Karako's Jade is at-- speaking of, he still needs to find a moment to talk with him about his Jade. Supposedly, anyway, if he could separate himself from Gamzee who's almost insisting on being glued right up against Karkat's side.

"Hm?" Karkat thinks over Gamzee's question, keeping the hushed tone, "I'd say the latter. When his soldiers came to get me was the first I've ever heard of him. It was going to be a marriage of convenience, the tradeoff was that I would supposedly be elevated in rank, while he gets his bloodline carried." Ampora didn't know a thing about him, though the one thing he did learn was that Karkat has a surprisingly hard fist.

He huffs, "I mean, would you have thought I knew how to look at stones if I didn't tell you? That fucker didn't even know I can read."

 

*

 

Gamzee's brows raised, and he looks less than impressed.

"Motherfucker didn't even come get you his own self?" He tears off another chunk of meat, marveling the last time they were all this relaxed.
The travel down was stressful; new routes, humid air, and a general need to hurry .

Now, on their way back, they can take their time. Most pressingly, they can meander through cities and markets, and slink through various Kingdoms, trading off their useless valuables for more important items.

 

"What got wrong in his thinkpan?" Gamzee murmurs, finishing his skewer.
The daily prayers are something of a mess; Chahut, Marvus, and Kurloz take turns preaching. They toss some fine dust into the fire, throwing a sweet scent into the air, turning the fire a myriad of colours; it's intense and the preaching doesn't make much sense, but all clowns honk and holler until the fire dies down.

By the time they're all exiting to their shared tents, dawn has begun to creep into the sky.

Gamzee chitters, coaxing Karkat into his tent.
The ground is furred once more, a pile waiting for them; his scant belongings lay around the ground. Horns, juggling clubs; a bow and a quiver of arrows, a change of clothing and some tins of facepaint.

The highblood ushers Karkat down onto the furs, and gets beside him.
He chirps once, high and clear, to get the mutant's attention.

"I got -- ain't really a proper gift, but I got -- " Gamzee can't seems to find the right words, instead tentatively laying a hand to Karkat's thigh.

"Open your legs for me." He leans in, lips brushing Karkat's ear.

"I got something what I wanna bestow upon you, my mate-to-be."

Notes:

This was the start of our first NSFW scene, first of many. Since we'd decided on trying to make things seem realistic, like as far as common sense and naturality went, I went with that. In the sense that sensibly if one was kidnapped it hardly makes sense to spread one's legs for the possible dastardliness that may occur from that point on. I feel we had a good laugh about it, especially with Karkat being the tsundere shojo lead he is.

To you, my friend and everyone else: Please be well and safe.

Chapter 6: This Time

Summary:

NSFW Warning

Notes:

At first, when going over preferences, we decided on Karkat not having a bulge in this one. Though, in others, we found there was plenty to do with Karkat having a bulge and we retconned a future idea that this Karkat would pupate and his bod would morph him a bulge, because alien science and we can.

Though, I think all our hcs blended pretty well regardless.

"Not only did the motherfucker not collect me his damn self, but expected me to be grateful for his attention," Karkat wouldn't have believed he was relaxing enough to trash-talk-- though he could trash-talk Ampora any time, any day to anyone --like he's trading gossip with familiar faces in his village. A couple of his neighbors were experts at gossip-mongering, didn't mind his coloring (actually, now that he thinks about it, neither did most of the village, only newcomers and visitors brought it to his attention now and again) and went on with him about who was seeing who in what quadrant and all the drama that came with it. "What's wrong with him is that he's full of it and himself, both are un-incredibly shitty."

 

It's the familiarity of doing such a thing that puts him at ease, at least a little.

 

The ease quickly fades with the first round of prayers, rather, the first round of what to Karkat sounds like barely cohesive words strung together about nothing and everything. 'Blessed' dust is thrown into the fire, making it burst into colors while everyone sans Karkat honks, hollers, and whoops, Karkat looking to a spot on the furred floor blinking every few seconds with a frozen ' what has my life come to, what is this, oh my god(s) ' half-smile.

Thinking to himself that he shouldn't disrupt the service and preaching since he doesn't know a damn thing and just keep his mouth shut, things coming to a head when the fire begins to die out.

Dawn is even starting to bleed the dark sky to day, everyone soon getting to their respective tents, Karkat missing his chance again to speak to Karako as Gamzee gets him into his tent. Like the big one, fur is spread out on the floor along with a pile and Gamzee's things, because anything of Karkat's he has on his person already, though lifting the satchel over his head to put against the side before settling.

Giving Gamzee his attention from his chirp and raising a brow as he speaks and stumbles over his words, both going up at the hand on his thigh. Just about loses it (in his head at least) as he's told to ' open your legs ' with lips just touching by his ear. "Open my-- what ?" He deadpans, getting a hand between them to push, though only succeeds in pushing himself back instead of Gamzee, practically steaming red in the face and then some.

Did..did he even get the implications-- no, Gamzee must have, since it felt a little like he was trying to pick up from where he'd been interrupted in the caravan, Karkat fixing him with a flustered scowl, "I-- You --!!" Karkat who has so many words to use suddenly can't find any, being blindsided throwing his brain blanks until he stammers through a ramble, "If-If I wasn't easy for Ampora, did you think I'd be easy for you!?"
Just outside something snaps, another convenient inconvenience-- though for who was up for debate --, something that could be light footsteps or small scampering paws getting further away.

 

*

 

"I know you ain't easy for no one," Gamzee retorts, "which's why I ain't aiming to take nothing from you. I ain't paid my pound of flesh to you." He's surprised -- and pleased -- that Karkat didn't try to knock him in the jaw.

He knows the troll is feisty enough for such a thing.

 

The grey-purple hue of his tongue slips between the seam of his lips, and he closes the distance between them.

"Let a brother give his mate-to-be something to relax." He pecks the troll on the cheek, his own heart throbbing.

"We'll keep my bulge outta you, and keep you all virginal." Now, onto Karkat's jaw, where that sweet scent hits him again.
He pulls away, just enough to look at Karkat.

"I'm offering to eat a brother out." Something he's sure would never occur to Ampora in his wildest fantasies; Karkat's meant to take, and whether or not he receives pleasure is entirely up to the highblood's decision.
But, Gamzee doesn't have anything to give Karkat -- nothing besides himself -- and he knows Karkat isn't going to fall onto his bulge anytime soon.

 

Gamzee doesn't know if he's entirely ready for that, either.

 

The highblood pats Karkat's thighs once more.

"Ain't got a bulge to suck, but you got a nook. I got a tongue. We can make it work, can't we, mate-to-be?" His brows quirk, a questioning chitter leaving his throat.

"I wanna do something for you since you been so good on this most stressful of nights."

 

*

 

If he was blindsided before, he's dumbfounded now. Karkat's mouth open and closes rather dumbly, quite sure there's actual steam coming off his face, gawking after cool lips and then tongue touch a kiss to his cheek, then to the soft line of his jaw, heart steadily picking up pace. Of course what Gamzee's offering is not lost on Karkat-- he knows too well, for someone who's never done anything of the sort nor had it done to himself, mind jumping back to the books he had in his collection that were nothing substantial but written purely for the sake of randy raunch.

 

Karkat's willing to bet if he was still with Ampora the git wouldn't have even thought about putting his mouth near his junk, he'd have pried Karkat's legs open already to cram his bulge inside of hot nook. But here was Gamzee, being at least a few leagues of decent by not doing that alone. His heart is making it's own racket, loud in his ears and distracting him from thinking of how and what to say.

"I....," what does someone even say here? He's trying to reference back to his books but Karkat can't even think of anything else beside the image of..of..(of cold lips mouthing over red-flushed skin), "...I haven't.....done anything like..like that..," Karkat stumbles out. He being given another choice here, and it's just a matter of does he or doesn't he?

Does he want to make it work?

Dropping his eyes to his lap where Gamzee's hands are on his thighs, since he's can't quite look him in the face anymore, Karkat gulps, the sound louder than necessary, letting thoughts run themselves through his head. Ultimately, he turns his head away to look somewhere else in the tent, making a tentative chirr in his throat as his legs relax, slowly setting them out to move apart, hands in the shift to inch it up.

 

*

 

"Just 'cause I brought it up don't mean I done it." Gamzee retorts, fingers curling, inching up the hem of Karkat's shift.

"Most I got's... half-clade with Marvus, half-clade with Chahut. Ain't much options for quadrants out here, and most Indigos ain't willing to make shit all awkward by fucking their best brothers, you feel me?" He feels Karkat, fingers dipping between the mutant's thighs.

Gamzee's own pusher is in his head, the tips of his ears a deep purple; the same colour dusts his cheeks, and he mouths at Karkat's neck.
The backs of his knuckles skim Karkat's expensive panties, bypassing the troll's sex to lift the shift higher, exposing more soft flesh -- and he takes Karkat, turns Karkat to face him.

"Ain't you just a gift?" He coos, chirrs high in his throat.
Under him, Karkat is all softness. It's foreign when he's so accustomed to the harder, sturdier bodies of his Brothers and Sisters. Even the twins, in their nubile youth, have an edge to them; a reassurance that they can handle themselves.

 

Karkat, on the other hand, is fragile. Soft. Gamzee runs his touch from round cheeks, down the troll's chest, to settle low on the stomach; his fingers spread over the troll's hips. Everywhere, he's soft, and warm, and utterly inviting.

"Y'know," he urges the troll to lie back, "even though we ain't explicitly pale, you'd make a good palemate, soft as you is. Perfect piling material." The highblood dips his head, and kisses down the centre of Karkat's body; from pusher to the silky, slinky fabric of his panties.
That sugary-sweet smell is almost suffocating there, and Gamzee gingerly places a kiss to the cleft between Karkat's thighs.

"I'm guessing all this finery ain't yours, neither?" He looks up, purple-faced, a half-nervous little smile playing at his features.

 

*

 

Karkat had thought they were all clade and crew, to be traveling together (the strange foreign traders from the other continent had called it something else but Karkat doesn't remember their word for it). It sounds like they were the same as Karkat, not quite quadranted, like him and Kanaya-- close but not so close, yet clade all the same --, but there when they're needed for each other. He gets the point, that Gamzee hasn't done anything like this before either, couldn't on account of having to look at his troupe the next day; means it's a first for both of them.

Still, Karkat gives a start at cool fingers, slowly helping the shift ride up his legs, his thighs, his skin running hotter wherever mouth or hands touch, almost shivering at the contact skimming between plush flesh, the inner sides soft and heated even more if it were possible. Karkat can feel Gamzee brush over the luxury fabric just at his mound before changing direction to have the front of his shift pushed up higher, exposing him from soft chest (sans the slip of covering in the same luxurious fabric) and belly downward. Any ideas Karkat has of not looking at Gamzee are immediately dashed in the little bit of time it takes for the highblood to turn him with ease, facing him.

All to have him be flustered with those words out of the other's mouth, beginning to feel like a gift too, the way it felt like he was being unwrapped. Freezing a little from hands cupping his cheeks, his heat seeping into chilled palms until they make their way down lower, gliding over his throat to his Karkat's budding chest-- wondering if it's just his own imagination that Gamzee lingers a little long --, until they stop along the curve of Karkat's hips. Just so gently, Gamzee coaxes Karkat to lay back, freeing his legs and the back of his shift able to be moved out of the way, nothing keeping him hidden from Gamzee's eyes save the silky underthings he's still got on.

Though calling him pile material does get him to snort, most of the tension in his body let out with it, "Of course I am, I'm a great anything if I want to be," he says before a startled chirp leaves his throat at the press of cool lips down the middle of his chest, heartbeat picking up again as Gamzee nears once more to his lower half, lips at his pelvis and stopping at the hem of silk. Making another, though quieter chirp again as his mound is kissed through the fabric, "N-No, it's.....well, they're mine now, I'm not gonna..gonna walk around without underwear." Karkat huffs. But as Gamzee's head rises Karkat gets a good view of his expression, how deeply purple he is and the reminder that this is a first for both of them.

It's not a big fact but it's a little comforting all the same.

 

*

 

Gamzee shifts down, noses along the softness of Karkat's inner thigh; he coaxes a thigh up, gaze flickering to the mutant.

"Why not?" He asks, hushed, as if anyone would be able to hear him.

"I ain't got none on." Although, he has pants; better clothing than an old burgundy shift.
He also doesn't reek like Karkat.

He plucks at the fabric holding up his mate's stockings, running his finger between silk and skin.

"Underthings ain't such a high priority for us, if you feel me." He presses his lips to the searing heat of Karkat, parts -- and he tastes acrid sweat, salt, with an underlying, cloying sweetness.

 

"Fine-ass fabrics don't taste so good," he murmurs, a hand running the length of Karkat's thigh, "but you do." Another soft kiss, and he slips the fingers of his free hand under the material.
He could -- and does want -- to rip the material off Karkat, flip him, fuck him into the furs -- but his hand is still soothing over Karkat's thigh like they're pale, and he lifts himself up to plant a kiss to the lower plane of Karkat's stomach.

Pale and red and pitch and ashen; Gamzee trills, the warmth between his own thighs pleasant.

"Can a brother move aside all this pretty silk? Promise to put it back proper when we done."

 

*

 

He can't even manage for a look to measure up to his incredulity hearing the fact (at something that is ingrained common sense for Karkat), too preoccupied with Gamzee's face being so close to somewhere so intimate-- Karkat has to subdue the gut instinct to snap his legs closed to a twitch, breathing having the slightest hitches as Gamzee drags lips and fingers over his skin.

"If-- If you wanna fight off every other troll or thing that wants to get their head between my legs, you're more than welcome to, " well, he doesn't totally mean it but that should make enough of a point (and it's not like, well, like that, like his sugar scent was that strong...maybe..), "...It's a high priority for me. I'm keeping the underthings," Karkat says with finality, though that doesn't keep the fact of digits dipping under the silk from being a thing.

 

Nor how Gamzee's putting his face right at the crux of things, Karkat feeling him through the fabric and going rigid from what feels like his tongue. Gone so red in the face at 'tasting good' it's possible the tent might be steaming, Karkat just about trembling the way Gamzee has him spread, one thigh up and feeling like the highblood was caging him in again as lips press back at his mound through the material.

 

They've got to come off at some point, Karkat knows that, whether they're moved aside or pulled off completely but right now the panties are only in the way-- he did agree to get eaten out, after all.

Gamzee kisses at his stomach, looking up to him while Karkat shakily allows for them to go farther than they were. "I..suppose you'd have to, move it to, you know..," there's butterflies or something in his stomach making it feel all fluttery at the thought of Gamzee being front and center to see him uncovered-- never mind the eventuality of having to be wholly naked, this was already making his mind run rampant and his heart race.

 

*

 

"'Less The Empress herself comes looking for you, I wouldn't mind spilling some heathen blood." Gamzee presses his lips once more into Karkat's stomach, feeling the troll shiver and shudder underneath him.
His long, nimble fingers brush past Karkat's nook as he slips his lacy panties aside -- and Gamzee chirps a moment later.

 

The feeling of his bulge unsheathing makes him shiver, and it's like a response to Karkat's scent.
No wonder Ampora wanted this troll so badly.
Not bad enough to shoot him, though.

Gamzee sits up, purple to the tips of his ears, lidded gaze landing between Karkat's plush thighs.

"Huh," he murmurs, thumb pressing into the soft mound, above that red slit. Where he should be able to feel something more.

"Really ain't got no bulge." His own lazily curls against his thigh, confined in his (thankfully) loose pants.
His lips are back on Karkat, now on the troll's sex; he kisses and nips at the junction of Karkat's thighs, nudging them open. When his lips find the other's nook, he snakes his tongue out to taste Karkat.

 

Without the silk, he's sweet -- sweeter than the drink they mix and consume during prayer.

The stress lines in his back smooth out as he grows more comfortable, a low rumble starting in his chest. The highblood gropes blindly, hands landing on Karkat's hips -- as if the mutant could go anywhere.

Arousal and instinct take over as he kisses and laves Karkat's mound, the very inner edges of him; kissing his stomach and nosing along his thigh.
Anything outside of the tent, outside of the warm, fragrant body under his own, is entirely forgotten to him.

 

*

 

Well, that's definitely some kind of reassurance. Anything Karkat has to say about it any further ends up turning into a chirrup from a kiss to the pudge of his stomach, tensing anew as the silk is moved and chilled digits just graze heated, flush skin. He'd been avoiding looking at Gamzee but he can feel his eyes and the way he's quiet is a little worrying (he's seen himself in a mirror of course, what healthy, young curious troll doesn't want to look at themselves?

Kanaya had said there's nothing wrong with him, if anything his junk looks too good (of course he does, his body is meant to, especially right down to that fat mound of flesh with pretty plump nooklips, glistening with slurry just within the slit). But at a spark of nervousness, Karkat is propping back up just enough to look in time for that 'huh' at his lack of bulge, purple gaze studious while Karkat flusters, "Y-Yeah, of course there isn-- ah!?"

Promptly distracted by lips on his thighs, kisses being put to the inner side and moving up, head fitting between plush skin and getting Karkat to widen his thighs apart until this time Gamzee's mouth makes full contact with hot nook. Karkat sucks in his lower lip on a short warble, new to the sensation and making more soft noise once he cool tongue joins in. From there talking seems to be pointless, considering Karkat can't think straight as Gamzee mouths over tender, sensitive flesh, tongue just barely lapping along his slit, only slightly dipping in every now and then, as if Karkat tasted that good, as good as Gamzee claimed from before.

 

Hands grip and tighten at his hips, keeping Karkat in place as if he had the mind to get free and make a run for it right out of the tent (as if he was able to focus on anything else but Gamzee's mouth at all), locked down for the highblood to work over. Lavishing Karkat's body with attention enough to where he's frazzled, breath hitching and making soft whines whenever Gamzee moves somewhere particularly sensitive.

 

*

 

Gamzee's ears twitch at every breathy whine leaving Karkat.
He tilts his head and, growing braver, laps the beads of bright red which drip from Karkat's nook.

" Mate-to-be ," his hands slips under the troll, fingers sinking into his ass, "look at me while I worship you." His pupils are blown wide, and his voice scrapes out through his throat.
The highblood tilts Karkat's pelvis, finally delving his tongue between those soft, plush lips.

He's never had time to explore his own anatomy, much less that of other trolls, but Gamzee knows his own nook is nothing special. Not like this . On the odd night, one of the older trolls has smelled of slurry -- the scent mingling with sweat and blood.

Karkat is all sugary, everything enticing; he runs the flat of his long tongue along Karkat's centre. The muscle comes back a hot red, and he swallows; returns for more.

Curiously, where there should be a sheathed bulge, Gamzee flicks his tongue. He peppers the area in cautious affection, before finding more of Karkat's sweet spots -- the mutant's whines guide him.
When he pulls away, just barely, his tongue is stained red. The muscle flicks over his lips, and he sets a greedy, ravenous look on Karkat.

"You been penetrated?" A finger traces Karkat's outer lips, gently testing the boundaries.

"My digits'll get deeper than my tongue, Karkat." He breathes the mutant's name like a prayer, his own bulge squirming; nook dripping.

 

*

 

The rough sound of Gamzee's voice and the fixation to his gaze strikes at something in Karkat that he can't even force his eyes away, trembling as his hips are tilted up and watching Gamzee, feeling cold tongue slither right into the heat of his slit and gasping when it does. It's not just the stark temperature difference but how the chilled muscle dives and strokes along the inner walls, touches against the nerves lining his nook in a way that makes Karkat jolt and tense. Clamping a hand down over his mouth to cut off a fluttery groan as he squirms in Gamzee's hold, the other hand bracing next to him as one of his legs flinches, now hooked over the highblood's broad shoulder.

 

There may not be a bulge on him, but where it would have been and the vestigial structure for one is highly sensitive on Karkat. Proven as Gamzee presses his tongue to the area just to have Karkat yelp under his hand along with a few tittering chirps as the sensation makes him arch, something sparking through his body and feeling the area pulse with his heart. He's believing less and less that Gamzee's never done this before but something else is confirmed-- his books barely even come close.

Breath shaky as he tries to collect some wits back into his head, still watching as Gamzee draws away, tongue red on purple with Karkat's slime, leaking just another rivulet more at the sight it makes that he swallows. Karkat is flushed all the way down, color bloomed right down his chest and still creeping toward his nook, hand still over his mouth but eyes on Gamzee. He'd stopped with his mouth but was now dragging fingers over plump flesh, a glint to his gaze as he does. "..pen...no, I've never....," certainly not, with the risk of offspring? Definitely not.

Karkat isn't sure what to answer. Does he want Gamzee to reach deeper?...would it be bad if Karkat honestly thought about it and the thought doesn't seem so bad? "..You can..can use your fingers, if you're gonna...," comes a breathy reply.

 

*

 

Gamzee almost wants to tell Karkat to keep his mouth uncovered, let his voice out -- but he doesn't want to attract the daytime wildlife and, more importantly, any stray comments from his Brothers and Sisters.

Surely, they all know something is going on, but that doesn't mean they need to hear it.

 

"Wasn't even thinking to use my bulge, though," the highblood leans up, slithering along Karkat's body, "if you asked in that cute way you're doing now, I'd give it to you." His wild hair frames his sharp features, curls tickling Karkat's skin as he kisses the mutant; their hips are flush, and a growl works its way up from his chest at the sensation.

The sensation of Karkat's nook bleeding onto him, even though the fabric of his pants.

 

His own bulge, long and tapered, pulsates. He knows he'll have to wash these stains out of the fabric in the glow of night, but he could care less about that, right now.
"Don't worry on messing yourself," he drags his hands down Karkat's body, cups his ass, and resumes his previous position between the mutant's thighs, "your colour'll be a welcome addition." Slowly, teasingly, a finger circles Karkat's sex.

"Not how we obtained the other colours, but I prefer this way with you." He teases, parting Karkat's tender lips to stroke at his red insides; his ring finger is worked carefully into the mutant, already soaked in a diluted red.
At the same time, Gamzee places his lips to Karkat's mound - where his bulge ought to be - and sucks at the bundle of nerves.

Karkat is so, so tight around his finger -- but ample and welcoming, too. Slick, hot, soft. He sinks his digit in to the final knuckle, pressing along the troll's inner walls, before starting up a slow, shallow rhythm.

It's too easy to imagine his bulge in place of his finger.

 

*

 

The air seems to catch, Gamzee crawling over him, body to body and not even a sliver of space in between (not even between his thighs, Gamzee pressed flush against to where Karkat's sure he's leaking sugar slick on his pants somehow). It sounds like he's making a come-on if Karkat didn't know any better, unsure if he could get any more flustered than now. Certainly doesn't help with that kiss, wild curls reaching Karkat first as Gamzee lowers down, not as chaste as earlier in the caravan (definitely just a little more hunger to his lips than earlier. By the time Gamzee comes away Karkat is slightly panting hot puffs of breath against the highblood. "Nn...nice try, but I think that's some-something we'll have to work..work up to," Karkat stutters, just shy of being dazed as his scorched gaze holds onto Gamzee's.

At least that's one more thing not to worry about, he won't have to bleed if Gamzee wants his color-- no, he'll just be embarrassed as all get out that the highblood, his mate-to-be, thinks it'd be great to smear his slurry on the tent colors. "Wouldn't that be--!" Gamzee was already moving back to his thighs, stroking Karkat down his body until the curve of his hips, squeezing a handful of rear for Karkat to yip from before cool digits are making their way to him as well, a purposeful rhythm made to tease at his nook, dipping between his folds to come away coated in his red, "...be seen as disrespectful..?" he gets to finish his words but now they seem anti-climatic.

Karkat's answer is mouth to his nook again, only this time is to find where the nerves concentrate in lack of bulge and suckle the flesh into his mouth, Karkat jolting with a squeak. Fumbling his own hands to cover his mouth as his body quivers, the sensation not quite done with him so long as Gamzee kept his handiwork up, fuzzing up his head. Clamping around the finger as if there was something it had to give, sensitive nookwall spasming as Gamzee works into his hole.

 

*

 

"You interested in our lil' commune?" Gamzee pants, breath hot over Karkat's dripping sex.
He'd expect, with the way Karkat squeezes around him, that a second finger would be easy to introduce, but the mutant is tight .

"Might have to introduce you to the good gospel, my mate-to-be, after you spill your slurry in my nutrient gash." He withdraws his finger, only to replace the digit with his tongue.
The muscle writhes inside the troll, slowly fucking into him; droplets of pale red drip down Gamzee's chin, where he doesn't stop to swallow.
With his hands free, he digs his fingers into the meat of Karkat's thighs, and caresses him; encourages the mutant to wrap around him.

 

He can't stop purring, holding onto this troll; he thinks he'd kill anyone, regardless of who, if they were interrupted. His blown eyes say as much, lidded and heavy, the occasional shiver taking him by surprise.

His own bulge twists for attention, trying to knot up on itself. Gamzee shuts his thighs, keeps his bulge from seeking out his own nook -- even if he's dripping, throbbing, his sex clenching deliciously every time he swallows. Every time he takes a moment to plunge back into Karkat, deeper; it gets to a point where he's too heady, coming up purple-faced and red-lipped.

 

This troll doesn't look like someone capable of ruining a royal wedding.

 

Karkat's fluids drip off his chin and colour his lips; Karkat is his sole point of focus.

"You got me bad," he pants, shifting to put the smallest amount of distance between them, "real motherfucking bad, Karkat."
Hooking a thumb into the waist of his pants, the highblood tugs down the garment just enough to reveal his bulge; a long, tapered organ. The base is thick, the tip no thicker than a finger -- a barb at the tip oozes, slicking the slightly-ribbed organ liberally.

Gamzee captures the organ's attention with his own hand, watching the prehensile tip weave through his fingers.
All the while, his gaze is on Karkat.

"Just wanted to show you how bad you got me. My nook feels worse. Almost wish you had a bulge a motherfucker could sit on." He almost drools at the idea, the slit between his thighs pulsating.

"You wanna put your nice, warm hands on it? Ain't gonna bite. That barb up at the top's just meant to make a motherfucker feel good -- I assume."

 

*

 

Interested in a way, but not quite enough to be a convert-- though, with things being the way they are, Karkat doesn't think he's got much of an option being that he's here due to divine revelation, as far as Gamzee says anyway (which, still better than Ampora). The most experience Karkat really has with religion is none, unless he wanted to count that one old drunkard who had been spewing nonsense a few sweeps back, proclaiming Karkat the connecter between Tyrian and Burgundy (pfft) and reciting scripture from some unknown text; not wanting to gain the attention of the Empress by whatever ways it may have happened, his village locked the guy up in the wareshive with a gag until he sobered up.

 

However, such thoughts don't get much room in his head when once again tongue is plunging through his slit. As a matter of fact, hardly any thought at all while slick muscle drives inside him, pushing his nerves through that spasming sensation, Karkat feeling as if his nerves had built up and were ready to topple over-- definitely more intense than when he fingers himself on his own. Enough that Karkat actually, literally, spills hot slime from his nook, moaning a cry and a trill under his hand as everything goes tensing rigid all at once. Hands squeezing firmly into his plush thighs as Karkat manages to get his legs around sturdy body and clings on tight.

A little too soon his body goes slack, Karkat dewy-eyed and panting hotly, still having his slurry drunk by Gamzee, who isn't looking that much more together either. Head raising to show how flushed the highblood is with his purple, while his lips are stained red with dribbles of it still making their way down his chin, his neck. Something in Karkat interjects how his mate-to-be looks rather good with his color.

 

That isn't the end of it though, Karkat dizzy with climax even as his eyes keep on Gamzee, the highblood climbing up close again. Tugging down the waistband of his pants while Karkat's eyes slowly widen; it's certainly an eyeful, watching that thing twist and curl, barbed tip dripping with slime and ribs looking a little wicked. Karkat may not have seen anyone's bulge in his life (Kanaya doesn't count because that time was an accident) but that probably takes the contest and sends everyone home, thick at the base and almost too long like that. And the way Gamzee is looking at him while handling his bulge sends quite a few messages, if not for being told how bad Karkat has him.

He'd laugh if he wasn't so breathless (couldn't tell Gamzee how often he wished the same), he'd deny the request if he hadn't just had what was maybe the best release to date (he should, look at that thing, what, was he feeding it or something??). ".....I ssspose," words come out slurred, taking Karkat a couple of times to at least get his mouth to enunciate a mite better, "Wouldn' be fair of me, yeah? If yyou're sure it won't bite." Sitting up is a chore, Karkat's body not wanting to move more than it has to, but at least Gamzee is close already, enough for Karkat to tentatively, shyly, take both warm delicate hands and cup around where royal purple bulge had knotted and kinked on itself, shivering as he's reminded of how cold Gamzee is.

 

*

 

The highblood sucks in a quiet hiss of air, his body tensing at the contact for a moment.
His bulge flexes , drawn away from Gamzee's cold hand. The organ eagerly wraps around Karkat's hand, the very tip wrapping around the troll's slender wrist.

With Karkat stuck in the back of his throat, Gamzee has to swallow a few times before he can get anything more than a trill out.

"Just a bulge. Ain't gonna... gonna do nothing." As he says this, breathless, his bulge flexes again, squeezing itself greedily around Karkat's hand. His own royal purple seeps from his bulge; a lighter, translucent lubricant drips from small openings along his bulge, while the tip leaves a smear of deep, dark purple on Karkat's smooth, grey skin.
"Here, try -- just -- " He coaxes Karkat into his lap, allowing the shift to fall back down. His target is the mutant's neck, his jawline; his ears and cheeks.

Gamzee grips Karkat tightly, squirming beneath the smaller troll.

" Fuck , I wanna -- " He muffles a long, pained groan into Karkat's neck as his bulge shifts from one wrist to the other, searching fruitlessly for something more .
Now, his nails dig into Karkat, holding the mutant still.
This is such a far cry from what they were doing in the caravan. That, now, seems like wriggler-play. Tentative pawing.

Gamzee shifts his hips, pulling in another hissing breath.

"Gimme something, Karkat." It's less of a demand and more a plea, and he occupies his mouth with Karkat's throat; kissing, licking, and nipping at the thin, sensitive skin.

 

*

 

It's doing a lot of something for not doing nothing.

Purple bulge slides over the skin of Karkat's hand, barbed tip around his wrist and pulsing along the length. Ribbed texture hardens and softens with it though it oozes slime no matter what, painting Karkat with purple. Gamzee pulls him into his lap, the shift falling back down his hips but not before Karkat is more or less straddling the highblood, cool mouth coming straight for any skin above his collarbone.

It's as if Gamzee thinks to claim over every bit of flesh he can, lips roving sensitive skin and keeping such a grip on Karkat as if he could up and bolt from him if he didn't. Underneath him Gamzee can't seem to still, trying to get at Karkat's skin or trying to find relief from his hands, bulge writhing around his wrist in search of a solution or better yet, something warm and tight. It's Gamzee's words carrying his need that gets Karkat thinking, obviously their current setup wasn't working and perhaps the way Gamzee sounds and buries his face into him maybe brings a pang of pity.

"Hey, hang on, just for a sec," Karkat manages past kisses and nips to his throat, getting trills and chirps from him as he tries to separate just a little bit, just enough-- even more difficult is getting his bulge to release him. The shift comes back up just enough for Karkat to get his fingers under the waistband of the silk, shoving it down over his hips and getting it at least to his knees with the stockings. Enacting his idea and turning in Gamzee's lap, no longer straddling him but planting his ass over his crotch while somehow managing to be deft enough to pull thick purple bulge up between his thighs, keeping the tip wrapped around his fingers.

 

This could work, Karkat's read about stuff happening like this. Pressing his thighs tight enough to make friction while he squeezes on the rest of the length. Gamzee still has access to his throat and Karkat just needs to brace with his other hand if he wanted to try and move, which he does, in fact, try, slightly lifting his hips up before dropping back down to the base of the bulge, holding firmly to the tip so it wouldn't try to squirm in anywhere it didn't need to.

 

*

 

A chirp escapes Gamzee, his greedy gaze fixated on Karkat as he repositions himself.
His bulge is all too eager to comply, writhing between Karkat's thighs. Gamzee bites back a moan, a deluge of pale purple lubricant tracking down Karkat's thighs; seeping into the hems of his pure white stockings.

Nothing that can't be hidden under the shift.

Nothing anyone needs to concern themselves with.

 

His tip oozes dark, thick genetic material over Karkat's fingers; the barbed end curls up toward Karkat's fingers.

Gamzee gasps sharply, letting out a shuddering breath.

"You get t-this idea from your books, Karkat?" Gamzee asks, experimentally shifting his hips.
His hands hover, lingering over neck and chest, before settling into the dip of the mutant's waist.

"Don't tell me no one... showed you how to do this." The highblood buries his face back in Karkat's neck, snapping his hips a few times before settling into a slower, less demanding rhythm.
While the tip of his cool bulge is eager to remain coiled in Karkat's hand, the remainder of his bulge -- where the organ begins to truly thicken -- can sense a deeper, better heat, and curls up toward it.

Gamzee's teeth scrape Karkat's skin as the upper ridges of his bulge greedily press against the plush mound between Karkat's thighs.
He's not doing it on purpose, but he doesn't stop thrusting, either; indulging in the quiet smack of their flesh.

 

*

 

Perhaps the stockings should have come all the way off, thrown toward his satchel to avoid the purple stains it catches; oh well, at least the shift is long enough to cover anything that should be covered.

The content of his books is brought up and Karkat glances away, giving a delayed, sheepish and reluctant answer, "Y-Yeah, what of it..," Underneath him, Gamzee moves and adjusts, cool hands skimming his skin to rest on his waist just above where his hips begin to widen, grip strong and firm and suspiciously supporting Karkat. Face pressing into the warmth of his neck, only getting warmer at the implication Gamzee makes to him.

"Of course not! Why--aahgh!?" The sudden snap up startles him enough to cut off his words, thighs squeezing tighter in surprised response along with his hold on the rest of the bulge.

Being thrust between his thighs and smearing purple slick over lush flesh, Gamzee's bulge seems to pulse in tandem with the movement. The thicker part of the base however picks up on where heat radiates the most, Karkat gasping as it gets a mind of it's own and takes to grinding ridges at his hot slit. The sensation is much different than Gamzee's tongue, in that Karkat constantly feels the texture rubbing against whatever nerves are right there at his entry, biting his lip on a moan as his body slowly rocks against the movement of it's own volition, a familiar feeling beginning to build again.

 

*

 

Gamzee pulls Karkat into his rhythm, rocking heavily against the mutant.
Living the way they do, time alone is scarce; he can't remember the last time he had an entire day to himself, to please himself.

That never stopped the deluge of daytime fantasies of a matesprit or palemate wrapped around him; a pitchmate hissing at him; an ashen interest warily eyeing him. In those daydreams, they're always warm, soft -- not specifically lowblooded, but always lower than him.

The last thing Gamzee would do is lie with a seadweller.

 

Wrapping an arm around Karkat, Gamzee frees up a hand, and blindly finds Karkat's own.

"Let it go." He says, hot and heady and needy.

"Won't go in you. Promise that." His long, cool fingers slip between Karkat's digits, while his other hand cups the troll's chest -- an area he'd neglected before.
The moment his bulge slips free, the organ tries to curl up into Karkat -- and Gamzee slams his hips flush to the troll's backside, only allowing the thicker midsection of his bulge to vainly squirm and writhe against his mate.

He chuckles.

"My bulge'll be perfect for opening you up nice and slow." The tip drags lazily along Karkat's thigh, curling up to the mound between the mutant's legs; dripping, it roams lazily to Karkat's other thigh.

Gamzee seems content to hold Karkat there, shallowly rolling his hips, grinding the girth of his bulge up into the mutant.

"I want you," his hand moves from Karkat's chest to his neck, urging the troll's head back, "to come on my bulge. Can my mate-to-be do such a miracle for his fated?"

 

*

 

Even Karkat can feel how his heat must seep into wherever he touches, the part of Gamzee's bulge between his thighs becoming somewhat lukewarm, at least enough that Karkat isn't shivering as much from contact. An arm comes across his body, holding him into Gamzee's chest as cool fingers slip through his own still holding slicked up length-- and isn't that a way to hold hands --, Gamzee's voice heavy by his ear and pleasure gradually building up again.

 

Of course Karkat is apprehensive about letting go, from what he knows bulges tend to have a mind of their own, as Gamzee's does now, twisting and writhing as it does. But he does, breathing heavy and deep as another hand smooths over his chest, noise fluttering in his throat as sensitive buds respond by going stiff and puffy under chilled palm, the fabric of the shift between them. Immediately purple length curls back in a near-flash, only for Gamzee to thrust forward flush against Karkat's ass, jarring sensation from his nook, the thicker, ridged part of his bulge rubbing against and into his puffy slit, just unable to get any further into him while Karkat drops a yelp, taking the hand that isn't busy (or slime-covered) to slap over his mouth again.

He'd roll his eyes at the remark-- if Karkat's made to take the Empress and potentially bigger he's sure he can take Gamzee, personal boundaries aside --if he had the coordination for the moment. Instead he's hyperaware of where hands are on his body and the cool bulge trying to find a way in (only really thinking about it after Gamzee's said so; if all of that was inside him right now..gosh, he can't even finish the thought), halted for Gamzee to hump and grind the base of the organ at plump nooklips. Karkat's never had anything more than his own short fingers inside his nook in his life, but remembering how tongue and fingers had worked him and now how ridges grind against sensitive flesh, Karkat can't help but imagine what it would feel like if...if....

Now, this, where Gamzee slides his hand across his skin to tilt his head back, flushed cheeks and dewy eyes while his hips keep moving along with Gamzee's rhythm, is what he's read about for sure. He should know this. He's read it, and yet this moment he's living right now feels like so much more, so intense. It's like Karkat's under a trance, unable to look away from Gamzee now that his focus is locked to him. What he asks is something straight out of Karkat's more raunchier reads (where it's nothing but purple prose and sheer smut but still), with the way he words it even, Karkat can't unhear it.

His body answers before his mind works enough for words, that build inside him cresting high before bursting into a flood in all applicable contexts, Karkat sighing harshly as his breath catches, turning into a fluttery moan as hot slurry gushes over ridges and girth.

 

*

 

The dewy look in Karkat's eyes is perfect -- absolutely perfect -- and Gamzee can't look away, doesn't allow Karkat to look away, as he keeps up a steady rhythm.

Even when Karkat - his mate - shudders and gushes over his bulge, Gamzee can't tear his eyes from the sight.
His lips part, breath coming in quiet takes; he can feel Karkat's orgasm run through him, through the pulsating of his nook to the way his back tenses; the vibrations of his throat.

 

It doesn't take long for Gamzee to build and build, breath harsher, hips rougher. His hand moves from that slender neck to Karkat's chest, cupping and squeezing a plump bud - and, with one last thrust, the highblood sees stars.
" Karkat ," the troll's name comes suddenly, unbidden, to his lips, while he empties himself between the troll's thighs.

"Karkat, Karkat, Karkat," the other's name becomes a prayer, first rough and then breathless as he rides out his release; as his bulge flexes and writhes, releasing an outpour of thick, royal purple slurry.
Afterwards, panting, he slowly lowers himself to sit -- Karkat on his lap.

 

"Karkat," Gamzee says it again, quiet and affectionate, " miracles ." His cool breath brushes the mutant's cheeks, and he noses and Karkat's neck.

"You're a whole new league of miraculous, mate-to-be." His hand still holds Karkat's bud, cupping the flesh even as his bulge gradually retracts, and the aftershocks to his sensitised nook cease.
"Kiss me?" He asks, settling to wrap both arms around the troll.

"Or didn't I earn myself no affections?" He teases, lightly, mind blissfully empty.

 

*

 

How his days usually go when Karkat gets the urge is one-and-done; reaching climax twice, especially so closely together, is unreal and leaves him even more fuzzed than before. Gamzee continues thrusting between his thighs, against his nook, ridges catching a nerve every now and then and earning a short, quiet chirp for it from Karkat's throat. He can't even dream of a third, Karkat sure that he'd have to be out of his mind for such a thing.

 

Gamzee follows after him soon enough, hips slamming from underneath and the way Karkat is handled getting rougher, tighter-- the highblood breathing him in and hands roving again, dragging back down from his neck to push at his chest, making another throaty chirp for a budded palmful being squeezed. His mate-to-be's orgasm is much more intense, holding tight on Karkat and jerking against him. Karkat can feel him cumming, feel from the base the pump of slime that moves down the length until it bursts from the tip, Gamzee repeating his name like a mantra, turning into a much more reverent prayer than the ones in the big tent. As the pour begins to slow, so does the chanting of his name, Gamzee sounding closer to as if he was sobbing tugging at the pity and growing affection Karkat has for him.

They're both pretty breathless by the end of it, Karkat pulled and set more in Gamzee's lap while ignoring all the purple on his thighs potentially on his stockings. His mate-to-be can't seem to keep his face out of Karkat's skin, pressing in everywhere he's allowed while proclaiming Karkat a miracle, still tweaking with a hardened bud on his chest. Caged in again and asked for a kiss, and Karkat can't think of any reason to say no, deny the request, when they've already done this much. Even Gamzee's bulge had already slipped back into it's sheath and Karkat can now shift without worry, turning just enough to better face Gamzee, leaning up even and pulling the highblood's face down to meet his.

 

*

 

A part of Gamzee is surprised that Karkat turns to kiss him, almost certain the mutant would reject him; return to his senses and scramble to the farthest end of the tent.
It takes him a moment to reciprocate, leaning into the affection, lingering and savouring it.

He doesn't pry open Karkat's lips, but shares breath with the troll, nonetheless. Tilts his chin, and allows his arms to loosen, fall to Karkat's hips.

 

"Mmn," he groans, breaking their lip lock, "thank-you." His ears twitch, then lower, alongside his gaze.

They're both a mess, and Gamzee doesn't know if Karkat's stockings and panties can be saved.
For a while, the highblood just gazes at Karkat, holding him close. A hand on the small of his back. Gamzee doesn't remember the last time his head had been so mercifully empty, and he's slow to unfurl from this stasis.

"Sleep?" His ears rise, and he blinks while posing the question.

"We'll clean at... at dusk." There should be a body of water nearby; it's rare they stop too far from one. After all, they need to apply their paints, bathe themselves, and clean their clothes.

How he's going to scrub Karkat's stockings free of his own slurry, he isn't sure.
They might have to go, and he brandishes a lazy smile, shifting Karkat off his lap.

"Pants." He pulls up his own, regaining some small modicum of modesty.

"You'd fit Karako's pants." He extrapolates -- the twins' things are too small, but Karako prefers his clothing to be loose and airy.
The highblood gathers up some of the cleaner furs, creating a nice pile a safe distance from their recent activities.

"Can wear those while we see what can be done for your underthings." His movements are lazy, bordering on sloppy, and Gamzee plops down into the pile the moment he concludes it finished.

He'd probably made it larger than need be, but he chirrs at Karkat questioningly -- as if he couldn't just pick the mutant up and drop him in the pile.

 

*

 

For a good moment Karkat's head is empty save for the want and impulse that lets him kiss Gamzee without another thought to it. Lightly gasping as air moves back and forth between them, where his lips are touched seems to spark, sends something through his body that throbs until they part, Karkat breathless and panting with a half-lidded gaze stuck on a dreamy stare. He wants to lean in again, Gamzee's right there after all, follow after his lips and greedily take another.

....At least, well, he does, but that dreaminess starts to fade out and alertness brightens his eyes, which also take a look around at the mess of red and purple slick-- oh stars, there's so much --, the shame and sense of propriety that he's grown up with returning in decent bits and pieces. Already flushed in the face and running back over what they'd done in his head-- because that's absolutely going to help --, switching between glancing at Gamzee and looking away because of the look on his face, like empty dreamy affection (it's almost pure, if not for what they'd done).

Sleep sounds ideal, and talking gives him an opportunity to recover from his own head, "You don't think..anyone will notice?" Maybe he should take off the stockings now, if at least to hide that, since it's evidence.

But so much for underthings being a priority.

 

Karkat hadn't even noticed Gamzee's pants were still down, pointedly looking at the furs for decency (ha, when he'd already seen that thing Gamzee's packing?? What, did he think he could unsee it unfeel it between his thighs and unimagine how it might feel actually pushing through his nook??). "He'd let me borrow them?" Oh, but then maybe he could finally ask about Kanaya, since Karako had been the last to see her when Karkat agreed to being taken.

Gamzee now up takes the cleaner furs to arrange into a pile, Karkat trying not to eye the ones with their mess of slurry all over them. Turning back to his mate-to-be at his chirring, already laying in the pile-- the look on his face borderline sweet and questioning hopeful and not the one he'd had just moments ago where Karkat had suspected he was thinking about something dirty. Karkat looks at him, thinking, even though there isn't much to think about; would he be sleeping with anyone else if not by himself? Rolling his shoulders and, ultimately, taking his panties and stockings off the rest of the way, smattered with purple and obvious evidence, folding them up to throw on his satchel. Padding over to the pile and after a beat decides to join the highblood-- he's already had the other's mouth on his nook and bulge out, this shouldn't be anything so drastic. "....I suppose I won't try and run away today then."

 

*

 

Almost immediately, Gamzee rumbles in quiet, drugged satisfaction.

"Wait for dusk. Don't want no one to burn." The highblood nudges, and then pulls, Karkat snug to him; back-to-chest.
His persistent purr grows as he finds where they fit together, Karkat's soft body resting easily against Gamzee's own sinew.

He can almost - almost - curl entirely around the mutant, burying his face atop the other's hair rather than choose the furs beneath them.

Long, strong arms wrap around the mutant, one hand resting idly atop the other's stomach, while Gamzee gingerly cups a bud -- his fingers sink into the flesh, and he can feel Karkat's heart beating twice as quickly as his own.

 

He has to wonder if it's nerves, or just biology.
Maybe a combination of both.

"Be awful sad to wake on my lonesome, though, feel me?" His voice is low, distorted from his rolling purr.

 

"I feel you. Your lil' pusher working its overtime to keep that miraculous colour moving inside you." He nuzzles into Karkat's hair, and slowly grows still.
As a wriggler, weak-legged and fresh from the caverns, he'd slept with Chahut and Marvus, trading trolls with Karako.

Chahut would cradle him close, let him indulge in the sugary scent that clings faintly to her; Marvus would let Gamzee flop into his lap, chirping for attention.
On the rare days Gamzee and Kurloz share a tent, nothing is said, and little sleep is had.
Now, Gamzee falls into a deeper sleep than he has in a perigee; his purring dulls into background noise. A reminder of his contentment. His grip on Karkat loosens to something comfortable, claws kept away from tender flesh.

It's needy, disgustingly toeing the line of pale -- perhaps jumping over the line entirely -- but, for the day, all Gamzee knows is warmth and sweetness.
For once, he's even late to wake; the others emerge from their tents, and round Gamzee and Karkat's shared tent as if they know.

When he does wake, it's a slow process. He feels like an engorged purrbeast ready to lay under the moonlight; far too contented to stay exactly where he is.

Notes:

I wonder, can I even reach you in this way?

And then I think, feel, that not reaching at all might be worse, in a way.

To you my friend, and everyone else: Please be safe and well.

Chapter 7: Euphor & Disagreement

This, Karkat also knows; how many times has he read of flush and pitch mates, of pale and ash, taking up such a position, back-to-chest-- spooning , a popular term --, how many more times has he imagined this in his head? Though, this feels more like he's being enveloped, fitted into Gamzee as if he could wrap around Karkat. With those long limbs of his it certainly feels like he can.

Of course, being pulled in like this, in spite of recent activities, Karkat's heart races while he tenses up, nervous eyes and breath bated (what was that about this not being anything drastic??). With his back to his chest though, Karkat can feel the rumbled purr, resonating against his spine, nearly lulling Karkat to do the same. Swallowing as sinewy, strong arms hold him in, dashing whatever remaining possibility of escape (if there was any to begin with) as hands find somewhere to fit, one resting over his stomach and the other quietly causing Karkat's breath to catch, squeezing a palmful of budded chest. Telling Karkat how he can feel his heart pounding away under his chest, keeping him and his miraculous color alive, nuzzling into his hair until tucking Karkat under his jaw, sleep taking more and more over.

It's definitely different than sleeping with Kanaya, who's never made him so nervous to lay side by side with. Sleeping with her was always a comfort thing, neither wanting to be alone for the day or needing a touch of pale for something that'd happened and thus was always a chaste, gentle activity. Thinking back to such times, it sure does make him miss her.

 

Somehow though, Karkat does fall asleep to the rhythmic constancy of Gamzee's purring up against his back, surrounding him and relaxing his body into the furs, into Gamzee where he fits near perfectly. Usually an early riser himself for things like chores, it's always a surprise if Karkat finds himself sleeping in, though not at all unwelcome. Opening his eyes slowly and languidly, taking in his surroundings and remembering where he was exactly before one of Gamzee's arms move, getting Karkat's attention right away, along with the slight hustling outside.

 

*

 

Gamzee's lids flutter, fingers curling, nails harmlessly kneading into soft flesh.

The highblood stretches, moving out and away from Karkat, his muscles cramped just enough to remind him of the prior night -- and the dawn he shared with Karkat.
Sitting up, Gamzee's rumbling purr finally dies as a soft exhale.

The furs he'd rejected for the pile are an absolute mess, and it's obvious; slurry dries differently than blood. Its thick consistency makes it take longer to dry, too; everyone but the twins will probably have an idea about what happened.
It shouldn't make Gamzee want to return to the pile and hide in Karkat as much as it does. The mutant is his mate . There's nothing wrong with what they did last night.

His gaze turns to his mate, sleep clinging to the corners of his vision. It looks better on Karkat, curled up, just-woken.

"Ain't you so cute." He comments, voice low and dry.

 

"We're gonna get going after everyone got their shit in order, so," he gets to his feet, offering his hands for Karkat, "ask Brother Kurloz or Brother Marvus for some nutrition. They handle that shit best." Gamzee pats himself off, knowing he reeks .

The highblood grabs another pair of pants, taking along with him Karkat's partially-ruined stockings and panties -- which he tries to hide close to his chest.

"Oh, ask Brother Karako on borrowing some of his pants, too. I'll be at the river if a brother needs me." With that, Gamzee scampers from the tent -- clearly late -- and trots into the trees, making for a river he can faintly hear.

 

Outside, in the blooming dusk, Marvus hands the twins their share of dried Lusus meat, while Karako ambles back from the waterside; washed clean, and face painted.

Horns, as well -- even though no other Indigobloods engage in the same. It'd be too sensitive, but Karako manages to work a stark striped pattern atop the chitin. Chahut has postulated that, due to whatever misgivings he'd had as a grub, the nerves is Karako's horns have been weakened or deadened.
Not that any of them have ever been particularly keen to find out.

 

"Yo, Kat," Marvus, yet to visit the waterside, offers the mutant some dried Lusus meat, "sup? Feel like some grub?" His smile is relaxed, eyes lidded. Karako comes over with a honk , his belt of knives clanging at his hips.

"Awh, shiz lil' cuz, how many times Cha-Cha gotta tell you to eat before you re-face your self?" It hardly sounds like an admonishment, Karako getting his share of meat -- a smaller share than what's offered to Karkat.

Karako responds with another honk , dropping into a casual crouch to eat.
Free of food, Marvus joins him, and glances up to Karkat.

"Where your clown at, Kat? Frozen strutpods? Get your chill on with us." A slim finger points to Karako, who is trying to make a show of not messing up his facepaint.

"Bro Ko out here a real conversationalist on all things academia when he get the righteous feel for it. I could spin a tale or two myself, but I ain't gonna lie and say I got the boonies of wealth on all castes. That finery on your mate-day garms, though? Illest. Bro Loz half-obsessed with that thing."

 

*

 

The messed furs have his eye as well, such evidence would be considered a scandal for sure in his village. Karkat sits himself up, only a little tint of red on his cheeks at the comment, nodding at the statement of them getting packed up as he grabs Gamzee's offered hand. Leaving Karkat with instruction and making for the river before Karkat can say anything to him, seeing that he took along his stockings-- also evidence. Looking back to the slimed fur, Karkat wonders if there was anything he could do to take care of it. According to Kanaya, furs were a little more difficult to clean than cotton or linen cloth, since dunking it in water would ruin the material sometimes.

So what could he do? Karkat can't think of anything that would help right now besides gathering up the fur-- and...well, dumping it out somewhere to be left and forgotten; can't be evidence if no witnesses see it. But it sounds a little busy outside, he can't just walk out with it...perhaps he'd think of something later. With that in mind, Karkat decidedly, gingerly, drags the messed fur to a side of the tent, hopeful that it'd be overlooked until something could be figured.

Grabbing his satchel and, after some thought, slips the wedding heels back on, Karkat exits the tent to see about some pants. He spots Marvus, but doesn't have any idea how to approach him..nor Karako for that matter. Hasn't seen Kurloz yet, though not that Karkat would want to try and talk to him; he'd be civil and polite but Karkat isn't about to purposefully seek him out. That exchange between him and Chahut and how he talks to Karkat, politeness aside, sort of leaves a bitter, suspicious taste in his mouth.

 

Luckily, it's Marvus that addresses him first once the twins have set off with their share of meat. Seems about as laid back as Gamzee and shares the same need to butcher half the words that come out of his mouth, casually calling him. The Lusus meat seems to have dried nicely and Karkat gratefully takes his share, "Ah-- yeah, thank you..," He strips a piece off to taste, still gamey but also still good from sitting in the sun.

Karako comes along, meaning Karkat didn't have to look for him, already painted for the night though he gets a non-chiding from Marvus. When asked where Gamzee is, Karkat doesn't know if saying 'washing up' will imply there was something to wash up from; doesn't know if Marvus is also the type to tease and joke around like Chahut but he's not going to chance it. "Sure, I can chill for a bit."

This is his opportunity, he realizes, coming close enough for conversation and crouching by Karako. "Actually," he ends up sounding a little sheepish, but maybe that's a good thing, might help get what he's after, "I got a favor to ask you, a couple actually." Karkat regards him, "Gamzee said you'd probably be closest to my size, so I was hoping to borrow some pants from you." Giving a quick glance to Marvus before continuing, "And, I was hoping to talk to you about something else, privately."

 

*

 

Karako takes a moment to recognise that Karkat is talking to him and not Marvus -- but he's the troll closest in size to Karkat.

Sure, he might have all the stature of a slightly overgrown pupa, but all of his garments are loose and airy. They'd probably fit Karkat without issue.
"Lil' Ko caught your eye?" Marvus chuckles, getting to his feet with graceful ease.

"Blessin's, Kat. Ko helpful." He flashes the two a winning smile -- all of his smiles are winning, dazzling -- and casually strolls off toward the waterside.
Karako looks at Karkat, then offers out his own smile.
He looks too much like a wriggler, but the hints of purple in his eyes puts him closer to Gamzee's age than the twins.

"What ails you, child?" Still crouched, he finally speaks -- and his voice seems too low, too present , for his small body.

"I can postulate on your 'favours'; presumably concerning that meddlesome Jadeblood? Kanaya? Yes, I held her back at the royal palace for what I judged as ample time, and kept an ocular globe and aural canal open for her pursuit. The sight of spilled Jade sits uneasily with me for a multitude of reasons, many of which are biased -- yet these biases are respected, and I am grateful." Karako speaks with an authority about him that he lacks when simply honking, the depths of his eyes betraying an experience beyond that of Gamzee, Marvus, or Chahut.
Perhaps Kurloz could understand him.

 

Perhaps.

 

"Last I was able to ascertain, Kanaya was alive, and Ampora had no intentions of pursuing her. That may have changed, although, were I him, my priority would be your retrival." A loud squawk from the treeline has Karako's neck snapping in the direction, his eyes widening.

He relaxes when he sees Chahut emerge, hair held back from her face in a long braid; naked and dripping water, carrying her previous days' clothing over her arm.

Her face has been meticulously painted, and her taut, hourglass figure would put Karkat to shame if she were also a breeder.

"Evening, little ones." She murmurs, ambling past them, disappearing into a tent.
Karako's ears flick, and he leans in to address Karkat.

"What else would you have of me, Karkat? Only the pants?" His brows raise, wide eyes focused on the mutant.

 

*

 

Marvus absolutely blinding him with a smile is one thing. When Karako actually talks instead of honks like Karkat thought he would have gotten he's thrown for a fucking loop. Honking aside, Karkat isn't expecting his voice to be like that; he'd expected something matching his height, but like with the twins and his capture, Karkat should know better by now than to trust his expectations. But still.

What the hell?
What in the actual fresh f u c k???

 

He almost doesn't hear a word he says-- almost. Karako talks like he's at least a few sweeps beyond Gamzee, even though there's still pupae grey in his eyes when Karkat can look past his own shock. Calls him 'child', like he's sweeps beyond that, articulated like--

Like a Jade. That shouldn't surprise Karkat either, already knowing that Karako had been reared by a Jadeblood. But more importantly--

 

"She is alive? From last you saw her??" And Ampora hadn't gone after her, but that still left him coming after Karkat, which he should be worried about but fuck Ampora, like he would waste thought-space on him when he has Kanaya to think about.

Karako's head suddenly snaps in direction of noise from the trees, startling Karkat to flinch back. It's only Chahut that emerges, albeit naked and holy shit she's built. Karkat's only ever seen Kanaya naked but Chahut puts her to shame and nearly himself, averting his eyes out of decency (well, did he need to? Since she's seen him kind of naked already). Once she's gone to redress in her tent, Karako brings attention back to the conversation, Karkat bringing himself to focus. "Oh, uhm...," he fidgets in place, still crouched and seeing the glint of his shoes. "I don't suppose you'd happen to have another pair of shoes you don't mind lending? These can get sold for pretty high with the dress and the gems, and they're not good for traveling besides."

 

*

 

Karako's head tilts almost comically.

"I don't understand why you think she'd be dead. If she has expired, then I'm unaware of the fact." He also takes a moment to look at Karkat's heels, as if he has any idea where to best sell them.
In response to that, Karako leans back, and plops onto his behind, showcasing his bare, callused feet.

"I refuse to wear shoes. One must make efforts to increase their capabilities where they can. Footwear is also often optional for us." He flexes his feet, then crosses his legs.

"Brother Kurloz is the only one of us who takes it upon himself to be meticulously clothed at all times. He prefers to bathe at dawn rather than dusk, so you should find him in either his personal tent," a clawed finger points to the tent he'd shared with Kurloz the previous day, "or in the main tent. Request from him a pair of strutpod coverings. I'll be back." He hops to his feet, trotting off into his own tent.
A moment later, Karako returns with a pair of loose trousers, and a strip of leather. He offers both to Karkat.

 

Gamzee returns from the forest, quickly darting into his tent to dress; Chahut has already begun to take down the large main tent.

On the floor inside, Kurloz sits, working away at the dress.
When Gamzee comes back out, he clicks, approaching Karkat.

"Good choice -- now if we can find us an Olive-type tunic for you, mate-to-be, you'll be all ready to face off with those heretics. If we get moving with quick-time, should be able to make it to the market before dawn." The highblood chitters, scratching Karkat between the horns.

"Dealing with those blueblood motherfuckers looked like it got you some type of prideful last night. Might be a brother could dress down in... Navy or Blue... and accompany you." Chahut and Marvus would never pass for anything other than Indigo, but everyone else could obscure their colour to an extent; Gamzee finds the idea of trying to pass as a blueblood slightly silly, and neither is he as built as most Navybloods -- but some trolls tend to clam up around a gaggle of Indigobloods.

It'd also help throw Ampora off their scent -- if he's following them -- if they weren't reported in any large communal hubs.

 

*

 

Karkat shakes his head, "Not about her being potentially dead. You're the only person I know of who'd seen her last, and you're saying that Ampora didn't round on her. To me that means she's alive and okay and hopefully gone home." Kanaya was sensible enough that she should have gone home, wasn't she?

After Karako sits back, Karkat feels so stupid to ask him about shoes, being that he's barefoot. Face in palm as the other goes on, posing to him that he'd have to ask Kurloz-- a venture Karkat isn't all that pleased to attempt --before jumping up to go to his tent. Plain loose trousers and a leather strip are handed to him and Karkat graciously takes both.

On his way toward his shared tent (he's not going to just hike up the shift out here in the open to put on the pants, he's got nothing on underneath!), he spies Gamzee darting in ahead of him, slowing his walk for a moment. Chahut is now dressed and starting on taking down the big tent, part of it already done away with and revealing Kurloz sitting on the floor, still picking gem after gem off of the dress.

Should he...try? To ask Kurloz while Chahut was in earshot? It sounds better than trying to ask when alone, Karkat working up his mettle; Karako had him fooled with his youthful appearance, Kurloz does not with his deference to Gamzee. He's only taken a step forward when Gamzee emerges from the tent, now dressed, jogging up to Karkat and commenting on the pair of pants he's acquired.

"Think we're gonna need more than an Olive tunic," Karkat says once his head is free of scritching fingers, turning to look at Gamzee with his scorched eyes. His own color barely passes for Burgundy thanks to the flecks of grey still in his eyes, and now that he thinks more about it, he'll barely pass for Olive if someone decides to pay too much attention. Though he can't deny Gamzee calling him prideful; he'd like for him to try being a mutie breeder and deal with bluebloods (excluding his gentle, Navy jewelry maker). Karkat hums at the suggestion of Gamzee going Navy-- too purple for blue, "Mm? You'd accompany me? Why? Don't think I can handle myself?" Well, he can't, but he doesn't have to act like that's true and he sure can hold out like he can. Kanaya's shop was a smaller controlled area; the market is not, Karkat understands that much.

 

*

 

"Never said that. Maybe a motherfucker wants to walk the streets with his mate-to-be's all." That's only partially a bold-faced lie, only a half-sin, and if Kurloz or Chahut care enough to notice, they don't care enough to scold him.
The older troll is hunched over the dress, his diligent work bearing fruit; there are two packs of gems, and a large swathe of the skirt is now bare. He slows to a stop when Gamzee clicks.

"You didn't sleep, did you?" The younger troll asks, stepping just a bit closer to Karkat as purple eyes roll their direction.

Before they can get an answer, Gamzee continues.

"Go find Karkat some shoes. Something what an Olive'd wear, or close to it. Something what goes under a tunic, too." a beat of silence passes before Kurloz nods, stands, and leaves to search for what Gamzee had demanded more than requested.

Chahut laughs, rolling up a large section of tent fabric.

"If a Sister didn't know what was right and proper, one would think... You and 'Loz pitch as tar." Gamzee doesn't flush, but bristles.

"That's foul."

"Foul indeed... Might I steal your mate's attention for a minute? We travelling together today... ain't we?" Gamzee sighs and nods, leaning down to whisper into Karkat's ear.

"If you keep your eyes down and flutter those pretty lashes, ain't no one gonna scrutinize your colours too much. I wouldn't, anyway." He chitters, leaving to dismantle his own smaller tent.
Chahut asks Karkat to help move the dress and the two small bags of gems Kurloz had dislodged, directing the mutant to the secondary caravan.

Her hair is still damp, but has begun to fluff up; she tosses her load of tent fabric into the back, stopping Karkat with a low chirp.

"Just wanted to see how a brother's doing after his first day... Gamzee still nothing more than an overgrown wriggler, Messiahs forgive the blasphemous truths." Her smile falls, and a dim concern blooms behind her eyes.

"He didn't make unwanted advances, did he...? A Sister doesn't need to club him over the head a few times... does she?" She flips her braid over her shoulder, and pulls free the tie.

"Quadrants and mates can be a most frightful thing." She combs her fingers through her dark, thick locks, working loose the braid.

"Everything in order for our newest one?"

 

*

 

Karkat raises a brow at that, lips pursed and suspecting Gamzee's words. "..Right." He's barely been left out of the highblood's sight since he's been with the troupe, Karkat very much doubts Gamzee just wants to walk the street with him.

But, his dilemma is solved without having to bring attention to it, Gamzee getting Kurloz's attention and throwing what might be considered chiding with orders following right after. Karkat would have sighed in relief if he wasn't in the way of eyes (could kiss Gamzee too if not for the same reason). Chahut makes an observation, though Karkat can feel Gamzee stiffen next to him, obviously displeased with her remarks, foul he calls it.

He's asked for by Chahut and is a little surprised that he'd be traveling with her for the night, had expected for Gamzee to continue not letting him out of his sight. But it's not an unwelcome change, Karkat grabbing the dress and the full bags of gems Kurloz had worked free, thinking to sort them out once he's in the caravan and following after her to put things away.

 

Karkat chirrs in question, though now too growing concerned as he's not quite seen the expression come across her features until now. It only takes Karkat seconds to register what else she's asking aside from how his first day with them was, cheeks red and the words getting jumbled in his throat, "Ah-- no, no, I'm fine! Nothing happened! He didn't do anything to me!" nothing that Karkat didn't allow anyway. Once Karkat can stop stumbling words and answer like a person who didn't just lie he does, "I'm alright, everything's in order for me."

 

*

 

A relaxes smile works its way to Chahut's lips, an amused trill escaping her throat.

"Good... Mouthfuls of slander on what we mirthful followers get up to. Some take it as permission... Some get their bones ground into our special stardust." She clasps her hands together, eyeing Gamzee, who grasps a pair of soft-soled leather slips, and a plain undershirt.
He makes his way toward them, a questioning chirp when he sees Karkat's things in the back of the caravan.

"The fuck's this?" He puts the shoes down in front of Karkat, addressing Chahut.

"Figured our newest member could take a ride with brother Karako and I this fine night." Chahut responds in her passive manner -- and Gamzee can't help the tone of his voice.

" What ? Why ? What did you -- Karkat's my mate! I ain't gonna just let the motherfucker get tossed around." He hisses, eyes thinning.
Chahut regards him calmly. As she lifts a hand, presumably to pat Gamzee's head, the younger troll hisses.

"Don't get clade on me! You got issues with me, I expect you to handle 'em as fits us." This is usually where Chahut would continue to pat Gamzee between the horns, or pull him close to her chest until he calms down -- but, with Karkat in the picture, new lines have been drawn.

 

Clade , for Gamzee, isn't a thing.

 

He'd rather fight Chahut -- even though a few good hits from her would kill him -- than allow himself to be pacified by her.
" Well ?" Gamzee continues, and the twins have stopped their playing; Kurloz is sneaking peeks of the trio while packing up.

"You gonna let me have my mate, or we gonna have us a nice lil' dusk strife?"

Chahut's managing to keep her expression neutral, but she's not backing down, either. Her gaze flickers to Karkat, then back to Gamzee, while she contemplates the offer.

Gamzee would probably fight until one of them died -- and for what? She knows better than to open her mouth against the direct descendent of The Grand Highblood, but she's also used to being able to reason with him.

If this is how her Navyblood views quadrants, then she can understand why the young troll doesn't want to enter into one.

 

*

 

Karkat could have gone his whole life not knowing that the stardust wasn't actually stardust and be completely fine with that. He gives Chahut a light smile anyway that she seemed to be looking out for him (even if he was basically molested, Karkat allowed partook even it, there isn't anything to do because of that alone).

Turning toward the way her eyes flick, Karkat sees Gamzee with something more reasonable than wedding heels and a plain shirt. The pleased expression quickly slides into subdued shock as Gamzee pretty much yells at Chahut. Even if Karako puts him off a little from now on Karkat wouldn't have minded riding with the both of them, even though Gamzee's making it out to be a mate thing-- like they've stolen him away or something. Were they not in the habit of rotating caravan buddies??

Even as Chahut lifts a placating hand Gamzee only hisses and growls at her for it. It's feeling like he really intends to fight her, all because Karkat isn't riding with him; in a way, it could be considered sweet, but at the same time it feels like they're dealing with, well, to use a term, an overgrown wriggler, who's on the verge of throwing a tantrum.

 

Karkat, unfortunately, doesn't know better than to open his mouth against the Grand Highblood's descendant, nor does he quite care or for that matter, know, and opening his mouth to let word venom out is what he does best anyway. "Aren't you asking the wrong person to let you have me??" He probably shouldn't butt in but he's not quite sure what else to do here. "And who is gonna toss me around, huh!? Maybe I want to ride with them, did you think of that!? What, are you gonna strife with me too, huh??" He's all puffed up for someone his meager height, getting Gamzee's attention and putting himself more and more between both Indigos, as always not quite thinking things through before running his mouth.

 

*

 

"I asked Ampora, I asked that Jade, and I asked you. Why the fuck you're up and deciding to pitch a motherfucking tent right now, I don't know -- but, sure, if a motherfucker needs to lacerate his mate's ass, he'll do it!" Gamzee growls, dropping the undershirt to prompty turn.

" First , Chahut. She forgets too often on who the motherfuck she is." He mutters, and the twins know to stay out of Gamzee's way.
They also know to stay away from Chahut.

With Gamzee's back turned, a sick look crosses her face.

"Ashen solicitations be appreciated, but... A Sister won't tell you what to do." She waits a number of more moments, watching Gamzee, hoping he'll storm off into the treeline or get in the back of the front caravan and ride it out -- but, he's an Indigoblood. They don't just wait out their anger.

When she knows Gamzee is going for his weapons, she heaves a sigh, screws her features into placidity, and hefts her axe from the back of the caravan.
"Messiahs forgive me." She murmurs this to herself.

"Must've overstepped my bounds too much too many times for this ire... Backtalk ain't what it's cut out to be, neither..." Gamzee pulls out a trio of his favourite juggling pins; he's capable of using almost any weapon, but juggling pins and bow-and-arrow are a few of his preferences.

She also knows he means to make it a slow, painful beating, rather than giving her the option of a quicker death; an arrow to the heart or brain.
"Don't strife for something so petty, little one... It's a damn shame." She lifts her axe and rests the bloodied blade over her shoulder, patting Karkat's shoulder with her free hand.

"He'd only regret it when his thinkpan's back on straight... See? Red oculars. Can't see or think proper no more..." She'd point, but she doesn't feel she needs to; the change is obvious; as obvious as the sour scent of strife which greets Marvus once he emerges from the treeline.
He jogs around Gamzee, keeping the same berth as the other trolls -- until he's with Chahut and Karkat.

 

"Phat Kat," he winks, coming to a stop, "you wouldn't mind pacifyin' that ragin' troll what's makin' his way over here, would you?" Freshly clean, his own scent is mildly sweet; Marvus doesn't feel the need to hold onto his composure. He acts as if Karkat could just stroll up to an Indigoblood and deal with them.

"Not like I get the whole story, but I have myself some hella prefs on who gets culled. Sister Cha-Cha got her some good vibes. Be a da-amn shame if somethin' happened to her." Chahut looks uncomfortable, and isn't nearly as smooth as Marvus.

"Just a strife, Brother..." She offers up a weak explanation, walking off slowly to try to meet Gamzee before the other Indigoblood can reach them.

 

*

 

Karkat hisses at Gamzee's back as he goes, frustration growing at how unreasonable he seemed intent on being. Yeah, alright, Gamzee asked for Karkat, and he's got him, doesn't he?? Isn't Karkat here? (Did...Didn't he try and allow him to get his hands, mouth and bulge where no one else has had the privilege??) From the way things sound, they mean to strife until at least one of them is bloody-- maybe even worse. Chahut may be serene in an unsettling way but she's grown on Karkat enough that he'd rather she not die.

He frowns seeing the sickly look on her face like she's actually done something grave, which to him she hasn't. Eyes widening a hair at her words; did he come off as ashen? Ash felt pretty needed, true but really Karkat just wanted to put a stop to their fight. Feeling worse since seeing Gamzee turn back around with three clubs in tow.

 

Karkat makes a half snort, half snarl, "Only one being petty is the overgrown wriggler, " but he can see what she means, how Gamzee's eyes had gone from yellow-orange to as red as Karkat bleeds, obviously enraged. Marvus rejoins them while avoiding Gamzee, even he can feel the change in the air, calling out to Karkat like they're already great friends. He'd laugh if not for the situation, that Marvus thought Karkat had such a skill. "How? You think I can just run up and pap him down just like that?" That'd be absolutely helpful if he could, he wouldn't lie. But he can agree on that, he'd hate for something to happen to her; it's clear she's not raring to have a strife either.

 

Gamzee wouldn't...strike him if he tried to do that, would he? Fighting unreasonable with stubbornness like he's good for doesn't seem the way to go. Kanaya had been in a rage once, Karkat had gotten back from his chores in time to see her ready to literally rip into a, albeit rude, customer with a rather grisly, rusty serrated saw. Her eyes had been like that and she herself had almost struck Karkat when he tried to get in the way, scared him to tears though that and his hands on her face got her rational enough, even through hiccups and bleary eyes.

"....Should I try?" Chahut is already a few paces ahead. Karkat finally shucks off the dumb wedding heels, picks up the undershirt to stuff into his satchel and tightens the strap of the shoes Gamzee had brought out. Taking a heavy breath before following after Chahut, following some compulsion in his head that seems to get more prominent, steps turning brisk, turning to a jog, until he's passed her and about to meet Gamzee first. Speeding into a sprint as he means to tackle into him, despite his size-- at least get him to stop and listen to sense.

 

*

 

"Worse fates than death, my sick-nasty bitch." Marvus speaks like he knows something, like he has any handle on the situation at all -- and murmurs to himself as Karkat throws himself at Gamzee.
The highblood isn't thrown back, but he does stop, taking Karkat's weight with a quiet grunt.

Chahut, who'd been in the process of raising her axe, allows the bladed end to return to her shoulder.

"Foolishness." She mumbles, glancing over her shoulder to Marvus.

 

Gamzee's gaze flickers down to Karkat, and he reaches around the mutant to gently thump him on the back with the butt of a club. It's not an attack -- he's careful, gentle -- but perhaps a question to move, a question of why Karkat's decided to get between them.

"What you doing?" The clubs aren't light, solid and weighty despite their looks; he could probably nail Chahut with one before they get in range of one another, but the older troll has stopped.
Gamzee chitters irritably, continuing to prod at Karkat.

"Get off." Despite his demands, Gamzee's not using enough force to dislodge Karkat -- when he knows full well he could pick up the mutant, punt the mutant, or knock him upside the head.

"I need to show that uppity bitch what comes to her." His lips peel back into a snarl, revealing an impressive pair of sharp fangs.

 

Chahut's ambled her way over to Marvus, refusing to meet Gamzee's gaze.

"You'll get the little one culled by his own mate." She muses.

"I'll pull on some worrywort trousers if our lil' Phat Kat's clade was all for show. Pale-in-training, you feel me?" He rumbles with amusement, combing his fingers through his own hair, untangling knots.

"The little one would have words with you." Chahut can't bring herself to really scold Marvus; she's sure Karkat or Gamzee will get down his throat about it later.
If there is anything after this, that is.

 

*

 

He's....actually done it. What is he doing? Karkat ran right on up to Gamzee and luckily he isn't, well, unlucky to the point of being a scarlet smear on Gamzee's clubs nor a crumpled heap of troll on the ground. Well, Gamzee's been stopped but he's still clearly irate and very intent on getting to whack on Chahut. Karkat knows he can be easily moved aside, knows that if Gamzee had the inkling he could rip into him with just those fangs of his.

Meeting Gamzee's eyes, the sclera still rage-red while Karkat's own, unknown to him, have the slightest glimmer of purple over the red of his irises, just barely there even as they're put on him now, though, despite Gamzee's demands for him to get off, he isn't really trying that hard to shake Karkat off either; so Karkat tightens his arms around Gamzee's middle like he can't really be bothered to be shaken off.

"No, you don't," his voice is soft, almost a croon with a gentle, barely lulling chirp from his throat. Countering the gaze with his own pretty reds and long lashes, unworried about the club he's being prodded with and fisting delicate hands into Gamzee's shirt. "You really don't. Why? What did she do so wrong to you?" His hands are inching just a little higher and higher up his mate-to-be's shirt, either trying to bring Karkat up or Gamzee down, however it ends up working out. "Did you really want me to ride with you that much? Does it matter that much to you?"

 

*

 

Gamzee's brows furrow, his eyes thinning as if he doesn't quite understand the questions.

"Always treats me like a fresh wriggler," he mutters, slowly bending to Karkat's grip, "eager to get clade when there's no reason ." He grumbles, his prodding slowly stopping and he stoops to Karkat's level.
"If a bitch got it in her thick pan to ask , maybe I'd allow it. A motherfucker don't just take my mate and make suggestions when it ain't their place ." He bristles quietly at the thought, peering into Karkat's bright red eyes.

"It matters . What if Ampora shows his face? Some beast comes up on the caravan with ideas in its empty-ass nugbone? You're new to this lifestyle, and I don't know how much hurt you can take 'fore you expire. Don't wanna find out, neither, just 'cause we all pretending it's lackadaisical times." His sneer slowly dies, and his gaze lowers.
He stares at Karkat's lips because he can't meet the troll's eyes anymore.

 

"Ain't I allowed to want my mate without being called a fucking pupa ?" The tips of his ears flush, his sclera a bright, warning orange.

"You're the only thing what's really mine. Everyone so ready to get their hands on you, but they can't take you like they take food and clothes and elixir. If that makes me a wriggler, then every motherfucker in every village and Kingdom a goddamn wriggler -- all busy with who owns what." His anger sounds less pointed, more general.
After a moment, Gamzee chirrs quietly.

"Your stink's in my head." The mutant smells as good as last night, if not better. Gamzee can hardly find it in himself to resist Karkat.

 

"You don't wanna ride with me?"

 

*

 

His mate-to-be speaking sounds like success and Karkat might end up being a little prideful for it later when he can appreciate the moment. He's even gradually lowering down for Karkat, moving to his grasp until Karkat can better reach him, hands adjusting from the back of his shirt to the front. Thinking about it and how to word his words the faint purple more than ebbed away and out by now, Kanaya was his Chahut, an elder sister and caring in her own way, at the very least Karkat understands that feeling of being treated like a pupa, "Did you ever say anything? Or did you expect everyone to just know what you want? You need to communicate clearly like that sometimes, Gamzee."

"Nothing wrong if she or anyone else wants to borrow me for a chat or help with stuff, right? And I'm sure if you tell her and everyone else to ask she'd ask." At least no one can question how much Gamzee cares, thinking of most possibilities of what could happen to Karkat, making a small smile tilt on his lips. The highblood is low enough now that Karkat can smooth his hands up to his shoulders, inch just under his jaw. "Hey, I'm at least a little sturdy, you can give me that much credit."

The red is somewhat faded now, though still dangerously orange, for the most part that Karkat can tell it seems like Gamzee had calmed down some, considerably even. Claims that he has Karkat's scent stuck in his head and looks like he's sulking more than upset now, Karkat deciding to lightly tap his cheeks in a pap, cupping Gamzee's face. "Well, since you're asking me like that, I suppose I'm gonna."

 

*

 

"Easier said than done." The highblood murmurs childishly, sagging into Karkat's warm, soft palms.
His eyes flutter shut at the contact, his face heating up under the paint.

"You're too soft." Whether he means physically or emotionally, Gamzee never gets to extrapolate; the sound of tents being deconstructed has him tensing, snapping out of this trance.
Everyone, sans the twins and Kurloz (Gamzee knows that bastard is peeking at them from the corners of his vision), are making a point to mind their own business. Not look at them. As if Gamzee and Karkat were going to pile right on the dirt -- although, with the mutant cupping his face, they were already halfway there.

 

"C'mon," he grabs Karkat's wrists, and redirects the smaller troll to the rear caravan, "in there." He lifts Karkat, then calls over his shoulder.

"Barzum, Baizli!" He points to the caravan, moving off to scold Chahut and gather Karkat's belongings before they depart.
The twins jump, then eye each other before scrambling over and into the caravan; Barzum climbs on top of Baizli, and then pulls her brother up with a grunt.

This caravan holds a lot of their necessities; food, a few jugs of water for days where they rest far from a source, paints, and some of their most valuable trinkets and baubles.

Most are utterly useless, but they have managed to amass a nice stack of high-quality, leather-bound books; a gossamer gown in rich violet; a cerulean family crest laid carelessly to the side.
The twins look at Karkat, chirring between each other.

"Was that quadrants?" One - Baizli - asks.

"It looked like quadrants." Barzum doubles down, her ears flickering as she hears the low rumble of Gamzee and Chahut's voices in the distance.

"Chahut tells us about quadrants." Baizli continues.

"They seem messy." Barzum finishes his thought, their speech flowing seamlessly.
Warily, curiously, they stare at Karkat, holding hands as if the mutant had somehow changed.

 

*

 

It's usually not the greatest to tell someone that if they want to stop being treated like a pupa then they should stop acting like one; Gamzee is probably the most overgrown wriggler Karkat has met and it's proven by his calming, sulky attitude, head hanging more into his palms. He's sure there's a big wriggler pout to match too, not quite able to see his features past the facepaint.

The same time Karkat feels a rush of lukewarmth under his hands Gamzee seems to snap to attention, as if just realizing that they were still out in the open. Karkat also seems to realize what he was doing, that it felt like they were just missing a pile but also something else, like he's just walked out of a thick fog. Being tugged along by Gamzee to be lifted into the back of the rear caravan, the twins being called over-- no better watchmen than children, a thought interjects.

 

Gamzee's already gone off toward Chahut's caravan, though hopefully not to fight her anymore-- if he's over there Karkat hopes he grabs the gem pouches so they can be sorted out. Meanwhile, this caravan seems to hold more living necessities than a random assortment of stuff picked up from presumably raids. Taking interest in the stack of books and looking over it curiously until he overhears the twins talking in their tandem (notices their wary looks as if Karkat was new all over again).

"Yes, children, quadrants are very messy indeed..," Karkat sighs, going back to the books and spreading them out to see if he knows any of the titles, at least of the ones that are titled.

Notes:

I feel like our cooperation was fully meshed here. We didn't even plan any of this out and we were able to rebound well off of each other like sending the same brain cell back and forth, but you know, in a much smarter way. Like being in sync.

I loved how you introduced your version of your clowns and how their interpersonal relations worked, how the pecking order worked and un-worked.

To you, and to everyone else: Please be safe.

Chapter 8: Soft

Notes:

I think we both loved how we bounced off of each other, Karkat interacting with children, or at least with the twins. This built more onto some of my breeder troll headcanons in general, the affinity to be made and had between the two.

It was cute and definitely one of the more wholesome moments of this angsty, smutty degenerate rp, and so were any other times involving Karkat and kids. I felt like my rendition of the characters I could play met what was needed amazingly, or at least you helped me feel like it.

Not just in this one, but in the others.

"Hey!" They shout in tandem, irritation flaring in one while the other looks to the ground, growing despondent.

"Don't ignore us." Baizli mutters.

"Especially not for a moldy stack of books!" Barzum crosses her arms.

"We have a complicated secret, too." Baizli mumbles, dejectedly going to sit in a corner.

"Yeah! Even the Jades don't know what happened!" Barzum tries to sound like she's boasting, poorly masking her pain as she joins her twin.
The books range from essays held together with twine to old, leather-bound epics; most are Empire-mandated, but a battered, dusty tome sits among the books. No seal of approval. Nothing but a smeared sign: Cancer.
Evidently, none of the Indigos -- barring Kurloz -- read much. Most of these items have been stolen from communal bookhives, pilfered from personal bookhives, or bought off vendors for cheap.

 

Of course, there are also a few ridiculously raunchy erotica novels thrown in the pile.
Gamzee hops back into the tent, Karkat's satchel and various other belongings in tow; he even clasps the heels in one hand.

"Kurloz gonna keep working on that garment to get as much finery off it as is possible 'fore we hit the next town. Got the free gems, though. You -- what's up with you two?" Gamzee tosses the question casually to the twins, setting down Karkat's things.
"Your mate's ignoring us." Apparently, it's Barzum's turn to sound sad.

"All for those stupid books!" Baizli adds.

Gamzee offers up a shrug.

"Motherfucker likes those things. 'Member when I told you he's soft? Since he so soft, he can spend his time getting all smart, and not have to waste time on fighting." The highblood crouches down beside Karkat, watching the mutant with curious eyes.

"You gonna pick up one? Ain't like we use 'em for much. Gotta wait for the right trades and all that."

 

*

 

"I'm not ignoring you-- I thought you two were ignoring me!" Karkat throws back, though getting a little worried when both Barzum and Baizli move to sit in the corner. Did they really want him to talk to them that much? Tonight he was just putting people out of sorts, wasn't he?

 

Gamzee jumps in the caravan, Karkat's stuff in his arms until it's all set down and he's sitting next to Karkat. Asking the twins who are very much sulking what was up, only for their answer to get him to gripe again, "I told you I wasn't!" Perhaps there's a bit of a whine to his voice, but really, they're being a fine example of unclear communication, "Are you both gonna be upset with me now?? Okay then, I'll just sit here and be bored with these stupid books." Karkat manages a false, very exaggerated sigh, looking absolutely woeful as he sorts out the books, hoping to get the twins at least out of the corner.

He makes a complete show of not wanting to read any of them (because he really does, especially the ones that look especially randy), making stacks that if pushed together look like a small fort. There are scholarly works and studies that are carefully arranged from the sturdiest to the ones that are just pieces of paper, and thicker fictional tomes along with one that suspiciously looks like a scam titled 'Magicks & You!'. An old, dusty book sits with no title anywhere, plain black binding and a faded, smeared off sign that looks a little familiar...

"Hey, Gamzee," Karkat holds the tome in his lap, inspecting over the sign, "How'd you get this thing? The sign on it looks like my village's..," Karkat knows what signsakes are, Kanaya has hers, and for the sake of custom, like with most hatchling grubs or freshly pupated wrigglers who didn't know their sign yet, the village head gave Karkat his, tailed circles encircling each other. ".....Can I keep this one? That really looks like it's from my village.."

 

*

 

"Hmm?" Gamzee leans over, glancing at the near-featureless cover.

"No can do. That's been with The Grand Highblood and all his direct descendants since... Well, the older motherfucker says he got it way back when he was just an adult. Maybe Chahut's age." A clawed finger scrapes over the sign.

"You can read it, like you can get your read on with anything, but -- well, we share most shit. How you live in villages, all saying what's whose, don't get on much 'round here. Like your strutpod coverings -- they only yours 'cause they was Karako's, and they was only Karako's 'cause Kurloz made 'em. So," he leans his head in his hand, bare feet patting against the ground, "guess that'd make Kurloz the owner of 'em if we was following rules." Gamzee's just hazarding a guess, really.

He'd read the tome himself, back when he'd been a pupa, and he doesn't really know why it's here.
It's clearly written from the perspective of a grieving troll, vilifying all highbloods while mourning her deceased lover.

When he'd questioned The Grand Highblood on the validity of the text, he'd merely gotten laughter in response, and a command to leave -- because Chahut had been leaving, and, back then, he was always just a few steps behind her.

"Wouldn't recommend it for a read, but it ain't no skin off my back if you wanna read that, or some thesis on voidrot we nabbed off a Navy." He slumps fully onto his back, folding his arms behind his head.

"Got this Rusty with some real big globes. Gonna show us some Navy mansions if we got her some shit on voidrot -- which's hilarious, 'cause it's probably just gibberish. Navies ain't got a clue on what they writing."
He pats the mutant's back.

"Don't worry 'bout the twins. They get like that. Probably just wanna play. Awful lonely being a Purple pupa, you feel me?" Their definition of 'play' is wildly different than most trolls', but still; they can't even get away with using their chucklevoodoos.

 

*

 

Karkat pouts though it's not genuine, he doesn't really feel put out by not getting to keep the tome, but......

He can't put his finger on it, there's another, different kind of compulsion in his head that says the book is not where it belongs.

....But what was there to do about that? It has his sign-- his village's --on it, true, but it must be by some strange coincidence, being that it belongs to someone so ancient. Opening it up, the thing is all written in faded olive, the pages almost fragile to turn. Gamzee isn't going to bar him from reading it, and with the sign on the book Karkat's very curious to know what it contains.

"Alright...," Gamzee explains how no one in their troupe really owns something-- except for his claim earlier, 'You're the only thing what's really mine', which Karkat tries not to think about otherwise he'll be blushing bright candy red --, and even the shoes Karkat's using now, though it seems to make Gamzee uncomfortable to say it, had once belonged to Kurloz as the maker.

Karkat squints at the word 'voidrot', sure he's heard the term somewhere else before (didn't that have something to do with Goldbloods?), wondering why a Burgundy would want those and then why they'd be showing the troupe Navy mansions-- "You mean she'll show you some mansions to raid, right?" That makes more sense now that he's said it.

 

He glances over at the twins, even if Gamzee says not to worry about them Karkat still feels bad. Thinking quietly for a few moments before choosing his words carefully-- he probably can't play their usual games if the night before was any indication, but he can try something else. "Well, if they wanna play, I've got an old village game to teach them," Karkat flicks his eyes up for a moment, just to see if he's got their attention, before looking back down to the book, carefully closing it and pretending to study the cover and spine. "It needs two people, it's best with two people-- oh, but maybe Barzum and Baizli already know how to play...," Karkat hums. 'Slide' was a pretty popular clap game for the children in his village, even when Karkat was still a pupa; the twins didn't grow up in a village, but Karkat wonders the chances of them having learned it already.

 

*

 

Baizli perks up, while Barzum slumps.

"If it's something like conceal and pursue , then it won't be any fun." She mutters, swinging her short legs.

"We like games with three or more people, because we don't know what they think about." Baizli adds, hopping off the chest he'd sat on with his twin.

 

Gamzee sits up, leaning to murmur into Karkat's ear.

"I read this," he taps the tome, knowing Kurloz has read it far more than he has, "'cause it taught me why us clowns don't live like you. That's what The Grand Highblood got his say on. Kurloz probably got more nuanced opinions, but I wouldn't get him started." With that, Gamzee gets to his feet, and disappears into the front of the caravan.

"Check you later, Karbro."
They start off with a lurch, a tower of papers and novels spilling.

Baizli makes his way over to Karkat, ears twitching.

"Two-troll games get boring when you know what the other troll's feeling and thinking." Barzum pipes up, slumping off the chest.

"That's why we can't prank each other!" Baizli's grey eyes glint.

"We can't even use chucklevoodoos on the others, even though we're really good at them -- everyone says so." Barzum plops beside Karkat, and Baizli joins the other side of the mutant.

"So, what's the game?" He asks, raising a pointed brow; if one looks close, that appears to be the only difference; Barzum's brows are softer, while Baizli's brows sport a sharper curve.

 

*

 

"I don't think we can even play that in here," the caravan doesn't really have much in the way of hiding spots, Karkat thinks. "If that's the case, then you two might be really good at it, since it needs the players to be in sync, " Karkat gives them a small smile with a knowing look, "I think..that the both of you might even be better at it than I am."

Gamzee comes back up, first to whisper to him why he's read the tome, and then that it's been read by Kurloz and The Grand Highblood, though not without a 'read-between-the-lines' that's basically 'don't ask Kurloz'. He's up and heading to the front of the caravan soon, leaving Karkat with the twins and a toppled stack; hopefully, he can manage to keep them and himself settled and too busy for trouble.

 

Attention back on Barzum and Baizli, Karkat smiles again, little more than pleased that they've come out of the corner as they sit on either side of him. "Well, still no chucklevoodoos, all you need is your hands." He sits up straighter, scooting back just a little to have the twins face each other. "I'm gonna teach you something called 'Slide', so for now face each other."

Karkat instructs them how to start, how to do the basic rhythm for the first round, "Now after you finish the first set, you start again but add another clap, so now you're doing two for each movement instead of just one. You keep adding up and up and see how high up you can go. When I was really good at it, my best was twenty."

For a young Karkat, reaching that high was a grand accomplishment that he excitedly ran home to tell Kanaya about, as well as anyone else on the way who'd listen. "Maybe if you can get up to ten.....how about we get the both of you a treat from the market? And if you can get up to twenty...well, we'll have to think of something special for the both of you, yeah?"

 

*

 

The twins turn to face one another, stricken by the novelty of the game.
Their first few tries are stumbles; the back of a hand hitting a palm, a slapped wrist. It doesn't take them long, however, to build up a rhythm; they stare at one another while the clap of their hands fills the caravan.

When they reach a plateau of fourteen, they stop suddenly, sharing in the knowledge of where this goes.
"It's a fine game." Barzum says, wondering if they could spice it up by slapping one another as hard as possible.

"We could go until our arms get tired, you know?" Baizli adds, his fingertips a dull purple.

"This is why we don't like two-player games. I know what he's going to do, and he knows what I'm going to do; as soon as we stop fighting, it just feels like..." Barzum claps to demonstrate.

"Why don't you play it with one of us? You're not us." Baizli suggests, and Barzum immediately turns her gaze on Karkat.

"You pick who goes first, too, because we're also bad at that. Baizli wants to go first, and I want to go first, and games of 'boulder, parchment, shears' are the most boring things in the world. They don't decide anything ." Barzum tries to look eager, and it doesn't take much -- although the twins aren't connected to the other Indigobloods as much as they are each other, they can still feel their minds.
They know Karako spends his days in a trance; that Marvus is subtle as a snake with his suggestions and predictions; that Kurloz is like an unpleasant white noise.

With Karkat, they haven't tried to connect whatsoever; they don't think it's possible.
Not with any reciprocation, anyway.

It's rare that they find someone unpredictable, and Baizli looks just as eager as his twin.

"I wonder who can get more than twenty with Karkat." He muses, holding his head in his hands.

"Me, because I'm going to be picked first, then you're going to be picked, and I'll pass twenty turns after you fail." They both giggle, but still wait for Karkat's decision; it's an exciting deviation from routine.

 

*

 

It doesn't take them long to get the hang of it. Sure, they fumble but Barzum and Baizli pick up pretty sharply on their rhythm and it only takes them a second set to reach ten, Karkat watching with a smidgen of pride. Another go has them on their way to twenty, but they end up stopping with a sort of deflation, Karkat becoming worried that they've already gotten bored.

That turns out not to be the case, rather that they're bored of knowing the other so well they already know what will happen. "You want me to play?" And they want him to pick who's going first, another dilemma. "Well, since you're asking, I'll try. I haven't played in a while, so try to be easy on me." First things first, is figuring who to pick first. Karkat doesn't want it to look like he favors one over the other, most pupae tend to feel bitter about that.
"Gimme a sec..," he murmurs, looking over the inside of the caravan. Shifting around a little and-- the scam book has that little extra compartment and if it hasn't been looked through then there's a--

"Got it!" Karkat exclaims, plucking out the fake wand and bringing it in front of himself. "You ever hear of a divining rod? Even a fake wand is good for something like that," he says as he rolls the glorified stick between his palms. As a wriggler, this was the way to make a decision. Of course, Karkat's learned that some decisions are better made with his own head and, that if there was a choice and he chose not to choose, a choice would be made for him, and usually not for the better.

"Alright, I'm going to drop it and whoever it's pointing more towards, then that's who goes first, got it?" Karkat scrunches his eyes shut and rolls the stick like a spinner toy before letting it drop straight down. The stick bounces once and half, clattering to a stop and rolling slightly; Karkat's pretty sure he can kind of tell them apart, at least for right now. Barzum is the one who was boasting how she'd win, the shape of her brow softer than her brother's, which becomes more apparent when they're side by side; Baizli's arch a little sharply and seems a mite calmer than his sister, for right now anyway.

It's Baizli the stick is pointing toward.

 

*

 

Although the stick points to her brother, Barzum has less complaints than she thought she would -- mainly because she has no control over either the stick or Karkat.

Baizli, on the other hand, squirms while a fit of giggles overtakes him.

"Who's going to win now?" He asks her, and she holds a weak glare for all of two seconds before joining her brother in his laughter.

"Still me! You have all the coordination of an overturned grub." She teases, scooting away to let Baizli get in front of Karkat.
The young troll moves aside the stick, then holds out his hands.
His hands are small and cool, a glove on his right hand mirroring the left-hand glove his sister wears. He only thinks about taking it off for a scant second, while Barzum glances at her own.

"Don't worry! We know not to play our usual games with you." Baizli reassures Karkat.
Despite the young troll's good sense of rhythm, his quick reflexes, it's different to play with someone who can do whatever they want. He doesn't know what type of pattern Karkat wants -- and it's odd for Barzum, who feels the wells of her palms tingle.

They make it to six rounds before Baizli messes up, and Barzum hops up with a chirp.

"My turn!" They switch places, and Barzum has an easier time of initially keeping up with Karkat -- but it's still difficult, still fun. When they nearly get to ten, and she stumbles, she shrieks and rocks onto her back.

"No! We were almost there!" Baizli laughs, opting to lie on the floor with his twin until they both sit up, and Barzum scurries off.

"I know what you were doing." Baizli calls, while Barzum hides her smile behind her hands.
This time, they reach ten -- almost pass twelve -- and both pupae dissolve into chirping and squealing.

"We get treats!" They chant in unison, looking like they want to throw themselves at Karkat, but having the mind that Gamzee would not enjoy coming back to find his mate injured.

"Is that pretty dress really worth that much, though?" They settle down, Barzum leaning in to ask the question with raised brow.

"It's not pretty , it's gaudy !" Baizli corrects her.

"The skirt's pretty!" Barzum retorts, pointing up to the gossamer dress hanging off the caravan wall, "Like that, except that one has no jewels."

 

*

 

Internally relieved that no one's too upset over his method, Karkat grins at the twins' enthusiasm, bantering back and forth as Baizli settles in front of him. Baizli assures him that they won't play their usual ways with him, and if that means Karkat won't end up like the Lusus from last night then that's extra fine with him.

His hands are still wriggler small, cool like Gamzee's and Karkat supposes it'll be the same for Barzum (hopes that the heat from his skin doesn't burn them). Looking over them both shows that they still have some grubfat in their features, adding to their youth and newness; the kind of cute that looks innocent enough but gets away with a lot of stuff.

They start a round and Karkat tries to keep at an easy, constant tempo-- that's the real trick of the game, not getting too caught up in the clapping that one accidentally speeds up, nor going a beat too slow that it throws the round off. It's easy for him, muscle memory recalling how this game is played, keeping a good rhythm with Baizli until somewhere in sixth a hand mis-claps and Barzum claims her turn (Karkat surprised but pleased that he's still got enough skill to not mess up before ten). She picks up on Karkat's rhythm quite easily, keeping up and looking giddy for it. They've almost finished the ninth when Barzum misses part of the pattern, Karkat exclaiming with her, "Almost, almost!" while Baizli comes to sit in front of him again.

 

It's been a while since he's had fun doing something so simple, the tips and surface of his fingers and palms reddening from the game. They reach ten this time, Karkat encouraging Baizli to keep going though the excitement does end up hindering their twelfth. The twins are absolutely gleeful, peals of giggles and laughter erupting from them at having won their prize.

They sit close to him again and Karkat has a hand on their respective backs with congratulations on a good game, "Good job! You both did so well-- I said you'd be good at it, didn't I?" Things start to calm a little, Barzum asking about the dress. "Even if we take all the gems off, it'll still sell for a pretty caeger." At least Ampora didn't skimp on the dress material, all that silk and tulle will cash in for a decent amount. Baizli makes him laugh, because it's the truth, the dress is gaudy as all get out, while Barzum seems to want to give it the benefit of the doubt. Looking up at the gossamer, gauzy dress hanging on the wall, Karkat's curiosity perks up, "How did that one get here? Looks pretty Violet...."

 

*

 

Barzum giggles, scooting closer to Karkat.

"So! So! A Violetblood held this huge banquet with everyone invited -- if you could get a ticket -- and Marvus got his ticket hand-delivered." Her feet lightly pat the floor in excitement.

" So , everyone travelled to this huge palace -- big enough to fit thousands of trolls," Baizli almost can't imagine it himself, throwing out his arms to convey the scope, "and started a massacre worthy of the banquet!"

"The hostess wasn't too happy about our arrival, so Kurloz took her head, and everyone grabbed all the shiny valuables they could before leaving." Barzum finishes, sitting on her own hands.
"It happened before we were hatched." Baizli adds on a quieter note.

"Yeah, so it might be fake, but I don't think it is. We don't like to lie to each other! Besides, everyone tells it the same way; Karako was just a pupa so he was left behind, Chahut and Marvus did a lot of the culling, and Kurloz took Gamzee to deal with the angry Violetbloods." Barzum amends Baizli's statement, glancing at the old dress.

"They still don't let us go on raids with them. Everyone says next sweep we can join them, even though Gamzee was still a pupa when he started raiding." Baizli pouts.
His sister shushes him with a warning click.

" He's part of The Grand Highblood. It's different . He has to be tough and live a long, long life."
Baizli hums in agreement, and a short silence falls -- but the twins are nothing if not happy to have a third party around.
Her brother pipes up, scooting until his hip touches Karkat's own. He's momentarily surprised at how soft the troll is, and Barzum cuddles up as well, the exact same surprise showing on her features.

Once that abates, however, they whisper to Karkat.

"Wanna know why Kurloz got disposed?" Barzum starts.

"It's deposed ." Baizli corrects.

"His blood is slightly too bright!" Barzum shares this like a juicy piece of gossip -- which, for them, it is.

"If you see Kurloz and Gamzee bleed, Gamzee's more Indigo, and Kurloz is more Violet. Everyone says that makes Gamzee more righteous than Kurloz." Baizli tacks on, in no hurry to move from Karkat's soft, warm side.

"He's still one of us!" Barzum is quick to reassure Karkat, just as others had reassured them the first time they'd seen Kurloz bleed.

"Gamzee's just closer to The Grand Highblood." Baizli finishes, and they glance eagerly up into Karkat's eyes.

 

*

 

Karkat shouldn't be surprised anymore at this point, that the story behind the dress is particularly bloody. He keeps an even, interested face, despite the details of gore, hearing that this is from before the twins had hatched; why keep the dress for so long? Even so, it's amusing to see their imagination conveyed in their delight, "Must have been a clean-cut, there's no blood on the dress..," unless it's on the back, or time has already faded the blood into one color with the dress.

"Huh, I wouldn't let you either," Karkat half-snorts, pursing his lips to an exaggerated moue, "You should at least grow a little taller than me before wanting to try something like that." Sure, they may have taken on a Lusus that was bigger than them, but to Karkat they're still pupae, and maybe it's some part of breeder maternal instinct-- or how he's used to the ways of his village rearing wrigglers, Lusus or not --but he'd rather they stay close to him-- er, to the safety of the other adults (they've obviously grown on him too).

The twins huddle in close so that they're all side by side, just for a moment feeling like they're about to burrow into him, coolness trading places with warmth. And then it's back to hushed words, the topic turning on Kurloz, surprisingly. Gamzee had mentioned something like that, hadn't he? When he said Karkat should have been Kurloz's mate but the elder didn't have the want; did this have to do with that?

 

Karkat puts his hand up to his mouth, for the sake of gossiping if nothing else, looking between the twins as they tell him such a secret. "Really? Just for that?" Children may exaggerate but they never outright lie, only repeat things that they've heard in the way they understood it. One caste being so close in hue to their others isn't unheard of, and usually the brighter to the next highest, the better for most trolls-- well, at least in some cases. Though, Karkat wonders if that has anything to do with why Gamzee disliked Kurloz so much-- or even if it had anything to do with it at all. Karkat isn't all that worried about Kurloz still being part of the troupe, but he returns the assurance, "Of course he is, he came from The Grand Highblood too, didn't he? Just a different hue is all. But..," Karkat leans in a little closer, whispering even quieter than they all had just been (maybe the quietest he's been in his life), "..is that why Gamzee doesn't seem to like him? That can't be the only thing, right?"

 

*

 

Barzum leans in close, while Baizli leans back, and crosses his legs.
"Well... I think, maybe, it's normal for The Grand Highblood's descendant to kill other descendants?" Barzum puffs out her cheeks, stopping just for Baizli to pick up the thought.

"Chahut always says they found Gamzee hiding in the fur of a dead Lusus on the beach. More pupa than us!"

"We were found in a locked hive, by the way!" Barzum interrupts with a trill, flopping onto her back, "we don't remember getting there, and we thought we were going to die." Her small feet pat the floor.

"Anyway, Kurloz was there, and he was older. No one would've stopped him from culling Gamzee. But... he didn't." Baizli joins his sister, and the two of them reach up, gingerly tugging on Karkat's shift.
"Anyway," they tug Karkat down between them, "if that's how it's supposed to be, then it's blasphemous of Kurloz to have let Gamzee live." Barzum concludes.

" Weak , too." Baizli can't help but add.

The caravan comes to a slow stop, felt thoroughly through the flooring.

"Ooh, we're here!" The twins' feet hit the floor in sync, only stopping when Gamzee emerges into the back of the caravan.
It's a shock to equate the small pupae with what they'll one day grow to become; Barzum hates to think she'll grow differently than Baizli, and Baizli hates to think he'll grow differently than Barzum.

For a solid while, Gamzee just stares at the three trolls.

"My mate your new Lusus?" He asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"He's soft !" Barzum bursts out.

"And warm !" Baizli adds, sitting up with a wicked grin.
"Real soft and warm and -- " Gamzee's interrupted by Barzum.

"Karkat showed us a game called 'Slides'! It's fun!"

"And," Baizli gets to his feet, "since we got to ten, Karkat said we get a treat." Barzum joins her twin, and three hands are extended to Karkat; Barzum's, Baizli's, and Gamzee's.

Gamzee pulls his hand back, knows it'd mean more for the twins in this moment if they were the ones to help Karkat get up.
Instead, he pats his hands off on his harem pants, as if they were dirty.

"A'ight, first , Karkat and I're gonna go sell them gems to whatever Blueblood's the greediest. Then , once we got all the caegars, we'll split 'em. Speaking of that," he pats both twins between the horns, "y'know the drill. Go get in your Cerulean tunics." After helping Karkat up, the twins nod, and hastily depart from the caravan.

Gamzee allows a smile to capture his features, a chuckle escaping his lips.

"The twins keep you busy? Lil' hellions. Anyway," he gestures to Karkat's pile of things, "you're gonna be Olive, I'm gonna try to pass for Navy, the twins'll be Cerulean, and Karako's gonna come in as a Jade. Everyone else too, uh, obviously Purple." Gamzee doesn't sound thrilled about the idea of disguising himself as a Navy -- less so because it's illegal and more so because it's just annoying.

He'll have to take off his paint, and walk around looking utterly foolish for the better part of the night -- but he'll be able to walk beside Karkat without the vendors refusing him service.

"You wanna change? I'll look away, promise." He purrs.

"Wouldn't have time to do nothing, anyway. Not 'fore someone came looking for us."

 

*

 

That was normal?? Karkat can't quite agree with the idea-- there was a pair of siblings in his village, born to another, older breeder troll (one or two are usually seen in a small communal area like his village, but they were home to five, including Karkat), the Nitram brothers, Rufioh had been born first, was older than Karkat while the younger had been closer to Karkat's age (both were deemed the village's Eyecandy and both at some point had been Karkat's red crushes). Breeder-born or not, caverns or not, it'd be appalling for two grubs of the same descent and sign to fight over it, cull the other.

He can't imagine it, really. Though, Karkat can't say he agrees or disagrees either, with Kurloz being weak for not culling Gamzee. That aside, he ends up being pulled on the floor too, Barzum and Baizli on either side of him as they tug him down. Even though they say such a thing, Karkat wonders if they prefer Gamzee over Kurloz (if they get that Gamzee's only here because Kurloz didn't cull him).
Speaking of, the caravan comes to a gradual stop, the sound and feeling coming up through the floor as they slow. Gamzee enters from the frontside, musing to the twins about Karkat being their new Lusus, though hearing it out loud gets his cheeks to dust hah, but didn't he feel like it just moments ago?? He even almost says 'Yes, they're mine now.'. They exclaim and excitedly talk over Gamzee about Karkat being soft and warm, about the new game they learned and the treat they've earned themselves.

 

Both have hands out to help Karkat up and he takes them, the twins evidently stronger than they look as Karkat is hoisted to standing before they bound off to change clothes. "More like they kept me busy, I completely forgot about sorting the gems out," Karkat sighs, though it's half-hearted, not really put out. Gamzee explains the rundown of who all is going into the market, while also sounding unenthused about going out as Navy, rather, Karkat thinks it's going without his paint, since Navies don't engage in such a thing.

"Yeah, I'll get changed--," Karkat purses his lips, only making half a scowl at Gamzee and clicking both in his throat and his tongue in response to that purr, "Hey, don't give me reasons not to ride with you anymore. That sounds like you wanted to do something," he chides, though Karkat isn't even sure if he means it, unfolding the trousers from Karako. "Turn around then, so I can take this off," Karkat lilts as he tugs the shift up.

 

*

 

"You are soft and warm, Karkat." He spins on his heels, facing away from the mutant.

"Can't blame a motherfucker for wanting to get his hold all up on you in all senses. Been awful lonely up front, too." He coos, waiting for Karkat to change.

Once the mutant has changed, Gamzee plucks out a cloth, and carefully removes all traces of his paint; from the smears of white on his neck to the small dark dots on his temples. He parts his lips are does away with the last of his paint, leaving behind a clear face; black lips and grey skin.

He tosses the rag aside, and shamelessly shucks off his clothes.
All traces of what they'd done the previous day have vanished, his bulge sheathed, his nook nothing more than an inoffensive slit between long legs.

"Nice that the twins seem to like you." He muses, pulling on a pair of tight, black trousers. Gamzee hates the fit, but it's what he's noticed to be in fashion for Navybloods.

"Whatever their Lusus was, we never laid our ocular globes on it. Found 'em half-dead in some Hive in the middle of motherfucking nowhere. Sister Chahut tries to set a good example for 'em, but she ain't been a pupa for a long-ass time." He throws on a linen smock, then a Navy tunic; belts it, and finishes the outfit with a pair of shoes.

While gathering and tying his hair back -- most Navies seem to either have straight hair, or tie their hair back -- Gamzee ambles over to Karkat.

"Stay by me while bartering. Bluebloods're the worst . Well, outside of seadwellers." With his outfit put on, hair tied back, and clean face, Gamzee looks like a gangly Navy in that awkward phase between growth and filling-out.

"If a brother's strutpods get tired, I'll carry him. On my back, so motherfuckers don't think we getting all pale in public -- though..." Gamzee stops, opens and closes his mouth a few times before settling on what he wants to say.

"Thanks... for calming me down. Wish we could've piled proper, but that's just how it be, sometimes. Maybe later?" His brows raise, the question posed hopefully.

Piling with Karkat sounds just about as good as pailing with Karkat -- as long as he's careful of his horns.

 

*

 

He'll be honest, Gamzee's charming and good at it when he wants to be, even if he's hinting at 'horny', Karkat's cheeks well-dusted with red. Grabbing the shirt out of his bag while Gamzee's back is turned, Karkat lifts the shift all the way over his head, the sound of cloth and fabric rustling as it drops, pulling the shirt on and the trousers up; they're snug around his hips (understandably) and the legs need to be rolled up some, but otherwise fine. Kanaya might frown and try to nip and tuck things until he looked presentable, but she's not here to do that; living with Kanaya had always ensured he wore clothes that fit his body well, Ampora had ruined that for him.

Tucking the shirt in the front and letting it hang over his hips and backside, Karkat deems himself ready, now focusing on getting his bag together and trying to make some sense of the gem pouches as a way of decency while Gamzee changes..though, he's getting the idea Gamzee doesn't care as much as he does.

"Mm, they're a couple of sweet things," one of the elder trolls from his village, a blind, ancient Rusty who's lived so long her hair and parts of her skin even was turning Lusus white, used to say that phrase a lot, at least call everyone, even the head 'sweet thing' (the village held a funeral march for her when she passed, only a couple of perigees before Ampora sent his soldiers for Karkat). His brows knit together to hear more on how they were found (the twins had said they were lost in some abandoned hive yes, but nothing about their condition), how Chahut tries to do some good as an adult (because she cares, Karkat's seen, even about Gamzee).

 

Gamzee's just tying his hair back when he comes over to Karkat, passing actually pretty well for a young Navyblood well into their height and about to grow on their bulk. "Don't you look spiffy..," Karkat muses once he gets a good look at him; if no one looked too closely at his eyes or cut him open, Gamzee may as well be a valid blueblood.

Talk about pale in public, Karkat glances toward anywhere else in the caravan, trying not to think about earlier, focusing on his task with the gems. "N-No problem..," the red dust on his cheeks only darken at the question of later, "Yeah, later's....alright..," packing up and making sure he still has the jeweler's eye in his satchel before standing up. "L-let's get going, yeah?"

 

*

 

"Is a motherfucker saying I look good ?" Gamzee teases, hopping out of the caravan.

"I'll take what I can get." His hands settle on the mutant's waist, lifting him to then settle him on the ground.
The twins wear identical thick overcoats with a blue gown beneath; neither are old enough to be 'breeched', although both wear the same loose style of pants most Indigobloods seem to favour.

Karako's covering as much skin as possible, with a loose gown concealing the jade material underneath.
They all look the part of their various false castes; these garments have, obviously, been stolen. Altered to their sizes.

Chahut's outside, watching the troupe as they gather and head off.

 

It's a bit of a walk but, once past the city walls, the roads become well-worn; the bustle of urban life sweeping over them.

Gamzee sticks himself to Karkat's side, while Karako and the twins stay within sight.

Vendors and shops line the main street, and they pass a few bluebloods before Gamzee gently nudges Karkat, and trills.

"See that Blueblood over there?" The troll has a greedy glint in their eye -- singular -- and has a confidence about them.

"Might be they'll buy our gems." He murmurs.

 

Of course, there are plenty of other prospects -- but, more than that, Gamzee wants to see Karkat barter.
Even if he were truly an Oliveblood, he shouldn't really have the guts to stand up against a Blueblood. Gamzee could push him to the ground right now and, while some of the lower castes might take a glance, no one would come to help him.

That isn't even considering Karkat's not on the hemospectrum whatsoever.
"I'll follow your lead, brother." He leans down to whisper this, then straightens; taking on the airs of a prudish, proper Navyblood.

Chapter 9: Conflict

Notes:

The market had been fantastic, but the trouble came from after.

This part had been a little bumpy, I think we both know. I wasn't really too sure of where I was going with my characters and how they interacted, and in the end had resulted in some Bad Times™. Mildly but still not great. Made lots of angsty high-tension and was the start of everything turning negatively.

Of course we worked through it, made compromises and put in the effort to make it work.

Not our best of moments, but if you remember I told you how brilliant you were to force these situations, that this was the most I'd cried over an RP

Karkat opts for keeping his lips sealed shut, getting lifted out of the caravan. Once he's on the ground he musses his hair a little, enough to bring more of it in front of his eyes, make it more difficult for someone to see the scarlet in them; as far as he knows, he's the only red mutie, now somewhat known due to his crashed wedding. If Ampora was looking for him, his most easily defining feature would be anything to do with red .

Everyone who's going is ready with their false caste, Karkat glancing at their little group-- it's a little scary how well Karako fits his Jade attire, if he just puts his hands together in front of him he'd look a little like the portrait Kanaya has in her room. If the twins looked more Cerulean sinister rather than adorably excited they'd pass perfectly, but then again, no one should be paying too much attention to pupae (not because Karkat's mentally adopted them it's absolutely because Karkat's mentally adopted them).

Thankfully, the shoes he's borrowing are much better for walking than the heels, seeing how the road becomes more and more worn, traveled over, even more so as they pass the gates. Karkat didn't get to see much of the city where Ampora's castle resided, being locked up, and he thought before he'd never seen so many people in one place. It's so busy , like if he were to take a wrong step he'd get carried away by the moving crowd, or even squished-- with his non-height and too soft body? It's more likely than you think.

Gamzee trills at him, tearing Karkat away from watching every which way to see what was up with a humming chirr. A Ceruleanblood is pointed out to him, one multi-pupiled eye while the other has nothing but blank sclera. They're already looking at something, but the glint in their eye says that they need something more than what the current vendor they're looking at is offering. Bartering in a shop, a controlled environment, is much different than trying to barter here, it's obvious. Here, Karkat has to rely on himself.

"Alright..," Karkat readies a gem pouch and a few of their best-looking stones that he'd plucked earlier, fixing the eyepiece to his head and taking a step toward the Cerulean. Thinking quickly so it won't look like he singled them out, Karkat clears his throat and begins advertising with his loudness, "Gems! Violet-cut gems! Perfect for quadrant and courting gifts!" He shouts, just loud enough that his voice is heard over the crowd, strolling toward the picked out troll. "Hey, you there! You look like a troll who needs some gemstones!!"

 

*

 

Gamzee wants to bristle when Karkat begins shouting -- even though that just makes him fit in with the other vendors -- but settles for passively standing beside his mate. An idle threat.

That doesn't stop the Blueblood, however, who eyes them before sauntering over.
"Do I?" She speaks in a high falsetto, laced with all the sarcastic malice Gamzee's come to expect from Bluebloods.

"I don't have time for quadrants and courting. I'm an artiste ." She's obviously talking down to Karkat, as if her heavy bag of paints and brushes wouldn't give away her profession.

"How would a middlebloode like you come across Violette-cut gemstones, anyway?" Her eyes narrow.
Gamzee interrupts her before she can get too good a look at his mate.

"They're mine." The Indigoblood drops his odd intonations, speaking in a calm, collected manner. Even his gestures are methodical and controlled.

"My palemate has been wanting to try their hand at 'bartering'," he allows something like distaste to furrow his brows for the barest of seconds, "so I allowed them at my collection."
This has the Blueblood stopping, now sizing up Gamzee before her attention returns to Karkat.

"Alrighte, fine, show me what you have." She steps closer, out of the way of the deluge of trolls making their way through the streets.

"It had bettere be goode. Trading with anyone below Teale is usually a waste of time." She blows a lock of hair out of her face.

 

*

 

Karkat beams when Gamzee cuts in-- even though he's dying on the inside, hearing him speak like that. Keeping a poker face like nobody's business as Gamzee puts on the airs of a Navy, halting the Cerulean's questions and letting Karkat bring out one of the bigger pieces of adamantine to show off. "How benevolent of you, Miss!" Karkat really puts it on thick between acting gracious and fluttering his lashes.

He holds up the adamantine between his fingers, gesturing to it with his other hand, "As you see, this piece is a royal brilliant cut, high quality with clear facets," Karkat knows it's a round cut, he just doesn't know for sure what type it actually is, "It'd be perfect for something to show off, or even for making your own piece-- isn't jewelry-making it's own art form??"

Karkat can talk circles around this type of blueblood, haughty attitude and exuding self-importance. "Say, Miss, you're an artist, yeah? I bet you've got a gallery to show off all your works, don't you??" He leans in just a little like he's got something private to tell her without overhearing ears, "You've heard of gem art, haven't you?" He asks like it's something she should have heard of by now, "I hear it's going to be quite a big thing soon, the Violets already have a fin in it," Karkat innocently rocks on his feet, "It'd be pretty big and bold of a land artist to have a big, pretty, glittery centerpiece in their gallery-- what's it called, a magnum opus??"

Karkat looks up at Gamzee (he was already tall but now he's got some fucking height since he's standing up straight), as if he needs affirmation that he's using the right highbrow word (he doesn't). "It'd be pretty sad if this ends up being a missed opportunity.."

 

*

 

The Blueblood sighs, as if put upon.

"Yes, okay, but it looks purple in the lighte." She straightens up, hand on her rounded cheek.

"I have my first gallery opening next perigee, and the laste thing I neede are some clowns coming in. Theire raiding has gotten so horrible as of late. Almoste as bad as Burgundybloodes." She squints at the crystal again, and Gamzee keeps his laughter tightly contained in his chest.
"I doubt these could be used for any magnum opus , deare, but they'll do for comissions." She swings her bag around.

"Howe much? I'm a Bluebloode, remember. Don't ask for the impossible." She's already rummaging through her bag, Karkat's buzzwords clearly playing in her head.
Gamzee's almost certain Karkat just made up 'gem art'.
Not that he knows about 'fine art'; he almost wants to stick around just to raid this Cerulean's exhibition.

Almost.

Gamzee's not a complete idiot, though.
"Oh, yes, before I go, let me give you this." The Cerulean presents a small card, gripped between her two hands.

Gamzee, making sure to avoid physical contact, plucks the card from her grip.

"Remele Namaaq." He murmurs the name, unimpressed.

"Yes, keep that. I do comissions for a very affordable price, and many of my clientelle are Navybloodes. I've learned to appreciate musclebeasts, and capture their essence." She almost purrs, while Gamzee politely slips the card beneath his tunic, trying to ignore the need to laugh.

"Quite a feat. Impressive." His praise is flat, but that he gives praise at all makes the Blueblood perk up.
Gamzee gestures to his mate, ready to get the attention off him so he can go have a laughing fit in some dark corner.

"Please, continue the transaction with my moirail. I'd prefer to leave the market as soon as possible. It's... unseemly."
Remele nods, her bun bouncing with the motion.

"Of course -- howe much?" Her gaze darts back to Karkat, and she's pulled out her coin purse.

 

*

 

As put upon as she sounds, she's bought the act hook line and sinker, Karkat almost looking as proud of himself as he feels but not for the reason she probably thinks. "Perish the thought," Karkat puts a hand to his cheek in a mock, pearl-clutching gasp (not that she would know) when she brings up raids. He knows they've got her when she asks how much.

Gamzee receives what seems like her business card, for a Remele Namaaq, who goes on to offer her commission services to him, though Karkat doubts they'll be making use of it. Still he can't quite get over Gamzee's flat tone and overall wordage; he's between two of the snootiest caste's and somehow manages to bring all of that in his act.

 

From there he's left alone, Gamzee still walking upright and away while Karkat turns back to finish the deal with Remele. "How much? Well..," he pretends to look just slightly troubled and in thought, "..well, my moirail had these appraised, so the full value is.....over a million caegers," That's not unreasonable for a seadweller, and only barely for a Navy (but it is an inaccurate guess*). Before the Cerulean can outright object, Karkat continues, "Too much, right? So if you can keep a secret from my moirail, I'll give you a huge discount!" He goes back to that too innocent beam and makes a count on his hands like he's just another olive bumpkin, "I think..three-hundred-thousand caegers is much better than overpaying the full appraise value."

Once he's wheedled Remele to giving up such an amount-- who carries that much on them??? --, Karkat thanks her with a winning smile and acting fairly chipper, asking her about her commissions and prices, feigning his interest about her usual medium and how he'll see if his 'moirail' wants anything specific. Gushing about how she'll turn a profit with her commissions and more than make up for what she paid. In the end, Karkat is walking off with a heavy sack of ceagers and still another pouch of gems to sell-- though, they should probably do that in another city if they can, it might get around if he does that to another troll) more than pleased with himself and trying to find which way Gamzee, or the rest of their little entourage went.

 

Several paces behind, someone watches the mutant. Too far to be detected and just close enough that they can't lose sight of him. Seeing as he hands off a pouch of something in exchange for a much bigger, weighty sack. Almost staggering off with it while the figure slowly and carefully follows behind.

 

*

 

Gamzee's hardly a few paces away, pretending to be interested in some finery; Karako hovers nearby, hands hidden in his sleeves.
Barzum and Baizli weaves throughout the market, making a game of tripping up trolls and running off.
As a Navyblood passes them -- someone of high status, sporting the latest trends -- Karako falls in-step behind the much larger troll, gripping the knives he'd hidden in his sleeves.

With a quick step forward, he's buried both blades deep into the Navy's backside; a wrenches them out to a violent spray of Navy, and the troll collapses.

Suddenly, everything erupts; Karako darts into the crowd and honks loudly, and trolls are quick to scream of an Indigoblood raid.
Gamzee hisses, head whipping around to find Karkat -- and he doesn't even bother giving Karkat the option to walk, instead hauling him up over his shoulder and taking off.

"Barzum! Baizli! Karako!" He shouts, following the loud shrieks; Karako's trying to clear the way for them, his knives bloodied.
The twins are quick to dart ahead, their small legs pumping; Gamzee doesn't put Karkat down until they've left the city walls, and taken refuge in the nearest grouping of thick foliage.
Then, bristling, Gamzee turns on Karako.

"The motherfuck was that?!" He asks, voice low and venomous.
Karako, garb spattered in smears of Navy, Cerulean, and Olive, honks and jumps, throwing cautious looks over his shoulder.
Gamzee's lips become a thin line, and he bunches a hand into the fabric of Karkat's tunic.

"Karkat..." His eyes thin, gaze flickering to his mate.

" Someone was following you. We extended our kindness once. This pushes it." He murmurs, ears flicking, hoping to pick up any sound.

The twins, to their credit, know to be quiet.
Karako, much to his dismay, begins to change the story -- yes , it was a Jadeblood, but maybe not her -- maybe it was an Oliveblood.

Gamzee snaps his fangs.

"Clearly, we need to move faster." He almost hisses the words, to no one in particular; he'd been looking forward to a feast, some new fabric to sew new clothes, some new paints. It's tiring, but he can't blame anyone for it.

"C'mon," he gently nudges Karkat in the direction of running water, "let's follow the stream back. We gotta go. Probably ain't gonna be able to stop at your cloister, Karako -- apologies." The malnourished troll gives Gamzee a sad, knowing look; they can't waste their times in caverns if they're still being actively pursued.

 

*

 

Earlier The Night Before...

 

It's madness.

On the one hand, the wedding is completely ruined, halted (well-deserved and with good reason, for not letting Kanaya at least make Karkat's gown, it would have been precisely his fit and an infinite amount more tasteful than that awful glorified rag Ampora commissioned to shove him in), but on the other, it's because of a raid. If other trolls haven't yet escaped then they're being slaughtered down, almost a full, rainbow mess that makes her head spin but not for the reason that one would think. Once Kanaya can shake the scent of blood from her senses, she looks up to the sight of Ampora threatening her charge, handling the mutant in a way that's unacceptable-- legally and personally.

For a moment she sees red, heavily aggroed on Ampora so much her skin almost brightens-- but not here, or else there will be even more trouble. Kanaya has yet to full-on fight a seadweller-- has yet to fight anyone higher than Navy for that matter --, but oh is it a prideful thing to know she's at least got enough force to knock one down and rescue her ward in one swoop. At least, until their way out is blocked, and then they are blocked even further.

Karkat, darling thing, silly, sweet one, decides that he's going to protect her this time, telling her to stay and telling the Purplebloods to leave her be while they take him. She's held back by basically a child as the others escape, Karkat in tow, and Kanaya left behind with the pupa holding her in place. She gets to watch Ampora's idiotic sputtering before calling for his guards in a shrill voice, stomping off to whine about his bride-- as if he was even worthy of having Karkat as his bride --being stolen, Kanaya completely forgotten as well as the wriggler holding her back.

Once the grip on her arms loosens, she twists around to face the child, almost stooping down, concern on her face and putting a hand to his cheek, "Young one..," Kanaya starts, though after a closer look, the 'pupa''s eyes are obviously filling in, practically those of a young adult. Kanaya gives a tired sigh, "...younger than me you are, but your eyes betray you." She rubs a spot between her eyes, looking back to the short troll as her brow knit in the middle, "I don't suppose you'll tell me where he's being taken?"

 

*

 

Karako is distinctly aware, despite the blood threatening to slip his knives from his grip, of the Violetblood behind him; the half-dead, dying trolls who will see him and try to pull him into the afterlife with them.
Karako is also distinctly aware that this Jade is not his Jade, and she's cold to the touch; cold like a dead thing.
He shakes his head, brows furrowing.

"You'll damn us all if you pursue him." Karako speaks with a voice beyond his sweeps, beyond Kanaya's sweeps -- but he has the body of a wriggler and he knows it.

"Return to your village if you understand what is best for you." As much as he knows he should cull this Jadeblood to save him from the visions which swim through his mind during the day, Karako merely dashes past her, out of the ceremonial hall; his feet hit dirt and he keeps going until his bellow sacs remind him that he was hatched wrong.

Thankfully, no one expects him to have culled the Jade; no one asks. They understand him in that regard. They tolerate his preferences, his bias, even when it's an inconvenience for them -- but Karako knows The Grand Highblood's mirth and malice flows through Gamzee.

By the time he stops laughing, it'll be too late.

 

Present Day...

 

Gamzee ushers the twins ahead, and puts Karako behind him. Their feet want to sink into the muddy bank.
He's keeping Karkat between himself and the twins, baring his fangs and flexing his claws. Half-feral and ready to kill or die. Karako keeps quiet, knives out, muscles taut while he looks into the treeline, hoping to see nothing.

 

*

 

"Wait!!" Kanaya calls out, but the troll is already out of the hall and she's left in the remnants of the massacre; left as the blood mixes and wafts up, breathing hard for beats of time. No one else remains in the hall, save the gasps and shuddered breath of a Navy choking on their own blood, struck down and having a hard time staying down. It's a quick decision to give in, and she can't quite help it, the sound pulling her closer, dragging the body somewhere more secluded before she knows it, laying the troll across her lap. He's built similar to Zahhak's, the jewelry-maker who'd visited her shop some time ago-- he and his moirail are kind trolls, enough that she hopes they're alright on their travels --though, Kanaya's never been into that.

There's no saving this troll, the wound too severe, a deep gash through his throat but at least she won't have to make it herself. At the very least, she can help him pass more peacefully than on a cold marble floor, and neither his death or blood will go to waste-- at the very least, his blood won't.

 

Present Day

 

She did not go home. Hah.

Without Karkat? Impossible.

No, Kanaya followed the trail of carnage to the outskirts of the city, trolls culled at random-- strangely no Jade, though perhaps also not strange, being that Jades outside of a cloister were rare enough. Logical observation and deduction dictate that her best option would be the fresh tracks of wheels and Lusii. Purposely tore the skirt of her dress out of the way of walking, and single-mindedly followed. Even when day rises, she's not worried about being without a suncloak-- she doesn't need to be.

Coming upon them setting up camp and sending Karkat into the woods, Karkat running past her. Finding where Karkat is sleeping easily because of his leading sugar scent and the pair of wedding shoes outside a tent-- leaving rather flustered once she heard part of the conversation, wringing the torn cloth of her dress after that. Kanaya is at the city first, right at dusk (because how can she sleep??), goes to visit a Cerulean 'friend' who can better prepare her for travel-- at least for looking inconspicuous while she tails Karkat, waiting for a chance to take him back from Purple clutches.

And once again, chaos erupts, varying blood splashing the city streets. Kanaya becoming frustrated as her charge is swept up by that damned Purpleblood and she loses the flow of the crowd to conceal her. But this time she isn't far behind; even picking up the sack that Karkat had dropped, almost bursting with caegers, tailing the entourage from far enough that she won't lose them even as they hide in the foliage and take a wary trek back to camp because they can't see her. Perhaps before they reach their caravans, Kanaya will have another chance then.

 

Karkat can't believe it, and by the fisted hand in his tunic, is actually too frightened to try and talk more information from Gamzee and Karako. But who could it be? Kanaya....should have gone home, couldn't have made it so far out this way. But the way Gamzee says that to him...

He's quiet on the way back, apologetic, feeling like he did something wrong; it was in a way his fault, since he's the one being followed and it's ruined the outing. The way Karkat's feeling completely overshadows all the pride and chipper cheeriness he'd had from selling off the gems. Gamzee may as well have hackles raised, which certainly makes Karkat feel like he does, walking behind him while snarling like that. He doesn't even have the gall to try and shoosh him again, nor the knowledge if it would even work like before.

 

*

 

The trek back is arduous and stressful, and not for a second does Gamzee let up -- a warning growl cuts through the sound of water splashing.
These trolls don't understand .
Even when the caravans are in sight, Gamzee doesn't let up, immediately retching his clubs.

"It's that Jade." He growls, lips peeled back in a sneer.
Chahut rumbles deep in her chest, while Kurloz turns his head in a slow scan of the treeline.

"Figures. Heretics got their pans on backwards." Chahut mutters, taking the initiative to get into the leading caravan.
Gamzee points Marvus and the twins into the rear caravan, while he takes Kurloz aside, and points to the middle caravan.

"We take turns. If anything happens to Karkat, if that middleblooded, overconfident bitch gets a single frond on my mate -- " Gamzee doesn't need to finish the sentence, Kurloz grabbing his things from his previous caravan, and quickly loading them into the middle caravan.

An alarmingly spiked club appears to be his weapon of choice.
Gamzee sweeps Karkat off his feet, and Kurloz's gloved hands take the mutant, setting him down in the back of the caravan.

"You drive first. I was up there all day, and I'd rather cull the damn Lusii than deal with them." Gamzee hops into the caravan, ripping his hair free of its ponytail.
He only rests on his haunches once they've pulled off, hissing breath between his teeth.

" Typical shit ." He mutters, still clutching his clubs.

"What makes us fair game, but, with Ampora, that bitch just bit her lip and took it? What?" He's addressing Karkat, irate, looking for something or someone to take out his anger and disappointment on.

"Is it the castle? You own a Kingdom and suddenly you're untouchable? That how it works?" He smirks, and it's an ugly expression.

"No, it ain't that. It's the whole idea we just wanna plunder and loot and motherfucking murder every one of you bastards -- when a Blueblood does it, it's just distasteful. When a middleblood does it, it's probably righteous. When a lowblood does it, it's for survival." He gestures around them.

" Fuck it all, this Empire should burn ." Whether or not Kurloz can hear him, it doesn't matter.
Kurloz has heard him say much worse.
"Lost all our caegers, too." He chuckles, a sour sound.

"Didn't even get the twins their treat."

 

*

 

Karkat is afraid of a lot of things; he isn't usually, he's always been too stubborn to be afraid, but this time even that isn't keeping such dreadful things out of his head.
He's afraid of it really being Kanaya, even when Gamzee spits out affirmation 'it's that Jade', and of her dying because she's come for him. Afraid of Gamzee when before it had been so easy for Karkat to say just about whatever came to mind, talkback and that building rapport back and forth that made it feel like Karkat could learn to like him back the same way. Now, Gamzee seems to be set on a constant snarl that has everyone fucking move and haul ass to pack up and get going, grabbing a brutal looking spiked club that has Karkat go pale.

Karkat's lifted without being able to give much of a protest as he's loaded into the caravan, pushing himself against a wall first off and hoping to make himself as small as possible, soon Kurloz and Gamzee joining him in the caravan. Kurloz is at the front again, while Gamzee sits in the back as well. Flinching when harshly-worded questions are directed at him, Karkat digging claws into his own skin and keeping his eyes to a point in his lap. Lips parting, but Karkat can't even find words-- usually a grand feat, for Karkat Vantas to be rendered speechless, but.... --, closing again and remaining silent; he doesn't know what might set that horribleness off again.

He's partially right, not so much the castle bit but more so that Ampora had people at his bidding, had already sent them to his village for his retrieval, had the ability to be so petty simply because he could; if Kanaya had acted rashly, even Karkat, wouldn't that have brought consequences on their village?

It's an unpleasant kind of look Gamzee has on his face, making Karkat double down on keeping his gaze firmly glued to his thighs. Cursing the Empire to burn, but it really strikes him when he mentions the caegers and the twins, big, pale red tears finally welling up on his lashes to streak down his cheeks.

 

Tsk. They'd been on alert the whole time Kanaya had been following, no chance to slip in closer and whisk Karkat away. The sack isn't heavy, but it is unnecessary and holding her back from following the caravans at her full pace. Whatever Karkat had done had earned quite a sum and she can imagine the look on his face when he dropped it.

She has a few options, Kanaya could find a Lusus big enough to carry her and run after the caravans, but that takes time she doesn't have. Or, she can just continue on like this-- they'll have to stop at dawn, and by then Kanaya will already be there before next dusk, waiting.

The Grand Highblood has already stolen twice from Karkat, to be technical. Karkat will not be a third nor stolen himself, not so long as light glimmers off her skin even if she's torn apart, Kanaya has no intention of dying or staying dead.

 

*

 

"Stop that ocular leaking. It's pathetic." He demands flatly, staring at the curtained opening of the caravan.
They only stop momentarily, at dawn, to change riders; Gamzee throwing on an old, tattered suncloak.

"Feed him." He demands Kurloz in that same dull voice, now entirely concealed beneath a shapeless robe.
For once, Kurloz talks back.

"With what?" His teeth, behind a pair of inoffensive black lips, are all long and sharp; the look like they sound get in the way of speaking.

"Anything." Gamzee responds, entering into the harsh, unforgiving Alternia day to continue steering the beasts.
Kurloz carefully sets down his spiked club, scanning over a toppled pile of books, the mutant troll, and all the other miscellany they have strewn about in this caravan.

Luckily for them, most of it is important.

Sadly, most of it also isn't food.
They have personal goods, trading goods, ceremonial goods; most food and drink is kept in the rear wagon -- and they're running dangerously low.

Not that this is a rare occurrence, but they don't have the option to stop and hunt or forage -- and Kurloz imagines Karkat's opinion of them has been dropping like a rock for the past few hours. Letting him starve isn't going to do anyone much good.

The older troll moves swiftly and silently, opening chests, dipping into them, then quietly closing the chest before moving onto the next.
He returns to Karkat with a cloth-bound square, opening it.

"You'll get to eat when we switch over. I'll tell my Brother to grab something from the rear caravan." Whatever's left, anyway.

"For now, I hope this will suffice." He unties the package, presenting Karkat with a palm-sized piece of chocolate.
It's old, clearly from a larger piece -- but the coolness has preserved it.

Kurloz gets to his feet, and return to his club, idly resting his hand on the grip.

 

*

 

That just makes him feels worse if anything, and no matter how Karkat scrunches his face, it doesn't seem to stem the flow (him crying is definitely a part of how he thought his captive situation would be). They're mostly silent until the next dawn hits, though they don't make any stop, Gamzee switching out with Kurloz and throwing on a suncloak for the harsh sun. He's wary of the other, unsure. Kurloz is given a task and hardly gives a complaint about it, searching about the caravan. Karkat wants to tell him not to worry about him, don't bother, since the thought of eating gets a firm n o from his guts, doesn't even think he could with tensions so high.

Kurloz only does as he's told, looking through the trunks until he's found something, Karkat blinking through tears at his offered hand. He's surprised that he doesn't say much of anything else aside from words that are almost kind. Chocolate is a rarity, and the process for making it is difficult, but Karkat's tasted it before when those traders from the other continent visit his village-- he loves it, to be truthful, especially made with cream and sugar. "Th-Thank you...," his voice ekes out a little scratchy from not speaking, Karkat gingerly holding the cloth.

Whenever he's had a reason to cry and refused to do anything else, Kanaya's always been the one to convince him to eat, he won't have energy to even cry if he doesn't eat. The chocolate itself isn't new but it still melts the same once he gets a corner of it between his lips, nibbling away while the caravan goes back to being silent. He's perking up, at least a little, from the sugar, though still making the occasional, quiet sniffle.

".....why?" His voice almost doesn't come out, but somehow it feels easier to speak to Kurloz than it'd been to Gamzee, even if the older troll doesn't feel much like conversing back. "Why..go through all of this trouble? She's my clade, why not let me resolve it?" Remembering how Gamzee snapped at him when he referred to Kanaya as clade, Karkat snaps himself before Kurloz can repeat it, if he was going to, "Even though I've let him have me, that doesn't cut my ties with her." He only holds the glare that comes with it for a moment before his eyes go soft again.

 

They're in sight.
That's only because of the traveler who's wagon cart she's commandeered...the traveler who almost ran her over with his stock-beast and is now laying on the side of the road. The details aren't important. But now, Kanaya has new blood coursing through her and some relief, some hope once she sees the rear caravan in the distance. Her hood is pulled over her head, even though she doesn't need it, and it's much faster than her walking while carrying Karkat's dropped belongings and the large wrapped package on her back-- an item commissioned from her Cerulean friend, not that Serket could have made it but she was the middletroll to have procured it for Kanaya, being just lucky that the marauder decided to stop in the same city.

Now it's a matter of catching up, which shouldn't take long, considering it's just her by herself and they're a company of three caravans. Readying the wrapped item and winding a spool of thread around the hilt of it.

 

*

 

“Why do anything?” Kurloz retorts, voice level; calm and low.

“This life is not an easy one, not one accepted or tolerated by others — so why are we still here? The Empress and her citizens would have us dead. Why do we not simply lie down and die? It’d be easy, simple, and the loss of our caste would ensure the falsely linear nature of the hemospectrum; make the lie the truth.” Karkat’s glare goes unacknowledged; he’s been handed worse on Gamzee’s good days.
“No one particularly wants to live like this. You’d return to her.” His gaze falls to the mutant, and the small smile he gives is entirely blank.

“Brother Karako must already have an inkling of this; what would happen.” His face paint only serves to make him look more gaunt, more uninviting.
“You would all die.” Kurloz says this as casually, factually, as if he were claiming Alternia has two moons.

“ We would all die for failing.” He presses a gloved, flawed finger to his own chest.

“It seems the Jade is ignorant of this. I’m surprised Karako became aware of it at all. Marvus may be aware, but he believes in the universe righting itself; if that involves his death, then he’s not shown an aversion to that notion.” Slowly, he draws his gaze to the dark curtains of the caravan.

His grip on his club tightens ever so subtly.

“She’s coming, Karkat. Resolve yourself. The merciful Messiah has fallen silent.”

 

*

 

Their steers are tired, having to run all night and day, Kanaya guesses from her. Any other troll might take pride in that but she has more important things to focus on. Urging the Lusus pulling her to go on, go faster, seeing how close she is already. Purple they may be, but they need to move carefully, even if they have suncloaks, while Kanaya doesn't need one-- she has some advantage in the daylight.
She crouches down, hoping to lessen the drag of the wagon. Left inside from the previous owner is a bundle of grip-sized wooden poles, all smoothed and tied together. Throwing spears or projectiles take a lot of skill and honing, takes time that she doesn't have, but the idea should be simple enough. Timing and as much luck as she can hope for is what she needs.

The cart is just nearing the rear caravan, and now is as good a time as any if she wanted to do something, though she needs them all to stop to see where Karkat is. Could she throw far enough to stop the front? Worth a try, otherwise she'd have to jump.

 

Kurloz's words are not what he wants to hear-- who really wants to hear such a truth? Bitterly narrowing his eyes with his lips set in a frown. Tears still cling to his lashes, but the flash of anger seems to halt them on it's own. Angry at Kurloz. Angry with Gamzee.

...Angry with himself, for not being capable. Even if he was capable, could he fix this? Was there any fixing this?
No. No . That can't be.

There has to be another way, there's always another way. Karkat refuses that there isn't. Quietly, against the wall of the caravan as there's a sudden bump and lurch, Karkat resolves himself but not for what Kurloz may have meant.

 

*

 

“ Kurloz !” Gamzee barks, and the older Indigoblood closes the small distance between himself and Karkat.
He hoists the troll to his feet, and wraps a ice-cold hand around the mutant’s neck.

“We will all perish.” He murmurs, more than ready to kill Karkat; snap his neck, gouge out his throat, or throw the both of them out into the burning daylight.
Gamzee bellows for them to stop, and they roll to a slow; Gamzee, Chahut, and Marvus are the first off the caravans, already in their cloaks.

Chahut takes the initiative to cleave into the beast pulling the following caravan, rending open its side; its screaming is a high-pitched wail.

In the rear cart, the twins shriek in turn, hastily trying to pull on their cloaks.

Karako honks, trying to make himself heard above the chaos.
“ Stop ! They’ll cull him !” He waves his arms, knives in-hand; the exposed flesh singes immediately, his small figure hopping frantically.

“They’ll kill him! They’ll kill us! You monster !” Karako continues, while Marvus casually wields his sword; his exposed hand purpling, blistering.
He laughs, low and slow, as if they were all reclining in a tent.

“You tried, Ko. Can’t always get through to these bitches, you feel me?” A blister forming on the back of his hand bursts open and, if he feels it, he doesn’t so much as flinch.
“Shame.” Chahut muses, the twins scrambling to join them; Baizli trips, ripping off his suncloak, and both twins begin shrieking in agony.
Gamzee kicks Baizli swiftly beneath the middle caravan, where he quiets; Barzum continues to shiver, moaning.

“His skin — my skin — our skin ! It burns ! He hurts !” She shouts, enraged and hurt, half-mad.
Baizli’s heavy, pained breathing can be heard through the floor of the caravan.

Kurloz doesn’t so much as look down.

“Poor pupa. I pray their deaths are swift. Ours will be prolonged and painful.”

 

*

 

Kanaya, thankfully, stops dead in place. It's as if a line has been drawn and they're all pupae playing keep-away and she's the one stuck behind the boundary. Of course, this is much heavier than that. Six, and then five, Indigos stand before her, blistering in the sun while she stands unafflicted, no sign of Karkat (but she can hear him, smell that lingering sugar in his blood and body); they are ready to die, it seems, and if she heeds the troll from before when Karkat was first taken, they are more than ready to take him with them. Then everything will be for naught everything their village stands and lives for will have meant nothing if Karkat dies, not even with the young Heiress they've been protecting.

"...You'd rather kill him than let him come home alive," It's not so much a question as a statement, since that's what they're doing, her entire body bristling at the fact, "What cowardice . You'll repeat the same mistake as your bloodline, descendant ." Kanaya sneers the word with a hiss, directing it at the pair of horns that ran off with Karkat the first time-- they match with the depictions under the elder's hive.
She doesn't move an inch still, too much at stake, furious as she is. Frustrated that they're at this stand-still. "It's those mistakes that have your caste scattered as you are now."

 

This isn't the sort of resolve Karkat was prepared for. The hand at his throat isn't like Gamzee's, the touch entirely too unpleasant. He hisses and struggles, though to no avail since he has no brute strength to overpower Kurloz, hands scrabbling over cool skin to release him. Outside Karkat can hear so much, shouting and yelling, something as if some beast is dying-- the twins-- "No--!!" Both are screaming, a heart-wrenching sound to him, until it stops and one whimpers and sobs their words while pained, wheezing breaths come up from under the caravan.

Kicking boldly at Kurloz, for saying such a thing (and for being an ass by keeping him by the throat) even though it does nothing to free him. Hearing one twin outside, Karkat hazards a guess, giving a thrash against steel-like arms, "--Baizli-- Baizli--!!" Kanaya wouldn't, was it just the sunlight?? "Let go already!! I have to get him-- I have to stop this!!"

 

*

 

“Whoa, babe, that elevated hoofbeast? I’d get off it. That’s some mighty foul sheeeeet you’re tossing our way, get it?” Marvus can feel his sword heating beneath his hand, now burning his palm as well.

“Her ocular globes and aural canals have been stuffed with falsehoods. I wouldn’t waste the breath.” Chahut raises her axe, exposing an entire arm; the skin begins to darken, to burn.
Karako hisses, loud, until his bellow sacs ache deeply.

“ Get out of here ! You won’t win ! You cannot win !” He sounds angered, now, enraged.

 

The one to breech the barrier is Barzum, screaming shrilly, jumping at Kanaya.
Gamzee throws a club at Kanaya, freeing up a hand to grab Barzum — but her only grabs her suncloak, and the burning rays of the Sun don’t stop her.

“ Die, die, die! ” She gets close enough to swipe at Kanaya, too fast for her age, twice as vicious as any other troll.
Both Chahut and Gamzee follow, the cloak in Gamzee’s hand.
Baizli, beneath the caravan, begins screaming once more.

“ Our skin! Make it stop! She hurts! I hurt! We hurt! Make it stop! Stop! ” He writhes, screeching in pain while his twin does the same in rage; aiming for vitals.
Marvus hooks a hand around Karako’s arm, feeling how tensed he is; how ready he is.
Inside the caravan, Kurloz’s gaze never leaves Karkat’s.

“This,” his gaze flickers briefly to the floor, “wouldn’t be happening if that Jade had a single shred of care for Indigobloods — yet, I’m sure she’s void of it. Why should we show them mercy when their mercy sleeps for us? They’re merely pupae. Moreover, they feel this pain twice, connected as they are; he feels her rage and she feels his helplessness.” His brows raise.

“Does that Jade consider this? That we feel? That we want and need and feel and are not allowed? Would she cull a pupa?”

 

*

 

Did they not know?

But Kanaya can't think any more about that-- the pupa rushes her, and as if some cruel twist of fate had stepped in, an attempt to stop her turns horridly wrong, the child now exposed to the sun. There's rage in her eyes, even as she burns, as if she doesn't even feel it (she may later). Kanaya has lept backward, just a flash of surprise at the pupa, but a swipe cuts her side, a stab to her shoulder, though after Jade trickles out, so does Navy and Bronze.

She pulls her own cloak off, it does her no good, throws it first over the child's head before wrapping the rest around her small body, covering her from the sun in a heap of cloth but halting her attack. Glancing up just to dodge backward again, the descendant and the built woman following after the child to have at Kanaya-- or perhaps save the wriggler.
"You say I have falsehoods; I should say the same of you-- I don't mean your gods," Kanaya grits out, just barely parrying out of the swing of an axe and the spikes of a club, hand on the hilt of the still-wrapped item, seeming to be a wide, flat thing as it's braced in front of her.

 

"She wouldn't!" Karkat insists, teeth grit together and denying harsh words. He knows really, that this wouldn't be happening if it weren't for him; Kanaya wouldn't have come after them, he wouldn't have dropped the caegers back in the city, all of this because Karkat is here.

Well, he's here, isn't he? Shouldn't he do something? At least help Baizli, shouldn't he? Come on, think!!

Kurloz is holding too firmly without showing much for how Karkat is struggling, enough that even if his feet were to leave the ground, he'd still be held upright. Which is what he tries, pushing up with his feet and swinging his legs like it'd help break free of the grasp on him.

 

*

 

Barzum is stopped for a moment, but only a moment, before she’s lashing out again, stabbing until Gamzee grabs her and tosses her small body backward.
Chahut buries her axe into the wheels of the cart, the walls, the seat; she’s hardly aiming for the bothersome troll.

Gamzee, for his part, backs off.

Then, Karako breaks free of Marvus with a roar — and it’s physical, spiritual, mental — jostling Chahut a step forward, the others a step backward. A wave of fear as he advances upon Kanaya, taking careful, deadly swipes at her neck; sever the head.

That’s what Gamzee does.

That’s what they do.
If Kanaya could see his face, read his expression, she’d find deep betrayal buried in his snarl.

The cloister, now behind them, coloured his expectations of Jadebloods; Bronya saved him . She kept him in the caverns and rejected multiple caravans until, with much scrutiny, passing him over to Gamzee.

Maybe it was that they have pupae and wrigglers.
It’s not uncommon for pupae and wrigglers to be left to fend for themselves, to prove themselves alone — not all caravans take in the young and raise them.

Even fewer caravans would’ve taken a malnourished, ill-hatched wriggler.
“Caution, Brother...” Chahut raises her hatchet and bring it down, chopping a wheel clear off the cart.

“That one conceals a weapon.” If Karako can hear Chahut, he doesn’t seem to care.
Kurloz’s eyes grow wide, and begin to flash a myriad of colours.

“Everyone is alive... for now. Messiahs be praised.” He can feel Gamzee’s thoughts, the twins’ agony, Karako’s rage and pain; Chahut’s resolve and resignation, Marvus’ contemplation.
The first Indigoblood to die means Karkat dies — means they all die — but, until then, he’s merely restraining the mutant.

 

*

 

Everything is quiet in a split second, save for a sickening sound of bone and flesh being slashed at, so loud in his ears it almost hurts his head. Karkat's heart sinks to the floor, and then even deeper. Turning his eyes back to Kurloz, ".....what does that mean..," he's gone still, no longer fighting the grip that keeps him. "What the fuck does that mean." There's a waver to his voice, unstable as he can't get the sound out of his head, the possibility of what it might mean.

 

Outside, if the now hacked up caravan is searched, they'd find the bag of caegers and Karkat's satchel. Even as the one with a pupa's body is already slicing into her flesh, Kanaya grabs at him-- her hand even goes up his sleeve, catching the chains around her wrist--, as if she isn't afraid of dying or her head being severed, voice being cut off with each impact, "You--hh, all are fools--," her voice is a wheeze, if anyone hears at all, it is the one trying to decapitate her, though she bets he won't even consider her words, "He wi--kgh! Die because of y--!"

Rich Jade gushes out, from both Kanaya's mouth and her throat, gasping wetly as blood flows where it shouldn't. Even if she did something about it now, she can't recuperate fast enough to stop the bleeding nor the wounds; even her neck is no longer stable....

She's going to have to go down...

Well. Fuck.

Notes:

As I'd said earlier, I wasn't really sure what exactly I wanted with the characters I was piloting, and in the end it resulted in some shit going down. This Kanaya, I wasn't really proud of, though of course later on we retconned and tweaked some things for this and in other chats we were able to allow her some breathing room with better plot planning, which I think relieved us both and gave opportunity for her to be more than a device.

Reading back on it, it makes me laugh but I'm a little embarrassed with myself too.

To you, my friend, and everyone else: Be safe. I hope you're alright.

Chapter 10: Grief

Notes:

Of course, as with most stories, if it can then it most certainly will get worse. I think we did that excessively efficient, and as I told you the amount of tears I gave over this and our others is shithive.

I will give a fair warning now: This section does contain abusive behaviors and instances of suicidal thoughts, along with confirming a major (temporary) death.

As I understand these are sensitive topics, thus I have given a due warning.

"All my Brothers and Sisters are present." He answers simply, unable or unwilling to give Karkat any further information on the battle -- because his mind doesn't work like that.
Sure, he could puppet the twins, or Karako -- perhaps even subtly suggest Chahut to do this or that -- but he's no mind-reader. That isn't how chucklevoodoos work, and he's surprised Karkat hasn't pissed himself in fear from the wave Karako sent out.

Perhaps, mutants are immune to chucklevoodoos.

That'd be just another thorn in their battered side.

 

Karako snarls and roars, hacking at the fingers, hands, and wrists that try to deter him from the Jadeblood's neck.
He should never have left the cloister -- even if he didn't belong. It isn't as if they all got along particularly well to begin with, it isn't as if he was a burden ; he could learn the motions of caring for grubs, could learn to stomach the stench of mixed slurry.

Karako hacks until the Jadeblood stops talking, until he hears the splat of the Jadeblood's head hit the ground behind her. Even then, he forces a few more knives into the body, his cloak soaking in blood.
"Enough!" Gamzee growls, grabs Karako and throws him back.

"Everyone get into the middle caravan! Take only the necessities!" Gamzee commands, and they all obey; Marvus moves food and water while Chahut moves religious paraphernalia; Gamzee crouches down beside the twins and huddles them under his cloak.

 

Karako, panting, rips his knives from the Jadeblood's body, and grabs the last things of true importance from the caravans.
With everyone piling into the middle caravan, it quickly becomes crowded.
Chahut lifts her suncloak for a moment, showing nothing more than a blackening arm; she's instructed to control the Lusii.

They're tense, even when they begin to move.

 

"Kurloz, let my mate be. If he wants to throw himself into the motherfucking Sun and die, then that's his choice." Gamzee's voice is flat as he shifts off his cloak; Baizli has no cloak, and Barzum is sloppily wrapped in another.

Marvus is mostly uninjured, although his hand tells a different story; it bleeds freely, the flesh puffy and dark; distorted.

Karako is forming blusters along his arms and hands, looking mad enough for everyone.
The twins are the worst off.
Barzum's blinking often, tearing up; every inch of her skin is purpled and irritated. Baizli's the same, although his eyes were spared, and it's only his backside which has begun to erupt in blisters.
Gamzee ushers the twins off, his hands and arms burnt but not blistered; he has a gentle touch with them, easing Baizli onto his front while Barzum stands.

Kurloz moves over to Marvus, looking over the offered hand.
Gamzee holds up three fingers to Barzum, and repeatedly asks her how many, each time backing up; until she's squinting, purple tears tracking down her face. She admits she knows the number, but she also admits that, halfway across the caravan, everything becomes a blur of shapes and colours.

Gamzee clicks in his throat, wishing they had sopor -- a fucking recuperacoon would do them good.
"How far to the next city?" Gamzee asks, pulling out a jar of salve, which he begins to apply to Barzum once she's stripped.

"We can't stop. Surely, Ampora's after us, too." Kurloz answers, waiting for Gamzee to finish with the salve -- wondering if any will be left for Marvus' swollen, bloody hand.

Gamzee clicks again, gesturing for Barzum to turn so he can apply the salve to her backside.

 

*

 

Any notions that Karkat had about him being able to help anyone, do anything at all (protect anyone and thing precious to him), are immediately crushed and shattered. At the wet, audible thump, it's as if the world is ending in a constant ring of sound that deafens anything else after that. He's completely, utterly limp in Kurloz's grasp, doesn't even look up as everyone else climbs into the caravan, not even making a sound as he faced to the wall, new tears falling into his lap.

Everyone else aside from him and Kurloz is burned, some that need more than a salve to cure. Once Gamzee commands it is Karkat finally released, only to crumple down on the spot he's not even allowed to grieve the corpse-- he should run outside, go straight to Kanaya's body, no matter how it looks, at least send her off properly with funeral rites, how can they just leave her there like that!?.

Karkat tries, really he does, to stand up. His legs twitch and his fingers clench, digging into his palms hard enough it probably breaks the skin. Shaking all over, barely breathing that he's so quiet; the yellow of his sclera tint, just the slightest, the muscles in his back hackling, the darkest things seeping into his head.

 

*

 

With Barzum covered from head-to-toe in salve, Gamzee moves onto Baizli, who stretches out for him, tensing and twitching under his gentle touch.
Marvus is calm, quiet -- by the time Gamzee crosses the rocking caravan, elbowing Kurloz aside, most of the salve has been used up. Gamzee has to scrape away at the dredges.

The hand Marvus offers is held in a tensed, claw-like manner; if he extended his fingers, skin would stretch, and blisters would pop.

Parts of the skin are oddly dry.
Gamzee finds those spots and applies the salve as thickly as he dares -- and then they're out, the small container emptied.

Thankfully, Karako, Chahut, and he only suffered minor injuries.
"We've passed the cloister." Kurloz addresses Karako, who looks as if he could go the rest of his life without seeing another Jadeblood.

"Those bitches wouldn't help us -- and we got Ampora to worry on, anyways." Gamzee responds, tossing the empty container right at Kurloz's face.

It hits him and he merely shuts his eyes, taking the hit.
Karako sounds like a deflating tire, careful of his arms.

 

Finally, Gamzee's attention shifts to Karkat -- and he wants to kick the mutant, break him into his components.

Why shouldn't he?

Any relationship they'd been building was swiftly torn asunder by that fucking Jadeblood.
"I -- " Before Gamzee can get out more than a word, Karako interjects.

"I told her." He's addressing Karkat, voice reverberating throughout the small caravan.

"I informed her of the consequences, but she insisted . Our hands were forced. Blame us all you want; you and her knew and know nothing of us but slander and blasphemy." His eyes thin. "I thought she'd be different. I thought she'd have the good sense to stay away from us." Karako finishes, going silent.

 

Gamzee looks at Karkat's back, then down to his purpling hands, and decides he'll take Karkat the next time they're alone -- and he'll do it again, and again, until his seed takes.

Exhausted, Gamzee still makes a small, soft pile for the twins; Baizli tries to rest on his stomach, while Barzum finds her left side to be the least painful. Then, he finally slumps down, eyes on the mutant's back.
He doesn't want to rape Karkat, but he knows Karkat hates him -- won't have him, won't try to understand him.

Gamzee tells himself it doesn't hurt.

 

*

 

Everything rings. He can't hear for shit, whatever voices there are sounds like they're coming through cotton and fluff over his ears. Numb, he is, can't even feel the eyes on his back, only how blood pushes hotly, almost feverish, through his system; if anyone were to touch him right now, it could be comparable to the sun that they've been burned by, maybe.

No, one voice reaches him, but only because when he twitches his head in the direction there's something glinting in his vision. Karkat's head turns like whiplash, the look on his face wholly unpleasant, unfitting when his face is meant to be the total opposite. Rage-red has bled out to his whole sclera now, pupils thinned so much the iris blends in, bleeding out in tears.

Anger wells up once he locates the source of the glint; by Karako's arm dangles a couple of signs on thin chains, Jade handprints smeared over the inside and outside of the robe's sleeve.

 

No one expects Karkat to move, nevermind so fast-- no one ever expects the mutant breeder who's physically incapable to be able to do anything -- but oh does he then, is he able to now, but he's right in Karako's face, snatching the signsakes of Virgo and Cancer so quick the chains break, gripping so hard that the signs might as well imprint into his bloodied palm.

"You took fucking trophies," it's not his voice that comes out, it's something else that snarls and rips his vocal boxes open. Something else that rears his arm across his body to backhand Karako; something shatters inside of his flesh but he's so numb he can't feel it, all of his aggro set on the troll in front of him even as he's dragged backward. Even as he's dragged away, the signs in his still good hand are clutched so tightly, no one is taking them from him.

 

*

 

Gamzee hauls Karkat up and backhands the troll, throwing him down hard.
He's not carrying, so what does a bit of violence matter? He has no sympathy or empathy for them, so what bridges does he have to burn?

That's his mentality, anyway, as Karkat's fragile body hits the ground.

"Give me those." He plants his foot on Karkat's stomach, applying just enough pressure to hurt .

Barzum can't see what's happening, and Baizli's too tired to get up.
Karako lifts his sleeves to check for any other miscellany that might've been shoved in there, but doesn't bother explaining himself to the mutant. It looks like this is the end for him, anyway; the end for all of them.

He's too tired to care.

 

"Give me those or I'll rip your head off and dump your body on the road." Gamzee says this as a fact, a clawed hand extended.

"This is your life now. That was just a bothersome Jadeblood, and those are worthless. Give them to me."

Briefly, Marvus thinks to speak up against killing Karkat -- but it's Gamzee's mate.

 

*

 

He's hit hard enough to feel it through the numbness, about to get back up because but Gamzee's foot pushes down on his middle, pushes hard that Karkat nearly can't breathe and there's pain and he can feel that. Writhing under and gasping, fangs grit and absolutely seething.

The rage-red is still in his eyes despite this, a bruise already dark on his face, and Karkat thinks of screaming for Gamzee to 'go a-fucking-head and do it', he will die and find his clademate in limbo and lead her wherever it is they need to be in the cosmos. And yet, some small, weak thing inside him utters voicelessly-- he doesn't want to die yet.

With a growing, vengeful roar, he smacks the signsakes into Gamzee's hands; he has a feeling that he's never going to get them back. Curling up once the foot is lifted off of his diaphragm, turning over so that he's cradling his probably broken, hopefully sprained hand, since he can feel it now.

 

*

 

Without so much as bothering to check the items in his hand, Gamzee chucks them out the back of the caravan.
The way Karkat curls up, like he's the exhausted, injured troll, makes Gamzee want to kick him -- and there's no reason not to do so.

He kicks Karkat once, twice; three times before Kurloz opens his mouth.
Gamzee hisses, and retires to a corner of the caravan, close to the front.

 

"Sister Chahut, make for the cloister." He calls, feeling them list to the left while he drowses.

The following night, the twins are nothing more than balls of agony. Their skin has soaked up the balm, but they're all raw, reeking of new-wriggler. Barzum sucks in a sharp breath at every jostle, while Baizli tries to hold still for his twin.

Marvus' hand is already peeling, a hideous slough of skin almost degloving itself; he and Kurloz briefly debate merely removing the flesh before Kurloz and Chahut switch drivers, and Chahut finally has her wounds inspected.
Her skin is peeling, tender to the touch, but the injury is minor; she'll be fine.

 

It takes them two days and two nights of exhausting, non-stop travel to reach the cloister, but, once they do, they file out in an orderly fashion -- what would be a calm, orderly fashion if Gamzee didn't have a clawed hand sunk into Karkat's arm.

 

The caverns are buzzing with life, and an older Jadeblood greets them with a smile -- a smile that quickly gives way to shock.

"What happened?!" For once, Chahut's presence goes largely ignored in favour of the bleary-eyed Barzum and her shuddering, sickly twin.
"We need rest. Could your cloister at least take Karako and the twins?" Gamzee asks, knowing it's against the law.

"One of your caste caused this. Barzum can hardly see. Be a boon if you'd take everyone else -- 'cept me and this one." He tugs Karkat close.

"We didn't get injured in the fight." A partial lie, but Bronya doesn't need to know all the specifics.
The Jadeblood worries a strand of her long hair for a moment, but it doesn't take her long to come to a conclusion. She launches into 'Head Jade' mode, clasping her hands before her.

"Of course! The twins and Karako will be periodically submerged in sopor, while everyone else will be treated with topical ointments!" Barzum and Baizli hardly seem to care where they are, but Karako gives a weak honk .

"It is nice to see you, too, Karako! I was worried about you! Not that there's anything to worry about, particularly, given that you're a healthy young troll! Now, I'll get my girls -- and Lanque -- to help out the weakest." She smiles, and Gamzee returns the expression with a drip of fatigue.

When the other Indigobloods have delved deeper into the caverns, Gamzee's chest deflates in a sigh.

"Maybe now we won't all perish." He mutters, looking at the caravan.
It'd be obvious if they left it out here -- although, none of the Jades are exactly weak . Lanque's formidable without so much as lifting a finger, and Lynera is... a lot.

 

Still, it'd be better if they didn't leave obvious clown junk right outside a cloister.
Without much conversation, Gamzee lifts Karkat into the caravan, grabs a satchel, and fills it only with the utmost priceless things; that old, black tome, some food, some water, his clubs, two suncloaks.

That's really it, and he hops out, taking Karkat with him.
A good slap on the ass sends the beasts fleeing, chittering to themselves.

"Time to go." He'd disguised himself as a Navyblood earlier in the night, now hooking his arm around Karkat to pull the mutant along.
Since the incident, Gamzee's not had any alone time with Karkat -- and he's been distant, cold. If the mutant gets on his nerves, he shows it through violence.

Sure, he makes certain Karkat was fed and given water, but there's a distinct lack of care now missing in the motions. A disregard for whether or not Karkat wants to be here -- because he knows Karkat would rather see him die, would rather die himself; would rather anything else.

 

*

 

If there's anything to be thankful for about being a breeder, it's the compensations it gives Karkat in return for being so weak. After being kicked while he's already down and hurting himself on Karako's face, the smack to his cheek, within those days and nights that he's stuck in that caravan with six injured and one of those six irate at him Indigobloods, his body tries and heals itself. The bruise on his face ishas already faded to a dark spot, his hand doesn't hurt as much but els a bit off, and where he'd been kicked is also faded down. His heart, however, can't heal, because it's not that kind of pain that his body can right, neither are the dark rings under his eyes.

Every time the twins cry out, Karkat hurts , but he doesn't dare move to them-- it's all his fault that they're hurting far worse, and if they tell him that to his face, Karkat will accept it.

He isn't starved, though Karkat doesn't know his feelings on that quite yet. If he does take food or drink, he only takes the smallest amount possible, enough to prolong him. Who could eat in a situation like this? How can he not want to retch everything when he feels so sick?

New bruises, new marks are made on him, especially when he does something that irritates Gamzee, or, more often, doesn't do what Gamzee wants him to do, does absolutely nothing. But, they fade quickly too his heart is the only thing that really stays hurting.

The caravan arrives at the cloister, everyone unloading off, Karkat being dragged by the arm. He can't stand to see the matron troll, or any of the busy Jades going about their duties in the caverns seeing Kanaya busy with her needlework, her asking him to get on her tailor's stand because she wants to see how something looks on him. Gamzee asks for the matron to take in at least Karako and the twins, if she can then everybody else, except for himself and Karkat, which strikes Karkat as strange.

Unceremoniously lifted into the caravan with Gamzee following after, Karkat doesn't bother watching him pack things into a satchel, despondent and listlessly looking around the area, not doing anything to have reason for Gamzee to strike him. Taken out again and his brows crease when Gamzee sets the beasts off running, confused for why. He doesn't get to question it long, since then a cool arm is around him and he's being pulled along Gamzee's long strides.

 

Why were they going like this?....was he taking Karkat to die somewhere? He's already been offered death twice, it's a toss-up if that's the case. His mouth opens, but even for a question, Karkat doesn't know-- or have anything --to say to him, and if he does, it's voiced almost too softly, "......you're hurt, too...."

 

*

 

"I hadn't noticed." Gamzee remarks, caustic; his hands burn and tingle, and he's been carefully peeling flakes of dead skin off in his spare time. The skin underneath is new, slightly tight, and more purple than grey.

Everyone had begun to peel, although they'd not plucked off the large swathes of skin from Barzum or Baizli -- who needed to drink most of their water just to keep breathing -- or degloving Marvus' hand. The skin is tender, wanting to rip open at the slightest irritation. For all they know, it'd cripple him.

The Jades, at least, have access to sopor and better medicine.

They can submerge Barzum and Baizli into vats of sopor slime, and allow Marvus to rest his hand in a shallow pool of it; everyone else should get by with topical applications.

The rest, he thinks, will do them good, too.

 

 

It's rare they've ever gotten to stay in one place for more than a night, the need for food or water or other necessities always pushing them from place to place.
If Gamzee can't be granted that mercy, he's ready to accept the alternative.

"Don't pretend you suddenly care about my motherfucking hands, you piece of woofbeast shit. You've been too busy feeling sorry for yourself to even notice the twins." He sneers, dragging Karkat along, not caring if the mutant can't match his quick pace.

"If you'll all call us fools and put pupae in danger, then we might as well live up to how motherfucking despicable you think we are." Gamzee doesn't look at Karkat as he speaks, but his grip is tight, on the verge of bruising.

"I thought you'd understand, but no ." He lets out a harsh, barking sound.

 

"Even a mutant's more welcome in The Empire than us. What a motherfucking joke. Real funny. I'll die of the laughter." They're near nothing but sand and craggy outcroppings of rock, but the night is young.
Gamzee only slows during descents, where Karkat could fall and hurt himself; he doesn't offer to carry the breeder. He doesn't fawn over the breeder. Gamzee does treat Karkat like all the stories, all the rumours, say he ought; as a thing beneath him.

 

If he'll be treated on those bases, and not what he's done, then there's no point in taking the difficult path.

 

*

 

He should never have made that wish, that plea to whatever gods o, deities, or cosmic entities t there. If Karkat knew what a path and pain it'd make him go through, he'd have just died there in the wedding hall, however it would have happened.

"Why didn't you stay then?" It pierces, when Gamzee throws the twins back at him; Karkat loved them-- does love them, even though they must hate him too. Everything else, every other harsh word, Karkat just takes it, it doesn't hurt him as much.

But now what? Now, it's looking more and more like Gamzee's taking him somewhere to off him, they've come out to sand and sharp jagged formations of rock. He can't quite keep pace, having to be almost dragged along where it doesn't look or feel like they'll slip and fall, or where Karkat will at least. Perhaps he should.....it's not impossible, if he just misses a step, by pure accident, then he doesn't need to worry about where they're going, does he?

 

.....Hah, it's another chance that death is offering him, and still Karkat can't take the offer, what an idiot. What a dumb, naïve troll he is, having his head stuck in cloud dreams like this could have been one of his books.

 

*

 

"I forgot, you all think we're dumb as bricks, too." Gamzee mutters, hauling Karkat along.

"Ampora's after you . You stay in the caverns, he finds us. He'd step on grubs, the twins; whoever and whatever. Just like us. " He hisses the last statement but is almost certain Karkat could care less.
He keeps dragging Karkat along through the rocky area, then into a forested area.
By the time he's dragged them through to the other side, it's daylight, and too hot for him to want to do much of anything.

He pushes Karkat down roughly, and seats himself.

From his satchel, he tosses Karkat some dried grubmeat, and a vial of water. Gamzee doesn't take anything for himself.

"Eat then sleep." He says, pulling out his clubs; for Ampora, or any daytime creatures that might bother them.

 

*

 

"That's not what I meant," Karkat says sharply, but it doesn't matter; it doesn't strike the way previous words do. Small cuts and scrapes form along his legs from the sharper bits of outcroppings that get through his borrowed trousers, but Karkat's not worried about those at all, it's fine, those he can heal from. The rocks become scarce as sand turns to dirt, Gamzee pulling him along into the woods too.

Day doesn't seep through the trees, the leaves too thick for light to really come through; but the heat does, making the air muggy and irritating for the both of them. Falling flat on his ass from a push and sitting up once his flesh doesn't ache at him for it, Gamzee tossing food and drink to him. Karkat still doesn't have the desire to eat, taking only a piece of dried grub before tying the cloth back up, only enough water to parch his throat.

Gamzee has his clubs in hand, and Karkat thinks if he's got a mind to smash his head in, then that's it. Even so, he doesn't sleep, even shifting against a tree, something to lean on, his eyes won't close. He hasn't really slept since that day, and if he falls asleep now it's with his eyes blankly open.

 

*

 

The day passes uneventfully, and Gamzee's hauling Karkat up the moment dusk settles.

 

They round the walls of a large city, keeping their distance; the perks of travelling in a small group on foot. No one notices them, and they don't have to stick to the paths.

Occasionally, Gamzee stops to look at the stars, before continuing on.
It's like that for a long time. Gamzee's not sure how long. He keeps out of cities and off roads, praying at dawn and dusk.

 

Everything blurs together into irritants and non-irritants -- because if he thinks too much, he'll wonder about everyone else, feel how his pusher wants to constrict.

 

It isn't fair .
None of this is fair .

Just one caste up and he'd be royalty -- one caste down and he'd still be better off than spending his life trekking through the lands -- and he knows no one will understand. They're fools , after all. All of them.

He tries to keep the two of them clean, but he never follows streams or rivers, preferring lakes -- so, by the time they're on the outskirts of where this all started, the canopy above protecting them from the harsh rays of day, they look semi-presentable.

 

Not that it should matter beyond getting him into the city.

 

Gamzee releases Karkat, wiping his hand off on his tunic.
He'd not touched Karkat like he had before -- there's no desire to touch something that can't comprehend him. It'd be comparable to fucking a beast, and he'd rather not.

"Stay here -- or don't." He sloughs off his bag, pulling out a suncloak.

"Kurloz'll make a much better successor than me, but I can help him out before I go." He talks like he doesn't expect Karkat to listen or respond, because he doesn't.

"Y'know, for all everyone hyped up how much burning hurts, I ain't so sure I'd mind it." He shrugs on the cloak, grabbing his clubs from the pack.
If he lifts the suncloak just enough to show his navy tunic, there should be little reason to question him -- and a good, high colour like that will get him a lot of places. Otherwise, he can stick to the harsh shadows.

It isn't as if he's aiming to kill Ampora - he'd be surprised if Ampora were still here - but he wants Ampora to return to a bloodbath. His court smeared in blood.

 

Gamzee's already accepted that he'll probably die in the process, but traveling with Karkat has been nothing but misery and agony past the first two nights. He won't make a good successor, and Kurloz won't cull him, so he should just die.

Notes:

I'd like to make something clear, as there are others reading.

If you are being abused in a relationship, you have no obligation to stay and should leave. There is no reason to endure pain and allow yourself to be hurt by someone else or for someone else, no reason to be hurt on behalf of someone else. If the scales are uneven and cannot become even, there are no excuses.

The themes and situations here are fictional and have been puppeteered and crafted by my self and the friend I am hoping to reach, and thus it only works in such a way. By no means are these things that are condoned irl.

Please be safe.

Chapter 11: Mourning Acceptance

Notes:

Like I said, we had a bleeping Time™.

I mean, we got better, lolol.

This section is likely a little short, and that's because I felt that's where it should cut off to make sense and make a chapter. Out of all of our chats, this one I think had the most emotional impact. We did really well in, eventually coming back from the low point.

Under Karkat's eyes, it's obvious that even if and when they rest, he isn't resting. They're back at it again when he's dragged up by Gamzee, pulled along to continue going wherever the fuck they're going-- thinking that if he was going to be culled, Gamzee probably could have done it already, they were far away enough from the cloister and everyone to do so...unless they weren't?

Fine , then.

He lets himself be hauled all the way through the forest, even passing along the walls of a city that they don't enter. It is days and nights that they are on foot (it is four days and nights), making rare stops at whatever small lake they happen to find. Gamzee doesn't speak to him unless it's to tell him to get up, eat, sleep, wash, like Karkat's an idiot who wouldn't know to do any of that without being told; or maybe to make sure he does instead of doing nothing like in the caravan, whether Gamzee actually cares or not that he does.

 

Karkat comes to realize that they've come full-fucking-circle-jerk back to the place where this all started, an entire reach-around, how about that. Ampora's palace is visible like the gaudy eyesore that it is beyond the city walls, Karkat wondering why they're here. What, was Gamzee going to hand him back to fish-fucker?? Or make a show of killing Karkat in front of him, well, if he didn't already leave, only just thinking about it. Or perhaps just kill Ampora-- that Karkat doesn't mind, that's always a reasonable option.

It's when Gamzee says ' stay here or don't ', like after dragging Karkat all this way he suddenly doesn't care if he's there or not, doesn't matter if Karkat's going to wait for him or not-- oh but it fucking matters when his clademate is that worried about him that she comes after them, and no one wants to give Karkat a chance to solve the situation himself-- no one even wants to give him a straight- fucking -answer that he doesn't have to pluck words out to make sense of --since it has to do with him , since it's Karkat's business, instead making it into a ' someone has to fucking die right the fuck now and it's all of us or them ' thing, when no one even tried to find a better resolution-- he could have made Kanaya listen, could have told her that that he was fine and he wanted to stay, that maybe he could have asked for some way to visit her in their village, like Karako's cloister or Chahut's Navy friend, but nOoOoOo , fuck the possibility of there ever being another way than death; speaking of he's still got something to do about that.

 

Karkat feels a sense, a bristle of dread, though it's quickly covered by quiet irritation. "..What are you going to do?" From how he's speaking, it sounds an awful lot like he's preparing to die, especially when he mentions Kurloz retaking place as successor.

 

. . . . . . . Who the fuck said Gamzee could die? After putting him through all of that, from the beginning of going through the trouble to crash his shitty wedding and run off with him, bringing him to meet the rest of his troupe, his cladehis family, and bit by bit showing Karkat how much more likeable he could be than being married to a fish how Karkat did start to like him, to feel something for him, how actually vulnerable Gamzee is how much of an overgrown pupa he truly was, and then not only killing Karkat's clademate Karkat's family, ruining anything that had been built up but then also getting upset and irate at him for it-- threw their fucking signs out of the caravan, literally beating him up about it the whole way to the cloister.

 

And now the asshole wants to die ?

Fuck that.

 

Karkat abruptly steps in front of him, narrowed eyes and quiet rage. Lips pursed tightly as he pushes Gamzee back, at least tries his best to, away from the burn of the suns rays, dangerously close to his own back, away from looming city walls and it's ugly castle and more into the woods. "Let's go , come with me," at protests and raised voice Karkat snarls, " You fucking dragged me back to this hellhole in the last four nights, you can damn well fucking handle an hour or two. " Grunting heavily, because there's no way Karkat can make him budge by himself, Gamzee has to move at least a bit, " Just do this one thing for me, please ??" Karkat even picks up the satchel to sling around his body before going back to shoving Gamzee with all he has until he makes some progress with a scuffed step.

 

*

 

“Why should I?” His voice is even and flat, exhausted and used-up.

“I did plenty for you. More than I should’ve. A motherfucker got it up in his thinkpan that he could have something, and forgot what caste he be.” What should be laced with venom is instead dry, dull; like he’s stating a fact.
Gamzee thought Karkat could be his mate willingly, integrate into the caravan naturally; he forgot his position.

He’s a boogeyman. A terror. A blight upon proper trolls.

Him and his kind roam Alternia, features obscured in greasepaint; they believe in something more than The Empire and The Empress.

 

Maybe they need to, since it’s nearly a universal fact that they’re not to be trusted.

 

“I don’t want your words. You don’t understand. You could’ve understood, but the time for that’s past.” His pain is clear under the thin veneer of complacency, but no one bothers to delve beneath that — not unless they mean to scold him, dig the hole in his thoracic cavity ever deeper.

“There’s a second suncloak. Do with it what you will. I’m exhausted of this realm. The Mirthful Messiahs await me with open arms.” He tries for a chuckle, and produces a wheeze instead.

“Really thought... Doesn’t matter what I thought.” His shoulders shift, and he lodges a club between them, putting some breathing room between their bodies. “I got some royalty to cull. You done, or you gonna call me a stupid wriggler who don’t know nothing?”

 

*

 

A a r r g h, Karkat could r a g e right about now, "Yeah, you have. A motherfucker could also get some things out of his thinkpan sometime." He isn't stopping, he's stubborn as hell like that; Gamzee may not want his words, but that's all Karkat has.

"Fucking great. It's gonna stay in the bag for now," Karkat's about to move around him to pull when the club comes up, undoing anything he has to give himself some leverage-- now that's just rude and unfair. "Well they can wait a little longer-- your Messiahs owe me." They do, for divining Gamzee to come get him while at the same time, Karkat hazards a guess, hearing his wishing plea that only moments after Gamzee came crashing in through the hall's painted window.

Karkat comes around, although it seems he's having much less luck with pulling than pushing, "If it stays in your head and never leaves your mouth, then yeah, your thoughts won't matter to anyone but you, so nobody else but you knows what's up." He's tiring out, but he can't, not yet, going back around to push. "Hell no, I ain't done. And if you're gonna keep acting like one then that's on you-- but at least do this last thing for me. It'll take much shorter than it did to get here and after you can cull all the star-damned gill-breathers you want until you're covered in Violet."

 

*

 

“ Stop !” Gamzee snaps, dropping his clubs, reaching up to grip Karkat’s wrists tightly.

“Stop with all this ‘tough love’ bullshit ! It makes me feel like shit, Karkat!” He pushes the troll away, then backs away himself, glad his face can’t be seen.
“You wanna know what’s in my head?” He bends to pick up his clubs, gathering them beneath the suncloak.

“Endless hatred for that Jade. The Messiahs could spend an Empress’ lifetime tormenting her, and it wouldn’t be enough. We told her to stop! Karako told her to stop! Barzum’s motherfucking blinded because of her, and the rest of us suffered; we’re hungry, thirsty, exhausted — but do you think she’d cared about that for even an iota of a fucking second?! No! No one would! We’re ‘bad’ and so we’re meant to suffer while you all grow fat and complacent in your fucking villages!” Gamzee’s snarling, shoulders shaking.
“I thought we could be something, but that Jade forced our hand. You’ll never see it that way.” He murmurs, still shaking — and he doesn’t know if it’s in grief or rage or a mixture of both.

“Go home. Go away. I don’t want your words — more of the same caustic shit what’s been handed to me my whole life. Don’t you dare get close to me and scold me. Don’t you dare .” Subtly, Gamzee wraps his arms around himself.
It’s something he remembers doing as a wriggler in washed-out memories, chirping for a Lusus that wouldn’t come.

 

Back then, it offered no comfort, and Gamzee feels nothing more than his nails digging into his arms.

 

*

 

"Then how am I supposed to show you!?" His voice breaks halfway through, and so does Karkat, tears that should have dried up somehow find a new reservoir inside him. Frustrated at Gamzee, that he just can't seem to get through; frustrated at himself for not being able to.

Karkat is pushed away and even his bullheaded stubbornness can't get him to get back at it. He's blaming Kanaya, for chasing them down and making everyone suffer for it-- Karkat's not going to make it less than it was, not going to sugarcoat it in his head to make himself feel better, because that's essentially what happened, "You couldn't even give me a chance-- you're not giving me one now..," everything is brimming up to his mind, so many things to say that want to come out all at once, not all of them Gamzee wants to hear (but he needs to, like Karkat needs to from him), "You don't want my words, but I need yours to even try, how can I even understand anything...," It feels like finally, after walking all of that way, his legs are trying to collapse under him, that this is what pulls him down at last.

"..I thought..," his throat stops up at the words. Karkat swallows, tries again to get something out, "I-- felt....like we were..becoming something-- At the market, I wanted to do well, so I could show you that I could, because you were making so much effort that I wanted to-- to reciprocate." This kind of confession, he should be his usual, flustered, embarrassed self to say such words, but it comes out so easily now in such a moment, after so much has happened. It also makes him feel that much more exhausted, like putting something heavy down and needing a moment to breathe after. "....I need help to understand anything, Gamzee..."

 

*

 

“ We were .” He hisses, nails digging deeper into his own biceps.

“It was going to be a good night, a good day; enough caegers to get what we need and more. Then, that bitch shows her ugly head — and we try to outrun her, try to tell her to stop , but she backed us into a motherfucking corner! For what!? If she’d use her ocular globes in the market, she’d have seen you’re fine ! I didn’t have a frond on you! Your ass could’ve run itself away at any time!” The taste of loss is still bitter on his tongue, flavouring his words.

Gamzee dips his head, his long, lanky figure nearly disappearing inside the cloak.
“I know we’re used as daytime stories to keep wrigglers and pupae from wandering off. I know heretical texts have been inscribed with secondhand accounts — inaccurate accounts — of our deeds. You read a history of a caste not written by the caste. You say we choose to live off violence when it’s the only option if we want to live.” He turns his head, able to see Karkat through the thick material.

“You’d forgive her but, Karkat, Karako told her, back here, to stay away. Karako told her to stay away when she attacked us . Karako beheaded her because, even though he thinks of Jadebloods as kind and caring, that one had no understanding for us.” He’s tired, and it reflects in his voice; emotionally, physically, mentally.
Gamzee turns away again, facing the ground.

“Barzum was burned and blinded. Baizli, too. I had to kick him under the caravan, out of the Sun. Chahut’s arm was peeling. Karako — his arms were blistered and peeling and you thought to harm him when none of us had laid a frond on you.” His nails dig deeper, finally piercing through skin, into deeper tissue.

“I had to take care of everything and everyone. Your chance was in understanding our circumstances, that we had no choice ; you hit my Brother, instead, so I hit you.” His voice lowers. “Now, we’re without transport. The Jades wouldn’t stand a chance against more than one Violetblood, and I’m surprised they offered their good graces to everyone.” His voice evens out, now.

“Brother Kurloz has always been cold and unwelcoming. You’d be carrying his offspring by now, were you his mate. He’d not have spared the Jadeblood. None of this would’ve happened — so, that’s why.” He’s glad for the suncloak covering him.

“I’m too soft. Too weak. If Brother Kurloz won’t cull me, I need to dispose of myself.” He hesitates, draws breath.

“Are you closer to understanding?”

 

*

 

"No, I'm not!," Karkat sobs in frustration, "I know all of those stories and what they say. Have I given you reason to think that was something I was afraid of? Going from one captor to another, of course I was cautious because I didn't know what to expect from you!" He takes a shuddering breath, wondering if there would be any way through; this is only making things hurt more. "...I had so many more chances than the market to run away, but I didn't take any of them because I wanted to trust your words."

"I don't know what parts of history you're talking about, or what you think I've read. The only bit about your caste's history I do know is that the Empress scattered you, daytime stories aside. Whatever great texts or accounts you think I've read, sorry to disappoint you but I haven't." Karkat's getting tired of this circle, since there seems to be no ending unless it's letting Gamzee fuck off to paint Ampora's city with noble blood.

 

Would he even come back? Would he even care if Karkat stayed and waited for him? He already knows it's his fault everyone is burned and hurting, but he doesn't know if Gamzee even wants his apology-- his apology can't even make up for what's happened, everyone is hurt and Kanaya is dead, both are his fault even though it's Karako who killed her; he took his Jade, shouldn't Karkat take his? It'd only be fair?, what on this world can make up for that?

 

"Can you even answer this? Why did she have to die? What were you all so afraid of that you had to go so far, if she's just a Jadeblood bitch." Karkat's bitterness comes out slow, the one question that no one had given a straight answer to. Even more leaks out as he continues, "Would Chahut go that far for you? For the twins? Come after you because as far as she's concerned you've been taken? Them?" It stings to think of them, but his point probably won't even make it across. "She was my Chahut. She has been there since I hatched and since I pupated, even if she's only a couple of sweeps beyond me."

 

He's tired of this, and he has something to do. "...If you're not going to come with me, then go. Come find me when...if you come back. Or don't. Whatever you want to do." Karkat is curt with his words, sharp and short, but no real venom. It's probably better that he's alone for a bit, looking on the ground for something big enough, a dried, fallen branch that he has to hold with both hands. Drawing a short but obvious line through the dirt in the direction he's walking, back into the wood; somewhere through there they passed a pond, not too far from where they are now.

 

*

 

"Then, I can't help you." Gamzee gets to his feet, turning the direction of the city and its gaudy castle.

 

Three Nights Later...

 

A dark lump drags itself along the muddy banks, cloak soaked in every colour of blood -- sans Fuchsia.
Gamzee picks a spot at random and sits, feeling more blood seep from his wounds.

 

Bullets don't hurt nearly as much as stabbing, eviscerating, or burning.

 

He has a bag with him, also soaked through with blood.

"Karkat...?" He doesn't expect the mutant to have waited three days for him.

 

If everything Karkat's said is correct, then his village is nearby; surely, he'd go back. Even without Kanaya, he'd go back.

Notes:

I think this needs saying once again: If you are in a relation, and it's just not getting better, there's no working through things, there's no way out of the circle, it's just simply not getting better, there's no reason or obligation to stay. I'm in no way any such expert to say these things, but I've gathered enough common sense through life to know at the very least this much.

To you, and everyone else: Please be safe.

Chapter 12: Reflection

Notes:

As I said, it got kinda better. We made it on getting some form of recovery and it paid off. This was also around the time you introduced me to the term 'bussy' (breeder pussy) and it took the hell off, it was a staple word in our memery

He doesn't even deign Karkat with an answer-- just a straight fucking answer that isn't absolutely cryptic would be so fucking nice --, just turns his ass around and goes on to the city under the sunlight. If he wants to take as many with him as he can on his suicidal, genocidal break, then he's more than fucking welcome to, see if Karkat cares.

 

If he's even still here when he gets back, however long that takes-- if Gamzee comes back at all.

♋

Karkat trudges on through the woods, but not without doing anything useful. He's by himself, and living in a village of foragers, hunters, farmers-- in general trolls from most walks of life --has taught him some things; he's smarter than the average village bumpkin after all.

 

...Well, even though how things turned out is kind of showing him how much he isn't.

 

But Karkat isn't just dumbly walking by. He's got the bag, doesn't he? This area has a bunch of stuff to pick up, and Karkat collects almost whatever he finds. Surprised to find some herbs and plants for medicine-- Kanaya knew how to make salves and balms, medicine , better than Karkat ever could, he doesn't know if he can compare --, alongside other useful, edible things, other things he can use. He's at least going to be here for the day and night, and perhaps another; he has a funeral rite to do for Kanaya.

 

Since no one is here to prevent him from doing so-- no one to hit him, or glare or just be irritated with his presence, Karkat's going to fucking do as he likes. He wonders if Purple has anything like that, rituals to help others pass on.

Rituals to cleanse the cling of death, because death has a tendency to follow.

At the pond, Karkat can't believe he's lucky enough to find a plant with long, fleshy leaves, direly needed for burn aid and healing, something good for once....if the twins were here he'd be gingerly rubbing the cold insides of the leaf into everywhere they'd been burned, everywhere they ached.

Karkat laughs something sad and short, as if they'd let him and his own searing flesh put a frond on them ever again.

It's got a slab of rock at the edge, above the water, a large, flattened stump that looks usable for what he wants to do, but that's sort of it. The water itself is cool, pleasant when there's still sun making the air hot, surprisingly not stagnant, like perhaps it could be a spring if it weren't by itself. It's good for drinking and Karkat refills the water skins in Gamzee's bag, having been on the verge of depletion, set on the rock slab to dry. Walking around to the other side, Karkat suspects it's shallow, enough to stand in. The clothes on him need some washing, and so does he before he can do anything for Kanaya's rite.

For the first time in a while, Karkat strips completely. The day makes it warm enough that he isn't shivering, setting his clothes close to the edge and cautiously wading in-- only to find out after several confident steps that beyond that is much deeper than it looks. Sputtering as he resurfaces, shaken a little hard to get much more shook up than the week he's had and panting as he returns closer to the edge. Karkat's cleaner than he's been the past week from travel, sweat, and general grime, and soon his tunic and borrowed pants are laying out on the slab as well.

♋

First things first, after sorting out the bag and everything he's collected that book is in there, it must be important to Gamzee for some reason that he didn't leave it behind, Karkat puts on the suncloak, just for decency-- just because he's by himself in the woods in the daylight doesn't mean he can just walk around naked --, finding two decently hand-shaped rocks from the more gravelly part of the pond and seeing if he can't make one of them sharp. Taking his crudely formed, practically primitive knife and scraping the top of the trunk, hoping to make it a little smoother surface to work on. Carves Kanaya's sign as best as he can, scratching away at the wood until the grooves are deep enough to make the shape obvious. Adding his own in a smaller, imperfect scrape, to show that he was there and did it for her.

Gamzee has some things in the bag for when he prays, but Karkat doesn't use them, just in case the other returns and decides to complain of ' taint ' on his holy things, and Karkat's sort of tired of dealing with being miserable wonders if Gamzee would have followed divine revelation if it also showed that it would lead to misery. No, he does it on his own, finding the thinnest sticks he can and twining herb-weed around it, things that will have a scent to them when they burn, since he can't make proper incense right there. Picking up a small, flat slate of rock, probably only a quarter of the size of the stump and placing it atop the carving, tying the sticks together and arranging them on top. With some luck and his crude knife, Karkat makes something spark, again and again, until the ends are lit to an ember, the dry stick making sure it burns and the wet weed making sure it goes slowly.

 

He's never been one to pray, but he remembers the words the elders use and to be reverent while he does so. Quietly murmuring words that no one hears, save for him and hopefully Kanaya. Only breaking down into pathetic sobbing after the first line, "In the name of the Irons ...."

♋

Karkat sleeps in the suncloak, putting most things back into the bag and using that for his head, sleeping through the rest of the day. By some point later into the night his clothes are dry, and the incense burnt to ash, his eyes puffy and reddened from tears, finally able to grieve properly after bawling like a grub. Sniffling and putting together another few sticks to burn while he's there. He'd even tried to sing for her-- she always said she loved hearing him when Karkat felt like doing such a thing, so much easier to shout and ramble than make his voice soft and lovely, so it was rare that he did it. But half of the words he forgets, just humming to a tune that loses meaning.

Gamzee isn't back yet, though Karkat isn't really waiting for him either. He re-dresses with the tunic, but looks disdainfully at the pants. Karkat's sure he isn't going to see Karako again, isn't going to forgive him either, at least mostly sure but still, so there's no reason to keep them to return. Or in the same shape. After pretty much a week walking around in them, it'd been uncomfortable as hell. He flattens them out on the slab and hacks at the legs with his knife, toward the top of where his thighs would be; the rest of the legs can be used for something else, bandages maybe? Or just cloth pieces, or he'll think of some other use for them.

Now turned into shorts, it's easier to walk around in, tying the leather piece at the middle of the tunic; if no one looked at his eyes, he'd still make a convincing Oliveblood. For this night, Karkat gathers up loose debris and stuff for firewood, wondering how far really it might be to his village, and if he was ready to make the trek on foot...or hitch a ride-- but that's risky, and he's had enough of those for a hot minute too.

♋

The next day is too hot, even with the canopy above, Karkat hardly feels like moving at all, though the same can be said for sleeping. There are times that he wants to just dunk himself in the pond to stave off the heat, instead flicking water over himself. It's obviously not a great day to think about traveling; neither is the night, Karkat hearing sounds that reach him from further in, sitting up against the slab with his crude knife in hand. Even if it does him no good, it's something.

He wonders if he stays there long enough if he'll meet a fairy-- there are tons and tons of stories and such, and one of the Nitram boys used to be obsessed with them, probably still is though. Karkat's met one before, from such a long, long time ago, playing by himself in the woods, just barely learned to speak words instead of grub sounds that only his Lusus knows; pale, troll-shaped, and silvery from their head to toe.

He's met a horrorterror too. Both got him told that it was only a dream.

♋

A third day and night pass, Karkat not doing much of anything besides making a camp that says ' just one more night and then I'll go ', stockpiling whatever he finds. Harvested the fleshy leaf stalks that'd make good healing and burn salve, now just burning time with watching from the slab as a new incense stick embers away on his makeshift shrine, kind of half hanging off of it and above the water, feeling drowsy despite the time, but he can do that since he's by himself-- amazing how he's not been set upon by a beast yet, when he's sure his sugar scent must be all over the area by now, leading back to him like a beacon; now that is probably a good reason to start on his journey, he should absolutely go soon.

 

Hearing his name startles him-- hearing another voice that isn't his own makes him jump and chirp, jarred from sleep and having rolled right into the pond like a dolt.

 

Gamzee ??

Either yeah or Karkat's absolutely hearing voices and stuff now and has gone nutso in the head. He's not sure yet which he prefers.

Karkat is soaked now but he's only in the shallows, standing up quickly even though the thin fabric sticks and clings to his body while wet, leaving little to the mind. Swallowing thickly to clear his throat from disuse as he sees barely a lump of a troll just a few paces from the pond, crossing through the shallow water up to his calves.

He's covered in blood, possibly gore too. A veritable rainbow if he weren't missing Tyrian, oozing more Indigo than anything. " Shit ," Karkat can barely believe the sight, how it looks like someone's gone and went through the trouble of poking holes all through his torso, various cuts and nasty bruises. Gamzee's already sitting but Karkat would rather not have him on the ground, urging him back up to lay over the slab, Karkat seeing his wounds clearer. ".. dammit , Gamzee...," He tries for pulling off pieces of his clothes that come off easy, the Navy vest more or less shredded with holes and falling apart, Karkat shuddering a gasp for the wounds, looking like they've gone straight through him, in one way and back out; bullets .

"Just-- Just stay still!. Try not to move!" Indigo even begins to spill and spread over the slab, Karkat grabbing his sharp rock, the still uncut pant legs, and some of the herbs he'd put together. Tearing up the cloth to bandage strips and stuff, dipping into the pond to get as much blood off of him as possible-- if he'd stop bleeding from every which way.

 

*

 

Whoever had started the rumours that Indigobloods can't be discreet are absolute, bold-faced liars .

The caste dominates duality, after all; when they need to cause a scene, they cause a scene; when they need to merge with the shadows, they merge with the shadows.
It was easy to get past the city guards, flashing his Navy tunic and speaking in a low, refined register. It was just as easy to slip into the palace under the heavy day-shadows.

Eridan wasn't around, as much as Gamzee skulked throughout the halls, but his blood-brother was an obvious, easy find.
A refined seadweller; Prince before King even when Eridan holds the proper right. Gamzee doesn't know the reasoning for it, but thinks it must have something to do with the elder Violetblood's habit of soliciting any and all trolls.

Lowbloods spent the day with him out of fear. Middlebloods spent the day with him in hopes of gaining status. Highbloods managed to hold him off with banter and quadrant-adjacent flirting.
In the pristine halls, Gamzee waited. He'd peer from the day-shadows for hours , until his eyes stung and his body reminded him to sleep -- but never for more than an hour or two.

It was during the third day he finally took the Violetblood's head -- but not without a fight.

Unlike Eridan, Cronus has his fangs. The first bullet to pierce Gamzee was an odd sensation; a push through his flesh, like a blade, but there was a following emptiness. No foreign body. It took three shots for his stupefied body to move and then he felt it in his head and --

 

A hallucination, possibly brought on by his nervous system.

 

That didn't stop Gamzee from leaping off the polished floor, getting close enough to start swinging a pilfered blade at Cronus' neck.
That wasn't what he wanted, though.

 

A few came over to bother him; Navies, Ceruleans, Teals; even a Goldblood.
After dealing with all of those, Gamzee chased Cronus out into the palace gardens -- he'd never, in his life, seen such curated beauty -- and held him down, fingers digging into the gills in the other troll's neck.

While Cronus fired into Gamzee's abdomen, Gamzee cut through his head; the revolving thump , the rock of his body as another projectile blasts through him, stopped when Gamzee wedged his stolen blade between the spinal column, flicked his wrist, and swiftly ended Cronus' life.

Bagging his head and running took hardly any time at all -- even if his measurement of time has been off.
The trees above him make him think he must be on the road, but he's soaked -- blood, probably.

His head feels foggy, and he chuckles.

"Hush, Karkat," he sounds placated, reaching up -- missing twice before his bloody palm lands on Karkat's cheek, "hush, it don't hurt none. I ain't gonna die." He thinks he's already died, maybe more than once -- maybe he won't remember this, won't remember staring down a barrel while the trigger was pulled and he was briefly two instead of one.
His fingers trail the rounded softness of Karkat's cheek, and he pulls in a long, slow breath.

"Got you a gift. An apology." Gamzee sits up, his cold blood oozing freely.

"A promise." He slips off the rock slab, head spinning for a moment; he kneels in front of Karkat, head bowed.

Cronus' severed head, crown included, is held aloft; an offering for Karkat.

 

"I'll bring you Eridan Ampora's head next time. A proper gift for a proper mate."

 

*

 

" It don't hurt -- I bet . Say all of that after you stop bleeding," Karkat admonishes, hand on Gamzee's wrist as cool bloodied palm cups his cheek; Gamzee hasn't touched him gently since the incident and Karkat's sure normally he wouldn't-- shouldn't --let him touch him at all after all of that, but maybe it's because he's hurt and Karkat's a big sucker right now.

He sounds a lot less upset than when he left, smearing what Karkat is sure is more blood over his cheek with careful fingers, almost leaning into it. Chirruping while trying and failing to keep Gamzee from sitting up, can't stop him from sliding off to his knees. It's sweet and all that he wants to apologize with whatever it is that he's brought but he's bleeding the fuck out and Karkat's more worried about that than anything, brows creased and--

Karkat is frozen on the spot, looking back at a pair of literal violet fish eyes, words and noise choked and blocked in his throat, "............O h...," what does come out comes out as a high wheeze, gone a little pale and nodding his head slowly, "Oh...okay...that-that's a head," not just any head, it's an older Eridan-- Cronus Ampora's head, still managing to be handsome in the sleaziest way, that's being presented to him. Gamzee says it's both an apology and a promise and Karkat can get that, can feel-- hopefully feel right --that it's meant to be a sweet gesture from him, just.....that's a fucking bloodied head, the blood isn't even finished bleeding.

But, but, on the other hand, if Karkat looks at it differently, that's one less bothersome asshole seadweller prince to worry about and the promise of taking Ampora's head makes two bothersome assholes down. Stars but can Karkat think of it like that good enough to ignore the bleeding head.

"Al...alright. Y'know, some people just say 'I'm sorry', or even find less bloody gifts. But," he huffs a short laugh, cracking half a smile even, "...Can I accept your apology and promise?" He gingerly takes the crown off of Elder Ampora's head, rinsing it off with pond water so it's considerably less bloody, glances to Gamzee, "...This is one of those things I'm gonna need some help from you about; is there something specific I'm supposed to do with the head?" Oh stars he hopes not, Karkat's barely managing now-- well, unless Gamzee tells him to punt it as far as he can then that's sickening but definitely doable.

 

*

 

The Indigoblood doesn't move, doesn't lift his head, even as he feels the one in his hands lighten -- the crown, then.

Worth triple its weight in caegers, inlaid with a hefty and valuable stone, Gamzee knows they could -- he could -- get everyone out of the caverns, back into the caravans. Reclaim their supplies, buy what was lost; thank the cloister.

That crown doesn't belong to him, however.
He blinks slowly, lids heavy.

"Whether a brother accepts the apology or not ain't up to my decisions." Gamzee murmurs -- and if he had the blood for it, he'd flush.
Initially, Gamzee shakes his head, thoughts cloudy. Like he might slip away if not for that pervasive, comforting scent keeping him here.

"I'm kneeling." He says, as if it weren't obvious.

"If a motherfucker deigns to forgive me and all my transgressions, then he allows me to stand. If a motherfucker deigns to reject me, then... he culls me." Gamzee lowers his head further, exposing the vulnerable nape of his neck.

"That's how it's supposed to go, but I know you ain't one to dirty yourself like that, mate-to-be... Karkat." Mate-to-be still feels right, sits well in his mouth, but there's an obvious shame to him.
"Ain't been treating you all proper, have I?" At least he had the sense not to take his clubs to Karkat, but that doesn't say much.

"It hurt. I hurt. I..." Gamzee holds the head close, his eyelids finally falling shut.

"I'm sorry. For hurting you. That Jade, too. Possibly could've been handled different but you're mine and I was scared you'd choose her and go back." His lids flutter, trying to open; Gamzee's begun to slur, almost keeling over.

"'M yours. You're mine, righ'...?" He pulls in a spidery breath, sleep -- or exhaustion -- tugging at the threads of his mind.

 

*

 

That crown looks like it'd sell for a helluva lot more than some cheap gems. Karkat's never held anything more.... regal -looking in his life. Ampora gaudy , yeah, but definitely worth some caegers. Who'd buy it though, without worrying about being blamed for treason?

(For some reason, Kanaya's Cerulean friend who always visits her shop keeps popping up like an annoying thought-- because she swindled Karkat when he was minding the shop but now he knows better than to let her get away with it --, but she's not even en route to visit their village this time of the season.)

 

He's kneeling, that's true, Karkat's features becoming somber as he listens, even more as Gamzee suggests that Karkat kills him if he doesn't forgive him, showing him the back of his neck. Karkat doesn't think he could and Gamzee already knows that, leaving him to read between the lines that he'd kill himself the rest of the way if he didn't. He hasn't been called ' mate-to-be for a while and Karkat feels an old fondness for it, making some of the solemness lift off his face.

 

Finally, making his heart clench, Gamzee gives him a straight answer with his apology-- that's really all he wanted well, he wanted to resolve things himself so that no one suffered but , just a reason why and what for, finally getting it. Even for striking him, Gamzee apologizes, genuine contrite and maybe that's because he's still bleeding out and on the verge of passing out or dying but it's real and that's all Karkat wanted .

"You're.....really..," Karkat can hardly find the words-- no, he still has tons of words, he just wants to say all of them at once and most of them aren't the right ones; saying Gamzee is really the most overgrown wriggler he's ever met, how dumb he is for thinking that and not even considering to ask Karkat for help or his own thoughts, coming up with his own ideas in his head. He even apologizes for Kanaya, and it won't bring her back but the fact he's apologizing at all, explaining himself and showing his insides-- letting Karkat in , that much Karkat can appreciate-- an explanation is all he'd been asking for.

 

"Yeah, yeah I'm yours , you bloody idiot...," Karkat sobs, can't hold it in, words and then tears leaking through until he's heaving, part grief, because they didn't have to go through any of that, part release of that grieving and sadness, "You went through all this unnecessary fucking trouble for me so yeah I'm yours ." Gamzee looks like he's seriously going to pass out, Karkat dropping the crown-- tearing the head out of Gamzee's hands, because even if dead he doesn't get to witness any of this --to pull Gamzee in; even kneeling, it still shows how much of a difference in height there is, how he's almost too high for Karkat to pull his head against his chest, tucking Gamzee under his chin, between his horns, tears dropping into blood-matted hair. "C'mon, I'd tell you you can stand, but you're already passing out. Please just lay back down so I can try and patch you up, please??"

As he's getting the bag to put under Gamzee's head, something reminds him in his head, even though he doesn't need it to; Karkat only asked if he can accept any of these, because he still has an apology to make, too, not feeling right to take Gamzee's when he hasn't properly given his own.

 

Karkat does the best he can, cleaning him up and then getting the bleeding to stop. He doesn't know how to make the herb that's a coagulant go from a weed to the balm, and probably doesn't have the right stuff for it anyway. But making the pants into wraps was smart of him, that seems to keep everything in and he can let himself let Gamzee rest, pass the rest of the way out.

By the time the other wakes again, Karkat is sitting by the makeshift shrine, turning at the sound of him. "Hey... did any of the bandages break? Can you make it over here? Or do you need help?" Though he's already standing to come help Gamzee, his mate-to-be.

 

*

 

The Indigoblood hums and nods, cooperating with Karkat until he's on his back, something under his head -- and he thinks about bleeding out onto it before remembering there is no hole in his head.

He chuckles while his mate applies the bandages, blearily opening his eyes to catch a snapshot of the troll trying to wrap all of him up.

He blinks, and time has passed.
At least, he thinks it has; the heat isn't so smothering, and the light filtering through the thick trees is calmer.

Gamzee feels calmer.

He chirrs before saying anything, only turning his cheek to look at Karkat.

"I can stand." It takes his mouth a second to catch up with his mind, his body already moving.
It hurts, especially where the bandages constrict or have gone dry and brittle with old blood, but he's been beat worse and treated less.
Even so, he's careful on his feet, lamenting the loss of his tunic -- and thinking of names he could leverage to get them somewhere to stay. A single day would do it.

"Listen, there's a..." Gamzee meanders over to Karkat, plopping down as readily as he dares, "there's a Blueblood to the East. Bronya knew her. Got it awful bad for Chahut, you feel me? Could make use of her." A tavern or a traveling inn would be fine, too, if he weren't an Indigoblood.
After all, they don't travel alone -- and they don't travel with lowbloods, either.
That's not factoring in Gamzee's beaten state which, on a lowblood, would be overlooked. It also helps nothing that, when he blinks sleep from his eyes, Gamzee can see Karkat's exposed his entire leg.

 

He'd probably not be able to sleep in any of the blocks, too paranoid of unwanted daytime visitors.
He trills for attention.

"A Teal. Daraya -- one of the cloistered Jades -- knows a Teal. They work on old-world history, scripts what'll get 'em culled; supposed to be on the hush-hush side of things, but I seen 'em once. Two Teals. One got all the energy of a tree stump, and the other's all fluttering hands and moving lips." Both options seem equally unlikely to him, but he's surprised he has any options whatsoever, given this is all third-hand information from cloistered Jades.

"Also Skyyla. Bronzeblood. Bitch lives too far for a night-trip, though -- and who the fuck knows if she been culled? Never know... Might feel some ways on helping us out, though, seeing as we helped her when some Lusus thieves assaulted her hive." Gamzee sighs, runs his hands through his hair.
"How you been?" His attention, what he can muster, now turns entirely to Karkat.

"Didn't sleep long, did I? You been eating? Whole place reeks of you." He's pleasantly surprised no one has made it their business to come investigating.

 

*

 

He's already sitting up and moving, saying he can. Even so, Karkat worries about Gamzee doing just that much, coming to sit beside him while putting out options they have.

"Are they far?" The people he's mentioned sound like they'd be a ways off to travel on foot while they're one injured to hell and back and one practically useless for fighting. With all the wounds on him and Karkat's meager knowledge on making medicines (he knows what does what, just not how to make it into something useable) (using the fleshy leaf might have been a good idea on his part, scooping out the insides to smear over everything, already it's own salve in a way), they might not make it far, might not get better treatment before anything gets infected.

Karkat hazards a thought, really thinking it out before suggesting anything, "....we can..go to my village..," at best, everyone would just be curious about Gamzee, "I've got you wrapped, but you need better medicine and treatment. It isn't far and we can rest. Get supplies and stuff-- if I ask I bet I can get us another caravan and a beast. I have to tell them anyway that..," Karkat's eyes fall on the stump, the improvised incense making smoke and ash, "....that she's passed. I'm the only one who knows, probably. I didn't have the chance to do her funeral rites until you left."

He's not sure how the news will be taken, and he sure as hell isn't going to tell them how, (it'd only incriminate Gamzee as accomplice).

"....I wanna talk...you don't have to say anything yet, but I just want you to listen at least." Karkat takes a heavy breath, not quite knowing how to lay out everything he wants to say. "I...am so, sorry ," his voice hiccups, barely keeping the sob away, "Everyone is hurt-- you are hurt --right now because of me. Because I couldn't comprehend or understand you, or why and what we were doing then. How you felt and what you thought it meant that she was coming after us. That I didn't even assure you that I was choosing you-- I think I was choosing you before I knew it," Karkat huffs a laugh, "I made a wish, y'know? Right there at the wedding hall, I begged for anything to hear me. I guess your Messiahs did, because right after, you crashed in through the window." Never did Karkat think wishing would work so literally and punctually.

The small smile doesn't stay, Karkat thinking his words through, "I don't think I...I can't apologize for hitting Karako...yet. Don't think I can forgive him either. What else was I supposed to think, other than he took trophies, like a sporthunter who takes furs, horns and fangs of great beasts to display, when he wanted to throw words at me while he had her sign and mine on him?" Snorting a little bitterly before he continues, "A while after we left the cloister, I was just boiling on the inside. Because he has his Jade but he took mine, wouldn't it be fair for me to take his?" A dark, faraway look sits behind his eyes for a moment, before it's gone and the tired sadness is back. "But that won't bring her back, right?"

"I heard Baizli under the caravan. I knew it was Baizli under the caravan, and I tried and tried to get away from Kurloz so I could pull him in, but he wouldn't even...," Karkat makes a frustrated gesture, sighing, "I couldn't even do anything for them when the both of them were inside, I blamed myself and I knew everyone else did too, including the twins. Would they have even wanted me to do anything for them? I'd have died then if they told me they hated me; I'd accept it now if they did."

He takes a final, shuddering breath, calming himself with it, "...I'm sorry..for so many things..," His eyes wet, as if he still has tears to cry and hasn't cried them all out over the past couple of nights, ".....She was mine, long before I was yours and for longer than I've been yours. But, I am yours, and you're mine, so that's just a problem you're gonna have to deal with; you're stuck with me, Gamzee."

 

*

 

It's easier to listen than to talk -- and he doesn't have the energy to interject, anyway -- so he watches his mate with tired, purpling eyes.

After a moment, when he's certain Karkat's finished speaking, the highblood wraps an arm around the mutant. It's still an easy task, despite his injuries, to lift Karkat onto his lap. The movement stirs more of that sugary-sweet scent into the air, like it's dripping off Karkat -- and he can't help but wonder, idly, how Ampora hadn't found him earlier.

Then again, it was the guards who'd taken him in.

Gamzee makes a note to get the guards names out of Eridan before beheading him.

 

He guides Karkat to rest against him, almost aggressively pressing Karkat's cheek to his chest. His heartbeat. It's all he knows from Marvus and Chahut -- his wriggler-whining ending in a smack atop the head or a tight hold.

They've never told him who taught them how to hold others like this.

Under his breast, his heartbeat is tortuously slow. His skin is icy to the touch. It's the bloodloss, the lower temperatures of the night; it's the way Karkat makes him feel when they're so close.
"Y'know," Gamzee starts, hand running the length of Karkat's back, "Chahut and Marvus're older than me, but they're all mine. Even him ." His claws drag lightly over Karkat and, even through the shift, he can feel how soft the troll is. How vulnerable.

Visiting the caverns, he'd seen newly-hatched wrigglers and grubs crawling around. Only once had he held one, on its back with its small legs reaching toward him; Lanque watching over him, lips drawn back in a smile.

Karkat's that kind of soft; something which shouldn't be in his arms, but is nonetheless.

Of course, Lanque was trying to get a rise out of him -- that and worming his way into various quadrants are his pastimes.
"Most caravans don't take wrigglers." He keeps up the gentle motion, rhythmic.

"Think of it like a trial. Our Lusii always semi-aquatic, going places we can't be getting, so you get tough and survive long enough to get some purple in your orbs, or you perish and no motherfucker puts a second thought to it -- but Brother Marvus picked me up, a wriggler himself, and Sister Chahut dressed me and held me. My Lusus, one of those real great seagoats, done died right up on the sand. You see a wriggler squalling into their dead Lusus and you move on, but they didn't; so we don't." His early memories have faded somewhat, washed-out, but he knows Chahut was yet to fill into an adult, and Marvus was still a wriggler; Kurloz was between them.

"Half-a-sweep later, we got Karako. Bronya was so motherfucking nervous on letting him go, seeing as he's just some proof they're healing defective grubs -- and, y'know, she's his Lusus. He made all those sounds at her, like she couldn't understand his words." Gradually, a rumble builds in his chest, a rolling purr.

"The twins ain't been with us too long. There's a wriggler-Jade up in that cloister."
"They're all mine, and I'm theirs. You're part of that, now, too -- and Brother Karako never does nothing in bad faith. Maybe those signs got snatched on him. We take heads as trophies, not signs. Anyway, a motherfucker didn't wanna get violent like that, but he knew, like everyone knew," his voice drops, drips out of him like cold honey, "that I'd kill you, her, and every single one of them." He states this like the fact it is, fingers now combing through Karkat's hair.

"That's the kind of white-hot rage I got under my skin, Karkat." His purring grows louder as Karkat's heat dissipates into him.

"The twins don't hate you. We fight like that all the time. Usually with better outcomes, but a death's a death's a death. New additions to the caravan always invite strife until they find their niche and settle nice into it -- and if she had to die for it, then that's how it had to go. I'd have to die for you to get back into your old niche, as a village breeder what never got bred." He gingerly pinches Karkat's cheek, then urges the smaller troll to look at him.

Gamzee doesn't remember the last time he'd said so much, but it feels nice.

"I can't go." He brushes his cheek against Karkat's.

"I don't want their beasts or caravans, neither. This ain't the first time we lost a lot. Skyyla'll help us. 'Tween her and us, we can get our rest on at that Teal's place... one of 'em's Stelsa, one of 'em's Tyzias. Only one of 'em got it in their thinkpans to be blasphemous toward The Empire." His eyelids flutter shut, and he sighs.

"I don't want you to go alone, neither, though."

 

*

 

He's pulled in to Gamzee, first to be set wholly in his lap and then for his cheek against his chest, cool and warmth sapping into each other. Gamzee's heart pumps too slow, too hard, not for his cold but because there's hardly enough blood to pump, Karkat thinks. Once his own heart calms down itself, Karkat can almost hear and feel himself trying to match it in breath and beat, careful strokes down his back lulling whatever tension to ebb away.

That deep rumbled purr, too, like it'd let Karkat sink into him, hardly making much reaction at Gamzee's declaration of slaughter; that aside, being told that the twins don't hate him actually lightens up some heaviness on his heart. Saying he'd be dead before Karkat went back to where he was before, and he wants to ask ' not even for him to have a visit? ', since being told before how the caravans pass Karako's cloister, Chahut's Navy.

 

Pinches his cheeks in affection, before telling Karkat he can't go, covering it up by nuzzling their cheeks together. As if being sweet would make Karkat fuzz and forget. "Alright," he mumbles partly into cool palms, "We won't get a caravan. I do want better medicine-- your pusher sounds like there isn't enough-- or any --blood to push." They could do with better rest than on the forest floor, and it'd make Karkat feel better to get proper care-- there are goddamn h o l e s in his body.

"I mean...there isn't anyone at my hive right now...," Karkat overtly blinks those pretty eyes and long lashes, not quite looking at Gamzee but in plain view of him, lips almost pouted, looking coy, "...You don't wanna sleep at my hive?" Humming softly in false thought, though it's what he does in Gamzee's lap, hips making just the slightest, subtle shift of movement, hardly enough to even be called that, "...don't wanna sleep in my bed?" his voice is just a tad softer, just enough to sound like his words aren't meant to be heard by anyone or anything else, just Gamzee.

A moment, and then some more pass while he's looking up at his mate-to-be like that, as if his question was asked in nothing but pure innocence.

"...Plus, there's a blueblood I'm hoping to run into," Karkat suddenly stands, keeping as much of his weight off of Gamzee as he can, not wanting to disturb his wounds as he goes to retrieve Ampora's crown, coming back to sit in front of the other like he hadn't done anything just now, "It'd be hard to sell this. No one might want it, purely because it'd be seen as treason, buying a dead prince's crown. But, if it can be sold to anyone, she'd buy it," Karkat turns it over in his hands some more, studying the gold and gems, the intricate detail and fine craftship, "..mmmmh...how much do you think it's worth?" Just for the novelty of it, Karkat puts it over his horns, almost a little too big to sit easily on his head, effectively dethroning Cronus, "...think it'll buy back some lost stuff?"

 

*

 

Slowly, his purr stops, and Gamzee slumps.
His brows furrow for a moment, then his expression evens out.

"If you dismantle that shit correctly, won't no one know it belonged to no Prince. Just be some gems and gold. Sell it whole, you'll never get enough for it. Not to make it worth it. If that's what a brother wants to do, though, then..." He shrugs, and gingerly lays himself down, making a point to turn away from Karkat.
The ground is nice and cool, his eyes fluttering shut of their own accord.

"Never said you can't go. You'll have to forgive your mate's distrust of those heathens, given our last time with 'em. I don't want a single motherfucking thing to do with 'em, and the quicker we get back with everyone, the better." Sluggishly, he pulls his legs partway to his chest, and his breathing grows thin for a number of moments before he settles comfortably.

"It don't rest easy in me to sit in a village, neither." He knows he could get up and shuffle around, but he also knows Karkat wouldn't let him.
"You go, if that's your whole prerogative. I ain't gonna go." He sighs, stilling.

"Was trying for pale, not pail."

 

*

 

Karkat raises a brow at Gamzee's retreat, then frowns at himself for picking the wrong moment, rolling his eyes-- so much for seduction. He's purposely faced away from him too, words short and purring stopped, and while Karkat should be miffed he's got the image of a butthurt wriggler sulking away from their Lusus in his head, trying not to laugh, at least out loud.

"Alright then," Karkat huffs but only to hide a snort, sitting for a moment longer before he's turning as well, carefully leaning over him, "I'll be back fast. You'll wait for me this time?" He asks but leans in close to where he can drop a chaste, tender kiss to a hornbed. "There's still dried grubmeat in the bag, and if it's tied together it's a medicine herb, if not then it's edible." He can totally make it there all by himself, since Gamzee doesn't want to 'bother with heathens'. Pulling the suncloak he's been using over his head and taking all precautions before setting off in the night. It may take most of the night but Karkat is sure he'd be fast.

Notes:

We had a tall hill to climb but I think we managed pretty well, considering all the stuff we made go down, lolol.

Chapter 13: Surprise

Notes:

I've never told you, but would you believe you were the first partner I've ever had that knew the difference between 'foul' and 'fowl'?

It is especially amazing how many people seriously actually do *not* know the difference!
For instance, 'foul' is an adjective used to describe things that are gross/bad/awful/etc., while 'fowl' is a noun that refers to various birds. Reading through your replies and even our shitposting where the word happened by chance, I may have chirped myself pleased.

As for this section, again, not one of my proudest of writings, long as it was for a reply. I'm not super happy of the direction I went with Kanaya or the Elder, as he's known for now, but in the end, we were able to make it work, so I don't feel as bad about it anymore.

Gamzee hums quietly, neither an affirmative nor a negative.                                                                                                                                                           

 

With Karkat gone, the highblood gets to his feet, locating Cronus' head. It hurts, feels like half the gesture was lost on Karkat -- who has no reference for the difficulty of fighting anyone, much less a Violetblood -- but he supposes the crown will prove to be useful, anyway.

He grabs the head and moves a ways off, sticking it atop a tree for some poor hunter/forager to find later.

"The King is dead." Gamzee mutters to the head, slumping back into the clearing.

Cronus wasn't King of anything, but he was acting in parts; the Amporas have been puppeted by The Empress for a long, long time. Supposedly, since their ancestor had the bright idea of taking some information to The Grand Highblood, only to never be heard of again.

Gamzee has to keep himself from laughing whenever it's postulated that the Violetblood King isn't dead.
His tunic is ruined, and there isn't anything else to be done, so Gamzee curls up inside the makeshift shelter Karkat had put up, and allows himself to rest.

 

*

 

Karkat's actually a little bummed, that Gamzee didn't want to go with him. Then again, he is injured, and now put out because Karkat ruined a moment. Doesn't want to deal with more people from his village in case they're all like Kanaya....which they're not; which, understandable but still. He sort of wanted to also...ask the village head for a blessing, the thought bringing his face to redness, so much blood rushing to his head making him almost dizzy.

Like, he'd wanted Kanaya to give him away to his beloved partner, in this case, Gamzee, Karkat had a lot of expectations for his wedding ceremony-- even if built up by books and fantasy. Ruined utterly by Ampora and circumstance, maybe he's just going to have to come to terms with the fact that he can't get everything he wants-- not that he was getting that anyway, but the universe could give him something, Gamzee doesn't count; for Karkat Gamzee was a pleaded wish that he didn't think through seriously, and for Gamzee Karkat is a divine direction he's not quite able to go against because of belief. He'd said before like and love would grow with time but they've got a massive hell of a setback and Karkat acting stupid on top of it. Sigh, such is life., c'mon, gods, stars, hell, Messiahs even, couldn't they all cut him a bit of slack and help him out a little!? At least sometimes??

....Right, he's got zilch, as usual. Sure, when it's convenient for otherworldly beings to do so they'll throw him a half-assed bone, but when Karkat actually needs something where the fuck are they???
One would think that being dragged a few days across the countryside, he'd be more than used to walking-- more so since it was so miserable. Karkat can barely see the treeline of the woods but he's already tired in the legs, hasn't got the height or length to make bigger strides. Hmph, like that's something to stop him, he'd told Gamzee he'd be back fast, didn't he?..... Still, he'd have liked for him to come along.

 

He treks along for a while more before he hears the sound of wheels, of heavy-beast-breathing, warily moving more to the side of the road. Soon it's essentially behind him, coming up on his side, Karkat daring a glance over and then up at the driver-- "H-Hey!! You !!"

That has the driver pull on the reigns, blinking over Karkat's appearance with one surprised pupil, the other seven covered under an eyepatch as she does a doubletake, "Oi, it's you!! Holy shit, shorstack, I thought you were off gallivanting around with your clown boyfriend, how the heck are you here????????"

"I haven't even said anything yet, how do you know about that ???" Karkat throws back at Serket, completely forgetting to say anything about his 'clown boyfriend'.

"Your mom. Kidding, but really though, she told me--"

"How could she have!? She's....!" He wonders when Kanaya would have talked to Vriska that she knew, his news about her being dead caught in his throat.

Vriska has the biggest shit-eating grin spreading on her face, "Well, wouldn't you like to know..," she says with an offered hand.

 

 

About A Week Before; AKA, The Night After Kanaya 'Died'

 

The day passes on into night, a body lying still and headless off the side of the road. In a twist, the extremities twitch first, just slight movements. Then, it starts from the bottom, quicker, tensed movements until the entire body is convulsing. The severed head with it's pained expression and dulled eyes give no sign of anything until irises come aglow with the force of life and the eyes flash open with a gasp. Hands scrabble and reach over the ground, carefully grasping the missing piece and realigning bone and flesh, though, through forces unknown, it reseals together but only loosely. The newly formed and alive troll hacking up blood, two shades of which aren't hers.

 

"F iiiiiiii nally!! Nice of you to wake up!" A distinct voice with a distinct emphasis says as soon as Kanaya is hunched over to let out everything inside her, unpleased with her entire predicament (losing her charge, practically thrice , how talking to the Indigo troupe was like talking to pupae and pulling fangs at the same time, and then they-- the child --attack her first, while she's on the defensive after covering the small one up-- and then that pupa-bodied troll ju stFuckingHacksUpHerHead .....all without even getting to see Karkat. It's absolutely horrible, just terrible really.

"Oh my g od you're i g norin g me--"

" Oh for stars' sake's ," Kanaya wheezes, voice not quite working right, and neither is her breathing for that matter, her neck not quite having healed. "You try having your head cut off, see how oriented you come back; oh , wait, I forgot. You can't." Irritated, Kanaya is very snappy. "How long..since I left the city?"

"Three nights, two days. I take it you got lopped off...?" Vriska asks and gestures like she's waiting for Kanaya to actually tell her how long it took before she died-- well, fake-died anyway.

"........Don't tell me they didn't even let you last more than ten minutes--"

"-- That's not important right now ."

Vriska makes a long snrrrrrrrrk before continuing, "I mean, you're waking up faster, isn't that a good thing?" She finishes her chortling while Kanaya composes herself, being handed a bloodied jug. "Here, nice and fresh........okay, so, it was fresh when I bled the guy, but it's only been a day, it should still be fine!"

Kanaya rolls her eyes, taking the jug and trying not to show how much she needs it. "I've half a mind to bite you."

"I thought I was your favorite!!!!!!!!"

"You're the only one who says that. Those words have never left my lips."

"Aw but you're thinking it aren'tcha ?"

She pointedly deadpans a stare while drinking from the jug-- Navy, but she's going to need higher --, rolling her eyes and feeling some relief, if only a little.

 

"What about your ward? Gonna go after him? I don't think your Elder meant for you to go this far, and if Indigos have him that's gonna be some pretty hard shit to get through-- you must be soooooooo proud, your little gwub-baby all grown up and off with his clown boyfriend."

"Vriska, sometimes I swear you could go without your mouth for a day," Unfortunately, anything to do with mouths throws a memory in Kanaya's head, where she's just outside the tent Karkat was sleeping in and listening...to..... her whole face blooms Jade and Serket has another chance to poke at her.

"Ohoooo, and where is my mouth going then? You're all green, didja think of something dirty or--"

"I did not!!"

She gets ribbed some more, drinking down what she's been brought and sighing at her failed task. "I should, but...I don't know," Kanaya rubs at her temple, "What of Ampora? Has he started after them yet?"

Vriska smiles something pleased with herself, "Well, being that he's waiting on a reply from the Empress for a tracker, no, he hasn't; being that the letter he sent out is being a teensy bit delayed, it's gonna take a minute," a violet envelope is twirled between her fingers while she talks as if she hadn't a single thing to do with that.

"You sly thing."

"Hey now, don't celebrate yet. Just because he's waiting don't mean he'll wait forever. Even if he never gets a reply he'll set out eventually. We should still consider things carefully."

Kanaya smiles a little to herself, Miss Vriska-village-business-is-village-business-and-has-nothing-to-do-with-me-Serket said we. "They're already too much ahead for us to catch up..," she says, eyes landing on the abandoned caravans, "...but that doesn't mean we can't make it harder for Ampora to come after them either."

"You don't think once he gets bored of hunting clowns he'll come straight for the village?"

Rather, Kanaya knows that's what he'll do, it'd only make sense, being that that's where Karkat is from. "We'll head there, right after we move those."

 

Present Night

 

With Vriska giving him a lift the rest of the way, Karkat's trip is much faster than he thought it'd be. Any time he asks the blueblood about Kanaya, whatever she knows that she isn't telling him, she dodges and only gives him a smile like he's in for something.

And wasn't he. Karkat nearly threw himself off the cart as they round Kanaya's shop, yet to notice the busy bustle of his village packing themselves up or that he'd been seen and news of his return was spreading quickly. She's standing right there, as if they'd never been to Ampora's city and palace, wearing her working uniform with her sleeves cuffed like it's any other day for minding the shop. Karkat runs right up to her, leaping up and burying his face wherever he can while bawling, big fat tears blotted wherever they land.

She also dodges when Karkat asks how she's still alive by saying, "It's ten sweeps too early for anyone to keep me down and dead, dear," and Karkat guesses he can accept that answer because she's alive and that's all he cares about.

Kanaya cares about, "What on Alternia are you wearing? They have you walking around like this ??" only for Karkat to go on the defensive and say it's because it's too hot and he needed bandages-- needs more bandages as a matter of fact. Explaining that it's just him and Gamzee without giving too much away and glossing over what needs glossing (doesn't dare let it slip that Gamzee had struck him). It's as he's talking that he finally notices the entire village seems to be moving about, going in and out of dwellings and seeing who needs help for something. "What..what's going on?"

Kanaya and Vriska look at each other before looking back at him, Kanaya looking a little sad, "We need to get away from here. Ampora is trying to find you, and once he gets bored of looking for your Indigos, he'll end up coming here-- if he hasn't already turned en route by now." Kanaya kneels carefully so that she's level with Karkat's face, "We're...not going to be here, after this week, sweetness. Everyone is going. The sister village has agreed to help us out even, getting remotely out of reach-- they've already come to take most of the Lusii." Karkat notices that part, most Lusii are missing, including his and if he looks behind the hive, Kanaya's Lusus' cocoon will be gone too.

The sister village is somewhere Karkat has never been to, but most of the Burgundies and Golds, even some Bronzebloods, have come from there with their Second Sight-- something beyond their psionics and anyone else's comprehension (Karkat remembers being friends with a Burgundy and a Gold, Aradia who went to the sister village for training could see other things through the veil of this world and the next, and Sollux went for the pain he'd felt whenever someone close was about to die) (another Burgundy girl used to live here, but Karkat can't remember anything about her other than her sign-- Andromeda --and that she was a little more than off-kilter).

"Are you sure you won't come with us? I want to be selfish and pack you along with me anyway, I should , after the fowl-chase I was led on for you, what I had to deal with when they left me there and took you further than I could go on." Kanaya shuts her eyes and breathes harshly, as if remembering, looking back at Karkat with the beginning of Jade tears.

Karkat can't help but feel like crying again, pouty lips quibbling, "I can't leave him there, he's injured and I told him I'd come back. I want to come with you, but I can't ," this is perhaps the reason and fault of his softness, how immediately Kanaya pulls him into a hug, voice soft and lukewarm hold familiar and wonderful, Karkat easily embracing her back as he hiccups.

"Shush, sweetness, I don't think we have time for tears, do we?"

 

Someone comes running along the walkway to call out, saying the Head Elder wanted to see Karkat. Kanaya has to let him go but urges him to hurry, since Karkat himself doesn't have much time.

 

The Head of the village is a massive troll, far older than any of the residents and twice as gentle (he's reminded of his first love for that, though perhaps it may be just because their horns are similar), time being told on how there's more white than black in his sleek long hair, a fur wrapped over one shoulder across his body and the rest of him is covered in a long wrap from the chest down, across his eyes is wrapped a simple cloth.

Karkat's never been afraid of the Elder, never had any reason to, face uplifting into a beam when he's acknowledged, the Head's voice a deep, slow, soul-shaking rumble, "...You've returned to us, safe and unharmed, Karkat...," Karkat nods and hums, "...But I've already heard, you are leaving us again....at least this time of your own accord." The gentle giant chirrs and it's a sound that seems to hold the body, "Better to leave on your own than be stolen by guards sent by a princeling who cannot even follow proper customs." Earning the Head's favor as well as one's Lusus's was how it was usually done, though for Karkat things are a bit out of order.

Karkat speaks up, "Is there nothing that can be done? If Ampora comes toward the village?"

The Elder smiles at him, a sad look while slowly shaking his head, "This is simply the course of things, child. The princeling's search will end here in vain for him, while we all are long gone." He reaches toward a large desk table, gingerly picking up a largely folded thing-- large when he hands it to Karkat, small in the scale of his fingers, "Neither I nor Miss Maryam can force you to stay, child. But I can do at least this much, so that you are not cut off from those you know and care for."

It's a map, the village marked on it and many other places; somewhere into the empty space are two lone markings. Another thing drops into his hands, a silvery chain link with Karkat's-- the village's --sign, Cancer but also the Irons gleaming at him. "Another thing that I can do is make sure that you do not go on your way signless, or lacking supplies. That is your first reason for coming back home, was it not?"

Karkat looks down out of guilt, clutching his gifts to his chest, "I'm sorry. I want to stay..."

"Do not feel bad, child. At the very least do not feel like you should. We will see you off when you leave." A large finger carefully pushes against the map, "Perhaps, when your mate--," Karkat immediately flushes and fidgets at Gamzee being called that, by the Elder no less, "--is more amenable, come see us if you can. Bring him too. Our ways may be strange to him but that's no reason to not bless the union properly." With that he's told to stay the day, to rest before he's set out again.

 

Karkat goes with a careful pat on the head, gone back to the shop where Kanaya is packing her fabrics and materials. He's told if there's anything he wants to get taken along with her he should go pack it now, being sent to his block with some dried fruit. Being that he can't take a lot of his clothes along, Karkat only changes to a new, dark grey tunic and black leggings, folding up the Olive undershirt and makeshift shorts, digging under his bed for an old leather satchel to put them in-- be smart of him to continue being an Oliveblood when he needs to be. First things first is his bookshelf, everything on there is extremely important, Karkat taking them by a reasonable stack and binding them all together with twine. Despite how many there are, he's finished with it rather quickly; because under the floorboard is...the good shit .

He wasn't sure if he'd be able to see any of those ones again. These books are carefully brought out, covers covered and double tied in twine. Kanaya doesn't know he has these-- Kanaya doesn't know Vriska brings them for him on the down-low and if she did they'd both be in trouble Kanaya doesn't know that one of these is hers and Karkat can use that if she wants to say anything about what he reads in his spare time.

On the last stack, all the covers are hidden but one, Karkat thinking to indulge himself with his hidden garbage-- because it is garbage, absolute trash, it's written horribly and inaccurately it's the usual highblood-lowblood pairing; the highblood is 'supposedly' Indigo , it may be trash but it's the juiciest trash Karkat owns. He opens it and not even to the first page-- Karkat knows what he's after, going right to the middle of it, biting his lip with inappropriate glee. Not for the content, no, but for the delight of reading words and already knowing where they lead to--

"Karkat?"

The book flies up and out of his hands and Karkat may as well learn to juggle with how he keeps not catching the book. When he does, Kanaya is already opening the door, Karkat cramming it closed into his bag and grabbing the twine on the last stack like he'd been doing that the whole time. "Mmh?" he says, like he wasn't absolutely doing something he shouldn't.

"Oh, sorry. Of course you'd want me to take your books, huh..," she smiles at him and begins to turn away, "Go ahead and finish with that one, then come down for a moment and let me take your measurements."

Karkat is a damn bobble-toy with the way he nods and he knows it, being almost caught with his filth.

Kanaya has him on her modeling stand, putting a measuring tape to him and making notes, for what Karkat doesn't know (duh, to remember his sizing stuff but for what? He wasn't going to be around for a while). Does his best not to move, but sees on one of the models not yet put away a Navy's coat, and then some other Navy items...

Vriska is-- easily --convinced to stay, thinking to leave the same time as Karkat. Which works out for him if he can get a lift most of the way back, can make it faster back to Gamzee. He now gets a chance to ask Kanaya for some medicines, or if she could teach him how to make them-- be great if he could make use of the stuff back at their makeshift camp. She does that and leaves him with a journal and a graphite stick, having written them down and putting aside things for him to take.

The Ceruleanblood is smart and is even smarter with her connections, Karkat knows, nonchalantly asking her where the best place to go would be if he wanted to sell some gems. Vriska gives him shit about it, prying into how he got the gems he's not showing her but with no luck, Karkat not budging on anything until she gives up and marks it on his map, calling him a sneaky little cheat, to which Karkat retorts, "Takes one to know one!"

Karkat actually gets a full rest for once in a while during the day, to the point where he even wakes up around dusk, like he usually does, used to do. It takes a minute, to remember that he's not getting ready to do his chores but to make sure he's dressed, his bag is packed with everything he wanted to take. Outside, the Head and the rest of his village is waiting to see him off, walking outside with Kanaya's arm around him. He's gifted with dried meats and fruit, a skin of water and things that will last on the road, his suncloak repaired by Kanaya and another meant for a much bigger troll. He's packed a set of clothes that he hopes will fit Gamzee, pleading with Kanaya to let him take them until she gave in.

Kanaya is given a hug and left with Karkat pecking her cheek, running up to do the same to the village head sans a kiss. Calling goodbyes to everyone as he's pulled up onto Vriska's cart, the beast pulling them away from the village.

 

*

 

With a slow sigh, Gamzee wakes into the heat of midday.

He sits up, strips, and wades into the pond. When he curls up underwater, holding his breath until his bellow sacs ache, it almost feels like he belongs there; when his instincts win out, and he opens his mouth, water quickly filling his insides.

Gamzee breaks the surface, expelling pale-purple water from his lips and nose in huge, heaving quantities.
The bandages, soaked through, come off easily.
Underneath them, he thumbs over half-healed wounds.

 

In the heat of day, it doesn't take him long to dry -- and, subsequently, it doesn't take him long to dress, or to pull on his bloodied, tattered suncloak and make for the nearest settlement.
A Navyblood mansion, in the day, is dead to the world -- which serves him perfectly well. The Lusus is some kind of local beast he's never handled, but it must have a bad sense of smell, seeing as Gamzee can sneak around it with relative ease.

He finds the owner of this mansion in his cocoon, his sopor a bright, fresh green.

If he hadn't just cleaned himself, Gamzee might have just break the Navyblood's neck and climb right in beside him; sopor does wonders to soothe the mind and body. It's been a long time since Gamzee's had any -- even a smear across the forehead.

Instead, he looks through the closet, gathering up a new pair of hose, a pair of shoes, a smock, a too-large tunic, and a belt.
He scampers down to the main floor to dress himself, snatching a hairtie to pull his wild hair away from his features.

A quick look in the mirror and -- if he didn't already hate this fashion -- he'd agree with Karkat; he does look spiffy.

Or, maybe, fuckable.

In a sort of 'too-good-for-you' highblood way, rather than the usual 'travelling-clown' way he tends to dress. It's safe to say no one's particularly enthused about being in the vicinity of Indigobloods, much less entering into a quadrant with them.

 

Anything more than a quick look at himself, and he starts to bristle, so he throws on the suncloak and makes for the forest.
By dusk, without Karkat back, Gamzee breaks down their shelter, and hides himself high in a tree.

The Navy bleeds well into the dense foliage -- and he can't help but smile to himself. No one would expect to see a Navyblood anywhere but the ground, being as stalwart as ever; any passing lowblood might piss themselves out of fear, too.

Not that Gamzee makes himself easy to be seen, waiting into the night for Karkat.
Occasionally, he lets out a loud chirp , before moving trees. This should be close to his mate's village, and his mate should be getting back soon.

 

At least, that's what Gamzee hopes.

 

Being away from the caravan isn't just about physical lonliness; he can't feel them. The twins' chucklevoodoos, Karako's daytime communes, Chahut's ever-present threat, Marvus' slow drip through the annals of time; even Kurloz is a source of white noise.

 

Out of curiosity, later into the night, Gamzee stretches; unfurls himself as far as he'll go. He brushes past minds that can link with the dead, minds tormented by those same souls; minds that could breech his if he leaves a trail in its wake -- and he finds a mind, latent and rotted, just as a pair of muscled hoofbeasts bash into Vriska's cart.

" Dammit !" Two trolls spill from the back, both female; one with spherical horns, one with horns like those of a Virgin Mothergrub.

The smaller of the two -- smaller than Karako -- looks bleary-eyed, wrapped in layer upon layer of fabric, tied off at the waist. Her companion, taller but not quite an adult, scowls at her 'companions'.
The caravan comes to a screeching halt, four Indigoblooded males spilling from the front and back.

The power dynamics are clearly skewed -- not that Gamzee knows as much, grabbing his clubs and making a beeline for the pan-rotted mind he can feel.

 

If they're not here for Karkat, then what use to them would a small, backwards village be?

Notes:

When you suggested introducing some of your OCs, I loved the idea. I love throwing OCs or even randomly generated momentary characters in to jazz things up. And you really did it with a bang here.

Your OCs were extremely, very well-loved in not only this rp, but our others as well. And, I think so anyway, that while they were slightly suffocated here in others we were able to let them *become* characters.

I hope you're doing okay. Please be safe.

Chapter 14: To The Fang

Something tickles in her head, something foreign (it doesn't belong , nothing and no one goes through her head, Vriska goes into others, and she should follow it back for being so nosy); it feels like an affront, horns tingling in a way that twitches her head. But, if not for that, she wouldn't have seen the caravan come until too late. It still hits her cart, tips over her own beast, the poor thing bellowing out on it's side.

She and Karkat could have been dead at an instant if she hadn't been bothered, but she was, and they're not. No, after grabbing the breeder and throwing themselves, they hit the ground a bit too hard for anyone's liking, Karkat still disoriented while Vriska can't afford to be

"Hey, shortstack," she shakily calls him, trying to get steady and putting a hand on the sword at her hip, "I'm gonna hope that these ain't your Indigos, because they owe me eightfold for that cart."

Shakiness aside, Vriska grins like she's relishing the thought of combat; more like, she's thinking of their chances of getting out of this alive.

 

Karkat doesn't have natural combat senses, an enhanced psyche or weird psionics to warn him about oncoming danger. But he feels it within the moment things connect or touch, turns his head a second after Vriska to see what she's looking at.

Then he's on the ground and aching, no recollection of how that came to be, dizzily looking up to see Vriska in front of him as she draws her blade. "I.....no, no, I don't know 'em," they most certainly are not his Indigos, and Karkat's never had the typical experience with them considering his and Gamzee's circumstance.

Vriska kicks something with her heel towards him, "Pick that up, and defend yourself to the last fang, Karkat." It's a farming sickle, but it's still a kind of blade that he knows how to use, at least the gist of it. Karkat stumbles up, holding the sickle with both hands in front of him, shaking a lot more than the blueblood, Vriska waiting until someone makes the first move.

 

*

 

Four pairs of eyes size up the Blueblood.
This is the caste where they're harder to kill; some have persuasive powers, while others are just stronger than they let on.

Teals can be difficult to kill, but only insofar as they usually have grieving, highblooded quadrant-mates.

 

The two female trolls stray from the others, the taller clutching the shorter; if they want to be part of this troupe, they don't show it.

First to move is a hefty Indigoblood, comparable in size to Chahut, lifting a hatchet over his shoulder -- and behind him, a shadow appears; familiar horns, a familiarly slim build.
Gamzee launches himself onto the back of the largest bastard there, grabs his horns, and twists until he hears a loud, violent crack .

The two of them go toppling to the ground, and he rolls to his feet with ease, scuttling to place himself in front of the Blueblood -- a Blueblood he doesn't trust, but one that won't run off with his mate.

If she does, then he'll just kill her.

 

The pan-rotted troll clutches the other female and makes some distressed clicking noises deep in her throat, although no one besides the one she clings to pays her much mind.

Gamzee's lips peel back in a snarl and he hisses, pulling his clubs from his bag.
It's easier to disguise his panting as hissing; just like it's easier to pretend he doesn't taste his own blood creeping up the walls of his throat.

Despite their largest being killed, one of the smaller males climbs atop his caravan; he loads a rock into a sling, and begins to whip it around his head, building momentum.

"Good one, you posh fucker, but we ain't gonna be so easy." The slim troll retorts, his two grounded companions baring their weapons, as well; a long polearm, and what looks to be a ball-and-chain.
Gamzee refrains from bristling, calling behind him.

"Karkat, up! Hide!" He hisses between breaths, only shooting the Cerulean a quick glance; she's survived some combat, at least.

 

*

 

The biggest one is definitely that, big . He's big and imposing, and with an arm raised, his swing means to get at least one of them. Karkat can't move, not forward to attack nor back because he can't just leave Vriska to handle them all by herself. She's tensed to strike, but within moments another joins in on the fight, Karkat's eyes widening.

Gamzee moves like he doesn't care that the other is built bigger than him, like he doesn't care that he's still injured, doesn't give a damn as horns and head twists, the big Indigo falling to the ground while Gamzee nearly springs back up with ease, coming by the both of them. That still leaves five against two-- because Karkat knows he doesn't count --, one of them climbing up on their caravan to aim their sling.

Calling Gamzee a posh fucker has Karkat realize he's wearing some other Navy clothes that Karkat doesn't remember leaving him with, but no time for that now, being told to up and hide. He hates to leave them alone while in the thick of it but he isn't good for anything but being in the way right there. Karkat's moving out of the way and out of sight.

 

Humming in thought, Vriska glances at their new addition, "You must be the boyfriend," she guesses. But now with Karkat out of the way, it feels like she can move without consequence. Two of them don't seem interested in the fight, staying back and not involving themselves at all.

The others seem easy, Vriska eyeing the one atop the caravan and then the other two on the ground. Wary of the loaded stone, she waits for a moment as the polearmed one starts forward, before sliding into his movements and slicing the polearm in half, a flick of her wrist sees a gash across his chest, dancing back out of reach and looking for her opening to finish. "You wanna take care of the other one?"

 

*

 

The Indigoblood hisses, stepping back -- and both his friends launch their projectiles.

Gamzee grabs the Blueblood by the back of her shirt and hauls her narrowly away from both a rock and a heavy iron ball -- but said iron ball carries a slight Indigo with it.

"I'm his mate ." Gamzee flings a club up to the roof of the caravan, nailing the rock-slinging Indigo upside the head.

"Go for the head and neck." He advises, ducking when that broken polearm is flung their way.

 

While the two Bluebloods are distracted, the females make a dash for Karkat -- or, rather, the taller one drags along the smaller one, hissing at her, jerking her along.

"Karkat," the Indigo seems to have overhead Gamzee, "where are you? We're not your enemies!" She hisses, a hint of manic desperation in her voice.
The smaller troll grumbles deep in her throat, although she sounds like a pupa.

"Depends... If that's really his descendant. There's a fake one, you know." The hem of her dress, stopping at the knee, is splattered in multicoloured blood; her legs don't seem much different.

Oddly enough, the other troll is clean -- ridiculously so for a clown.
She doesn't sound much like one, either, and neither are openly armed.

"Karkat?" She blinks into the foliage, while the smaller troll behind her winces at the sound of combat.

"Karkat?" She tries again -- and, if one were to look closely, they'd find her eyes to be green.

A bright, odd, unnatural green.

 

*

 

Figures that she'd get so used to fighting on her ship that she can't move as greatly as on land. There's no rock of the waves to tip the scales, no mast or sails or even a barrel to drag into her fight; her ship provided an easy, quick-method environment for Vriska to use anything and everything she had to her advantage, this flat land with it's unfamiliar terrain is an equalizer.

Karkat's Indigo pulls her out of the way of a fast-falling rock and the heavy ball but she doesn't have time to be surprised, getting right back into rhythm. The one up top is struck by a club and Vriska dances around a pole stab, using the Indigo's outstretched arm to hoist herself up and onto his back. In the same momentum, her blade hooks across his neck-- a cruel kind of weapon, to slice and pierce flesh at the same time --, continuing across his back and dragging the blade with her to tear open his throat.

Damn, if the stuff in her cart was damaged she'd be so pissed, thinking to get a flask of blood for Kanaya with how much spurts from the Indigo she just dropped.

 

The two that come after him call out, Karkat making himself small in the foliage. They only know his name because they heard it, so he's not falling for that, still trembling with the sickle in his hand. Can't hear much of what they're talking about, just that they're looking for him with a hint of desperation, as if they need him for something.

Karkat jumps in his spot, both Indigos looking through where he's hiding and calling his name softer, as if that's supposed to help. He's only confused when instead of grey or Purple, he's looking back into bright, sopor-green, knows that they've seen his bright red when those eyes widen. Karkat stands, holding the sickle in front of him despite his unsteady hands. "...D-Don't..don't do anything, alright? I don't wanna have to...have to...!"

Everything's up in the air, no one knows what's going to happen from this point on.

 

*

 

"Have to what ?" The Indigo peeks around at Karkat, voice flat.

"You're shaking like a pupa." Her voice is bland and flat, almost toneless.

"Don't provoke him." The other one says, her voice sharp, like she's used to always needing to tell others where to be or what to do.

"So, are we just supposed to stand here until we die?" She folds her arms over her small chest, a baggy shift only exposing her long, muscular legs.

"The Grand Highblood might be able to get us before we starved to death, but that doesn't take into account beasts, or the Indigos behind us." She steps toward Karkat on bare feet, almost daring him to slit her throat.

A gust of wind blows through the trees, whipping up the leaves; although the greenblood grabs the hem of her shift, that familiar, sugary-sweet scent still clings to the air.

 

"Hey!" Gamzee calls in time to see that iron ball smash into Vriska's side, it's owner taken along with it; he's smart enough to get range before whipping the chain taut, and starting another rotation.

Gamzee's up on the roof of the caravan, hoping to knock the rock-slinging Indigoblood off; he hadn't counted on the troll concealing a knife.

Neither of them expect the bleeding Indigoblood to get back up; to grab the Blueblood by her long hair and hoist her off the ground.

 

Even the troll whose neck he'd broken squirms, and Gamzee's skin crawls -- most of them are adults, they're outnumbered, and he's got a dodgy Blueblood for a partner.

It doesn't help how difficult they are to kill.

 

He dances out of the way of another strike, making it look effortless while wondering if he should let them see him bleed.

Would they bend the knee?

Probably not; Kurloz still exists, after all. Gamzee has no real immunity. Besides that, there's Karkat; they'd just take and rape Karkat, or drag Karkat down to The Grand Highblood.

Wherever that is.

 

With a sweep of the leg, he topples the troll off the top of their caravan, and follows shortly; he misses his chance to smash the other's face in, but he doesn't miss his chance to throw himself at the bleeding Indigoblood.

His horns are more difficult to grab due to their shape -- and he thrashes, holding the Blueblood like a ragdoll -- before his neck cracks and he goes down.

Gamzee's feet touch the ground as that ball-and-chain sinks into the small of his back.

He laughs, lurching forward.

"Blueblood," he gets out between chuckles, "can you find Karkat and run? We ain't like to win this." More forced laughter, his lips peeling back into a sneer when he sees the broken-necked, big Indigoblood getting to his feet.

 

Fuck.

 

*

 

That ball and chain? That's a huge fucking bitch of an ow and Vriska really doesn't appreciate it, feeling there's at least something broken in her side, at worst, she's just going to have a nasty, massive bruise at best. She both admires and hates trolls with unique weapons; Kanaya and her bladesaw that she doesn't know Vriska heard her fondly calling it Seam Ripper , her moirail (admittedly sometimes spade) and her cane, that one Burgundy that used to live in the village had something similar to that ball and chain.

The Indigo using it has a pretty good idea of the physics of it, throwing himself along like that. Vriska needs to put him down before he does to her. She hasn't tried to throw her mind out, she can hold a

Navy or two for a decent few minutes, but she's never gone higher than that-- the backlash might put her down too hard.

 

Vriska takes too long to get up, snarling as the one she thought she'd slit open fists her hair to the scalp, immediate pain and panic that she only manages to quash-- Vriska squirms for no one.

Karkat's Indigo surprise-saves her again, taking a leap off the caravan and onto her assailant; he's not quite an adult, she realizes (well, neither is she, Vriska's been on land because this perigee or the next she's supposed to cocoon and pupate). All of these other ones are, tougher skin, tougher everything-- not staying dead when they should be. She sees it now, that he's not entirely grown into his body.

Vriska drops but hey the pain is mostly gone from her head now, looking up at Karkat's Indigo as she assumes he calls at her. "What, and leave aaaaaaaall the fun to you?" She moves and something t w i n g e s, which isn't great but she isn't coughing up blood, so nothing is quite broken inside but still, "Yeah, I'll get 'im. It's not just you that'd cut me up if anything happens to him." Sword sheathed and holding in her side as she runs, Vriska throws her mental net out, turning to where more trees and shrubs are. Wondering where Tavros is that he hasn't already come to gripe at her for her dying stock-beast-- remembering he's helping take the Lusii to the sister village. Just her fucking luck, huh. Still, help is needed.

 

 

"Yeah, I'm fucking shaking. You came in with that caravan that slammed me and my friend, of course I'm fucking shaking . You obviously don't want to hurt me, because me standing here with this wouldn't have mattered to you. So what do you want? What, gonna try and convince me to come with you? I ain't got a reason to."

Karkat feels a little bolder just by holding the sickle, yelling at the Indigo and...Lime?? Limebloods were wiped out sweeps ago, so he's not sure if he's looking at a too bright Olive or an off-hued Jade.

The wind picks up, blustering the things around them, and for a moment Karkat smells his own sugar, but...the wind is blowing from behind...
"...Are...are you..?"

 

His question is left open, Vriska rushing him and being tall enough to scoop Karkat over her shoulder, not without being herself and quipping, "Later!" as she takes off with him, seeming like they were heading back toward the village.

 

*

 

The Limeblood hisses to herself before taking off at a surprisingly fast speed, sprinting, jumping over and under the forest.

"No later , now! I need to get back to The Grand Highblood!" She shouts, panting -- kicking up a whirlwind of that sickly-sweet scent.

It's obvious she's not wearing anything beneath the shift -- when she hops a fallen log, that's double obvious, but it's just as obvious that she's not going back to the caravan.

Behind her -- farther behind than she'd expected -- she hears her companion, legs pumping.

That Indigoblood, not yet an adult, is good in close quarters -- but she's been awake for days and nights, and her nerves were already weak before they'd been caught.

"We were captured by those adults! At least -- at least take us to a fucking village!" The Limeblood manages to shout out, hearing her companion absolutely eat shit behind her.

Running is her strong suit -- since wielding a weapon is, more or less, useless when she has all the muscle mass of a fattened oinkbeast. Her Indigoblood is just tough based on the merits of her caste.

Even so, even with all the practise, she's beginning to tire.

 

After all, it isn't as if she'd been sleeping or eating very well since being captured.

 

*

 

Karkat trusts that even less, that the Limeblood says she needs to get back to The Grand Highblood. Gamzee's only mentioned the myth of a troll a few times, but it sounds like bad news regardless. Vriska advises against continuing talking, and Karkat would ordinarily agree, but...

"Why help you?? You could be lying for all we know! Why would we bring potential ruin back to our village!?" He needs something, she's asking for help but Karkat needs something more to hear that he won't regret taking her with them

 

*

 

"If I were lying, I would've broken your neck between my thighs already!" She huffs and pants, throwing herself over the forested ground just to keep up.
She's no Cerulean, after all -- even if that Cerulean's bogged down with a mutant.

"That was his descendant, right?! The one you left back there to die?! Staying with you would be better than staying with a bunch -- " she trips, flails, and pushes off a tree, "a bunch of adults who just want to rape me!" She's going green in the face, and her vision is narrowing.

"Maybe, I thought you'd understand how fucking hard it is to be a breeder in this world! Tell your stupid Blueblood to stop -- " Finally, the Limeblood's legs give out, and she tumbles to the ground, heaving into the dirt.

The Indigoblood chirps, trying to haul herself after them as fast as possible.

"Don't kill her!" She screams, gone from subdued to panicked.

"Don't kill her, don't kill her!" Her own legs burn, reminding her of sitting in a fragrant tent, praying, while the Limeblood ran laps; tried to keep her own body under wraps with constrictive clothing and forced training.

 

*

 

Karkat bristles first, almost digging into Vriska's back which gets a " Hey! " that he stops, "I'm not leaving him! I can't leave him! We're going to get help!"

She does confirm his earlier thoughts; the Limeblood is a breeder, too. The tidbits of what's happened to them begin to twist a little more into that part of his brain and heart that makes him feel guilt and pity, about to roll off of Vriska's shoulder when she turns around anyway-- "Did she just call me stupid ???? She did not just call me stupid .." --just to see that the Limeblood had tumbled down, the Indigo screeching at them.

There's a manic air about her, as if her pan isn't altogether, insisting that they don't kill the Lime girl. Vriska comes to a slow, letting Karkat down even though she's huffing under her breath about the Lime.

"We won't, hey! Calm down, we're not gonna!" Karkat's still uneasy about them, doesn't know them and just because the Lime is a breeder doesn't just make an immediate kinship between them. He still comes closer, cautious, hands out and open-palmed, looking between the two while trying to think, "....Tell us your names, first. Please."

 

*

 

The small Indigoblood hisses, throwing herself atop the heaving Limeblood.
Struggling to catch her breath, the Limeblood props herself up, shakily wiping dirt from her cheek.

"Xia..." Her other hand fists itself at the hem of her shift.

"Zhen." She folds her scraped knees beneath herself, her blood that same unnatural hue as her eyes.

"And I did call you stupid." Xia pants, shrugging Zhen off -- reaching under the Indigoblood's sleeve to pull out her arm.

It ends in a stump at the wrist.

 

"Those adults aren't above harming their own kind, or raiding their own kind. Look what they did to Zhen. Look! That was after they took off her fingers, one-by-one." She releases the Indigoblood, who shuffles her long sleeves back over her missing hand.

On wobbly legs, the Limeblood stands.

"I'm Xia Zhen, The Grand Highblood's mate. This ," she points down to her companion, "is Xié Zhen. The Jades naming our clutch were lazy fucks -- probably just assumed I'm some mutated Oliveblood. As if ." She helps haul Zhen to her feet, who eyes the mutant breeder as warily as she does the Blueblood.

"Call her 'Zhen'. The Grand Highblood took a liking to her." Xia doesn't need to say he also took a liking to her, preferring instead to pat off Zhen.

"She snuck onto the caravan when those adults stole me. She's been protecting me for... twelve nights, I think." By 'protect' she means taking the beatings, hissing and clawing at the adults.

"I don't know what else you want from me. I could tell you how we lived, or give you The Grand Highblood's hatchling-name -- but I could just lie, couldn't I? The only proof I have is that, while everyone back there thinks they're fighting off a particularly sturdy Navyblood, I know he's an Indigoblood; he's The Grand Highblood's direct descendant." She points to her own spherical horns.

"They have the same damn horns, the same damn build; everything." Her chest expands when she pulls in a breath, finally feeling like she can stand properly.

"If that's not enough for you, then fine. I can't make you do or believe anything. That Blueblood could probably punt Zhen into the fucking ocean, anyways. Maybe not kill her, but..." Xia shrugs, showing open palms.

 

*

 

Their names are strangely short, almost like the foreigners from the other continent that come to trade, but Karkat knows what they look like, the trolls before him are new, if battered and tired.

And harmed. He can feel Vriska tense at the sight of the Indigo's-- Zhen's --stumped wrist, eyes widening in horror at hearing what'd been done to her-- by her own , no less. The surprises don't stop there, Xia claims being The Grand Highblood's mate, and Karkat can't really contest that by his name-- he's never asked for his name from Gamzee.

They're tired and beaten, and if they're telling the truth then Karkat's guilt doubles down on him. Open palms are a gesture of placation, of peace, ' I have nothing in my hands to trick or hurt you with '; it's how Tavros and Rufioh still approach new beasts despite their shared ability of communion, how those with Second Sight learn to pray, how the Head Elder greets everyone and anyone who comes to see him how Karkat approached Gamzee when he wanted needless strife with Chahut.

Karkat trusts that.
He glances at Vriska, who rolls her eye not under the patch, saying it's his call while mumbling about being called stupid still.

"...we..we'll take you with us. Please, don't give me a reason to regret it."

 

*

 

"Didn't I already give your Blueblood a reason to regret it? I thought Ceruleans had thicker skins." Xia's dry attitude isn't exactly caustic; more like she's got no time to mince words.

"Then again, I've never really known anyone besides the clowns." She takes Zhen's pick from her hand, and stuff it into the tie at her waist.

A hand round her wrist, Xia leads Zhen to Karkat and his companion, sending a scant glance behind her.

"Where are we going to get help?" Her brows furrow.

"Those are adults . I was banking on making a run for it, maybe grabbing a suncloak -- they don't have enough of those for everyone in the caravan -- but, as you've seen, Zhen's spent her life praying rather than strifing." It's odd to see the Limeblood more robust than someone on the highest end of the hemospectrum, and there doesn't appear to be a discernable age gap between them; Xia did say they were from the same clutch, after all.

"Not that I doubt The Grand Highblood's descendant." Xia ammends, as if it matters.

It does, clearly, to her.

 

"You're the descendant's mate? I think I heard him say that." Xia asks, and Zhen gets between them, staring blankly at Karkat.

"Which one is he? There's a fake. Is he the fake?" Xia gives a tug on Zhen's arm, but she ignores it.

"I've heard his carapace is the same as The Grand Highblood's, but his blood is brighter. Almost heretical. I couldn't see your mate bleed, though..." She trails off, walking with her stump pressed to her lips, lost in her own mind.
Xia sighs.

"I'm sorry. Even before being captured, her mind was rotting. She probably won't make it to maturation. The Grand Highblood's been looking out for the same symptoms in me, since we were from the same clutch." Xia guides Zhen along, following Karkat and the Blueblood.

"What's it like, living in a village? I've only ever seen them in passing."

 

*

 

Thicker skins probably, but bigger egos yes, Vriska unappreciatively muttering under her breath about how they're helping them while they throw insults.

Karkat shakes his head, though if he was the one being called 'stupid'' he knows his attitude would change in a snap. "I'm Karkat. This is Vriska. We were just coming back from my village, and I was going to set back out again with my m--," Karkat chokes on the word 'mate', face steaming up and looking down so no one could see it (everyone can see it), "...with him. He was waiting for me..," he clears his throat and tries to force his face back to something not-blushing, "There're adults in my village. My clademate is an adult, and I've yet to see anyone beat the village Head. If anyone can help, it'll at least be them."

 

The way she says she doesn't doubt Gamzee sounds like Gamzee does have some hold in Purple hierarchy, but Karkat wouldn't know much about that. Xia asks if he's the descendant's mate, which prompts another flush in his cheeks, Karkat muttering quietly, "M-Mate-to-be," since there wasn't any kind of official ceremony, they were still mostly promised words though, Karkat can't deny that Gamzee acts more like that is just a name and they're already bound together; can't deny that he feels that way too (did everyone pick up on it that they were basically mates??).

Zhen comes right up to him, and Karkat assumes by fake descendant she must mean Kurloz. Karkat doesn't give her an answer when she doesn't press further for one; it's not his answer to give away. Instead, Zhen trails off into another tangent of thought, Xia explaining that she was, in fact, suffering from some kind of panrot.

"It's alright. As for my village...it's small, compared to a city, so you know everyone and vice versa. It might just be me, but it feels like everyone cares about their neighbor, cares about you. It's kind of like....," Karkat thinks about the kind of word to use, "...like a family-clade, you're probably not quadranted to anyone, or maybe you might be, but you care about them the same...," he blinks before adding in nervously, "Well, unless you meant chores and mundane stuff, then yeah, that's boring but someone's gotta do it, or else it'd never get done."
he looks away, biting his lip, "How......how is it, being The Grand Highblood's mate?" Then Karkat tries to speak quietly, not wanting to sound rude, "Did....did you...carry..for him yet?"

 

*

 

"It's probably a better life than what I'd live in a village. I wouldn't even have a Lusus. I've never seen another troll with my blood colour." Although she exists on the hemospectrum as an extinct link between Gold and Olive, she's never seen a Lusii with her lime-green blood.

"He protects me, makes sure I'm comfortable. If I had no sense of self, I'd be living like a Violetblood." As it is, in her baggy shift, Xia looks the farthest thing from any type of royalty.

Given her place on the hemospectrum, that's not too far from the truth.

"Purplebloods are stupidly loyal." She mentions, mostly to herself, perking at the question of carrying .

"Last sweep." A tickle of lime rolls down her calf, but she doesn't show her pain.

"We put the grub in fresh sopor, like Jades do, but it passed before we even named it." She talks like it doesn't bother her, but the hand picking at the hem of her shift says otherwise.

"We haven't tried again. He's worried I might have panrot -- which wouldn't stop me producing healthy grubs, just... that was unlucky." Her hand raises, as if to rest on her stomach, but she resolutely return it to the hem of her shift.

"It probably died because it was Lime, like me. If it were Purple, I'm sure it would've lived. I mean, there's a reason Limebloods died out. Even if I weren't a breeder, there's nothing special about me. Goldbloods have their psionics, Olivebloods are robust; I taught myself to run fast so I could do something other than laze around all day." Finally, a light flush comes over her cheeks.

Karkat's not asking about that .

"I like travelling with The Grand Highblood. Carrying isn't bad, either. I felt... calm. It was nice. I'd do it again." She scoffs.

"Probably just breeder instincts talking, but the moment you start showing, your mate isn't even going to want to let you walk , much less do anything other than nest."
"She cried over the grub." Zhen murmurs.

"She cried like an absolute wriggler, and took up all The Grand Highblood's time. If he wasn't trying to calm her down, then he was looking for ways to cheer her up." Her black lips press to her stump, turning away from the hiss Xia sends her way.

"Whatever! I'm sure Karkat won't have the same problem! He looks like a fine breeder, and he has a fine mate." Xia argues, gesturing to Karkat's shapely body.
Zhen nods, doe-eyed.

"Yeah, but he's a mutant -- you haven't mated, yet?" She asks, as if that were a perfectly normal question.

"Xia might be carrying. It's hard to tell. She smells the same to me as always." Xia trills, her cheeks finally heating to a deep green.

"Quiet."

 

*

 

Karkat wants to posit that he's a mutant and yet he has a Lusus, but after thinking that through some more, it sounds like bragging and probably just rude, so for that he keeps his mouth shut. "I wanna say you might like my village, but maybe I'm biased. Obviously, we don't really care about caste, only when newcomers come to trade-- that's how I found out I was a mutie, actually. I scraped my knee while playing with the other kids, but the blueblood that was there saw and threatened to report me to some authorities. I dunno if he did, he never came back after that and no one came after me, so that was the end of that. Right?" This, he directs to Vriska, who only gives an "Mhm, yup."

(Vriska was there, actually, just learning the trade of a merchant, of being a proper businesswoman before she saw her opportunity to become a pirate; she can multitask. That blueblood though..., practically a shame to Cerulean, in that Kanaya told her that the adults of the village came together and, well...painted quite the vivid picture of what really happened.)

 

The more Xia talks about The Grand Highblood, the more.... not -horrifyingly terrible and scary he seems, almost like any other horn-over-heels troll... almost . She probably didn't mean for it to be heard but with all of Karkat's attention on her, he does; if not stupidly loyal, then stupidly possessive.......intrusively, Karkat wonders if the line just has a thing for blood mutants-- like ancestor like scion.
His hand comes up to his mouth when she talks about her grub-- it's always a sad day, when one of the other breeders (those who are active in breeding anyway) happens to lose a grub. It's rare, but it still happens; the death is treated like any other funeral and neighbors come to help the grieving however they can, making food or doing house or chore work, anything that helps. "I'm so sorry..," Xia talks like she's over it, but when she moves without thinking, it's clear that she isn't quite so much.

She says she'd do it again, despite her loss. Karkat isn't sure how he feels about it yet, even with the perks of his mate-- mate-to-be great, now he's doing it too --being doting and attentive.

 

Apparently more so, as Zhen throws in how Xia cried for her grub and took priority of her mate's time. They're obviously close, stumped wrist aside, with how they squabble words. When Karkat is dragged into it, he's flushing at the implied meaning that his body is going to be good for carrying, like his mate-to-be is going to be good for........ for ......

If he wasn't dying already, he absolutely is when Zhen asks if they mated yet, devolving Karkat to warbly sounds and babbled nonsense from the things going through his head.

Once he can get sort of calm, enough to ask anyway, he's curious as he hears the possibility. "Do you know if you are? Even if you aren't, my village will take good care of you. They're...actually moving to a new location, in a few nights, before some finned asshole can come and destroy it all."

 

*

 

"No," she turns her head, her uneven hair hitting her cheeks, "I haven't been able to do anything without those adults trying to pry my thighs apart. If they caught me checking myself like that, I'm sure one of them would hit me in the gut until something happened." Either her body would give up the grub, or her body would just give up; Xia doesn't mind the sound of the latter, but doesn't want to deal with the former.

It was tough enough to lose her first grub.

 

"I'd rather swallow my own tongue and die than let any one of them lay with me. Some Purplebloods have no fucking decorum -- and if your mate doesn't cull them, mine will." She crosses her arms loosely, partially over her stomach.

If they had time, she'd ask to stop by a stream to bathe and inspect herself, but they're supposed to be getting help.

Zhen hooks her arm into the crook of Xia's, and tries to keep pace with the trio.

"Anyway," Xia starts, "it's a nice offer, but I need to get back to my mate. I'm not going to wait in some village with the hopes he'll find me. I was hoping, when I saw your mate, that you'd have a caravan -- Zhen knows how to make special stardust and elixir, and I can clean, cook, butcher, set up and dismantle tents." She almost allows a hint of excitement into her voice before redirecting it.

"That's a question for your mate, though. I'll ask him when it's appropriate. You two obviously have your circumstances, disguising your colours."

"Karkat," Zhen pipes up, "where's your caravan? You have one, right? Everyone has one, even me." She points to herself with her stump, accentuating how cullable she is.
Xia tries, and fails, to make she shush.

"If I can spend all my time praying in tents for a cure, then there's no reason for His descendant to be all by his lonesome." Zhen continues, gingerly nudging Karkat with her stump.

"So, where are they? Were they disrespectful? Did he cull them all?"

 

*

 

Karkat can't imagine Karkat can imagine, he's read it, but as far as for real? Reality and fantasy are two different things for a reason, they're meant to stay that way having to deal with such a thing. He thought something like that would happen when Gamzee first took him, even when he was being dragged all the way to the outer walls of Ampora's city, and he's more relieved than anything that it didn't Gamzee would've truly become a monster to him if he did.

"At least let us tend to your wounds," Karkat says 'us' like he's forgotten he's not staying with his village-- he hasn't, it's just an ingrained thing, "The quicker we get there, the faster I can get some help, too."

Xia is right that there are circumstances, it's Zhen who asks about it, why they don't have a caravan. Karkat's heart lurches, but they don't stop walking, his face turning solemn. "They're-- no, they weren't. I was. It's my fault." He's not going to be allowed to forget about it, and Karkat doesn't want to, at least not yet. "We... had a misunderstanding. A miscommunication. It was my fault. And everyone is hurt because of it. So they're somewhere safe where they can rest. I'm assuming we're gonna go back for them the moment we can."

That's all Karkat wants to say about it, not speaking of the matter anymore. The village gates are soon in sight and Vriska is the one who runs ahead, the rest of their party trekking behind. Kanaya had come out to meet the blueblood, running down once she spots Karkat. "What happened??"

After some explanation and Karkat's pleading, a cart is drawn up to a musclebeast, Kanaya and another Teal adult, the Head Elder going with them-- if anyone could take down an adult Indigo, it's going to be the Elder.

 

*

 

Like an Indigoblood, Xia stands uncomfortably just at the outskirts of the village.
She's not injured , and she did what she could for Zhen's hand; it's partially-healed, and there's no way to reattach it. She thinks they tossed it out onto the roadway once they'd hacked it off and, given the state of her bent and broken fingers at that point, it was probably a wise decision to remove the entire appendage.

Both outsiders watch the cart roll off, Xia's ears twitching.

"I can't." She shakes her head, and Zhen's gone unresponsive.

"I can't and I won't, Karkat. You have to understand I never grew up in a village or a city. This is alien to me. I'd rather just wait for your mate to get back. We're fine. You go..." Her brows cinch when she realises she doesn't know what trolls in villages do.

"You go do... chores? Honestly, you should wait with Zhen and I, but outsiders tend to have their own priorities. I'll respect yours if you respect mine." The potential number of heathens makes her skin crawl, and even seeing that old troll had made her want to bare her teeth -- rounded teeth, good for gnawing on fruits and vegetables.

 

Still good enough to bite through her tongue, though.

 

The adult with his slit neck no longer has a head attached to his body, although it took Gamzee a few tries to break the bone, sever the flesh; he'd also managed to disarm the troll with the ball-and-chain, and has been putting that to good use.

It took him a few minutes, a few tries, but then he's effortlessly tossing himself from troll-to-troll, slamming into them.

By the time he even hears any approaching beasts, the last adult is twitching, choking; the iron chain wrapped tightly around his neck.

Still, cautious, Gamzee grabs his clubs and scuttles behind the abandoned caravan. It might make him look guilty -- but no one would care about an Indigoblooded spat. A few less of them on the planet, as far as any other caste is concerned.

 

He is concerned about Karkat's whereabouts, but he trusts that the Blueblood at least knows he'll hunt her down if anything happened to Karkat.

Chapter 15: This Plane, It No Longer Belongs

Notes:

They finally get back on the road, lol.
Meanwhile, you had your OC breeder and Karkat talk shop.

Of course, in other chats we were able to make their relationship and rapport bloom, we were able to bring life to your characters and entwined them into our writings in ways I hadn't imagined. I still have the backstory and refs about your OCs from our shitposting chat.

I figure, aside from you simply telling me that you're back, that those were another way to try and find you. I did try once, though no luck.
Perhaps I could try again.

Karkat has the strongest urge to smack his palms to his face, Xia and Zhen being adamant and skittish to even stepping foot in the village, not even going beyond the gate. Did Purple stubbornness just rub off on everybody?? Zhen he'd understand, sort of, but Xia...Karkat doesn't understand (he wishes he did, it'd help so much if he did).

"Fine, then...you'll wait here, right?"

When they get back to the road, he'd have to see if anything that tipped from Vriska's cart was still salvageable, she'd want to as well. Hopefully his bag is alright and nothing is wasted. Karkat comes back to Xia and Zhen, a string of dried fruit and another of meat hung over his shoulders and a water skin in hand, "Will you both at least take food and drink?"

 

The musclebeast is good for bursts of speed, exactly what is needed here, where time matters and Karkat had pleaded for help. Kanaya goes not just because Karkat asked, but because she has something to check with the bodies-- if there wasn't anyone still alive. For Karkat's sake, his Indigo should still be kicking.

Well, when they arrive, the Elder pulling the reigns to a halt-- the Elder has a fondness for musclebeasts, he'd insisted on driving --, it seems that the fight is already mostly over, a count of four bodies on the ground. That's four assailants accounted for, but one clown boyfriend missing (now that Vriska's put it in her head she can't get it out, go figure), "Elder" Kanaya says as she hops out of the cart, looking carefully at the scene before making any decision to move forward, "Four dead but none of them are Karkat's."

The Elder gives a solemn hum, the other adult climbing out of the cart to stand ready. If the original attackers are already dead, then where was Karkat's Indigo? But Kanaya feels again, picks up on the blood; it's three very much dead, one fading fast, and one well and alive.

It's the Head Elder who tries first, rumbling out in his deep, subterranean voice, "Young one, we've only come to assist you, even though we're quite late, aren't we?" he pauses, even though he knows words only do so much against those set on their own way, "If you've finished here, why not ride with us? We'll take you right to your mate; he's waiting on good news of you."

 

*

 

"Quite." Gamzee makes sure to enunciate the word, to not sound 'uneducated'; maybe a bit trite, seeing as he's inside the abandoned caravan, rifling through their stacked belongings for anything halfway decent.

"Does my mate doubt me? I'd brought him the head of Cronus Ampora." Gamzee hops from the caravan, exhausted but utterly unwilling to show it.

"One would assume that to be proof enough for faith." He'd shoved some food into his bag, and walks slowly, keeping a wide berth around the cart and its trolls.

Gamzee doesn't miss the Jadeblood -- the pesky bitch -- but neither does he attack her. It'd be a pain in the ass to deal with her atop two highblooded adults. He'd just finished with four of his own caste.

That musclebeast would probably have a go at him, too, and they're notoriously strong.

"I hope you'll understand when I choose to retrieve my mate on foot." No bow, no courtesy, as he slinks into the tree line; there's a palpable cultural divide that won't allow Gamzee to recognise this Elder as anything but an old troll. An adult.

 

That same divide exists for Xia and Zhen, although Xia's visibly surprised when Karkat brings them supplies.

She regains control of her expression soon enough, although the Limeblood doesn't reach for the proffered goods.

"'Take' as in...?" She'll admit that she aches, that she hungers and thirsts, but only to herself.
"If you're rejecting us from joining your caravan, I'd like it to be made clear." She states, glancing up to the sky briefly, wondering how far on-foot she and Zhen could get.

"We won't take offence. I know it's a lot to ask with little proof. I just need you to be clear with me, because you know how clowns speak; half of what they say is nonsense, and I still can't entirely understand their scripture." Zhen would be a good example if not for the panrot.

She holds down her shift still, glancing down the road.

"You've heard it, haven't you? I grew up with it. It's still odd." She scoffs quietly, "luckily for us, they worship breeders."

 

*

 

Ah, so taking heads is still a strong custom. The Elder doubts Karkat understood much of the meaning when he'd likely been presented with one. He chuckles, a rich sound from his chest, not having spoken with someone Indigo for a long, long time. It's part refreshing while also reminding him of old frustration. He also doubts that Karkat is going to get the blessing he wanted any time soon.

"If you'll walk, may I walk with you? Or if not with you, just on the road then, since we are going the same way." The Elder heavily steps out of the cart, much to his smaller companions' dismay; he isn't following him, they are simply headed to the same destination. "I am amazed, at how closely you resemble your ancestor. If your hair were any longer, you'd be his spitting image." He certainly remembers The Grand Highblood in his youth, wonders if his age has yet to show in the way it has done to the Elder.

 

Kanaya huffs after the Elder leaves, wondering why he'd bother when it was clear the Indigo could care less. She stays behind, having a job to do. Making careful note of Vriska's cart and the state of things in the area, asking Cerrik, the Teal adult, to take Karkat's things back up the road, since he went through the trouble to get supplies for his mate-- a mate that she shared scowls with but it looks like another fight won't be had this time around.

That fading Indigo is easy to find, being so close to death. Some sort of ball and chain wrapped tight around his neck, an annoying obstruction to her. Kanaya picks him up quite easily, not quite able to break the chain and so has to unravel it manually if she wants to do anything. He's too disoriented from being strangled, any movement he makes is weak, but he's coming back the more air he breathes. Without much fanfare she bites in his jugular, taking in the strengthening flow of blood in draining gulps.

 

Karkat could cry right now. Was doing something to be nice or kind-- or even accepting such things --just something unheard of to Purplebloods?? Frustrated with Xia, Karkat's exasperation shows, "No, it doesn't mean anything! I mean for you to take the damn food and eat it because there's no other meaning! Because my arms are tired of holding it, if you need a reason that badly!" His hands are out until she takes the stuff, making Karkat huffy. "Doesn't mean any kind of rejection, I'm bringing you food because I'm worried and you've just told me the both of you weren't treated well."

He's frustrated by their ways. But Xia says she's grown up with it, whereas Karkat expected her to understand more because she wasn't Indigo; it was wrong on his on his part, but it's still frustrating.

 

"Yeah, I've heard prayer and preaching...it's wasn't terrible so much as...," unsettling, but still Karkat kept his mouth shut and was respectful of the fact it's not his beliefs, "...strange to me, guess because I'm new to this...." Karkat sighs and hums at her statement, that breeders are worshipped right. Just because Karkat took being slapped and beaten doesn't mean he isn't holding some bitterness about it.

Karkat squints, a thought coming to his mind, "Wait, so if you're The Grand Highblood's mate, why did those adults capture and run off with you? Isn't that something big to be punished for?? Or did they not care that much about the consequences?"

 

*

 

"One would assume you're the troll possibly carrying with that attitude." Xia offers Zhen a multitude of items, eventually giving up and slipping a piece of dried fruit between the Indigoblood's lips.

"You're new, and you're going to need to get used to it. The way Purplebloods live is so vastly different to this ," she rips off another chunk of dried fruit, feeding Zhen like she were a sick pupa, "that, as incomprehensible as their lives are to you, the same applies to them. Everyone wants us -- them -- dead. Can you fucking blame them for distrusting others?" When Zhen won't take a third slice of fruit, Xia holds the water skin to her lips, and tries to get the Indigoblood to drink.

Apparently, she's not thirsty, so Xia takes a small sip herself.

 

"They see their own kind and figure it'd be a fun pastime to chop off a hand -- only after breaking all the fingers, of course. They were going to start on the other hand later tomorrow." Xia takes another sip of water.

"It helped me keep track of time. They'd break a finger, let it ache for a night, then break another finger; simple." Evidently, she's gotten good at keeping things bland and blunt; if Zhen hears her, she pays her no mind.

 

At Karkat's question, she stops, a flush creeping up her neck.

"I'm not sure they knew." She shifts her weight, arms crossed under her chest.

"I was out for a run... a little far from the caravan. I kept getting in the way of everyone else, and I figured -- well, we hadn't seen another caravan in so long, you know?"
The Limeblood eyes an outcropping of brushes.

"I'm going to go check myself. Watch Zhen, please." With that, she wanders off into the bushes, and crouches down. Sounds of shuffling fabric and shifting leaves follow.

 

"Do what you will." Gamzee responds evenly, always keeping a line of trees between them. Sometimes more, sometimes fewer; the terrain is rough, something he'd not noticed on his run over.
At the mention of his ancestor, Gamzee's gaze flickers to the Elder -- and he does resemble the older troll almost exactly.

"I should be. I'm his direct descendant. If you know that much, then you must know of his other direct descendant. My blood's a better match." Although, in a too-large Navy tunic, Gamzee doesn't feel it.

"We travel in the same caravan. He has yet to cull me." Gamzee adds, stepping over fallen, rotted logs.

"I don't want to impose on your village any longer than necessary. I know how these things go. However," Gamzee adjusts his bag, "my mate has yet to understand. He may insist we stay longer than needed." Albeit, the idea of sleeping next to Karkat sounds wonderful right about now.

"I make no promises to heathens. My caravan members were severely injured. I'd like to return to them."

 

*

 

So the Elder does. He walks an easy pace, and it's nice, he hasn't had a good walk for a while-- everyone wants to worry about his age and keep him cooped up which while is well-intended, the Elder is definitely more sturdy than that. "I've heard of your blood-sibling, yes. It's amazing, the kind of news that reaches a village as small as ours. I've never seen him, but I imagine, blood aside, he looks very much like your ancestor also." Humming a laugh, that culling a blood-sibling seems to have carried down as well. "Just as well. You'd not have been able to meet our Karkat."

 

Before the young Indigo can be upset about his wording, once he thinks about it remembering how his predecessor was like, the Elder adds, "Karkat will always be precious to us. That won't stop because he's yours." Rumbling a chirr about that thought, "Which may be just as well, too. Whenever and as long as he needs a refuge, we will always be there. There's no impose or inconvenience if we extend the invitation to you. Of course, we will not force you to accept." That is up to Karkat, if he's stubborn enough about staying one more day.

"I'll admit that things are not at our usual. We're preparing to move the village, to avoid the disaster that will follow with the Violet Princeling. However, that does not change our offer of refuge."

The Elder already knows it's going to be difficult, for his words to be understood or to reach Karkat's Indigo; he's prepared for that, thanks to a lifetime prior. "Have you tried to understand him? Have you tried to help him understand you?" Karkat once explained to him, after getting the Elder's attention to humor a pupa, how he'd read all about quadrants and relationships and how they work, that understanding and communication is the most key part of anything; he'd always been such a clever thing, learning almost anything and everything he could through books or otherwise.

"You need not make promises to us heathens," he chuckles, that even to this day anything not a belief of the Mirthful is considered heathens and heresy. "Your promises should be made with your mate."
As they're walking, the musclebeast of their cart can be heard with it's heavy breathing, Kanaya and Cerrik in the cart. "We'll meet with you up ahead, Elder."

The Elder waves them on, though Kanaya looks out into the treeline; there are smears of Purple at her palms, wiped off of her mouth. She looks ready for the possibility of anything, though stiffly folding her arms and looking forward to where the gates become visible as they pass.

His smile stays, though the corners drop just a hint, "Breeders heal fairly quickly. It's one gift of many, in exchange for what they are meant to do, and Karkat heals the fastest I've seen in my lifespan."

He's calm, not making any other move other than going forward, same pace, same gentle lull, "Karkat's only said good things about you. When he first arrived, they may have faded but there were quite a number of bruises on him. I'd like to give the benefit of the doubt that they're the result of him being new to traveling so much..," The Elder doesn't have to look at him, and though he doesn't raise his voice there's a slight, distinct change in his tone, fists tightening behind his back, "...I will not see or hear of him being harmed," as soon as it came the tone is gone, his hands relax and his voice sounds more solemn, "Karkat is owed a great debt from me, and I will continue to pay it until it is done." For the rest of his lifespan, even because it was from his hands that flew the arrow which executed his predecessor.

 

Karkat flushes that to her he sounds like he's carrying. But he can get that, with everyone dismissing the caste-- even the blueblood he'd scammed out of her caegers had said some distasteful stuff about Indigos --, Karkat could see why there's a general distrust

He just wishes Gamzee would trust him and his judgment, at least sometimes (...well, most times, when Karkat knows he's right).

 

Zhen hardly reacts, he doesn't think she's even chewing. Won't take a sip of water either, Xia not sparing any details on what those adults did to her. It's horrible, and then to even think of being taken like that? Karkat can't.

She says she'd been too far from the caravan, was in the way and in getting out of the way she'd been plucked just like that.

 

Xia tells him she's going to check herself, asks him to watch Zhen as she walks toward denser foliage. Karkat looks away out of decency, having been taught how to check himself-- albeit with some great embarrassment --, since that's something no one is ever really comfortable with. Zhen is for the most part silent, not really doing anything after Xia's left. Karkat regards her curiously, wondering if when Xia came back if they'd let him get some wrappings for the stumped wrist, just so that it's not exposed to the elements and such, not knowing whether or not she could still feel pain through the end.

 

*

 

Gamzee walks and smiles, as though the threat has no bearing on him.

"You're in no position to threaten me, Executioner Darkleer ." The name drips from his lips like the disgusting title it is.

" Your caste should be the ones running, suffering, bleeding and dying -- yet, you're here, coddled by those who only consume Empirical propaganda. Isn't that funny? Isn't that a true test of faith spawned unto us by The Mirthful Messiahs?" His hand rests idly on the handles of his clubs.

"You have no leg to stand on, you coward. Your lifespan isn't long enough to right any wrongdoing -- and you have the nerve to tell me what to do?" Quietly, Gamzee chuckles.

"Your death will be a hideous, prolonged affair, Executioner. You should've remembered to bend the knee ." He could take him.

If he can take Violetbloods and adult Indigobloods, if he can burn in the Sun, then he can take a Navyblood past his prime -- but he breaks off into a jog, instead, getting ahead and away from the maddening Elder.

Once reaching the village outskirts, Gamzee spots Karkat.

"Are you alright?" He circles the mutant, stubbornly ignoring the village behind him.

"I want to go. If you won't go, I'll stay in the forest. Your Elder is -- " His lips form into a thin line.
Karkat won't listen to him, and he just wants to get back to everyone else.

 

"We can commandeer the dead clowns' caravan for our own, use it to get back to our Brothers and Sisters. Might be the caverns feeling a bit small for 'em." He still holds two clubs in one hand, glancing as a Limeblood emerges from the underbrush.

"Who is that? This clown, too -- she looks pan-dead." Subtly, Gamzee puts himself between the two females and his mate.

 

He's just fucking tired of this.

 

*

 

He is somewhat surprised, if only that he hasn't heard that title in such a long time. It should have disappeared into history the same way he did. Though it would stand to reason that Karkat's Indigo would know of such things, and the Elder isn't going to fret about it, he's heard much worse before. The Elder continues walking his pace, calm smile set as he passes the Indigo at the gates; even if his descendant is right and his entire life isn't enough to right the wrongs of the past, he's changed the course of things this much, and that's enough to believe his atonement is not done.

 

Kanaya and the Teal adult return first, Karkat looking up and waving as the pass him into the village, Kanaya calling to him that she'd bring his bag in a moment while Karkat asks if she could bring him some bandaging. Not too long after, Karkat turns to see Gamzee bounding toward him, expression brightening and waving to him also.

"Gamzee! I'm fine, are you.....alright?" He's circling him and it's a little weird but alright, Karkat giving him a look over once he stands in one place for long enough. Gamzee is a bit more bloodied than when Karkat left him, making him frown since he'd already been injured to begin with. He starts to say something about the Elder, wanting to leave (he's probably just unsettled, most people tend to be when they see the Elder) just coming up the path when Karkat sees him, smiles and waves to him too. Turning his attention back to Gamzee as he talks of taking the caravan and using it to get where they need to, like the caverns.

Looking put out and pitiable with a slight pout set to his lips at them going, "...If you really can't stand it, then we'll go. I just want to say goodbye," he mumbles.

"Mmh, we could. Have to hope the beasts they had are still alive, though." Xia emerges from the brush, only to have Gamzee on alert and finally notice the other Indigo next to Karkat, moving between them.

 

"Your mate is fairly capable, Karkat. You were worried for nothing." The Elder says with one of his warm smiles and a pat to his back, Karkat beaming as he passes them and through the gate.

Karkat looks back to Xia and Zhen, and then Gamzee, "They were captured by those adults. Hurt by them too. Xia says she's The Grand Highblood's mate, that they're both part of his caravan." He notices Kanaya standing just inside the gate, waiting with his bag and a suncloak, "Gimme a minute!" he says as he goes to retrieve his stuff.

 

*

 

"Thank-you." He murmurs, so soft only his mate can hear.

"Make sure no one follows us, I don't want no more 'misunderstandings'!" This he calls louder, almost tacking on that he'll take the head of anyone who bothers them -- but the threat, with Indigobloods, is implied.

Gamzee eyes the mutant Jadeblood -- a Limeblood breeder -- and the sickly little Indigoblood, exchanging a few words before allowing them to tag along.

Xia can help with cooking and cleaning, while Zhen... Gamzee's not too sure what the pan-rotted troll can do, but he's assured she's devout when her mind isn't wandering.

 

When Karkat returns to him, they set off back into the forest.

The trio of trolls is left at the sidelines, where there's only a suggestion of the strife which occurred; Gamzee finds three beasts; one dead, two alive. He unharnesses the dead one and, more or less, steals the Blueblood's beast, hooking it up to the caravan with ease.

These things come in a few different makes and models, but he knows how to work most of them.

 

Just as dawn is dusting the sky, the caravan pulls up beside Karkat, and Gamzee hops out.

"No tent-building materials up in there. Stupid bastards." He lifts Karkat by the waist, getting him into the caravan; this one lined on either side with benches, stolen from a Navyblood.

"They do got some fresh enough grub. Fruits, vegetables, some sort'a puffed wheat mix." Hopping in after Karkat, tugging the Lime and Indigo up, Gamzee stops.

All the food he'd packed earlier, he now replaces; dried goods, a can of grub slurry.
He kisses his mate on the cheek before donning a suncloak, and getting back out to steer the beasts.

 

They pull off, and Xia directs Zhen to sit.

"I know how to make a decent stew with puffed wheat. It tastes better when you let it sit a day. How about it?" She asks Karkat, wiping off her shift -- although, frankly, it's pretty dirty and no amount of patting will get anything any cleaner.

"I know how to steer caravans, too. Your mate and I can switch, if he'd like -- if you both wouldn't mind, I mean." Quick to correct herself, like Gamzee and Karkat are a package.

 

*

 

Kanaya apparently hears, and in Vriska-fashion pulls under her eye and sticks out her tongue toward Gamzee, Karkat snorting behind his hand as he takes his stuff from her. "Visit, if you can," Kanaya looks back toward the group outside with a click, both with her tongue and in her throat, "if he even has the sense to let you." They're saying their goodbyes again, Kanaya kissing his forehead and Karkat burrowing into her neck with a hug, being grateful to the Elder for his help and the map, grateful to Vriska who has her side patched up with pain-relieving salve underneath while throwing another rib about his clown boyfriend.

Karkat waves and walks backwards until he can't see the gate anymore, feeling a bit of weight in his chest that pulls a little too hard, enough for tears; he's only just left though, he can't cry already, wiping his face on his arm and resolving not to, at least until they're a decent ways away, enough for him to actually miss home.

Gamzee's gone and back before dawn starts to show, caravan in pretty workable condition and with benches inside, whoever owned this first had caegers to spare. Karkat is hoisted up first, with Gamzee coming after to pull in Xia and Zhen.

Squeaking at the kiss to his cheek, Karkat's too red in the face to properly say anything, taking stock and inventory of everything in the caravan, including what he's packed in his own bag and the medicine herbs he had stored in Gamzee's; Gamzee told him before that he liked hard candies that end up melting in the mouth, Karkat having nicked a pouchful of it (no one would have minded anyway! And it was one of the village kids who pilfered first!), the flavors of the local berries and plain honey (not even an idiot would touch mind honey) being what they're made with. He's thinking of giving them to him when he comes back in.

"We can make one in here? Without a fire?" But it's not a bad idea, and a stew sounds heartier than eating dried goods. "That sounds like it'd be pretty nice." Karkat blinks, brows angled inquisitively at how quick Xia is to reword herself, as if she'd almost offended Karkat. He lets it brush over, giving a small chuckle, "You're much more talented than me. I only know how to read and try out the things I've read."

 

*

 

"Me?" Her brows furrow, cheeks dusting green at the compliment.

"I just know how to live like this. I'd be totally useless in a village or a city. That... clade-ship everyone has going on, I couldn't live like that." She finds a large pot and eyeballs an amount of wheat into it, following it up with water; her hands are quick as she shreds dried meat, adding it to the concoction.

"You know, it's weird. Purplebloods live like every encounter with another troll might be their last because, as strong as they are, there's always someone stronger. Meaner. Faster. Maybe, they just blinked at the wrong time, and now they're dead. It makes that kind of community-living... uncomfortable." Her hands work in the pot, mixing the ingredients.

Carefully, Xia gets to her feet, creeping to the back end of the caravan.

"I mean, I kind of grew up with Purplebloods, so I'm biased toward them. The Grand Highblood always sends me , a fucking dead caste, and a disguised clown into cities for trade. Like he couldn't go in there and rip everyone's head off, or fry their brains." With quick motions, she plucks back the rear curtain, and pins it.

It takes some nudging and adjusting, but the pot is eventually under a small, oblong splotch of sunshine.

"And piss off Her Imperial Pettiness?" Zhen pipes up, gingerly rubbing her eyes with her remaining hand.

"I'm surprised your, uh, 'Elder' was so eager to go meet your mate. It didn't look like they fought. Too bad, bringing his pathetic head to The Grand Highblood might've made all my mush thinkmeats worth the trouble." Zhen kicks her legs idly, Xia rounding on her.

"That wasn't him ." She says, grabbing a water skin, offering it to Karkat.

"It was him. Doesn't it sound like something he'd do, anyway? Hide off in some backwater village? Avoid responsibility for his actions, shove it all onto us?" Zhen waves her stump, "textbook Executioner Darkleer. We'll have to let The Grand Highblood know his insubordinate subordinate is still kicking, still regretting the day he was hatched." Like this, Zhen sounds less like a scared wriggler and more like a proper Purpleblood.

Xia clicks her tongue.

"Don't listen to her. Old Purpleblood writings. They're so nonsensical, I've probably tried to read them half a dozen times and given up." Xia takes a seat beside Karkat, leaving enough space between them for modesty.

"The stew should cook in the light, and..." After a moment of contemplation, she leans over, "I am carrying."

 

*

 

Karkat shakes his head, "Knowing how to do anything is a talent, at the very least a great skill." Though, he bets if he tried his best, he could do just as much as the next troll, idly watching how Xia begins making the stew, what she does with her hands. Karkat sighs, "Well, I grew up like that, with everyone practically clade-ship, sheltered, coddled and soft-minded. I would never have left if gill-fucker hadn't sent guards for me. I'll respect your biases if you respect mine."

Xia is clever, too, using the glass of the caravan and the daylight to pinpoint heat right at the pot, Karkat watching with wide-eyed interest.

Zhen speaks up, Karkat mentally commending her for the name she gives the Empress-- before his face darkens, not even taking the water skin from Xia. "...I don't know what you're insinuating, but if anyone comes after my village after you saying such a thing, I will get you before your panrot does. Whoever your Darkleer is, it's not my village's elder." His voice takes a slow, rising, hissing snarl until it stops altogether, Karkat only looking at Zhen with narrowed eyes.

Whatever writings there are, Karkat's going to agree with Xia as far as it being nonsense.

Still scowling but most of his momentary flare of anger dissipated, Karkat looks down at the floor, "I'm sorry.."

Though he's blinking up with wide eyes as he hears her, "You are??" His voice is hushed, like it's something that doesn't need to be shared. "How are you? Are you doing alright?" He tries not to look her over, in case it might be rude.

 

*

 

"Ooh, he doesn't know ." Zhen swings her legs like a wriggler, smiling even when Xia bares her teeth in a silent hiss.

Not a very threatening gesture, given her lack of proper fangs.

" Both of you, quit it. You ," she points to Zhen, "don't have the authority or the knowledge or the experience to say who is who -- and you ," that finger turns to Karkat, "won't lay a single frond on Zhen." Her scolding seems to pass by Zhen, who trills, but doesn't bother them further.

 

Xia gets up the check on the stew, even though it's only been a few minutes; it's something to do, at least.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. You can't even tell I'm carrying, yet." She stands, and holds her shift taut to demonstrate; a flat stomach. Perhaps flatter than it ought to be for a breeder, all of her efforts paying off in making her just slightly more lean than Karkat.

"I can still do everything I used to do, so I'm not useless yet . A breeder without their mate, though... is pretty much a waste of space." She comments on herself, eyeing the stew.
It isn't yet hot enough outside to get the pot bubbling, so she creeps back, this time sitting beside Zhen.

Maybe it was a case of jealousy; the Indigoblood leans against her, lids fluttering shut.

"You're lucky, you know?" Xia eases Zhen's weight onto her lap, petting the troll's short, curly hair.

"Your mate, I mean. My original caravan was trying to pawn me off on some fucking Cerulean when The Grand Highblood found me. His mate-day gift was their assorted heads -- and the Cerulean's head." She smiles at the memory, her features lightening, turning youthful when she does it.

When she smiles, Xia looks like any other breeder; meant to be beautiful.

"Zhen hand-wrote me their scripture as her gift. In Alternian, not Beforian -- the original's apparently written in Beforian, but I can't read that. I can barely read Alternian." She scoffs quietly, affection in her voice before she turns the conversation to Karkat.

"How do you feel about your mate? I noticed that you... haven't adjusted to this lifestyle, yet. You haven't been together long?"

 

*

 

Karkat frowns at Zhen, but doesn't do anything more since Xia's already scolded the both of them.

True to her word, with the shift pulled tight against her front there's no way anyone else would know from sight if Xia was carrying. Saying she's useless without her mate though-- because Karkat can read through things like that sometimes --sounds a bit harsh. Karkat doesn't think he would be useless without Gamzee-- unprotected maybe, easy target yeah , but not useless; he means, he was without Gamzee for a good couple of nights, wasn't he?

 

Xia sits back down and Zhen seems to have gone back into her head, being shifted to lay in the Limeblood's lap. Tells Karkat he's lucky, having him give her a quizzical look until she elaborates. It seems presenting decapitated heads was a thing and Karkat smiles and nods despite not getting it; Gamzee took a head for him, and promised to take another, obviously there's a deeper meaning to it than just asking for forgiveness.

But the memory does make her smile, makes her features absolutely light up; Xia is a very pretty troll (and mate-day gifts must be more than just that; Karkat's sad to have lost Barzum and Baizli's gifts, even if they were stones from the river).

She asks Karkat about-- "Ah..!? O-Oh...," he thought she meant literally how he felt about Gamzee, but she just means in the general sense...at least he hopes she does. "It's been a couple weeks, almost? Give or take."

A lot has happened in that time, it feels. Or rather, it was one big thing after the other and then a plateau of time passing. Karkat sighs, "No, I've not adjusted yet. That's going to at least take some time. And then Gamzee...," how did Karkat feel about Gamzee?

At times, he's proven to be extremely likeable-- remembering Xia saying 'stupidly loyal' --, yet at others he was stubborn and unyielding, and that's coming from someone stubborn and unyielding, like Karkat had to pull fangs if he wanted to even think about a compromise happening. He looks to Xia, hoping she'd know how to explain it to him, ".....what exactly does being gifted someone's head mean?"

 

*

 

Xia's brows raise, and she takes a moment to process the question.

"It can mean... a lot of things. Depends on the context. It's obviously a show of strength, especially if it's a Navy, Purple, or Violet, but it's not really about that ." She bites her lip for a moment.

"The Purples Zhen and I were with didn't treat us very well so, when I was presented their heads, it was a show that he'd treat me better than they did. The Cerulean was more like a promise to cull anyone who comes after me, romantically or otherwise... Does that help? Purplebloods aren't very good at just saying what they mean, are they? They have all these rituals to go through just for -- for eating and sleeping , moving around Alternia 'like an infestation'." She chuckles, quietly shifting from beneath Zhen.

The Indigoblood chirrs and curls up, small as a pupa; her features, in sleep, are youthful.
She'd pass for a young, slender Oliveblood.

 

With the stew beginning to roil, Xia grabs a wooden mallet, and uses the handle to carefully stir the meal.

"You have feelings for him." Xia trills playfully, trying not to burn her fingers on the sunlight.

"The way your face lit up when he kissed your cheek said it all -- that's not how you'd act if you were intent on hating him." She uses the handle of the mallet to drag the pot out of the sunlight, leaving it to boil on its own while she shuts the curtains.

The stew has thickened, slices of meat and vegetables reconstituted in the water; its formed a sort of broth.
She gets back on her knees, stirring their meal.

"Do you want to tell me what your gift was, or...? It'll take time to adjust, for both of you, but it's not a bad life when you have the right trolls around you. I really like living with The Grand Highblood. He takes care of Zhen, and... She wasn't lying about how I was after we lost the grub. I would've been fine to die in a corner." Another smile, this one lopsided.

"I expected them to toss me out as a defective breeder, but I don't think that crossed anyone's mind." When the stew stops its rolling boil, Xia stops stirring.

"Do you want to call your mate in to eat? I could drive, or... we could rest? I don't mean to tell you two what to do." Xia drags the pot closer to the centre of the caravan, and tosses down a few soft items to sit on; blankets, pillows, ripped-open plush dolls.

Notes:

This was another thing I loved about writing with you, that we could make things head toward things looking up, and then maybe bring it all to crash down. One step forward, three back.
It was awful, of course, but beautifully so. We wanted angst and we sure done did it, lolol.

Chapter 16: Everything Given

Notes:

Another NSFW warning.

Of course no smut is complete without Gamzee being angy-salty and bitter but also 'no w8 gimme attention'.
In the commentary between you and I, we cracked ourselves silly while writing totally serious smut, many mentions of the new favorite word and general clowning around.

Once you go clown you never come down, you said.

We, the two-person board, applauded and gave many gavel-bangs for having reached this point.

There were, are, nuances that Karkat doesn't know about, but he's stringing together in his head-- first, that it was difficult, especially with the way they had been right before Gamzee went into the city, coming back with a Violet head to say he was that strong, and then all the other things that followed. He did say it was an apology and a promise, bringing back the head of Cronus Ampora .
"Mmh.., it's more than what answers I have been given," Karkat hums, "Not gonna lie, I would like to hear what he means straight on sometimes."

Xia stands again, going back to stirring the stew while Zhen curls up, seemingly asleep.
She surprises him, trilling that Karkat had some feelings for Gamzee, which has him sputtering. "I-- I -- !?" He can't even say anything, it's not.... untrue , Karkat did like him better than Ampora definitely , had even confessed that he was feeling something between them.

The stew seems to be done while Karkat's busy calming down his steaming face, the curtain now drawn back and shutting out daylight. "W-Well..it was a royal seadweller's head-- the brother of the Ampora prince. I was supposed to be getting married to him, had me right at the altar too. Next thing I know, Gamzee's bursting through the window and saying how his Messiahs sent him here. I guess wishes do come true, I wished for something and I guess they heard it."

Xia looks happy for a moment, thinking about her time with The Grand Highblood, while turning more somber when talking about her grub.
"Oh..Well, I think we do need to stop and rest, it'd do some good." Karkat stands, making sure his suncloak is secure. "I'll grab him, see if we'll keep going or if we're gonna stop." Karkat comes through the way to the reigns, Gamzee driving the caravan forward.

"Gamzee?" Karkat calls out, trying not to look up and avoiding the rays of daylight, "Xia made a stew! D'ya wanna stop for a bit and take a break, come eat something?"

 

*

 

In his cloak, Gamzee's boiling .
He doesn't know how the lowbloods, with their hotter bodies, can stand this kind of heat -- he hates it -- but he's interrupted by Karkat, and the promise of food reminds him the last time he'd eaten.

It's been too damn long.
"Why the fuck not?" He answers, guiding the caravan to a stop just off the path.
He slouches into the back of the caravan, sloughing off his suncloak.

"You all been getting along?" He asks, unbelting his Navy tunic, shrugging it off to leave him only in black hose and a long, white undershirt.

"All been respectful and whatnot?" His arm wraps around his mate's waist, and he pulls Karkat down into the small piles surrounding the pot of food -- not to pile , although he virtually drapes himself over Karkat, head resting in the crook of the mutant's neck.

If Xia notices -- which she does -- she makes an effort to look the other way, preferring to wake Zhen up, and grab utensils.

"I think so. There was a disagreement about Karkat's village Elder; nothing more." The Limeblood reports, giving them all spoons -- and she finds three intact bowls, offering two out to Karkat and Gamzee.

Lazily, Gamzee swats one away.

"I'll share with my mate." He murmurs, and she leaves them with a single bowl, instead giving Zhen and herself their own bowls.
If possible, Gamzee burrows farther into Karkat, rumbling in contentment.

"We'll reach the caverns in a few days. Quicker to move one caravan than three, you feel me? Sucks we ain't got all the righteous necessities, all the privacy needed of near-grown trolls, but shit makes for fast travel." His arms loop around Karkat's stomach.
Xia's dipping their bowls into the stew, decidedly not making eye-contacted with Gamzee or Karkat.

She understands very well that, sometimes, privacy is a luxury that can't be afforded.

 

*

The sun is at a point where some things offer shade but not enough, the caravan stopping a little ways off the road under sparse trees. Karkat moves back inside to give Gamzee room, a touch of pity at how uncomfortable he looks from being in the heat of day (his skin is even a little bit lavender-flushed, though that's better than being burned).

Everything's fine until he's getting armed around his middle and tugged down into the pile, a short squeak as he's draped and hung over like some sort of cuddle-doll. He knows Xia's looking despite not actually looking, face heating up that Gamzee decided now of all times to be handsy, tucking his head between Karkat's neck and shoulder. Karkat just might ascend that they're sharing a bowl, feeling like he's about to steam; and right after Xia accuses him of liking Gamzee back, how convenient.

 

Gamzee didn't even say 'mate-to-be' like he'd started to, though Karkat wonders if this is because of Xia and Zhen being there, pretty much being confirmed with what Gamzee says about privacy-- that they don't have it. Trying to wrap around him despite just being outside in the heat, this isn't loyal or possessive, this is just plain clingy and Karkat can't help but call Gamzee a pupa in his head.
"...If you're expecting me to be able to move at all while you're snaking me like this, I'm sorry to tell you but bodies don't work like that," Karkat huffs even though it's obvious he's about to steam the caravan from his face alone.

 

*

 

"Don't get all hyperbolic on my ass, I could wind my own self all over you so's you can't move an inch, mate-to-be." Despite what he says, Gamzee squeezes Karkat flush to him, then relaxes his grip, allowing the mutant the freedom to move as he pleases.

While Xia fills their bowl for them, getting an abundance of meat and vegetables, Gamzee tries to rub away the purple hue to his skin.
"I'm just tired 's all." He murmurs, glad to be in the shade and security of the caravan.

"Might settle down here for the day, if you don't mind. Some of those clowns got me alright. Nothing to get your worry on at, but my bones been rattled, brother." Xia hops off, returning to hand them all metal spoons; they aren't ornate, but they might trade well under the right circumstances.

 

While Xia helps Zhen spoon stew into her mouth, acting like the Indigoblood were her own, Gamzee settles against Karkat's side.

"You eat first. There's more if we be needing it. Those motherfuckers was like a miracle in disguise; got us a caravan. A nice one, with seats. Probably merchant-owned previously." Where their skin touches, Gamzee exudes the heat of the day.

"We'll grab everyone from the caverns and spend a few nights getting all our other caravans sorted out. Not like we big 'nough for four motherfucking 'vans, but one of 'em was getting pretty old. Always needed some shit what to be fixed. Could make this the 'van where we keep all our valuables. What you think, Karkat?" He nudges his mate, laying his head on his knees to watch the mutant.

He seems much less tense now that he's back in a semi-familiar environment with some modicum of control; the too-big undershirt makes him look like a wriggler playing dress-up.

"You miss the twins?"

 

*

 

Yelping but only a little, being held in tightly before Gamzee's unwinding from him, Karkat could light up a cavern with how bright his red is.

"More reason to stop, then. Eat something, and then I'll check if you need some salve and bandaging." It'd been good of Karkat to check Gamzee when they first met back up in front of his village, but Gamzee had wanted to go, and had ended up driving the caravan. Still, he should have thought to.

Xia hands him a bowl of stew, coming back with a spoon-- it smells nice , that his mouth even waters, reminded of stews from home; as he said before, Xia is fairly talented, and obviously caring despite being blunt, seeing how she tries to get Zhen to eat.

Karkat furrows his brow at Gamzee, being told to eat first; he's always done that, even when hauling him Gamzee's done that, making him think of what Xia said earlier. Well, Karkat does take a spoonful, just to make a surprised trill at the taste, giving a small happy hum and thinking to ask Xia later to tell him how to make it again.

"Mmh, someone with a pretty amount of caegers for sure. If it's a merchant's then I bet if we searched around some more we'd find some sort of compartments for hiding money or valuables, if it hasn't been looked for already." This is the kind of cart Vriska wants for her land excursions, since she'd already bought her ship herself, and Karkat can definitely see the perks of it (with Gamzee so close he can feel the day off of him instead of his usual chill, some jelly from that cooling herb would do some good).

At the mention of the caverns and the twins, Karkat both perks and then deflates, all in a smooth motion, "Of course I miss them...I owe everyone an apology....Karako, too. And to forgive him, since my Jade isn't dead..," he mumbles. "...Kanaya told me she hid the caravans off the road, to keep Ampora off our... my trail," not her exact words-- her exact words were much harsher and scolding --, but hey same thing, "They just might be beastless is all."

He makes half a smile at Gamzee, "We can, especially if I'm right about those hidden compartments, I'd be disappointed at whoever owned this first if they didn't ."

Sitting the way he is, Gamzee looks much younger than Karkat knows he is, definitely not a troll who could crash a wedding. More and more wriggler with how the undershirt hangs loosely on him-- reminds him that he has Navy and surprisingly Indigo clothes that'd fit better, stuff he'd asked Kanaya for from her shop, sitting in his bag. In a way, Karkat would call Gamzee cute right now, half barkpup eyes and half looking pitiable in a too big shirt.

"Here, open," Karkat turns and holds the spoon up, expectant for Gamzee to listen, "You're the one who had to fight, so you need to eat something." Gamzee said it first anyway; sucks that there's no privacy.

 

*

 

"Don't make apologies," Gamzee starts, gaze shifting from the pan-rotted Purpleblood to his mate, "you'll just confuse the twins on what you're even apologising for. And conditional apologies ain't worth it. If you wouldn't apologise if the Jade was dead, when we was doing what we felt necessary, then don't make your sorries open now --" He's cut off with a spoon of stew offered to him.
His lips turn up into a smile.

"Am I a wriggler?" He leans forward, opening his mouth to take in the spoonful of food.
A pleased sound leaves his throat as he chews and swallows; it reminds him of food they'd make before Karkat came into the picture. More substantial than just Lusus meat.

"We'll get more beasts. Could probably find a Navyblood and use my blood-status to wring his neck for a musclebeast or two." He thumbs off the corner of his lips, sucking his thumb clean.

"Chahut used to make something like this." He comments, opening his mouth for another spoonful, purring while Karkat feeds him -- like he's a fat, happy purrbeast.

"Used to let it all sit in the shade during the day. Fermenting , she called it. Cooked it at night on the fire. Marvus also a real good cook," another spoonful, "and the motherfucker used to hand-feed me when I was a stubborn pupa. Got so upset I wouldn't eat, sometimes." He chuckles, swiping the spoon from Karkat.
It's his turn, holding up a spoonful of broth and meat.

"Your turn, lil' miracle. Open up your nutrient gash for me." He smiles, knows exactly what he's doing; the bright red of Karkat's cheeks makes it all worth it.

It's just a shame they won't have the caravan to themselves, but there's no reason they couldn't pile.

"Wanna pile later?" He asks, and Xia does a wonderful job of minding her own damn business -- mainly because her business is trying to make sure Zhen chews her food and doesn't choke, and doesn't fall asleep while being fed. The Purpleblood keeps trying to lie down, evidently tired, while Xia continuously props her up, trying to get something into her.

"Your chest got all these worries in 'em where they shouldn't be. Was just a misunderstanding with the Jade. Ain't no need for no apologies on your end. And," he scrapes the bowl, bringing the last dregs to Karkat's lips, "was awful fun watching you fake-out that Blueblood for some caegers. Wouldn't mind seeing how else my mate handles himself in those markets." Their bowl empty, Gamzee grabs seconds; the pot is big enough they could all have seconds, and possibly thirds.

 

*

 

Karkat's been taught that he should always say sorry when he's done something wrong and with a genuine heart; Gamzee's right that a conditional apology won't mean anything, there isn't much that Karkat can do about that so he has to leave it, even if it feels wrong to him. If Gamzee feels some way when he mentions Kanaya, Karkat's grateful he doesn't outright show it.

He has to admit, Gamzee has a really nice smile, "Mhm, the way you look in that shirt, yeah," The undershirt looks like it was meant for a much broader, bulkier troll. Meanwhile, Karkat gets another pleasant smile, Gamzee letting him do as he likes and purring, telling little bits about his time with Chahut and Marvus, times before Karkat.

Of course, Gamzee's able to take the spoon from him and of course , he's got an even bigger smile for turning this back on Karkat. Face gone bright again as Karkat opens his mouth for a spoon of stew, still tasting just as good but he's got his hand on his cheek as if that's supposed to stop anyone from looking at his face.

Karkat flicks his eyes to Xia, who's thankfully busy with trying to get something in Zhen, before mulling the invitation in his head, "...y-yeah, if you won't mind later..," there are a few things that are weighing his chest down, and it'd probably be good to get it out rather than let it sit and brood. He's got one last bite of stew before the bowl is finished, as well as his embarrassment, Karkat perking up though at Gamzee noting his swindling of that Cerulean back at the market, "Told you I could," it probably helped that he learned that from Vriska, after the first time she swindled him.

"Speaking of, Vriska's marked a city for us, someone who'd buy those at a fair price." Karkat refers to the crown in his bag, " Unless you were hoping we find some other rich blueblood for me to have a go at."

 

*

 

"Who's this 'someone'?" Gamzee asks, brows raised.

"Most motherfuckers gonna have to spend their whole worth on even a single diamond from that crown -- don't gotta have much thinkflesh to know that -- so, who're they?" He pops another spoonful of stew past his lips.
It feels so good to get something subtantial in him; he could really curl up right on this communal pile and sleep away the day.

For once, the prospect even feels earned -- although, they're going to need to work out rotational shifts. Xia seems competent enough, but she also seems like the kind of troll who absolutely does not care about the hemospectrum. If a Navyblood approached them, she'd probably treat them with as much dry disrespect as she would a Burgundyblood.

He'd rather not let her get her own head lopped off her shoulders.

Zhen's pan is rotten to the point that she needs to be fed , and she's so small that Gamzee wonders if she could even hold herself in a fight against anything.

Karkat, at the very least, knows to call him for help -- but he'd also like to bury himself in Karkat's soft side and leech away all his warmth.

 

"This place, too -- it down South? That's where The Grand Highblood was up and chilling all last we heard, right? So, we go get every motherfucker from the caverns, and go back South. If your city's on the way, we make a stop there." Gamzee offers Karkat another spoonful with a quiet chirp.

"Should probably go straight for The Grand Highblood, but I miss my Brothers and Sisters, you feel me? Hope he'll understand."

Having gotten Zhen to swallow a few mouthfuls of stew, Xia finally gives up and lets the Purpleblood lie down. She curls up, tight and small, the layers of her dressfalling around her.

Xia tosses some extra fabric around her, taking a moment to speak up.

"He'll be fine when I understand everything. He usually listens to me -- and he hasn't met your mate, yet. He'd been wondering what kind of troll they'd be." Aside from a mutant breeder, that is; she's sure he'll be pleasantly surprised.

"Do you want...? I can move Zhen and I away from, uh," she makes a vague gesture to the two of them, "so you can do what you need to do. She'll sleep through anything. I have a few things to think about, too, before sleep." Whether or not that's a lie, Xia takes the square of fabric under Zhen, and pulls the sleeping troll across the caravan.

Gamzee almost feels bad for her, for the both of them, but he wants Karkat -- and edges up to the mutant's side, trillng for his attention.

"Ready for your first real pile, Karkat?" Gamzee says this like he's piled before, holding back giddy, nervous laughter.

 

*

 

Karkat frowns, "She didn't say. Said I know 'em, but we didn't get a chance to talk beyond that-- that's when this caravan hit us." They'd been chatting, until Vriska had groaned, becoming irritated and grumbled something about an itch inside her head, moments before their cart got tipped and turned.

"Vriska may be a loose cannon at times-- certainly talks bigger than she bites --, but I'd trust her with something like this." Vriska wouldn't lead him into trouble, at least not without tagging along, at risk of incurring the wrath of Kanaya.

Sucking in his cheek as he thinks, Karkat hums, "Think so. Probably need to check the map." It's an ideal plan, to go pick the rest of their party up first and then head out. Gamzee's seems at ease now, but Karkat bets he'd feel better with everyone else back. Though, there's a twinge of worry in his gut, at the thought of meeting everyone-- even more, meeting The Grand Highblood, even though Xia's made him sound more like...well, another Gamzee who was apt to fawning. That probably isn't true and only applies to Xia, though.

Hearing that he has in fact been heard of and is being wondered about is a little surprising, and Karkat's not sure yet if he should be worried or not.

 

Xia offers to move herself and Zhen, heat coming to Karkat's cheeks anew; she made it sound like they were going to do something more than pile.

Gamzee has some kind of look between an excited pupa and again, nearly barkpup eyes, moved close to his side and nudging into him with a trill. "Hm, that sounds like you don't think I've piled before," well, technically he has, but as far as what counts? Karkat's lacking in that department.

 

*

 

Gamzee's laughter comes out as a sigh, his expression dulling.

"I'll make the pile proper." He gets to his feet and takes everything Xia and Zhen weren't using, moving it all to the opposite end of the caravan.
Still not much for privacy, but they're at least got some space.
He leaves out the ripped plushies. They're not too comfortable and probably belonged to the caravan's previous owner.

When they have enough trolls again to reasonably make a fire, they can burn those ugly abominations.
"Pile's ready." He says, sitting down near it but not quiet getting atop the mound of fabric.

"It proper, or...? Not real chill of you to be joking up with your old clade now you got me, you feel me? Wouldn't like to see Chahut and Marvus get their fret on with me, would you?" He hopes the answer is 'no' and Karkat will just let this be, but he's come to expect different from the mutant.

 

*

 

He really should filter his words a little more, seeing how Gamzee's face falls like that. Stars , he just can't say or do anything right, can he?

His mate-- and now Karkat's doing it again too. Should he just drop the specifics? Disregard them completely? He doesn't know. --rises to get whatever isn't in use for a pile-- except for those gross plushies, Karkat doesn't wanna know what's been done to them or why they're ripped and why there are splotches of purple in the stuffing , making him grimace at the thought of what happened to them --, setting up as far from Xia and Zhen as they can be.

"Yeah, it's proper," Karkat assures him, since really it's as proper as they can do for right now. Though, Gamzee may have posited that Karkat had some stuff to talk through, but it seems like he does as well, sitting like that next to the pile-- next to it, not on .

 

He asks a loaded question, it feels like, and Karkat's trying to figure how to give, or not give, a loaded answer. At least an answer that will reach and not be misunderstood. "...Is it that easy? To cut off others and not regard them because of someone else?" Karkat at least hushes his voice as he sits against the pile, in case of open ears.

Gamzee says it's not chill of him to joke around, talk fondly or worry about his old clade, be close to them, then asking if Karkat would like it if the other's worried over him like that, like he expected him to want to cut him off like that from the others (how quickly he's forgotten that he did worry over everyone on their way to the caverns, that he struck Karkat if he so much as breathed in a way that irritated him). "If I knew that they were aiming for quadrants, then I might have a problem. If that isn't the case, then I'm not gonna make you cut them off like that. You should know better than anyone that they care about you and how much."

 

*

 

"I ain't you." He stresses each word just enough to make his irritation known.

"I wasn't raised that your pan-coddled mindset. Barzum could've motherfucking died, and while you were busy making tears over the bitch what'd let a pupa burn 'cause she so damn ocular deficient , I had shit to do. Barzum would have motherfucking died if we didn't get our asses to the goddamn caverns. Maybe, Barzum is dead!" His voice rises and rises until he hits Karkat with that, throwing his hands up.

"You saw her! You saw all of us! Any one of us could've motherfucking died, and we just gotta keep going. No time for that wriggler-soft bullshit. That's what gets you killed."

"You think Barzum gonna come back like that bitch? You think I'm ever gonna forgive her? You think she even sorry ? Motherfucker, don't take me as pan-deficient. Make up all the excuses you feel but, at the end of the motherfucking day, she threatened us . She attacked us . That is why everyone got burned to motherfucking shit, and Barzum might be dead or plain old, blind cullbait." He sneers, bristling.

"Even if she was sorry, even if I don't know that your whole-ass village despises me and my kind -- 'cause I got your Elder's digits, and they ain't pretty -- that don't mean they're forgiven. I'd sooner cut their heads off and rip out all their insides than spend a night with 'em." He tenses, then forces himself to relax, sighing.

"Not like I expect you to get any of that, 'side from one of the cute pupae being motherfucking dead." His expression is forced into neutrality, and he nudges himself against the pile.

"So? The fuck's got your pusher weighed down? Not gonna pretend I'll understand, but you can use my head as a storage place. Ain't like it'll really matter. Half the shit what comes out your nutrient gash makes my pusher feel some type of agony -- don't even get me started on what others got the nerves to up and say to my face." He's tense, merely mimicking lax body language, even as he waves a hand as if dispelling bad thoughts.

 

*

 

It pierces .

It pierces and Gamzee knows it does and it maybe hurts worse because of that.

Gamzee gets louder and louder and it just makes Karkat want to scream back; he's tired, they already went through this before Gamzee went off to take a royal head. Everything inside him wants to do that too, even in his throat, he can feel a lump starting, pushing it's way up for the burst of sound from him that will follow-- it's either yell or cry , one or the other has to come out.

But, it doesn't. Even though words run through him like spears through flesh-- and how can he even imagine such a thing when neither blade, pike or bullet has ever had the chance to have been through his body, what an idiot --, Karkat just lets it.

They're going back to that circle and he's really starting to hate it.

 

Karkat can only hope that they got Barzum to the caverns in time, only hope further that she isn't blinded; that she isn't dead. Otherwise, he will take responsibility the only way he can think of, because it is his fault, at the root of it.

Even when Gamzee spills how he'd rather cull anything and anyone to do with his village and those from it, Karkat doesn't have a reaction, as if he'd finally gone numb for it, for the amount of times Gamzee's said so with how strongly he feels about doing such a thing (if he ever does .....Karkat doesn't know what he'll do then).

Oh, but he still wants to pile , have Karkat spill his heart just to say ' fuck that ' to anything he has to tell.

Will they stop coming back to this? Is there no way to meet in the middle?

He's so tired of it.

Karkat sighs slowly, "If it brings you agony, then don't ask me to tell you, you'll just be upset. You could have gotten any other typical breeder for a mate, any other who'd listen to you the way you want. Instead, I'm here. I could have made any other choice. Instead, I heard you and I still chose you, over what was familiar and safe to me." Even when Karkat has every good reason not to.

Not so much his heart, but his whole body feels heavy, as if the blood isn't moving and has decided to just settle. "...You still have something to say. Please just say it."

 

*

 

Gamzee's tongue runs over his fangs, behind his lips, as he stares at the caravan ceiling.
"If it was so easy for Indigobloods to set down in villages, why wouldn't we?" He asks, only waiting a beat before continuing.

"It ain't easy. We ain't wanted. We been foretold as bloodthirsty and beastly -- but, y'know, that Elder of yours's the real beastly, blind coward." His gaze shifts onto Karkat, and he presses the troll down into the pile.

"As we was walking back, again, he threatened me . I had half a mind to take off his head right there and bring it to The Grand Highblood, 'cause I know who he is." Gamzee slips a leg over Karkat, holding the troll down with his weight.
The neck of his oversized shift slips off a lavender shoulder, the curls of his hair tickling Karkat's face.

"The Grand Highblood never actually tore into no one on that day. Y'know who did? Your Elder, Executioner Darkleer . Who suffers for him? Us ." Slowly, Gamzee eases himself atop Karkat, cheek pressing into the soft plush beside the mutant's head.
"Read the tome in my bag." His words are half-muffled, but he's tugging at Karkat's arms.

"That text got itself multitudes of lies and blasphemy, but it shows who made themselves a thinker, and who made themselves a follower." Gamzee tries to get Karkat's arms around him, burying into either the pile or the troll.

"For now, just hold me. Plenty of time to acquaint yourself with ancient texts. Ain't been doctored none. No point. Hardly any motherfucker really read it. Just me, Kurloz, and our ancestor -- and you, if you wanna gain some insight on my rage." He settles atop Karkat, ear flicking.

"'Less you don't wanna. Your choice, mate-to-be."

 

*

 

Any motivation to move is nil, Karkat watching with half-lidded gaze as Gamze moves over him, almost trapping him more and more into the pile. Listening the more he draws that line between everyone else and Indigo, even when his Elder is accused again of being some other troll that had done wrong against them forget asking about any chance of him visiting the sister village he guesses.

Gamzee's curled over him by the time he says to read that tome, pulling insistently for Karkat's heavy arms up to go around him, until he relents on his own, limbs feeling like lead as he grabs into Gamzee's shirt. Quiet after a while, until he grips more firmly, red gaze gaining a touch of sad and pity, ".....I'd want you."

There he goes again, even though there are pages upon pages of things that could convince-- prove to, even --Karkat that he shouldn't have anything to do with Gamzee. Reasons upon reasons why he shouldn't stay.

But there he goes again.

 

"Bloody, yeah. But certainly not beastly. I have met royalty more beastly than you." Karkat's voice is low and soft, factual while avoiding anything else to be said about his Elder; on that, he will come to his own conclusions, draw up his own assumptions and leave it at that.

 

*

 

In his stockings, Gamzee's toes curl; Karkat's claws would need some frantic grip behind them to dig into his skin. Instead, he settles into the embrace.

For a while -- maybe a minute, maybe two -- Gamzee just stares, feeling Karkat breathe beneath him. It's -- not unpleasant. More intimate than Chahut patting him down, more intense than Marvus settling him onto his lap.

"Wouldn't you rather have that Jade for this?" He asks, quiet, hesitant of the answer -- certain he already knows it.

"That Blueblood? More familiar trolls for your quadrants?" A familiar home, one which isn't threatened by a zealous Violetblood Prince -- but, that was never in the cards for Karkat.

 

Even if Gamzee had never shown his face, if he'd remained ignorant of the mutant, he'd still have been abducted. Escorted away from everything he knows to live inside the palace.

 

He cups Karkat's cheek, urges him to turn his head so they're face-to-face.

"Being better than a seadweller ain't a huge feat, Karkat. I met plenty of 'em. Even when they ain't at the top of the grub scale, they still got massive attitude." His touch slips from cheek to chest, where he cups a bud, feels the mutant's heart beat fast under his clothes.

"This how fast your pusher normally goes?" He gets just a bit closer -- close enough to shut his eyes, not asleep but resting.

"Real fast compared to mine."

 

*

 

His heart had been picking up and up while Gamzee was moving over him, and it's only noticed now that Gamzee's brought attention to it that Karkat hears it pounding away in his ears, "No, it's not. That's...," Karkat's breath catches just for the slightest moment, cool hand pushing palm to his chest, just his shirt keeping their skin from touching, "..that's from you..being so close.."

For this, how their eyes are wholly on each other and Karkat can hear his heart in his ears now, can hear Gamzee's slow intake and his own, how intimate it is to be like this, would Karkat prefer Kanaya or Vriska?

Hell no.

 

"Gamzee," Karkat starts calmly, "Would you want your Lusus, or even your ancestor, close to you like this? In your quadrants?" His mouth squiggles at the thought, trying not to outright laugh. "That's certainly a mood-ruiner, isn't it." A hand comes up to cover his mouth, hide his squiggling in case Gamzee isn't as amused.

"I'm not even her preferences, just the pupa she raised when my Lusus couldn't stand to be dry anymore-- have I told you my Lusus is a Tyranny Crab?" Karkat swallows down a giggle and has to hope that it stays down, "She's spent all of her caring on me that she has a mean streak for anyone and anything else, which is sad because Vriska's been persistent on getting in her quadrants," unless they're already doing...that. Karkat knows they have something. "So that's a hard no on Vriska, too. I mean, I care about her, but not at all like that."

 

Karkat finally glances back up at Gamzee, some parts sheepish and another a bit of bold. "..I care about them, but they don't make my pusher like this..," his hand moves from his mouth to push on top of Gamzee's, aware that the beating pace may have sped up a little more.

 

*

 

"Never got to be close with my Lusus like this." Gamzee interjects.

"Fun play on nature; us Purples got ourselves aquatic Lusii. We can't follow 'em into the ocean, and they ain't got no idea why their charge won't do it." As a pupa, Gamzee had no idea, either; his world was just sand and shoreline.

Being picked up by Chahut, they'd stayed away from the coasts -- it's an easy place to find Indigoblood pupae, but, given that they're mostly left to themselves, a good chunk are nothing more than corpses on the sand.

"Had myself a big Seagoat what only came to shore to die." He knows Marvus had a Lusus longer than most Indigobloods, but no more attentive; Karako's the lucky one of the bunch, being protected and reared by a Jadeblood.

A cloistered Jadeblood. The relative safety of the caverns was difficult for him to give up, Gamzee remembers.

 

The highblood's hand slips down between them, trailing over Karkat's contours.

"I want you to put me first." He opens his eyes, cool hand slinking under Karkat's top.

"You belong with us, now. All of us." His touch grazes Karkat's soft stomach, returning to cup his chest.

"We put you first, so you gotta put us all first, too. Else there'll be strife -- and I can cull 'em all at your request, but a two-troll caravan ain't as joyous. Difficult to live like that. Difficult to pray like that." He gives the bud a gentle squeeze, his cheeks dusted a light lavender.

"You like 'em, don't you?"

 

*

 

Frowning, Karkat wants to raise his hands up to Gamzee's face, welling pity that the only time Gamzee's known with his own Lusus is after it's death. Karkat's lucky, not only that his aquatic Lusus at least tried to stay on land for him, fitting Karkat into the chink of space in it's armor, on it's back if it needed to take him through somewhere particularly dangerous or watery (didn't he used to have a plush doll that resembled his Lusus too? Does Kanaya still have it? Probably.), but that he also had Kanaya and practically an entire community to look out for him, even if it's made him soft. Gamzee didn't really have anyone, if he didn't want to count Chahut or Marvus or Kurloz, but even to Karkat that's iffy.

Though all attempts to give Gamzee that pity is very much stunted, cool hand slipping out from under his to slide down his body.

That alone has his attention, despite not looking away from purple gaze, blinking when he's slipped under Karkat's shirt, making his breath catch to feel Gamzee smooth along the soft pudge of his stomach. His hand returns to his chest, if only to squeeze the palmful of flesh as he gives Karkat the most concrete answer he could get. Underneath chilled palm the bud stiffens, and Karkat could forget that they weren't by themselves at all, Gamzee carefully squeezing and in turn having Karkat swallow whatever words may have been in his throat.

 

Karkat finds Gamzee's hand from over his shirt, hold too soft to really stop him from doing anything, "Alright. I can do that. I can put you, us, first," Karkat says 'us' like their entire troupe and caravan is back together already, "I can do that. So, can you hear me, if I tell you there's another solution? If I know there's another way, will you at least hear me out, let me resolve things my way. So that no one is left hurting, especially us and ours?"

He's flushed just a little, the attention to his chest does do something, and Karkat can't outright scowl but he can pout, squeezes the offending hand, "Cheating already, trying to muddle my head further when you already make my heart feel like this..," he thinks for a beat before talking again, "...of course I like them. I wouldn't make you do that. So if I have a resolution that saves everyone from hurting again, will you at least let me try?"

 

*

 

Gamzee blinks, taking a moment to choose his words carefully.

"If it benefits us and ours, and doesn't put you in danger." He gives the bud in his hand another squeeze, running his thumb along the smooth flesh.

"I ain't gonna let you get burnt up by the Sun, mauled by some beast, or cornered in the markets. Not if culling the fuckers'd be safer for you ." Another squeeze, and he relaxes, lifting himself enough to press his forehead to Karkat's own.

"I ain't no cheat. Just holding you." His grip loosens, and he wraps his arm around Karkat, beneath his top, pressing their bodies firmly together.

"Think a motherfucker can sleep like this?" He purrs, chastely pressing their lips together.

If Chahut and Marvus can place their cold lips to the crown of his head, and he can do the same to Karako and the twins, then kissing must be alright.

He leaves more soft kisses on Karkat's plump cheeks, his forehead; the pile shifts under them as he moves, but Gamzee's careful. Slow and meticulous.

"You're reeking better than usual, Karkat." The bulb of his nose presses against the mutant's hot skin wherever he kisses, and he's bathed in Karkat's scent.

"What's that all 'bout?"

 

*

 

Karkat could beam if not for his chest still being played with, but he does manage a smile anyway through the barely-there haze, very happy with their outcome.

Even if Gamzee can't seem to do without giving his chest another fondling squeeze, but that aside it's practically tender when their foreheads are together (on another level, Karkat is all the more thrilled, since it seems they've met at a common middleground finally).

"Holding is one thing. Groping is another," though, Karkat's not sure Gamzee really gets how sensitive his chest is-- non-breeder trolls of course don't have chest buds and nipples, it has no place or need on a normal troll after all.

Once he's let alone with his chest, still under his shirt Gamzee's arm winds under him, keeping them flush together with not even a speck of space between, and after one sweetly chaste kiss, a gentle press of lips on his, Karkat has to talk between the rest that follow, "If you can even stop at all to sleep."

The pile feels like it's getting less and less pile and more Karkat being buried into it, flushing as Gamzee comments on his scent, now being able to smell his own sugar. Sighing as he takes Gamzee's hand that isn't under him and puts it on the neglected side of his chest, "Because these," Karkat empahsizes by making Gamzee's hand squeeze on his non-existent tit, "Are kind of sensitive, and not in a pale way either."

 

*

 

A deep rumble exits Gamzee's chest as Karkat takes his hand, placing it over his other breast.

"I had a feel on that. 'S why I'm trying to be all gentle-like with 'em." This one he can feel stiffen in his grip, and he traces the puckered nipple through Karkat's shirt.

"They're to feed, ain't they? Y'know, when you have yourself a grub?" He pushes in the nipple, nosing at Karkat's neck.
Gamzee knows the very basics of breeder biology, but not much more -- and any practical application is limited solely to Karkat.

He'd known that some breeders lack bulges, but was still surprised to find Karkat with only a nook. The same goes for his chest; it's more than just protective fat, like Chahut or any other female troll.

Not that he's ever willingly gotten this close to Chahut's chest -- the idea makes him want to bury his face in the pile. To him, it got in the way; for her, it served as protection for her vital organs.

Although, Chahut doesn't really need protection from anything.

 

"Miracles, ain't it? You can up and sustain a whole troll inside you." Greedily, Gamzee begins to work up Karkat's top, sitting up, wanting to see more of his mate.

"Not like we can't mix quadrants, you feel me? Some pale, some red; you're gonna have to educate me, anyway, on all your biologies. I ain't got all that kinda finesse down, Karkat." He exposes the mutant, greedy gaze taking its time in drinking in the sight beneath him.
Gamzee shifts his hips just slightly, the familiar feeling of his nook throbbing.

"... How you feel on carrying?" He poses the question quietly, softly, eyes flickering up to Karkat's delicate features.

 

*

 

Having a chance to glance away Karkat takes it, red blooming on his cheeks and beginning to spread and creep down his neck. "Y-Yeah, for that..," gosh, the thought of that , of having a grub and feeding them like that, never mind just having a grub .

Kanaya made sure that Karkat learned about the biologies of his body, keeping him prepared for the possibility and making sure Karkat wasn't just clueless about how things worked. Once his body registered that he was carrying it'd start up the process of storing up sugars and stuff in his chest; he doesn't know how much, or even how big his might end up.

"A daunting miracle, you mean, holding an entire, new being," daunting as it is, Karkat's distracted by Gamzee pushing his shirt the rest of the way up, chest now fully exposed as well as Karkat's blush crawling down toward his middle, both buds hardened and the area around them looking just a bit puffy.

Mixing their quadrants doesn't even sound bad, and Karkat had an inkling as much anyway, of what mateship was. And yet, the blushing doesn't stop, seeing fit to steam up the caravan with how much heat his face alone is radiating.

 

As for Gamzee's question, Karkat doesn't even know yet and he says as much, "...I dunno yet. If it does happen then..," if it happens then it happens, and Karkat's going to have to roll with that when it does.

 

*

 

"Do you want it to happen?" He counters, wondering if Karkat's ever been asked the question -- not by his mate-to-be, the Violetblood Princeling.

Gamzee can't imagine him asking Karkat anything more than to open his mouth, spread his legs, stop complaining . Others might've asked him, though, in his village.

 

Although, it's a bit backwards; Gamzee doesn't ask the cloistered Jades if they want to spend all their time looking after wriggling grubs. They simply do , biological imperatives aside.
The tip of a claw circles Karkat's nipples in turn, his movements lazy.

"You like the twins, and they ain't even your own. Could have a lil' Purpleblood with your smell on it -- or a mutant. Not like we'd toss out a mutant grub. Too miraculous." Gamzee can only vaguely imagine holding a grub, having it cling to him with its small legs; watching it pupate into a loose-limbed troll.

They'd keep any mutants, that much he's certain.

After all, Gamzee doesn't need more than one Purpleblood -- and Kurloz could get his own mate, produce an heir. It'd be entirely possible for him to contribute to The Mother Grub, as well, and have himself an heir in that manner.

 

The idea of their bloodline becoming closer to Violet, however, sits less nicely in Gamzee's mind.

 

"Lucky for you," he dips his head, experimentally flicking his tongue over Karkat's chest, "we got ourselves another breeder with us. Maybe she can spill some truths out for you." His long, cool tongue makes another pass, before he kisses the bud.

He swears Karkat even tastes sweet.

 

*

 

Did he want it to happen?

"I..well, I haven't... not thought about it....," in truth, in the same way Karkat used to fantasize his potential wedding(s), he used to think about having grubs-- not so much the actual process of making them but in the general sense where he used to throw his first love in the picture as well. Of course, after some eye-openers happening to him, the prospect and magic, if there were any at all, of it kind of went away.

"One of the other breeders in my village, a Bronze, wasn't breeding. But as far back as I can remember she never had any grubs, which there's nothing wrong with, y'know? But she had quadrants, just never had any grubs by 'em. And of course there was big gossip about it and why she chose not to, like some of the older gossipmongers thought she was takin' it --"

Karkat abruptly cuts himself off, chirping both at himself and Gamzee's toying, hand slapped to his mouth. If he wasn't red before, he certainly is now, not daring to finish (everyone knows taking a bulge up the ass is sort of frowned upon, but that was the rumor going around at the time; of course, all that talk has died down by now).

"A-A-Anyway!" Gamzee certainly is no help, still messing around and playing with budded nipples, teasing with his claws.

Back to other matters without such thoughts, Karkat thinks (purposefully) about how Gamzee puts things; Karkat does like the twins, loves them, even. Having one of his own though? What if grubs from him only came out as mutants?

Xia is here, Gamzee's right about that, but as far as Karkat knows she's just as new, just lost her grub.

 

"Do...do you want grubs from me?" It's hard to talk, or even focus, when Gamzee has his mouth on sensitive flesh, chilled lips and tongue provoking heated skin, sending thin lines of signals to his head that make him shiver, grow out more of that hazy feeling.

 

*

 

"Of course he does." From across the caravan, Xia speaks up -- then immediately gasps, turning away to cover her mouth with both hands.

 

Gamzee stiffens only for a moment, nosing the untouched skin between Karkat's buds.

"How long a Sister been listening?" He doesn't sound mad , but his question is obviously more than that.
Xia takes a peek over her shoulder.

"Th-the heathen. The Bronzeblood." The Limeblood shifts, pusher going too fast in her chest.

"Any-anyway, you mentioned I could help Karkat, and I can. I've already carried. I'm carrying again. I know more than theory -- and, at the end of the night, biological diagrams and all that nonsense don't help." For once, her dry tone is lifted, quivering as if she were the one with a cool mouth on her chest.

Gamzee looks so much like a young version of her mate, their horns and hair and build the same. It's almost uncanny -- but what else was she expecting?
Still, it doesn't help.

 

"What does help?" Gamzee rumbles, shifting to plant a full kiss on Karkat's lips.
Whatever modesty he has around his own group of Indigobloods doesn't seem to extend to Xia or Zhen.

"Having trolls who know what they're doing." Xia responds, hands in her lap.

"You know, letting me nest, keeping away from me if I didn't want to be touched. Helping me when the grub quickened. Zhen could feel the grub -- the grub needs to come out head-first, and Zhen knows how to feel to see if the grub is in position. She pressed on my stomach until the grub was the right way round. When her head comes back, she should show that to one of your Brothers and Sisters. It's valuable information." She fidgets, and Gamzee breaks their kiss.

"Cool shit. Now, plug your aural canals and lie down... please." He licks his lips, waiting and watching as Xia stuffed her head under some fabric, and curls up on her side, facing away from the two of them.
When he turns back to Karkat, his fingers skim the mutant's jaw.

"You wanna try making us a grub right now, Karkat?"

 

*

 

Karkat absolutely forgot that Xia and Zhen were in the caravan.

 

Freezing right the fuck up and snapping out of that haze-- at least somewhat snapping out of it, enough to have a modicum of sense and shame.

Gamzee is absolutely no help, face nosing between barely-mounds like there's nothing wrong with doing things like this in front of Xia (was it because she and Zhen weren't really part of their caravan?

Because Karkat knows Gamzee would be purple at the ears if Chahut or anyone else from their own saw him; purple and hissing like a defensive overgrown pupa would be about their business being found out).

 

It suspiciously sounds like she may have heard more than just Karkat's bit about the unbred breeder from his village, but he doesn't have the face nor the motivation to confirm or deny any of that, and Xia already sounds embarrassed enough to have blurted out and basically admit that she'd been listening, intentionally or not. But being that she does have firsthand knowledge and know-how, a lot more than Karkat has, it'd be smart of him to pay attention and listen.

Which would be nice if he could. Which would be cool if Gamzee wouldn't distract him with his mouth (and would be even better if Karkat wasn't so easily distracted). He only half hears what she's saying, and only half of that gets made into some kind of sense, but not much. Cool lips that aren't that cold anymore from how much they've been at his skin. Isn't even trying to get Karkat's mouth open, just the same dizzying kind of kiss as from the night Gamzee offered to put his mouth on hot nook and it works just as much.

He's reasonably dazed when Gamzee parts from him, still when fingers gently go along his skin and there's zero reason for Gamzee to sound or look as good as he does when he asks him.

"Yyou really wanna make a grub with me?" He's even begun to slur through his words, heat beginning to coil more and more in his gut. "Don' even wanna wait 'til we're more private?" Karkat knows from last time they did something lewd, he's going to be loud, and his hands might not be enough to stop up the noise this time.

 

*

 

"This's as private as we gonna get for a while, Karkat." He maps out his mate's features, drawing a thumb over plump, pouting lips.

"Put those two outta your thinkpan, they ain't got a leg to stand on. The Lime'll keep her aural canals shut if she knows what's best for her." He sits up, leans back and off his mate.

Karkat's sunk into the pile, smothered by his weight -- he likes the sight of it, his dazed mate covered in cozy fabrics and plush pillows.

 

The highblood, wary of losing more garments, makes quick work of his shirt, and tosses his hose along with it.

Naked, he's a tapestry of injuries; a light lavender pervades the grey of his skin, denoting his time outside. Alongside that, old wounds range from partially-healed to old and faded; the newest addition being a big, ugly bruise spreading along his side and back.

If he aches, Gamzee doesn't show it.

 

Like Karkat might try to flee if he left him alone for too long, Gamzee's back -- now sat beside his mate.

"I want you to have my grubs. I want you to want it." The cleft between his legs is a deep purple, almost dripping; no bulge, but it won't take much for the organ to slither out.
In the meantime, Gamzee's greedily eyeing Karkat, pusher throbbing in his chest.

"Can a brother undress for his mate? I wanna see you in all your righteous beauty, Karkat."

 

*

 

Karkat isn't one for exhibitionism; Karkat also finds that he's caring less and less about that, at least right now.

The barebones of Gamzee's words are essentially ' don't think about them, think about me ', and that's absolutely doable with Xia gone quiet again. Gamzee is stripped to his skin, and pity almost overwhelms arousal at the sight of him; Karkat patched him up before-- keyword patched , and a shitty patch up at that too --but that definitely wouldn't have held up when Gamzee was fighting those adults.

Not enough pity to put out the heat spreading through his lower half. Not nearly enough with the way Gamzee's eyes drag over his prone, half-dressed form in the pile. Karkat might melt under such a look, nevermind that he does, heart giving a strange flutter as Gamzee affirms that he wants Karkat with his grubs.

Only if Karkat wants.

 

His shirt is shrugged the rest of the way off, put aside as Karkat languidly hooks thumbs into the waist of his leggings, pulling the fabric down over his hips. He hasn't been fully naked in front of Gamzee yet, the time prior Karkat had kept the shift on, but if it isn't that much more intense .

 

*

 

He trills, excitement and apprehension mixing into the sound, as Karkat undresses -- fully undresses.
Not too long ago, the mutant wouldn't have been caught dead allowing Gamzee to be in his vicinity while changing. Now, Karkat looks like a prize, laid atop a comfortable pile.

"Ain't you precious?" Gamzee nudges Karkat's knees apart, and settles between the troll's thighs. Without those leggings in the way, Karkat reeks , and Gamzee's flooded with his scent.

 

It's something he'd kill for, die to protect; he'd do it without thought.

 

Another trill, and his hand cups his mate's sex.

"Y'know how to get a bulge out?" There's a breathless note to Gamzee's voice, his eyes bright, attention all on Karkat.

"This part here, what makes you feel so good, 's where you're supposed to have a bulge." His thumb strokes along the beginning of Karkat's slit, applying just enough pressure to be felt.

"Put your hand there on me and stroke me like this," he repeats the ministration, "and my bulge should come out for you. Wanna try?" The slit between his legs is nowhere near as plump or inviting as Karkat's own, his sex better indicated by his bulge; that doesn't stop his nook from throbbing, a single pale-purple bead of lubricant making its way down his inner thigh.

 

*

 

He's flushed all over, blooming deeper with Gamzee right there, bare and naked for purple gaze, every brush of skin and touch feeling like sparks over his flesh. Karkat almost can't believe that he is stark naked as the day he pupated from grub to pupa, or that he's at a point he's only dreamed about whenever he'd finished a book that had a scene like this.

This, however, is no book, it's actually happening and Gamzee really calls the sight of him precious, really looks at him like Karkat is everything .

Breath hitching as cool fingers press over his slit, dazedly shaking his head-- even though his trashy smut went into great detail to explain such a thing, it's not like Karkat's ever had the chance to try it out and see if it works. It doesn't make him feel it any less, as Gamzee pushes and slips against that place where a bulge should be on himself, toward the top of his slit.

Asks if he wants to try-- and does Karkat want to, not just for his bulge but also curious if it does the same thing to Gamzee as his fingers do to him, make him feel like his nerves are lit up and lightheaded.

Gamzee's nook is nothing like the fat little mound of flesh between Karkat's thighs, which of course Karkat thinks he gets, since only having a nook all the appeal must have went into making it look, well, appealing . For the highblood, Karkat can take a wild guess at where all of that went for him. Still, he looks nice in a way that's Gamzee -- like where in his books the writer puts the words 'handsome nook' together, Karkat thinks this is what that would look like.

Karkat props himself better against the pile so he's not straining, half-lidded gaze fixated on Gamzee's slit, carefully, gently reaching out. Between his mate's thighs is surprisingly warm-- still cold, but more lukewarm than the rest of him. He's also surprisingly soft, the lips of Gamzee's slit have some give, even if not a lot wonders if Gamzee's had anything near or in there; wonders if and when Karkat somehow worked up the globes to ask to eat him out if Gamzee'd let him. Karkat does his best to mimic the motion, press around the top-- and isn't that different, the area almost hard, compact, not really giving as Karkat strokes the skin. Glancing between nook and Gamzee's face as he presses, watching out in case he's done something wrong. Fingers catching the bead of slime beginning to drip and letting it ease Karkat's handiwork.

 

*

 

For a moment, when Karkat first touches him, Gamzee has to still himself.
His instincts tell him to snap his legs shut, swat the hand away -- but that feeling eases with a breath, Karkat's hot skin warming him through.

"Don't gotta touch my whole -- " The highblood shivers, lowering his hips into Karkat's touch. Rocking with the other's fingers while pressure builds and builds until he shudders.

At first, nothing more than the barbed, tapered tip works its way out; then, greedily, the rest of the organ unfurls.

Gamzee's brows knit as if the sensation is painful, a deep sigh leaving him once his bulge has unsheathed.

"There we go." He murmurs, dazed; the purple organ curls around Karkat's hand, encircling his wrist. All the lubrication that would otherwise be coming from his nook now drips from his bulge, leaving his mate's skin covered in a sheen of light purple.

"There we fucking go -- should I make a brother come, first?" His own fingers slip between Karkat's lips, caressing his mate's inner walls.

"Lather his bright material all on my bulge?" Gamzee half-teases, parting Karkat with an index and middle finger.
The bright, bright red just under the skin of his mate has Gamzee's bulge tensing, a long drip of material exiting the tip.

His tongue swipes over his lips, his thumb caressing Karkat's entrance.

"Might have to -- to open your legs more for me, Karkat." He's burning up, from the tips of his ears to the soles of his feet; and part of him wants to hurt Karkat.

If another troll ever fucks him, they'll know they're not the first.

"Here," his hands run the length of Karkat's inner thighs, "pull your legs up and away from your chest. Open yourself all up for me." Gamzee licks a smear of red that had gotten onto his thumb, reminded of their first day together.

"You trust me, right? I'll mate you, and be the mate you deserve."

 

*

 

Something like a thrill shoots through Karkat, Gamzee moving with his hand (and perhaps some part of amazement at himself, that he could get him to), bucking forward in time with the stroke and press of fingers.

It's a sight when purple splits the top of the slit, when Karkat gets to see Gamzee's face shift, hear his breath shudder and feel his body do the same, more and more of the length curling out, from barbed tip to thickening ridge and base.

Goes right to wrap around Karkat's wrist, as if in greeting, chilled purple slick dripped and smeared on his skin. It's nice, to hear Gamzee dazed and dizzy like him, even if it doesn't last as long, the other already recovering enough to talk, enough to get Karkat to shudder, body jolting at cool digits dipping into his heat, lips parted to say something that ends up as a meek whine.

He's already flushed over and back, Karkat may as well glow his color when Gamzee says he'd have to open himself up some more, spread his thighs just a bit more. Smooths his hands up the inner sides and coaxes Karkat to lift his legs, grabbing behind his knees, purple slick coating the exposed back of his thigh while Karkat steams from how the position feels, nevermind looks ( this in particular has been read over far too much for Karkat to not know what kind of pose he's in).

Couldn't be any more open, nook practically on display the way he is. But Gamzee's sweetness comes through a little, asking if Karkat trusted him. "...I trust you....," his words come out breathy, soft, "Try-- try at least a little bit..to be careful with me, yeah? I'm giving you my first, you know..."

 

*

 

"I know." He traces Karkat's backside with his hands, leaving his mate entirely exposed for the moment.

"I'll be nice, and just gentle 'nough not to break you. Promise. What kind of a mate would I be if I broke you our first time?" Pushing himself onto his knees, Gamzee looms over Karkat.
Bringing their hips together, his bulge squirms between them, writhing into Karkat's folds; Gamzee gasps and shudders, trying to bite back the sounds.

It doesn't take long for the slender tip of his bulge to find Karkat's centre, where he's hottest and sweetest, and sink deeply into the other troll -- as deep as is possible.
Karkat is tight around him, and he'd collapse atop the smaller troll if his arms weren't locked into place.

"Wanna have many times with you." He mutters, bulge undulating, slowly working deeper and deeper into Karkat.

"Wanna fuck you so you'll never say 'nother motherfucker's name, never even think it; whenever your body wants, it wants me ." Allowing his bulge to continue worming into Karkat, Gamzee lowers himself -- half-collapses, really -- onto his elbows, freeing a hand to brush back Karkat's hair.

"How many times you think that'll take? A dozen? Twenty? More ? How greedy's my mate?" He mouths the thin skin of Karkat's jaw, urging him to let Gamzee at his neck; at every vulnerable point.

"I want you carrying by the time we get to the caverns." He purrs, his ridges easing past Karkat's plump lips.

 

*

 

That should not make Karkat want to find out exactly how much he can withstand before he does break.

They're flush together, not even air or space separating their hips, cold bulge twisting across heated flesh, Karkat's breath catching as it squirms over his nook. Curling up until the tip figures out where heat is emanating from and goes straight for it, slipping through heated folds and tight nookwall, gradually getting thicker as Karkat can feel the stretch of his hole trying to accommodate, making him gasp a moan, brow knitting up and lips parted like he's in a slow build of shock.

"..a aggh ....f fffhuck ...," Karkat barely has any breath to say much, other than noise and expletives, a trill feeble in his throat. He shouldn't be surprised that there's still more bulge to cram inside him, body tensed up and quivering. It doesn't help that Gamzee keeps talking, but it's not unwelcome either, words sending things down his spine, going straight from his brain to his core.

That possessive streak shows bluntly, Gamzee spilling a lot of things from his mouth that Karkat can't help but want as bulge digs and writhes to get as far in as possible, already pushing against seedflap wall, the barrier muscle twitching in response. It's already enough to halt any form of thinking, Karkat's mind starting to pull blanks as he chirps and warbles-- the mere thought if there's any thoughts at all, of Gamzee making good on fucking him over and over until he's all Karkat can think of sounds so unnecessarily good .

Ridges start to wedge past the entry, jolting Karkat on each one that he's shaking, gripping hard on his legs. "Ddo it, thenn," he slurs, breathless and heavy, completely forgotten about any other trolls in the caravan, "..as many as you can..."

 

*

 

Gamzee's only too ready to meet Karkat's demand, easing down with his hips until something inside Karkat gives , and he sinks to the hilt with a rumbled trill.

"Now," his lips are at Karkat's throat, "I'm gonna paint your insides all in my colour." The highblood rocks his hips, grinding down into Karkat; he can feel their slick on his thighs, already overflowing and overwhelming his mate's body.

" Say my name ." He demands, arduously lifting himself.
Karkat's slick insides cling to him, from the girth of his base to the prehensile tip; the Purpleblood takes time and pleasure in slowly sinking back into his mate, muttering his name and trilling deep in his throat.

It's tortuous for the both of them, he's sure, and he loves it.
It's only when he doesn't feel a near-painful squeeze when bottoming out that he props himself up, and establishes a rhythm -- still too slow for his body's liking, but he means to wring the both of them dry.

While pumping his hips, he takes Karkat's face into his hands, forcing Karkat's attention onto him.

"Say my name," his voice is nothing more than a breathless growl, mixing with the faint rumble deep in his chest, "accept me 's your mate, Karkat. You'd only take your mate's bulge, wouldn't you?" He kisses those plump, black lips; careless and needy.

"Only your mate's material?" Another kiss, and he's inexperienced with using tongue and teeth, but he knows what feels good, invading Karkat in all aspects.

"Ask for it." He sucks on Karkat's lower lip, cool breath ghosting Karkat's cheeks. The faint slap of flesh-on-flesh can be heard, the jostle of their bodies, but he's still restraining himself.

"Tell me what you want, Karkat -- mate of mine." His attention shifts to an ear; nipping and kissing, sucking.

 

Anything other than Karkat, the troll beneath him -- his mate -- is out of his mind entirely.

 

*

 

That barbed tip pokes and prods like there's more beyond that cervic wall, more room for it to fill-- and there is, there's an entire, fertile womb chamber behind that barrier. Karkat has felt his nook ache and throb before, especially after reading something dirty; he's never felt anything ache or throb beyond that.

All that prodding gets the barrier to ease up, and that's all the tapered, barbed tip needs, really. That sliver of opening opens further as stark cool bulge surges deeper than anything's ever been inside him, Karkat jolting rigid all at once as non-coherent noise drops from his lips, almost frantic chirps ringing from his throat; if he wasn't so busy staring haze-blank at Gamzee, a glance down would show how stretched-taught puffy lips are around ridge and girth and the obvious bump at his middle.

 

Even as Gamzee says it, Karkat knows it-- he's going to be so full of purple he might drip it for a while, never mind getting knocked up.

 

He demands his name, and it's on the tip of Karkat's tongue, fumbled when Gamzee drags his bulge out-- because it drags , with how hot flesh clamps around it, ridges scraping sensitive, nerve-lined wall on it's way out, pulling moans from Karkat along with it. Giving a yelp when everything pushes back in, a wet plap as their hips meet-- there's so much slime , it's all over his thighs, pretty sure it's spilling down his ass too --and he's taken his mate to the root .

That fullness is so overwhelmingly dizzy, another piece of control is lost and Karkat can't keep his gaze straight, lashes fluttering while his eyes try and either roll or cross, blinking setting them back but not for long enough. "G hh ..Gam n zee..," Words have always come easily to Karkat, yet to be made to not even say his mate's name without trouble is a grand accomplishment, to have struck Karkat Vantas wordless-- if not that then dumb with speech works just fine, still counts.

Can barely get a proper ' yyess ' out, the word spilling in constant rhythm with deep thrusts, mixed with messy versions of Gamzee's name and babbled nonsense through hungry kisses, whimpering as teeth drag over his lip in the most fantastic way; Karkat's ruined for anyone else after this, even when his body rights and heals itself, there's no forgetting this .

The sound of it, of Gamzee nearly rutting into him, doesn't help keep his sanity at all . "Y'gonna make me a s k? For r y'ta knock mme up?" Speaking through slurring and drooly lips is so hard, Karkat should get an award for still being able to make sense. "Y-Yeah I wan' tha a t, want you t' paint me s s o deep my nook drips purple for dayss --"

 

*

 

The sound of their bodies slapping against one another, their ragged breathing, fills the caravan. Gamzee meets Karkat with trills and chittering, catching the other's plump lips whenever he can. Invading his mouth, raking his fangs over lips when he pulls away.

He's stopped pulling away, though; pushing as deep as he can go, bucking his hips into Karkat until his body tenses, and he yanks his mate's head back, burying his face in the troll's neck.

Gamzee hisses, muscles taut; his bulge throbs , tightens. With each twist of his hips, his material is filling Karkat; pouring from the barbed tip while also dripping along the length.
It's impossible for him to tell how long he stays like that, pumping himself into his mate -- when he pulls in a sharp breath, the vestiges of orgasm still clinging, Gamzee opens his eyes.

"Karkat," a rough, deep voice replaces his usual lilt, "my mate." His fingers curl further, giving a harsh tug for attention before he props himself up.

"How's it feel?" He's dazed and fuzzed, pupils blown wide; his bulge continues to writhe slowly inside Karkat, moving through its own slurry, smearing it inside the mutant.

"Y'wanna go 'gain? Could empty all myself into you, motherfucker." He keeps himself buried to the hilt, not wanting to ease up just yet; not wanting a drop of his material to go to waste.

 

*

 

His lips are going to be swollen from kissing and then Karkat will know what 'kiss-swollen' actually looks like, making needy, pitchy sounds as Gamzee's taste is transferred mouth to mouth. Fangs drag over his lip, enough to be felt and for the sharp edge to send thrills through his nerves, throat fluttering with chirrs and trills until he's keening, lips freed and left with a line of mixed saliva coming down the corner as Gamzee pushes , as if he can get any further than the hilt inside of him.

Karkat's head is pulled back a bit roughly, but not enough to actually cause hurt, more occupied with thrashing bulge and Gamzee's face pressing into the crook of his neck; with how he can feel that heavy throb, how bulge swells inside his tight, molten heat. The starkness of almost icy slurry flooding his womb gives such a shock to his system, Karkat tensing up with his mate as nookflesh clenches down, wringing in time with each deluge. Squealing high and loud from the newness of it, how he's never lost his mind like that, not even when lips were on him before, being overwhelmed to climax while he gives up more to pleasure, eyes rolling up.

Hearing his name gets some attention but it's with the tug to his head that has him refocus, albeit bliss-blank, on Gamzee, panting with a small wheeze with his heart pounding loud in his ears-- skipping over a beat this time at being called mate (might as well drop his hangup on mate-to-be). His bulge is still moving, twisting and curling over while inside him, ridges keeping them together and whatever amount of virile slime locked in place.

"F f eels.....like 'm not even inn my body..," Karkat mumbles, body giving the occasional shake from aftershock.

Could he even go again ? .....Does he want to?

Be overwhelmed so far that he's even further from his pan and body?

"...If f y'aren't done, thenn lets keep..keep...," Karkat gets some bearing to focus enough, locking blown gaze with Gamzee, "..keep going ."

 

*

 

A pulse of heat runs through Gamzee at the demand, and he's more than happy to oblige.
His hips lift, bulge slithering from Karkat's nook. The sound their bodies make when separating is obscene; a wet, sucking sound.

He glances down at Karkat, easily rolling the dazed mutant onto his stomach; Gamzee getting between his thighs once more.
"Lucky for you, a brother hardly ever gets a chance to empty himself." He pants, lifting Karkat's hips, parting his ass enough to get a look at his nook.

The lips are puffy, leaking his slime; Karkat's ass and thighs are coated liberally with their lubrication.

This time, the highblood immediately thrusts himself to the root, groaning as he's enveloped once more.
" Good breeder, Karkat." He growls, rougher, smacking into Karkat right from the start. His overworked nerves buzz with pleasure, and he wraps himself around his mate, pressing his forehead between the other's shoulders.

"Such a good breeder for me." His hands find Karkat's chest, and he cups his buds, squeezing and massaging; pinching and tugging on pert nipples.
It doesn't take long -- maybe a few minutes -- for his second orgasm to come, and his bulge spasms once more, spilling his seed into the deepest parts of his mate.

Gamzee hisses this time, shuddering, bucking harder and harder, nails digging into soft, plump flesh.

" Karkat, fuck, Karkat -- " He growls this on repeat, only noticing the smear of saliva on his mate's back when he catches his breath.

 

*

 

Karkat finally lets his legs down, his hands also aching from holding and almost digging claws into himself for so long. Put back a little bit into blank-state as Gamzee draws his bulge out, the sound is absolutely lewd , the wet squelch almost too loud, Karkat gasping as inner walls twitch and tense on air, woefully empty even though his body feels like it's allowed to relax.

Not for long, being turned over on his front and too hazy to stop or question it, only chirping in bated surprise as his hips are propped up and Gamzee's back between his thighs, a handful of ass parted away to flaunt flushed, plump nook, a dribble of slime trailing down his inner thigh.

There's no buildup this time, they don't need any, bulge driving right back into tight heat and Gamzee snapping their hips together right down to the base-most ridge, Karkat yelping from the new impact, quaking until he's used to the sensation again. Being called ' good breeder ' that tugs on the more breed-needy part of him to trill for that baser instincts reveling in the praise, because he is that.

Gamzee's wrapped around him, curled over his back and face pressing into Karkat's, hands come again to fondle at his chest, squeezing the flesh and tugging on sensitive buds as bulge fucks into him, earning a messy moan from Karkat. Sound spills more freely this time around, groaning into his arm or the floor as Gamzee plunges deep, pushing back through warming slurry. Even Gamzee's name is said in a hazy mantra, his mate gripping on him tightly as another release surges through them both, tittering chirps as Karkat's put back to trying to stop his eyes from crossing, panting heavy with pretty parted lips and red tongue stuck out over the bottom. He'd be surprised if he isn't knocked up after this.

 

*

 

Wiping his lips with the back of his hand, Gamzee sits up.
He doesn't have to think -- isn't thinking at all -- when he places a hand to Karkat's tailbone, and forces his mate flat to the floor. Half his bulge is still in that tight, wet heat; adjusting himself, Gamzee's able to sink to the hilt for a third time.

As he fucks into Karkat, hands planted to either side of the mutant's head, his nerves fuzz -- only to jolt at random, pulling a hiss or gasp from his lungs.

Part of him has stopped registering the troll under him as anything more than his mate; something meant to take his bulge. He can't even form words, and any coherent thought is shot from his mind whenever he's hit by a spike of pleasure.

By the time his third orgasm rolls around, Gamzee meets it with a mixture of pain and pleasure.

His eyes shut, brows cinching, as he ruts and rolls his hips; the muscles of his lower stomach clench so hard it nearly hurts , and the inner walls of his own nook ache in a manner he's never experienced.
Even so -- despite pumping three loads into Karkat -- he knows there's still more. Just enough for one more round.

 

Karkat's flipped onto his back again, hurriedly filled before his bulge can retract; Gamzee takes his mate's face into his hands. A cool tongue flicks Karkat's own, and he trills; exhaustion in the lines of his body, in the slower yet consistent rhythm of their bodies. He trills again, wanting those eyes on him; wanting Karkat's attention on him.

 

*

 

Perhaps he shouldn't have said 'keep going' without a clear head, without thinking through the possibility that Gamzee very well could and is going; that'll show Karkat for thinking with his nook.

Because f u c k , they've passed their second and Gamzee is already going right in for a third, pushing Karkat flat down in a way that puts pressure where bulge bends out his middle, following the length of it as it breeches again to his womb chamber.

Karkat can't , at least, he thought he couldn't, tired and oversensitive body already building up whatever dredges of pleasure it can. Making breathless groans when hips slam against his, exhausted tears forming and dropping off his lashes, wailing high and loud as Gamzee pulls him along to a third-- a third orgasm, right after the last two, his body probably lacking enough of his own red slurry to spill by now.

That has to be it, right? Even Gamzee is tired, Karkat can hear and feel that he is even through his haze. They can stop now and just bask , can't they?

 

Evidently not, Karkat whimpering as he's turned again, back on his back and without missing a beat pulsing bulge slithers right back into him, his body tense and quaking from oversensitivity. He's still making that blissed-out lewd face when Gamzee cups his cheeks, eyes half-lidded and glossy with tears with frantic, desperate chirping as his lips automatically part just a little more to take Gamzee's tongue. If it were possible, there'd be hearts for sure in his gaze; instead, Gamzee has Karkat's eyes wholly on him, unable to see or focus on anything or anyone else.

 

*

 

Cupping Karkat's chin, Gamzee sloppily kisses his mate, swapping breath and saliva while he pumps into the smaller troll -- a motion on repeat, his nerves frayed to the very ends.

Whenever a chirp squeaks out between them, Gamzee answers, breathless.
The ridges of his bulge feel numb, overheated -- a very odd feeling when he isn't outside, beneath a suncloak -- but he keeps going, even as he wipes tears from his mate's face.

This final orgasm is like a long, slow, arduous wringing of his body; each time Gamzee thinks he's peaked, the pleasure ebbs, finds a new height -- and he can't muster the energy to buck into Karkat anymore. A moderate pace is all he can manage, peppering the troll beneath him with kisses; on the lips, cheek, forehead, neck, chest. Gamzee even takes Karkat's hands and kisses his palms, trilling and chirping.

Then, all at once, he's overwhelmed. Awash in sensation. All the build-up comes at once, and he cries out -- half-surprised -- scrabbling to grab onto Karkat, not caring about his claws as he gathers the troll against him.

Gamzee cries out again, louder, sounding pained as his bulge thrashes and throbs inside Karkat.
It feels like it goes on for far too long, this tensed wringing of his body -- and he collapses the moment it's over, atop Karkat, shivering and shuddering in the immediate afterglow.

The thick, sloppy sound of his bulge retracting is accompanied by a pathetic keen from Gamzee. It's almost too much to even have the organ return inside his body.

How long they'd been mating -- and how long Gamzee lies against Karkat, panting, mind blank -- he doesn't know, and finds that he doesn't care.

 

Eventually, the highblood chirrs, turning his head to look at Karkat.

"I am..." his lidded gaze falls on his mate, and he'd be grooming Karkat if he had the energy, "so fucking empty."

 

*

 

Kissing is uncoordinated aiming for each other's mouth and hoping for the best, sloppy and extremely wet, sharing more than breath. Karkat is lost aside from following Gamzee's lips, nook being rut into for what is hopefully the last round, unsure if he could even handle this one what with his pan receding somewhere else.

It's a slow hit, bulge more or less drooling material with the lessened pump of Gamzee's hips, kisses moving from his mouth to everywhere his mate can reach, even soothing away tears. New chilled slurry is added to the brooding mix, Karkat shaking from his middle to his thighs, legs haphazardly wrapping the best he can around Gamzee in an effort to secure himself to this plane of existence, climax come again but in a slow, long-rolling wave this time.

His mate kisses even his hands, Karkat getting some sense of thought to think of Gamzee being sweet for it before that long-rolling wave is prolonged further, legs tightening as Gamzee finishes this final time. Fresh slime spilling again into him, being grabbed and gripped hard as Gamzee gives him everything, accidental scrapes gone here and there.

The sound he makes is pitiable , Karkat chirring what can count for soothing right then.

They're pressed flush together, before Gamzee's body gives, dropping heavily on top of Karkat. He can't even find anything in him to mind, snaking trembling arms around his mate, finally petered out though they both feel it when cold bulge begins to draw and retract, shiver and whine.

Gamzee faces him with a chirr for his attention, Karkat barely has enough in him for a huffed, weak laugh, bringing careful fingers to stroke along his face.

 

*

 

Gamzee's eyes flutter shut, and he turns toward the warm hand; Karkat doesn't feel so overwhelmingly hot anymore. They've been too close for too long, and, much as Gamzee's still cool, he's not cold . His skin has sapped enough of his mate's warmth, and he feels as though he's been sat comfortably by a fire for some time.

When, belatedly, he has enough coordination in his limbs to move, the highblood returns the pap.

"You did real good, Karkat." His fingertips trail a smooth cheek, and he kisses away any residual tears; light affections.

"Real, real good." He purrs, blissed-out, sitting up only to adjust Karkat's hips -- to keep the mutant from leaking their slurry as much as possible.

"Don't tense up your stomach," he breathes, gazing at Karkat's battered nook and slick-covered backside with a sense of satisfaction, "and keep your hips up. My bulge ain't gonna come out, don't worry none. Gave you all of me what I had." More doting, where he grabs a sheet and pulls it over the two of them, wrapping them up snugly; Gamzee holds Karkat like a much younger troll.

He thumbs drying spit from his mate's mouth, and settles with a deep sigh.

"Sleep, now. We'll clean at dusk." His strong arms wrap around Karkat, the mutant caught between his mate and the assorted pile.
Just before dozing off, the highblood mumbles something into Karkat's hair -- it sounds Beforian, outdated and foreign.

 

Zhen, staring at the ceiling of the caravan, recognises the phrase -- wonders if she ought to tell the mutant, if the mutant would believe anything she has to say.
She swims in and out of consciousness until Xia nudges her awake, Gamzee working gingerly to untangle himself from Karkat.

 

Neither Xia nor Zhen remark that the caravan reeks of genetic material.

 

*

 

His face tilts to Gamzee's fingers, to gentle lips at his tears, being praised. Karkat's mind jumps all over, how his body is tired, exhausted, sore but in the best fucking way , how he has minimal inclination to move even a bit and how crammed he is with slurry-- whatever there is of four loads that managed to stay sealed behind now-closed seedflap and isn't spilled out over their thighs, or the floor of the caravan for that matter --, that Gamzee's left behind a round bump in his middle.

How Gamzee is being all sweet and worried about him when he's probably even more sore and aching than Karkat is.

He must be a mess, though that doesn't stop Gamzee any from worrying over him, telling him how or how not to lay or move and really that just has a thrum start in Karkat's throat, emanate through his chest and neck. Wrapped up by long limbs and a sheet as Gamzee seems to settle back with him, his weight atop him giving a sense of comfort, of being secure.

Even if Karkat had any motivation or reason to move, he couldn't, being bade to sleep which sounds like a pretty great idea if he can be honest, that and continuing to pap and pet at Gamzee like he's in any state to do so.

Drowsily, Karkat nuzzles into Gamzee, into where he fits, wondering how long it might take for his body to break down potent slime, if it'd take after all of that (he imagines, because of how hot he runs, that it should, but Karkat doesn't know the specific sciences behind his body. With something like this, he'd like for Kanaya to be around so he can ask-- not with her looming over his shoulder at the very moment though).

Karkat vaguely hears whispered words, sleepily chalking it up to be more sweet murmurings as he drifts down, properly tired out properly deflowered, oh stars.

He's still somewhat sleepy, when he's being roused up by his mate unwinding his arms, chirring with a question, not quite yet feeling shame for their activities in front of company.

Notes:

I wonder, been wondering lately, if maybe I've become too obsessive.
With this.
With trying to reach you this way.
Is this even healthy?
Am I not sick?

I wonder if I had the resources and capability to actually find you on my own if I'd actually do it.
But that's rather invasive, I think.
I'd like to believe I'm someone who wouldn't stoop to such a thing, ability or not.

I'd like to stay hopeful that I can even reach you at all, just like this.

Are my actions in vain? Useless to the end?

Regardless, to you and everyone else, please be safe.

Chapter 17: Rise, But Fall Again

Summary:

Hello all. I was unwell for a time. Still kind of am, to be honest. But I started something and I intend to see it through, no matter what.
I did want to address something, even at the risk of making me seem asshole-ish. At first I thought I would just let it pass, but I told myself that I would address things that bother me, and it has been bothering me. Some of you seem to be in the belief that this is a fic, despite my explicit statement at the very beginning of this series story and chapter that it was not.

This is an already written RP log, written by me as Karkat, and the friend I am looking for as Gamzee. I am using our logs in the hopes of somehow reaching them, as I've said before, that they've been missing for some time. To be exact, they've been missing since January 13th of this year 2022, the last time they responded. This is unusually long, in consideration of other times they've let me know that they needed a break and were going to be MIA from responding, and there's been no response since. Not that I am entitled to knowing when they're going to go, but this long without anything was just worrisome, is all.

I am reminding most of you that this is not a fic. I'm trying to find my friend.

Notes:

I'm sorry for sounding like an ass. I just thought is was a disservice and disrespectful.

I hope you're doing alright, wherever you are and whatever you're doing.

I remember writing through this part, with you. I loved the irony of us writing something cute and then with a big side of depressing, haha. There's a lot of ups and downs, a frantic series of hills, but they're very well loved, I think so anyway.

Gamzee runs his nose along Karkat's cheek, their bodies still sheathed beneath the sheet.

"Time?" Gamzee murmurs, directed over his shoulder.
Xia peeks out of the back of the caravan, then gets to work pulling aside the thick, velvet day-curtains; she ties them off.

"Dusk." The Limeblood responds, looking everywhere but directly at the piling couple.
A hum, deep in Gamzee's throat. He considers, for a long moment, returning atop Karkat, letting sleep claim him and heal him -- but they have things to get done.

"You two go first to the stream. Your clown's strong 'nough to fight, right?" Gamzee props himself up, masking Karkat's plump body with his own.
The Limeblood chirrs.

"She's better at dusk. Come on," her attention turns to Zhen, who blinks blearily, sitting up, "we need to go wash."

"It stinks." The Indigoblooded girl says, rubbing sleep from beneath both her eyes.

"Then stop breathing." Xia retorts, hauling Zhen to her feet.
The two hop off the back of the caravan, leaving Gamzee and Karkat alone.
The highblood only sits up once he's sure they're both absolutely alone.

"How you feel?" He feels warmed from a day of slumbering atop Karkat, and blissfully empty; his faint smile, and the adoration in his gaze, says just as much while he watches his mate pull himself from sleep.

"Gonna have to go clean ourselves up some time."

 

*

 

The shame still hasn't set in yet, oh but it's trying, telling Karkat over and over that the rest of their party had been voyeurs to Karkat acting breeding bucket. It's still going be a bit before it hits him.

What does hit him is that his entire body says o u c h when even shifting, Karkat wincing as he blearily peeks out of one eye. He's still got a bit of sex-haze muddling with his head but he's otherwise much more sensible than before, vaguely noting Xia and Zhen leaving to wash up first.

It's the most satisfied he's felt the night after-- then again, Karkat only had his own fingers from then to compare to now. To him, the caravan reeks of sugar and Gamzee's own scent (something a little earthy and incense smoke, and then something else Karkat thinks he knows but can't name the breeder bit in his brain supplies ' mate ', and while Karkat agrees that's still not quite it but whatever), and now with some regained senses he can feel how sticky and tacky dried slurry is between his thighs, under his rear; the extra bit of round to his belly, not quite through with filtering seed into eggsacs, evidently.

Gamzee moves to sit up, take his comforting weight off of him and Karkat almost whines for it-- almost, he's not that addled --, taking a moment, and then another, before gingerly propping himself up, making an attempt to sit up as well, "I'm.... ow ," is Karkat's self-assessment, though he has to consider the pleasant buzz under his skin, "...but also not. I'm alright, just sore." He says with a chirr and a light, half smile, shifting a little more reminding him of dried slick, "...but absolutely we should wash up some.."

 

*

 

The small of his back, his hips and thighs, ache -- just pleasantly enough that it doesn't bog down his mood.

"Think you can walk to the river?" Gamzee doesn't know why he asks this when Karkat's stomach is still firm with his seed; maybe so that his second option will be seen as less pandering.

"A brother can bring back some water and clean up just fine here." He'd have to clean quickly and return with the water, but he's not concerned about their two guests harming Karkat.

The Limeblood's a fellow breeder who, at worst, seems a bit dry and sarcastic. The Indigoblood might be a bit more feisty, but Gamzee's mostly seen her staring off into space.

 

For the first time in hours, the highblood moves from between Karkat's thighs, shifting from beneath the blanket.

His lap is painted a dried mixture of their colours, where Karkat had leaked out onto him.
With hose out of the option, Gamzee grabs his shift, tossing it over his head. The loose garment covers his ass, and that's all he needs of it while he makes a run down to the stream.

Getting properly clean can be saved for when they have more trolls; more safety.
"C'mon, why don't you lemme grab some water back for you? There's still seed waitin' to take, anyway..," He wonders, if Karkat moved or tensed, what it'd look like; would he leak?

"That's why your thorax's all firm like that, ain't it?"

 

*

 

"Yeah, it is," Karkat sighs, feeling a mix of things as he puts a hand on the slight round (a giddy sort of elation, but also a concerning amount of looming foreboding, so many others at once), the flesh a little firmer than his usual soft pudge. Knowing that something's going to be growing in there is one thing; it's another to actually understand it. To Karkat, he knows , but it's still something to wrap his head around.

Could he even walk at all, is the question.

He should walk, especially hearing Gamzee offer to carry water back for him; it's extremely sweet, but something difficult to do (Karkat's tried once, albeit he was barely three sweeps and it was a basin that wasn't cooperating, but it was fairly hard; Gamzee's not three, but he isn't in top condition either).

 

Gamzee pulls away, shifting to stand-- and Karkat shouldn't feel the swell of smug pride to see his color dried on his mate but boy does he --, the long white shirt pulled over his head before he continues on about bringing water back.

"Absolutely not, I've still got perfectly usable legs and I ain't even gravid yet. I can carry myself to the stream, even with my body like this," is what he says, moving while speaking to get on his hands. However, mentioned perfectly usable legs have decided that they are uncooperative as well, giving a little when Karkat puts the slightest bit of weight on them, squeaking an embarrassed chirp for the fumble as he uses the firmer part of the pile to support himself.

"I still can! B-Besides! I wanted to go with you, so I could check you over and put medicine on you properly." He ends up kneeling upright, legs finally getting some part of the memo that they're a part of him, Karkat finding his tunic to throw on and gathering his leggings into his bag, fairly intent on going.

 

*

 

Although he's emptied of slurry, the sight of Karkat on his knees -- made weak-kneed by him -- excites that possessive, covetous, jealous part of him.
The highblood hums, sauntering over to Karkat.

"Ain't you so sweet." Gamzee coos, arms slinking around the mutant.

"A motherfucker used to much less care than what his mate trying to up and give, and his poor mate can't hardly get on his feet." A simple remedy; Gamzee bends, picks Karkat up, and carries him.
He holds Karkat close, chirring in pleasure at the firm bump between them.

 

They did that; he stuffed Karkat full of his material, and his mate's body is still trying to break it all down.

Gamzee wonders, while dropping from the caravan, if Karkat's stomach will be so firm when he's carrying.

 

The walk to the river is short, their arrival eliciting a sharp chirp from Xia -- who initially moves to cover herself, as if Gamzee hasn't seen it all before.

Zhen sits in the water, her figure slight and malnourished; her chest is barely there, her hips jutting beneath her skin.
Both female trolls are half-washed, Gamzee depositing Karkat onto the bank.

"Xia, my mate could use some..." He pulls off his shirt, watching the Limeblood wade closer.

"Here," she offers put a bowl, filling it with water, "it's a little cold, even to me." She checks back over her shoulder, watching Zhen, Gamzee washing off his thighs.

"Did his material take?" She asks, crouching down.

 

*

 

"I said I could walk!" Karkat complains, though only means half of it for all that he's stubborn-- yeah, walk and then what? Fall over from weak-knees?

As much as he'd like to say he wouldn't, Karkat knows somehow someway he would, lips set in a half-frown, deciding not to fight being carried but continuing to grumble under his breath about it.
But he's sure he could have made it, the actual walk over not being as far as he'd have thought. Karkat sees Xia and Zhen, though at Xia's covering Karkat also turns his head to allow her some decency-- sure, they may have similar bits but that's no reason to peep.

Gamzee sets him down at the bank, more or less asking Xia to help Karkat out as he wades deeper, rubbing at his skin.

"Thanks..," he takes the offered bowl, scooting a little more toward the water until his feet are in-- shivering as his heat clashes, the river even colder than Gamzee --getting more used to it as he shrugs his tunic up to his shoulders, ignoring how his cheeks flush so long as his front is still fairly covered. Splashes part of the bowl over his thighs to rub away dried ichor. Karkat shouldn't be surprised or shocked that Xia asks him so bluntly but the question makes him jump nonetheless, eyes wide on her.

Seeming to get some of his sense of shame back as he clears his throat to answer, "W-Well, I haven't checked yet, but I imagine it might've. It's still sitting in there."

 

*

 

Xia steps upstream of Karkat, just to avoid the slurry-swirl.

"I learned that if you clench your thorax and nothing comes out, it'll take. Eventually. Usually within a night." Xia lowers herself into the water, shivering while her body adjusts.
Her own hands go to her stomach, where she gingerly presses into the soft flesh. It feels the same, like it always has; too vulnerable to make her a viable troll. Someone always needs to protect her, if not outright feed her and wholly provide for her.

 

Village life might reduce the humiliation of it all, she thinks.

 

Her buds have shown more change than her stomach -- normally flat-chested, she already has enough to cup. Exactly like her last carry.

"The first time hurt, didn't it?" She cups water over herself, wetting her chest.

"It felt like The Grand Highblood was going to break me -- and he could, if he tried -- but he's had mates before. All dead, of course. He says none have been as 'miraculous' as me, but..." She shrugs, dipping her head under the water, coming up with a gasp.

"You can't blame a highblood for outliving their lowblood mates, can you?" She slicks back her wet hair.

"Zhen always talks about the 'old fashion' being the highblood dying with their mate, and the selfish part of me -- which is most of me -- enjoys the idea, but I'm not going to ask someone like The Grand Highblood to die for me." She scoffs, watching Karkat and Gamzee's diluted colours rush downstream.
She turns her gaze to Karkat.

"You don't have to be so embarrassed. We're meant to be used like buckets. Besides, you've got The Grand Highblood's descendant -- I'm sure his bulge is just as good as my mate's." She curls her toes and smiles, hands out for the bowl.

"Here, I'll wet your hair, if you'd like."

 

*

 

Karkat only thinks for a moment before getting the muscles in his thorax to squeeze, just lightly, before letting go. Not quite confident to do so when it makes his nook do something funny as well.

Xia fills up most of the silence, keeping it from getting a chance to be awkward, which Karkat could thank her for, the both of them sitting naked in the water. Sighing his affirmation that his first time did have the edge of pain, of never being with someone else before, but Karkat's not going to go into the details of how he didn't even feel the pain after his body got used to it how good it felt to have his walls stretched around that big fucking thing and how most of his books can't even hold a candle to that . If his body finished righting itself, then he-- probably --wouldn't leak anyway, whatever load of slime still weighing at the barrier of his closed seedflap, brooding into eggsacs.

 

Karkat's also very well aware that Gamzee could break him could have done worse than hit him, even though the thought sounds like a justification-- it wouldn't take much when Karkat has none of the defenses of a regular troll and the few things he does have is his scent and being pretty enough that at the very least he won't die in favor of being forced upon; sure, healing fast is so great but only goes so far. Thinking that The Grand Highblood could do the same to Xia y'know, without thinking of them fucking , like at all but she's still here.

She's pitiable, first to talk about his previous mates, sounding like she doesn't think that she's much compared to them (well if none of them were Limebloods then that is pretty miraculous, Karkat thinks); then to talk of dying.

 

Karkat has been taught that the higher up the spectrum, the longer life expectancy tends to be-- except for one of the Burgundy elders, who lived far longer than anyone expected, right up until she died some perigees before Karkat being taken to Eridan. It is sad, to think about, that Karkat might spend his entire life with Gamzee only to die early, in comparison to his mate's probable lifespan. He suspects it's the heat of his sunblood, that he runs hot enough that it just might burn up his life in a flash; then again, Karkat's not on the spectrum, and if he places hope in words from a raving drunken lunatic from that one time (the one who spewed nonsense about Karkat being the bridge between Burgundy and Fuschia), he might live longer than anyone expects him to.

It's his turn to scoff, snorting even, "Just because this body is made that way doesn't make it any less embarrassing, that the highest expectation of me is to take bulge and slime and pump out a grub or some." Huh, and yet, there he is, a wombful of slime and the probability of a grub high as fuck .

Flushing at her comment comparing ancestor and scion's bulge-- feeling like she said it just to have Karkat think about it --, Karkat turns anyway, handing Xia the bowl, "If you wouldn't mind..," taking his tunic the rest of the way off and setting it on the dry part of the bank, instinctively hunching inward, arms in front to cover his chest, bracing for the water.

 

*

 

Xia takes the bowl, rising from the water, stepping behind Karkat.

"It's an honour ." Unceremoniously, perhaps for insinuating what he did, Xia dumps the first wash of water right onto Karkat's head.

"Some breeders take advantage of their position and laze around, but those breeders don't tend to live very long. Usually because their mates are pan-deficient." She takes more care in the next wash, tilting Karkat's head back, smoothing down his hair.

She's careful of his horns, of course, and lightly drags her blunt nails along his scalp.
"At least, that's how it is for Purplebloods." She settles into a rhythm of bending, scooping, and washing.

"Do you think The Grand Highblood would pick anyone to be his mate? There are enough breeders for him to be choosy -- not that I'm particularly special. I could laze around all day and make all the Purplebloods care for me, but, if that were my attitude, I wouldn't be The Grand Highblood's mate. I'd be with some fucking Cerulean, probably for-use as a public breeding hole." She says this only with mild disgust, shaking out the ends of Karkat's hair with her fingers.

"Some trolls get a thrill from fucking breeders. They don't want the responsibility of a grub , though. His idea was, probably, to abort whenever I carried, or otherwise find a way to make me infertile." Xia was so sure she'd die from both methods; either emotionally or physically.

She tosses the bowl onto the bank and runs her claws through Karkat's hair a few times, gingerly untangling what she can.

 

Gamzee and Zhen wander upstream, Zhen's eyes on Karkat.

"You've still got material in you." There's a sharpness to her gaze that wasn't there earlier, and she makes an effort to gesticulate only with her remaining hand.

"Does it hurt? I can open your seedflap for you. I've done it for her," she tips her chin to Xia, who is just taking a moment to look over Gamzee, "a bunch of times. Helped with the birth, too. Anyone in your caravan have experience?" She asks Gamzee, who chirrs, slinking to Karkat's side.

"Nope." He responds, side-to-side with Karkat.

Xia, almost automatically, tilts his head back and wets his hair.

"Will anyone listen to me if I give them care instructions?" Zhen's brows furrow; it doesn't look like she smiles much.

"Probably -- but we got an almost-adult with us. Chahut Maenad. Real Lusus-type bitch." Gamzee's eyes shut as Xia runs her claws through his hair.

"I'll get my chat on with her, then." Zhen crosses her arms, glancing back at her dress.

 

*

 

The first dump of water is freezing , Karkat yelping from it with his eyes scrunched shut-- that...felt like it was on purpose, but he's too shivery-stuck to call Xia out on it.

After that it feels like he's being scolded, not helping in the way her fingers move more gently through his hair, reminding him of Kanaya almost. His mouth definitely gets him into more trouble than not and Karkat's getting the idea that this is one of those times. Xia had told him she does everything she can to not feel useless, his words must have implied to her that Karkat thought she was a troll like that; he can't even imagine having such a thing done to him, knowing very well it could have happened-- could've happened when Ampora got what he wanted out of him and became bored.

The next rinse is much kinder, though Karkat still braces and holds his breath, keeps his eyes closed. "..I'm sorry..," he says sheepishly but he does mean it.

Zhen must have come close, remarking on Karkat's situation with his gut. She sounds much clearer than earlier, and Karkat guesses it must be some of the rot lifting from her pan, that she seems sharper. "It-It's not bad, kind of difficult, only when I'm reminded that it's there." Which just gets him flustered when she offers to help him out to empty.

Seeing Xia switch from his hair to Gamzee's brings some irrational sense of irritation; that she's too close, there's too much touching. Though, it's gone in a moment,

 

*

 

"For what?" Xia halts her motions, looking down at Karkat.

"You just have a village mindset. I used to be half-feral and bite at The Grand Highblood. You'll change." She hands off Karkat the bowl with a suggestive trill, and takes Zhen, directing her to the waterside.

The both of them towel off, Xia tossing on her shift before moving onto the task of helping Zhen dress -- because she'd not been stripped and forced into an ugly, colourless piece of cloth. She's Purple, after all; that afforded her some respect.

 

Either that, or none of the adults found her attractive with her malnourished wriggler-body.

 

The Limeblood helps Zhen dress, wrapping layer upon layer of fabric around her until the final, embroidered layer settles on top; she ties it all off at the waist in a bow.

Meanwhile, Gamzee's hair is dripping, and he's still sat beside Karkat.

"Might be some type of miracle we found those two motherfuckers." He rumbles, taking a sidelong glance at Karkat.

"They got practical knowledge what to be shared 'fore we part ways -- Sister Chahut'll benefit much from Sister Zhen." His voice is a low drone, relaxed and content.

Xia calls that they'll be heading back into the caravan, and Gamzee waves them off.

Once they're out of sight, he leans over and plants a kiss to his mate's cheek.

"How's it feel with that other breeder here? Trust her experience?" Gamzee wishes he had warmth to offer Karkat but, if the Limeblood's slight shivering is anything to go by, this tepid water must be freezing to Karkat.

"You get out once you're finished. We'll wrap you up tight and make tracks."

 

*

 

Being able to change and accept change is a great skill, but Karkat doesn't want change so much that he loses himself. He doesn't let his discomfort with the statement show, however, instead blinking in slight bewilderment at the kind of trill Xia sends at him when she gives him the bowl, taking Zhen with her to dry off; looks away at some other part of the river to afford them some privacy to dress, despite his interest at how similar Zhen's clothing looks to the traders from the other continent.

Gamzee's still beside him, and Karkat hums in agreement, anything Zhen has to teach will be helpful; reminds himself to ask Xia to show him how to do much more things to be helpful-- being book-smart is nice, but better is adding to one's common sense-smarts.

 

Xia is waved off as they return to the caravan, but as soon as they seem to be out of sight Karkat titters from his throat due to the sudden kiss to his cheek, heat in his face fighting off some of the shivers as he answers, "Mmh, yeah. It's kind of her, that she's willing to share her own knowledge and experience. I had always planned to ask one of the other breeders that lived closeby for this kind of help. I'm relieved, and a little glad, that she's here as someone to learn from, even if our understandings clash."

Gamzee must be worried about the water being too cold for him, which is kind of true since Karkat does prefer warmer waters but despite that, it's not super bad once he's a bit more used to it.

"Nonsense. I should at least be able to handle this much, shouldn't I?" Stubborn as ever, Karkat scoots himself a bit more into the water, just to where it's up to the start of his hips, tugging Gamzee by the hand while trying not to shiver as heavily, "C'mon, put your head here," he points to his lap, "You've still got stuff in your hair. And I still wanna put medicine on you."

 

*

 

Gamzee humors Karkat, laying his head into the mutant's lap.
Even with the rush of cold water, Karkat's warm enough to make him sigh.

"Maybe she understand you more than you think." Maybe it's just part of her nature to be considerate, but Gamzee knows he wouldn't have stopped halfway through washing another's hair just to help some cullbait dress.

Zhen didn't even look like she was antsy to get going.

Then again, Zhen seems like a much harsher troll when her head is on right. Those small, sharp ice picks she carries with her must have seen some good use.

 

"Ain't got Chahut or Marvus right now. Let 'em take care of you." Gamzee feels cool water rush past his head, tipping his chin back to make it easier for Karkat.

"They at least done a birth, and, if they ain't lying, seems it wasn't their fault the grub passed. That's some experience, ain't it? 'Sides, a brother don't got the same know on all this, you feel me?" He chirrs.

"In time, he will."

 

*

 

Karkat did not take into account that Gamzee would be looking up at him from his lap, ignoring the heat on his face to gingerly drag his fingers through the remaining knots and tangles; there aren't many, even though Xia stopped halfway through.

Gamzee's hair is surprisingly long, at least in the water when pulled out of curling and free of tangles. Karkat feels the temptation to see if he could straighten it-- Kanaya had bought the pressing tool for it, and it was a big hit for the trolls about a sweep or two older than him at the time, those who wanted to see how they looked with their curls straightened like some fancy highblood (when she'd given in to Karkat pleading for her to do it on his hair, with all the special hair oils and stuff he looked like the kind of troll that would get called 'young master').

For Gamzee......he'd unquestionably look Navy, or even Violet if they dared (if he was willing).

 

His mate tilts back for him without even being asked, Karkat carefully grazing his claws over his scalp, only rubbing around hornbeds enough to take care (perhaps teasing by lingering too long, if anything). "Yeah, I feel you. They've got far more experience than me, that's for sure." Karkat chirrups back, though not without a laugh and a gentle rib, "Wait, so initially you planned to knock me up and just wing it since you don't know what to do yet?? Fucking yeah we're lucky to have run into them, huh?"

It's not meant at all in a criticizing way, Karkat now laughing behind a wet hand, "If you sit up I can squeeze your hair out. We'll dry off and I'll bandage you up proper, yeah?"

 

*

 

Gamzee trills, then calms into a slow purr.

"Motherfucker, this whole-ass thing's been us flying by the seat of our pants." He admits, tilting his head into Karkat's touch.

When was the last time he'd let someone bathe him?
He'd probably been a pupa or wriggler, thrashing while Chahut or Marvus tried to get him in the water.

Back then, water meant death. Now, it's comforting.

 

"You get a gift from The Mirthful Messiahs, you take it. We wasn't planning on getting no gifts, though, seeing as a motherfucker can pray their life away, and still get on the bad side of the malicious Messiah -- Sister Zhen a good example." Reluctantly, leaving a kiss to Karkat's stomach, Gamzee sits up, his hair sopping wet.

"Supposedly, been nothing but devout, and yet her pan's rotting. Ain't that a shame? Looking like a malnourished troll, too, 'cause she got the body of a wriggler on her, like Brother Karako." His ears flick, clearing themselves of water.

He chuckles, toes curling in the water.

"So, if we make good time, should probably get to the caverns in a few nights." His lips thin for a moment, his purr dying.

"Know I said some shit 'bout Barzum. Ain't sure on it. Sopor does some miracles, and them Jades're inclined to care for their pupae, but... even her oculars was burnt. Gonna have to pray and hope The Messiahs ain't taken no one early."

 

*

 

That makes him wonder, about Zhen, being as devout as she is-- supposedly , as Gamzee puts it --, wouldn't her piety have brought her good karma by now.

Well, as far as Karkat's experiences with gods, deities, messiahs , cosmic beings and so on from on high go, it doesn't matter how good one can be, a god is still gonna be the kind of jerk that gives them trouble about it. For that, he feels sympathetic toward her, praying for a cure.

 

"It could have been something else too, y'know? I've heard stories of some cloisters from other lands that don't handle their grubs like they should."

Much in the opposite way of how Karako's Jade saw to the weaker, less-likely to survive grubs until they were healthy, he's heard of such things where some cloisters don't even do the bare minimum for their Mother Grub, resulting in sickly clutches and grubs dying early-- some grubs dying because of their caretakers' negligence.

Gamzee sits up with Karkat coming behind him to gather his hair together, already beginning to curl back to it's usual state as water drips down his back. The purring ebbs down as Karkat squeezes, for a moment worried about having pulled Gamzee's hair wrong before his features turn somber at the mention of Barzum.

 

He hopes not, that her eye was able to be healed, that she's still alive even; he will walk out into the sun with his own eyes wide open if either twin is hurt beyond healing, or worse, dead.

"......D'you think your Messiahs will hear a prayer from a mutant?" Karkat asks quietly, standing behind Gamzee with his face tucked at the crook of his mate's neck, hands on his shoulders while aware that being fully out of the water is slightly colder than usual. Well, they heard a wish, so Karkat wouldn't know why they'd ignore a prayer. If he has to, he'll even pray to the stars at the risk of Gamzee calling him out on heathen-ry; would the cosmos, even the Messiahs, grant him a second wish if he made it?

 

*

 

"Ain't even sure they heed the prayers of their own devotees, but they ain't fit to forgive no heathens. Accept The Mirthful Messiahs, and they'll accept you; for better or worse." A splash of cold water down his back, and his hair is already trying to curl itself back into its natural, messy fluff.

The highblood gets to his feet, water clinging to him like diamonds; pooling in his collarbones.

" Blood don't matter. Whether The Mirthful Messiahs're accepted matters -- 'cause we're the only ones what believe in life after death." His arms wrap around Karkat, pulling the mutant close.

"Dark Carnival awaits all devotees, Karkat. Just a choice on whether or not you wanna join us in ever-lasting life like that." With a pap to the cheek, Gamzee steps out of the river, shaking off his feet.

He's about to dry off when he remembers what Karkat had said, and instead lays the towel out, and takes a seat.

"You wanna medicate me, right?" He crosses his legs, eyes on his mate.

"All those holes and cuts from earlier closed themselves up, but a motherfucker could use some relief on the bruise on his back. Got that from that small bastard what flung that big-ass ball-and-chain over his head." The bruise is healing around the edges, but it's the most painful thing Gamzee can feel, right now.

"Got anything for it? Ain't like it's a real big deal. Us clowns can handle some real damage. Don't make it painless, though." He offers Karkat a smile, resting his chin in his hand.

 

*

 

Talk about godly whims. He can't say that it isn't disappointing, but what can Karkat do about a cosmic being?

But Karkat doesn't do anything to belay his own personal thoughts, trying to understand what's being said; it'd be good of him to at least understand some of the Mirthful teachings, he thinks anyway.

Gamzee rises, pulling Karkat into him while making life after death sound really good-- that or it's just that Karkat's momentarily twitter-pated while being held that Gamzee can charm him with words more easily.

His mate releases him with a pap, going toward the drier part of the bank where his towel is set down with Gamzee sitting atop it. Karkat tries and fails not to show how he perks up, coming out of the river. He's made painfully aware of how the cold water and air has his chest buds stiffened for who knows how long, Karkat grabbing his shirt from where he'd set it down and his bag to take over to Gamzee.

"Sure do," though, true to Gamzee's word, the worst of it from back then is already closed up and healed over for the most part, Karkat relieved but somehow feeling a twinge of disappointment. That bruise however has a nasty look to it, even though it looks like it was much bigger than it is now. "Don't make it painless? Alright..," well, he's got a numbing balm and a pain-relieving salve, at least one of those should be good to use.

Gamzee has no business smiling at him like that, Karkat moving to sit behind him so that he doesn't have to be subject to it. First things first, Karkat feels the area around the bruise, and then the bruise itself, checking for any lumps that shouldn't be there and just for Gamzee to tell him where and how much it does hurt under his skin. From his bag, Karkat pulls out a little pot of relief salve, as well as another pot with something to relax the muscles and nerves, and something else for the surrounding skin. Dabbing a finger from all three, Karkat mixes the salves on his hand before smearing it on top of the area, "...how's that? Is it working for the bruise at least?"

 

*

 

"I mean -- " Gamzee chuckles, then sighs, relaxing into Karkat's touch.

"I mean just 'cause it takes a lot to kill a clown don't mean we feel no pain when we get our skin broken and blackened. If a brother took it upon himself to sink his teeth into me, might not kill me -- might not even get through all my skin -- but'd hurt all the same."

He's glad that, whatever Karkat's smearing onto his back, it seems to be smooth and nowhere near as foul as the remedies he's used to.
The highblood sighs another agreement, nodding.

"Feels like miracles. Kurloz got the most know-how on medicinals, so he'd probably masticate some leaves into a paste and smear that on me. Not that a motherfucker'd let his hands on him. Just -- we ain't got this same kind'a shit." The skin, and soon muscle, feel pleasantly numbed and cooled.

It feels like he could lay all day by the riverside, but they do have to keep going -- and he'd let Karkat smear him with those salves from horn-to-toe, but they should keep it for dire needs.
Reluctantly, Gamzee gets to his feet, mostly dry sans his hair.

"C'mon," he pulls Karkat up, noting with relief that his mate's having an easier time moving than he was when they woke, "let's get on going." He grabs the towel and quickly dries the rest of Karkat, wrapping the thin, ragged fabric around his mate with a quiet chuckle.

"Think you can walk on back yourself?" Gamzee shrugs on his shift, intending to dress in the caravan.

Two of the smaller adults looked to be around his size -- and he doesn't mind making due with baggy garments.

"Y'know," he starts, returning to Karkat's side, "if we ever get on like that and Sister Chahut sees you having your wobbly strutpods the next night, she ain't gonna let us off easy none." Nevermind that the entire camp would hear Karkat -- and none of them have the graces Xia and Zhen do.

The twins would probably ask what had Karkat making such noises during the day, and Gamzee has no idea how he'd answer that question -- or if he'd even want to answer it.

 

*

 

The higher up the spectrum, the more resilient the troll, but Karkat gets what Gamzee means, taking care to work the salve into his skin, penetrate the bruising for more effective healing, fingers careful.

He talks about Kurloz being their go-to for medicines, but it sounds like Kurloz only had half the process, using unrefined herbal paste.

"Good thing then, that I learned how to make this kind of shit before we'd set out again. Mine probably won't be as refined as these, but they'll work the same." Karkat tries not to bring up that Kanaya made the salves, doesn't want to start another thing. He's grateful, that she'd shown him the general process from start to end, and even left him recipes for reference; all his herb collecting by the pond isn't going to go to waste either.

 

Gamzee stands but Karkat for the most part is done anyway, sealing the pots and putting them away, being pulled up to standing as well. Tittering in his throat as he's dried off and wrapped in the towel, trying not to stutter as he speaks, "Yeah, I can walk myself back...," it wasn't a long walk, and his legs aren't weak like earlier. Karkat pulls his tunic over his head, shifting the towel to stay closed around his waist, at least until he could get his leggings back on.

 

"Hm?" From what Karkat's been witness to, Chahut took every chance to poke and prod a teasing remark when she knew something had gone on-- teased Gamzee for that rattling hiss he made while they were in the caravan, and kept ribbing him the rest of the night. If Karkat gets caught in her line of fire, he'd die on the spot of embarrassment and shame, he's sure.

Humming in thought, he takes careful time to think about his response, "...So, what you're saying is that...we should get all of our getting on now while we can, or don't get caught after we've picked everyone up." Karkat says it like these are two completely normal responses, hand going through his bag, feeling around for what he wants. Discreetly popping a candy piece into his mouth and tugging Gamzee down to plant his mouth on his, pushing the candy past cool lips.

Pulling away, the flush only hits him after the fact, Karkat unable to really look Gamzee in the face anymore.

"...I'm sorry, to surprise you with that..," he starts, figuring how to convey his words, "...I know it's not as significant as a head-- as Cronus Ampora's head --, but I figure that I should make a promise to you, too. That I'm going to do my best, in everything, while I'm with you," Karkat gives him a bright, beaming smile, "I try not to make promises that I can't keep."

 

*

 

As if the mutant didn't taste sweet enough, a surprised trill leaves Gamzee as a piece of hard candy passes between them.
He flushes, although he shouldn't -- not after what they'd done during the previous day, how he knows he'd still feel his material waiting to take if he touched Karkat -- and belatedly sucks on the sweet.

 

It tastes like Karkat.

 

His hands move from the other's forearms, climbing to his shoulders, until Gamzee can gingerly cup Karkat's face.
The troll shouldn't be able to smile like that, to look so innocent and adorable that his pusher aches.

"Then," he leans down, seals their lips, and pushes the melted hard candy back into Karkat's mouth, "I promise to make the best life for you. Best as I can, anyhow." He offers up his own promise, arms snaking around Karkat.

"Ain't gonna be no village-life, but we get on real well most of the time. Get to see Alternia. Travel all through The Empire. Also, gonna have seven Indigobloods to protect you." He returns Karkat's smile, and steals another kiss.

"If you're talking on going 'gain, though," he nuzzles into the mutant's damp hair, "I ain't so sure I even got any material in me -- and you just got back up on your feet." He lowers his mouth to Karkat's ear, quieter.

"Can use my fingers and tongue on a brother, if he feels so inclined, at dawn."

 

*

 

As blushing as he is, Karkat learns something good-- if he ever wants to make Gamzee flush the way he is now, a deep lavender moving down from the tips of his ears, Karkat should kiss him again just like that. At least it'll work until the shock of him doing something like that wears off.

Gamzee had moved up his arms until cool hands reach his face, making just as much a trill as the other when the candy is returned, now slightly chilled but tasting just as good if not better but Karkat's not going to say that. He could get misty-eyed from Gamzee saying such things, making promises to him when he'd already done as much with the head he presented, even if Karkat didn't really get it at the time-- still doesn't, but he understands a little better than before (thus, his stunt with the candy piece).

Though Karkat's cheeks blush darker, fit to steam at Gamzee's offer of his mouth and fingers right at his ear. "D-Don't push yourself.." he stumbles, nearly fidgeting as his hand comes up to his cheek, as if that'd hide how red Karkat is (but maybe, if he could ever work up the nerve-- and if his mate would let him --, Gamzee might let Karkat take care of him and his body some time, one of these times).

He recovers when they start walking again, thinking more about traveling around the continent.

"Seeing more of Alternia sounds pretty nice. I remember you said you usually stick to the nothernside; what's it like there, up north? Y'know, besides cold." Karkat's only seen flurries of snowfall but never a true snow, the kind that blankets everything and anything it falls on.

 

*

 

"Peaceful." He sticks close to Karkat's side, hair beginning to fluff up as it dries in the night air.

"You go up far 'nough, most trolls ain't gonna get their bother on with you. Ain't no Kingdoms or cities or villages up there." He's talking far, far North; incredibly removed from their central location.

"There're some mountains in the distance, always. One day, might be wise to climb 'em, see what's on the other wise. Could be fatal, though." He shrugs, attention waning with the smell of food and fire.
Crouched at the back of the caravan, Zhen makes use of an ornate fan to keep a steady flame, while Xia holds a heavy pan above the small pit.

Gamzee chirrs, patting Karkat before hopping into the back of the caravan.

"Good, you're back." Zhen speaks above the flap of the fan.

"Mind taking over? My hand's tired. I'm used to rotating hands, but..." She waves her stump, and Xia clicks at her.

"A few more minutes won't kill you." She scolds, Zhen already having painted her face.
"We're having fried tuber flats. They're easy to make and keep for a few nights, so I figured it'd be nice to make a few." Set out on a cloth are the finished ones; the fresh dripping fat collecting.

"Eat some. This is the last batch, and then we can get going -- we're going to a cloister, right?" Xia looks to Karkat from her position, uneven hair sticking up.

"If it'd be alright... I know an Oliveblood in the area who... Well, I haven't seen her for a long time, and she roams like an Indigoblood. She might agree to come with us."
Zhen's gaze flicks to Xia.

" Not her ." The Indigoblood grumbles.

"They're not going to kill me for asking." Xia flips the last batch, and returns them over the fire.
Childishly, Zhen sticks out her tongue.

 

*

 

Peaceful, but Karkat bets if one went alone it'd be more lonely than anything.

From how Gamzee puts it, it sounds like hardly anyone goes there; did the Empress even reach that far, where for her it might even be too cold? Beyond the mountains?

As they near the caravan, Xia and Zhen are set up at the back of it, a fire pit under them as the smell of food breezes their way. Gamzee, Karkat assumes, leaves him to go change, hopping up into the caravan, Karkat watching the other two curiously.

"Yeah, that's where we're heading," After a moment, Karkat makes up his mind, moving toward Zhen to crouch by her, hand out for the fan, "Here. I can take over," Fanning a firepit isn't new for him, though doing it with such a pretty fan, one that obviously matches the embroidered pattern of Zhen's topmost layer, makes him feel a little bad

They do something similar with tubers, Karkat's village, and he can't deny perking up when Xia says to eat some. "Can I ??" Eventually, he winds up with one hand fanning and the other with a piece of tuber, nibbling away at it since his candy had melted.

Xia begins to mention an Olive she knows, though Zhen immediately is against the idea. As for Karkat, "Well, I don't mind. I can check with Gamzee though, see how he feels about it."

 

*

 

"Feel 'bout what?" Gamzee hops out of the back of the caravan, landing light on his feet.
He's found a pair of trousers and a loose, long shirt; a fabric sash, tied at the waist, keeps his clothing in order.

Xia perks up. "An Oliveblooded friend of mine should be nearby. I was wondering if I might be allowed to meet with her? She could be persuaded to join our -- your caravan." She combs her hair down, although it's clearly been cut lop-sided; perhaps an insult from her captors.

Gamzee crouches beside Karkat, waiting for a click from Zhen before grabbing a tuber flat.

"Just so you know," the Indigoblood speaks up, watching Karkat fan and eat in a manner she would've if she still had both hands, "the Oliveblood in question was Xia's pre-mate palemate. I'm not sure how your ancestor would feel about them meeting."

For a moment, Xia looks like she could toss the hot oil right atop Zhen's head, and beat her half-dead with the hot pan. Then, with a breath, she removes the heavy pan, and allows it to cool on the ground.

"Emphsis on pre-mate . Not to mention, she's probably found another palemate -- Tegiri, for all I know." The Limeblood waves away the insinuation, while Gamzee sighs.

" That doesn't matter." Xia continues.

"She acts as an assassin. Sure, she trusts clowns about as far as she can throw them -- but that's the norm. Besides, she doesn't have a consistent hive. I might be able to convince her that it'd be mutually beneficial for us; in return for protecting the caravan, she gets some food and shelter."

Gamzee listens to Xia's pitch, nudging Karkat once she's finished.

"Ain't real interested in dealing with more heathens, but, if she keeps her maw shut on all what she don't know -- and you two don't get pale -- I don't see why not. What you feel on it, Karkat?" He defers to his mate, while Zhen pouts her lips; painted purple in a surprisingly rare show of pride for their blood colour.

 

*

 

From what Karkat understands, Xia means to add another capable troll to their party-- combat-capable, at least, considering they've only got Gamzee, who Karkat would prefer if he could at least heal the rest of the way up before they get into anything again. And unless Zhen is getting better at one-handing things and being on the clearer side of her pan, her, him and Xia are not combat-ready.

It'd be smart of them while they don't have the whole troupe together, respectively. Personally, Karkat has no problem with them being her ex-palemate, but it seems Zhen, and even Gamzee, do (which, really, Karkat gets but at the same time doesn't).

"..In terms of numbers, I think it'd be a smart move. There's four of us, but only one, you , is combat-capable. I can damn well try, Xia seems pretty fast, and I'm sure Zhen is still something to watch out for while she's in her head, but otherwise that's still three incapable. Adding another troll who can fight if we need it would be a good move."

Karkat hums in thought, "....I'm not going to question Xia's fidelity, and I don't think either of you should, too, but that's not really my business."

 

He can understand, has been in a position to understand, if Xia has underlying feelings where she misses her past relationships, so Karkat has nothing to say against that.

 

*

 

Zhen clicks, both in her throat and in her mouth.

"You're right, it's not really your business. It's my business. You don't know what a liability Xia is to herself." She gestures, the sleeves of her many-layered dress making her movements more graceful than they are -- and, mercifully, hiding her missing hand.

"Polypa used to be in competition with this Olive-Gold duo. The Olives would piss each other off all the damn time. If things looked like they were about to become physical, which, they usually were, Xia would just slide her ass into auspistice -- not by, like, kicking the Olive in the side of the head. She'd just get extra friendly, wave around her open hands, like that meaty bitch couldn't just break her fucking neck!"

"See," Xia hides her smile, working to wrap up the fresh food, "this is what she's normally like when she's not praying to The Messiahs. A too-loud wriggler." She hops off, returning with a small can to collect the drippings.

Zhen spares a look at Gamzee and Karkat.

"At least, like this, I'm useful . Combat-competent, too." She points to the sleek, extremely sharp icepick stashed in the sash of her dress.

"If you know where and how deep to stab, it's easy to bring down any troll. Not to mention, you can induce a prolonged, painful death by rupturing multiple bladders; the gastric sac or dissolving tubes seem to cause the most agony." Lightly, while passing by her, Xia knocks Zhen on the head.

The Indigoblood clicks again, righting herself.

 

Gamzee chuckles, knees tented.

"Sounds like something what you'd do -- walk up on an angry motherfucker with your bare hands. That a breeder thing?" He helps Karkat to his feet, and then helps Karkat into the back of the caravan.

Xia's called the to front, to give him directions; it leaves Zhen and Karkat alone in the back.

The small Indigoblood casts her gaze around, as if trying to memorise each and every item in the back.

"You've been eyeballing my dress." She starts, unceremoniously, but not aggressively.

"Do you want one?" It'd take a lot of fabric, but Zhen would start with the outermost layer, anyway.

 

*

 

Zhen definitely sounds much fiercer, more of a force to be reckoned with, in her current state of mind. Can speak so easily of how simple it is to make a troll go through agony; at least, before Xia bonks her on the head, clicking like a loud pupa would after being interrupted.

Her words kind of stick with him in a way; as long as one knew where and how deep to stab someone, it'd be simple to bring down any troll.

"Dunno, maybe it's a mutant thing. I don't think any of the other breeders I've known have had to," Karkat shrugs, but maybe there's some truth to it. Both he and Xia seem to have a boldness in common, even if their view are different.

The tubers are all done cooking with Xia already wrapping them up for storing in the caravan, Karkat brightening as she collects the drippings-- whether it solidified or stayed as liquid, it'd still be useful later on. Whatever may have been out is now packed up properly, Gamzee pulling Karkat up into the caravan before heading to the front.

Thinking to try sorting some of their things out, take inventory and account-- ooh, even search for compartments like he thinks there might be, if this is a merchant's caravan. It's just him and Zhen in the back for now, and while he's not all that keen on her and Gamzee's conclusions about his Elder, she's for the most part an alright troll.

 

Karkat jumps, that she'd caught on to how he'd been looking at the fabric and it's embroidery, "O-Oh...I'm sorry, for being rude...," though that turns to him looking wide-eyed at what she'd asked. How does he answer that?? Yes, he does want one, the ensemble is so pretty and elegant-- Kanaya hasn't tried to make one with the silks she gets from their traders, and she usually can't afford an entire set to study --but there's a lot of questions with 'hows's in them that he has. Karkat bites his lip as he frowns, thinking about how Zhen would probably get one-- if she wasn't messing with him. "...Not if you have to go through trouble for it..."

 

*

 

"How would I not have to go through trouble for it?" Zhen asks, sizing up the mutant.

"I suppose the easiest way would be to find a Terrorailor, but everyone likes the simple, ugly shit. Long, seamless gowns; tight hose and long tunics. They won't know how to make anything a Purpleblood likes. Besides, I'm better than most Terrorailors and Screamstresses I've come across." Zhen omits that she makes a point, usually, to cull those trolls.

Their businesses clog up the streets, and she likes stealing all their wares, atop that.

 

"I made this," she hops to her feet, doing a quick twirl for Karkat, "and I've made tons of other garments in the past. You know, for our current and past troupes. It's repetitive work, but it keeps me inside the tents and caravans, where I'm most useful. I'm not blind. I know I have all the presence of a deformed wriggler, clown or not." She stalks across the caravan, using her forearm to bump open one of the seats.

She pulls out a sleeveless, high-necked, tight black dress. The sides have been slashed dangerously high, and the back seam is rife with a jade ribbon left to lighten in the daylight; the same shade of thread used to embroider the borders of the dress.

The seat slams shut, Zhen hissing silently at it before composing herself.
"This," she holds out the dress before her as best she can, "is what she was wearing when we were captured. I made it, too." As carefully as she can, she places the garment down.

"I'm glad they -- the adults -- forced her out of it and into the ass-ugly shift. She kept complaining at me that I made the slits too short. Only stopped when I damn near snipped up to her waist." She hums, flopping beside Karkat.

"It would've been even more difficult to keep the adults off her if she looked decent ." Her arms cross, and she settles down for a moment, seeming to almost zone out before coming back.

"I can make you something." There's a haziness to her, now, but she's still clinging.

"My pan is... Write it down, or scribble something out. I think I might pray and nap before I start embarrassing myself."

 

*

 

"You made that??"

Zhen has her own talents too, Karkat internally berating himself for thinking she wasn't capable. He's all wide-eyed awe at the piece she pulls out, blinking in half-disbelief that it was Xia's. "That's gorgeous. The foreign traders that come to trade with my village, they wear that style, or at least similar to it. My Jade, my caretaker, would be envious, literally green with envy that you can make this. She's been trying for sweeps."

The slit rides extremely high on that black dress, like if one wore nothing underneath it would simply cascade down the front and backside, fluttering open on occasion and flash anyone who looked at the right time. Imagining himself in that piece in particular leads to some more suggestive imagery.

Zhen speaks some more about their time as captives, how Xia had been made to wear that shift she has on now-- as a way of disrespect on her, he suspects, those adults taking her color and proper clothes; though, Zhen said it might have been just as well, since it made those other Indigo less likely to come after her just went after her and her hand for protecting Xia.
A look starts to come over her, Karkat not really noticing until Zhen slows down and her eyes cloud over with something else trying to peek through. Worriedly, Karkat tries to steady her by the shoulder, "What's wrong? ....Is...are you going back again?" Karkat wishes he knew how to treat panrot, he'd cure it in a second for her; it looks a little scary to have to go through.

 

*

 

Zhen giggles, sounding eerily similar to the twins.

"Your caretaker has more to her life than gospel and textile." She shrugs, small under Karkat's palm; under the layers of her dress.
"It's best at dawn and dusk, and midday -- but no one's awake at midday unless we're fasting. Xia can't fast if she's carrying... The moons aren't right, yet, anyway." She nods to herself, blinking slowly.

"I'd offer to show your Jade anything she doesn't know, but I'll probably die before we next meet -- and, after that, we won't see each other. I might see you. I might see Xia. Gospel takes time and effort to interpret -- that's another thing I do, I read gospel and translate it, even though no one's ever going to read it. It helps when I get tired of pricking my fingers." Again, she stops, touching her purple lips to her missing hand.

Another nod, this one directed at Karkat.

"I'm fine. It's been with me most of my life. Xia knows what to do." With that, the Indigoblood gets to her feet.

She's unsteady in her searches, but then comes upon a huge tome, which she takes to a back section of the caravan, and flips through.
"I hope it doesnt get to her," this said after a short interlude, under the scrape of paper against paper, "she deserves better."

 

*

 

Is Karkat creeped out? Only a little bit, when Zhen laughs like she's both younger and older than her body shows. Karkat can't tell if she's answering him or answering questions that aren't being asked.

He can only really sit, still somewhat flabbergasted as Zhen goes around looking through the caravan, having success when she finally finds what she's after-- an old tome, almost similar but not quite with the book Gamzee has with him (Karkat should read that, but he's sort of stalling).

Unsure if there's anything to be done while Zhen is like this, Karkat wouldn't know. Zhen even said it herself, that Xia knows what to do, but not without some parting cryptic words.

Notes:

I know I've told you I love your OCs, but I seriously really love them. I remember you told me you based them off of characters from your own original work too. I love more when after this chat how we incorporated your OCs into the other plots, and Xia and Zhen were allowed more room to breathe.

I hope you're alright. I'd like to speak with you again, soon.

To you, and everyone else: Please be safe and well.

Chapter 18: To Endure

Notes:

At this bit, i was worried you were gonna kill off your ocs that you threw into the mix and I'd already become attached, and jokes aside I really did feel bad for our fictional characters. Thankfully, this was not the worst of it, as you would later prove to me, lmao, that it could be a lot worse

The caravan bumps along unused roads, Xia passing a few directions behind her as she re-enters the back.
With Zhen nodding along to the rhythm of their drive, she already knows it'll be a night -- but maybe one of her better nights. She was coherent for longer than she'd ever been with the adults.

Her attention turns to Karkat -- and to the dress beside him.

"O-oh, where'd you find that?" She seems wrong-footed but tries to hide it, brushing off the hem of her shift as if it were anything better than the discarded dress.

"Did Zhen show that to you? I forgot it was here. I figured the adults would've sold it or tossed it out the back of the caravan -- anyway," she gestures away the idea, sitting across from Karkat, "we should be in the right area soon. I hope you won't take it wrongly when she's... brash." That seems to be the kindest way to put it.

"She won't care about your blood, or your mate's blood. It's just how she is. Although, she might have a small grudge against Goldbloods -- she says she doesn't, but I've known her for a long time." They lurch with the path, uneven and untended as it is.

Xia could see this making her want to puke if she's carrying late.
"How are you doing?" She tries to turn the conversation onto Karkat, wondering how the rough path is on him.

 

*

 

Zhen reads, Karkat presuming the tome to be scripture, feeling a touch of pity and betting she'd probably like to be in control of her own head more often than not.

 

The caravan gradually rolls over uneven ground, either rough road or unused paths that rarely see travel, making the whole thing shake and bump. Xia re-enters from the front to have a look of shock come over her, Karkat guessing from seeing her dress. "Yeah, she did..," he gives a glance her way, scripture still open but he's not sure if she's still reading or quietly looking over the page.

"Zhen said she made it for you, and that she made hers. They're beautiful. I was telling her how much my Jade would envy her for being able to make this style. She offered to make me one, but..."
Karkat fidgets in his seat, unsure of what to do. Ultimately deciding to go with the turn of the conversation, "I'm alright. I'm thinking of organizing what I can of the caravan for now-- did you know the seats lift? This is definitely a merchant's car. I bet there's more hidden spaces if we look, and if we're lucky, they're not emptied of stuff we can use."

He perks up at the thought of it, finding some leftover things that will prove useful or just cool just because.

Musing in his head, Karkat turns the conversation back, "How about you? Are you alright? You're looking a little sick..," he gestures to the dress, carefully rubbing a finger over the embroidered edges, "..you wanna change? To this? I bet you looked really pretty in it."

 

*

 

Xia clasps her hands together, fidgeting.

“That might be nice. It’s not like she’ll be around forever to clothe me. I should take advantage of it while I can, shouldn’t I?” During a lull in the caravan, she gets up, taking the dress over to her.
The fabric is thick and sturdy, the back ribbon and embroidery bleached from jade-green to lime.
“She offered to make you something?” Her fingers loosen the ribbon at the back, and then she squirms from her shift.

Pulling the dress over her head, the Limeblood slinks into the fabric; it hugs her body more and more as she habitually tightens the back, lacing herself from the high collar down to the small of her back.
On her figure, the front hem reaches her knees, while the back hem is longer, brushing partway down her calves. The slits ride dangerously high, complementing her lopsided haircut.

Maybe she prefers to style her hair like this.

 

Xia briefly cups her chest, but the dress mainly brings out her nipped waist and wide breeder hips.
With a quick brush-down, she sneaks over to the seated compartments, popping open a few.

“She can make a lot of things. Of course, she won’t make something that isn’t aesthetically pleasing to her.” A pair of thin, plain black panties are found and quickly stepped into; both for modesty and to help keep her scent to herself.

“Clothing, and fashion, are her secret passions. Not a very Purpleblooded thing, is it? At the very least,” Xia further finds a small jar of lip tint, and rubs some bleached jade onto her lips, “not a very stereotypical thing.” She rubs her lips together, tossing the jar back into its place.
“It’s something to do, I guess.” Now, she looks like someone’s mate.

Someone important.

 

“It’s double the work whenever she makes something for me. She’ll find jade thread, ribbon, fabric, and bleach it in the daylight. Olive comes out too dark.” She seats herself, crossing her legs.

“What would you like her to make? If you leave it up to her discretion, then you might get something nice. You might also find our tastes to be to... foreign.”

 

*

 

Karkat is quick to turn his head to offer Xia some decency as she shucks out of the ratty shift. When he glances back, she's already lacing the ribbon on the back, but wow; she looks more like someone to be taken seriously, more like someone to be listened to-- like she's someone's mate and she better be listened to.

The look is all the more amplified with the tinted gloss and Karkat could just about swear that Xia's a fatale from one of his books.

Unfortunately, Karkat is made extremely aware of the fact that his lower half is still wrapped in the towel, turning his own self around to go through his bag, gathering his leggings and underwear to dress in.
"Zhen could probably get along with Kanaya-- or not ," if not on friendly civil terms, then perhaps something more pitchy-civil, he feels anyway, "over clothes. She owns a shop in the village, and her fashions have been rising in popularity." Whether it was a typical pastime or not shouldn't matter, despite their spat over his Elder's identity, Karkat thinks she's pretty neat in her own right, especially with her skill.
Sun-bleaching Jade is pretty clever too, in order to get Xia's Lime.

"Should I leave it up to her?" Karkat hums. What would he even want? He imagines that whatever he has in his head won't look as good on him for real-- the imaginary Karkats in his head all have perfect legs, for one.

Perking up when Xia says their tastes might be foreign, "That's what the style reminds me of. Every other season, we get traders that visit our village all the way from the other continent, they're dressed in this style and usually visit Kanaya's shop to sell her their silks. She loves the style, but we could never afford a full set and piece, and she's tried to practice but it never looks right, never mind practicing with the silk, since she's afraid to waste it." It'd be great if he could wheedle permission from Gamzee to visit the sister village, if at least to have Kanaya meet Zhen.

 

*

 

"Why hasn't she gone over the ocean?" Xia asks, crossing her legs.
The motion kicks up a faint honey aroma -- possibly intended to please her mate.

"I mean, besides the obvious: seadwellers. They're not too much of a problem for Purplebloods and, unlike Bluebloods, Purplebloods are perfectly content to sit idle in some hull or other on the journey. Apparently, the ocean reminds a lot of them of their Lusii." She bobs her foot, chin in hand.

"Our old caravan took us a few times. I've gone once with the new one -- and we didn't sit under some fucking Blueblood's heel. We 'borrowed' a ship. It was... alright. The Purplebloods seemed to enjoy it much more than I did. I mostly stayed in the tent or caravan. Zhen could probably tell you more." Her gaze moves to the troll in question, both to see how she's doing, and to give Karkat his privacy.

In truth, everything made her feel irritated and stupid; she didn't speak the languages or understand half the customs, the foreign weather got under her skin, and she was gifted in Jade and Olive .

Usually, the gifters were punished, but Xia still ended up more or less a hermit by the end of the excursion.

 

"Your Jade should make something simple with the silk. What's the point in having it, otherwise? I know Zhen likes to keep silk for sashes -- cutting silk for ribbons is also useful. If there were any extra ties in the caravan, I'd do Zhen's hair for her." She turns back once Karkat's finished dressing.

"You can let her toss ideas at you until one sticks. With this dress, she'd originally only made the slit partway up my thigh, but she knows I like to be able to move my legs, so I had her extend the slit repeatedly until she was hissing, and I can run around freely." The last part is a tease, Xia chittering to herself.

 

When the caravan comes to a halt, and Gamzee peeks into the back, Xia takes it they're out of path to move through.
The Limeblood gets to her feet.

"I'll go find Polypa -- if she's here. Give me... until the moons reach their peak. If I'm not back by then, a beast probably ate me." She pats Zhen on the head on her way out, leaving Gamzee to slink beside Karkat.

"Or," he adds, just loud enough for his mate to hear, "she's busy with some illicit shit. Ain't my business. These woods don't seem to be all that beast-infested, though." The last thing he needs is his ancestor's mate dying under his watch.

"How you been with them two back here? Looking all pleased with yourself."

 

*

 

Karkat shakes his head, "Seadwellers are only part of the problem. I've never asked her directly, but...there was some gossip a few sweeps back between some of the older adults. It was brought it up in passing. It's not a thought I particularly enjoy, and it might not even be true..," lips pursing, Karkat still doesn't feel right saying it out loud, squinting and sucking his cheek between his teeth, leaning toward Xia like there were other ears who'd spread the news if they heard, "...I overheard them talking about how Kanaya escaped from a slave ship. Must have been when she was really young too, because my earliest memory of her is a good while before she pupated."

He didn't pry, when he heard, chalking it up to simple-minded gossipmonger talk. But even when Vriska had first gotten ahold of her ship and tried to wheedle Kanaya into going, she wouldn't budge.

He shakes his head again, "Well, I haven't asked her straight up, so it's probably not true anyway, but that's certainly one reason to stay away from the ocean." Karkat gives a dry chuckle, "If I knew Zhen could work with silks then I'd have whined for a bolt of it."

 

The caravan stops, Gamzee poking his head through the front and cueing Xia to stand. Karkat's brow creases in worry as she hops out, then rise in a short scowling pout at Gamzee for saying what he says. "Don't be like that. I'm more worried about her going alone," his features soften back to thoughtful concern, though, Xia's got plenty of merits and grit to say that she can handle herself alone if she needed to.

"We're getting on pretty well, despite earlier. I'm a bit late on finding out how well Zhen would maybe get along with Kanaya, at the very least over clothes and making them," he says, then giving Gamzee a bright smile, "She said she'd make something for me, but I'm worried about her trying to, with what those adults did to her hand...," the smile isn't as bright but there wasn't much to be done about Zhen's hand, much like her think pan (aren't there herbs and medicines for panrot? If not to cure then to at least prolong being clear-minded? Karkat should probably look into finding those, at least while Zhen and Xia were traveling with them).

 

*

 

"Motherfuckers can sew one-handed. Takes longer, but so does all things when a Sister only got herself that one hand, and half a pan." He jests, not quite able to reconcile his image of Kanaya -- any image of Kanaya -- with someone like Zhen, who's since laid on her side and drifted to sleep.

 

It doesn't take very long for Xia to return to the caravan, halfway tossed into the back with a squawk.

"I'm taller than you!" She turns, watching a short yet dense Oliveblooded female climb into the back of the caravan.

"Most trolls are taller than me." The Oliveblood replies, sharp gaze scanning each corner of the caravan.
"I was hoping you were lying about the clowns." Her eyes thin, and Xia shrugs.

"Which ones? The ones that kidnapped me? Or the one that saved me?" She teases, throwing Polypa's dry attitude right back in her face.

"Preferrably all of them." Polypa retorts, getting comfortable atop a bench.
Xia crosses her arms, watching her former palemate.

"That'd leave two breeders ripe for rape, enslavement, and death." She gets comfortable beside the Oliveblood, who takes a minute to size Karkat up with a rather blank expression.

Gamzee, knowing full well he's not wanted, leaves Karkat with a kiss to the cheek, and begins the arduous process of turning the caravan around.

 

A look passes between the Oliveblood and Limeblood, as if they both have things to say; they keep quiet until Xia nudges Polypa.

"Turn around. I know your hair's a mess. Your 'hive' was." With a put-upon sigh, the Oliveblood unclasps her hooded cloak, and drops her hood, allowing a mane of messy, unwashed hair to spill free.
Xia sets to work combing her fingers through the strands, much as she had for Karkat -- and, likely, for a lot of trolls, given that she doesn't have to pay much attention to the action.

"Just to be clear, Karkat," she starts, "this isn't pale. I do this for Zhen. I did it for you. I have a mate and I'm faithful to him." Polypa snorts at that, and earns herself a click from Xia.

 

*

 

Of course, Karkat is alert when Xia re-enters, watching the other troll follow in after her, curious but apprehensive.

They talk like they've known each other for a long while, talking back and forth obviously coming easy in a way that speaks without anything being said.

Gamzee, with his keenness on not wanting to deal with any heathens for a while, gives him a parting kiss on his cheek before getting out of dodge, gone back to the front to drive. As the Olive-- Polypa, he thinks Xia said?? --scans over the caravan, including Karkat with a look that says ' I can figure you out at a glance ', which he flatly returns, not about to be cowed by a new face.

Xia has Polypa turn around for her, fingering through a tangled mass of hair before throwing that at Karkat.

"I didn't say or even think anything," he blinks in full, genuine innocence. "I already said I'm not gonna question your fidelity, so that's that."

 

*

 

Xia wants to roll her eyes, but keeps her gaze down, her hands working.

"Words are meaningless. It's impossible to be too careful. Better to have my reasons and explanations in order than to blindly trust." She works in silence, picking matted knots from Polypa's mane until dawn comes, and Gamzee returns to the back of the caravan.

When they stop, rather than get to her feet and go wash up, Xia tries to lie down with Zhen.
Polypa has to physically escort her, dazed and blank-eyed, to the river.

Gamzee sighs.

"I'll carry Zhen, if she ain't been deceased. Xia don't look too good." He shrugs.

"Neither of 'em look too good. Maybe you wash further upstream from us so you keep yourself from all these unpleasantries. I'll drop off the lil' one and join you. A'ight?" He's already shaking Zhen, who blearily blinks herself awake.

It's too easy to hoist her up, dumb confusion aside, and deposit her outside the caravan.
Gamzee's noticeably more gentle with Karkat.

Then, he's picked up Zhen again, and leaves her on the grass near Polypa and Xia, before returning to Karkat.

"Oliveblood's gonna have to watch over the day, 'cause no other motherfucker knows how to get to the cloister. You good with that, Karkat?" He crouches down, and splashes some cool water onto his face, his paint dripping off.

 

*

 

Karkat makes a half-shrug gesture, more to himself than Xia; he gets that, though really, it's not like Karkat would have told on her like some mouthy wriggler.

Though with neither of them really paying attention to him, Karkat takes another look over. Polypa isn't built like an Oliveblood from the city or even from his village--and the ones from his village are pretty built --, just a head taller than himself but obviously compacted with earned muscle. Her legs are wrapped tight in bandages, but Karkat hasn't noticed a limp from her yet.

Xia works at the other's hair, picking apart mangled knots and combing fingers through. She's at it almost until dawn, where they've stopped by a river for the day, but Xia only tries to go lay by Zhen, looking quite unlike herself (as far as Karkat's gotten to know, anyway) as Karkat watches with worry when Polypa hauls her out to wash up in the river (..what happened, was she sick??).

Karkat's told to wash upstream, but even after Gamzee takes Zhen by the others, he's still concerned about them.

Gamzee returns, coming down next to him to wash his face. "That'd probably be good, to have someone on lookout..," he fidgets for a moment, shivering a little as he washes his own face, "...what's up with Xia? Is she sick?"

 

*

 

Gamzee holds his hair back with one hand, the other working in circles to remove his paint.

"Who knows?" He shrugs, shutting one eye as he cleans away the black greasepaint.

"Maybe it's 'cause she's carrying. Maybe it's 'cause she contracted something. Maybe she got a rotted pan and this how it starts." He works on the other eye, his forehead, before submerging his face in the stream.

He wonders if Polypa knows how to deal with pan rot.

 

Evidently, Gamzee doesn't -- once a troll fully succumbs, they're culled. That's all he knows, but bringing it up to Karkat would probably be as helpful as postulating that the Limeblood is dying.
He comes back up with a quiet breath.

"Maybe it's all finally hit her. I mean... she grew up with clowns. We don't normally keep motherfuckers of different castes with us. Got mated to The Grand Highblood. However the fuck she feels on it, she acts proper 'nough to keep her pan on her shoulders. Then, some adults steal her and mutilate her Sister. Ain't that some shit?" He thumbs the remaining residue off his face, a swirl of white dissipating down the river.

"Also, if she's to be believed, bitch lost a grub. Carried it and birthed it and all that shit, just for it to expire. Maybe she just tired." Gamzee leans back, water dripping down his features.

"I can get that. Some nights I wanna stay in my tent, or walk under the daylight with my face turned up to the Sun -- 'cause it's too much, and Messiahs know I been faithful. Messiahs know we all been faithful, but no one understands. Makes a motherfucker get their think on why they even trying, why they even still here, if blasphemers can get on with threats right to my face." He gets to his feet, the collar of his top damp.

"I try not to think on it. Brother Marvus says we'll get 'em all one fine night. One night, they'll all pay." For a moment, he looks through Karkat, wondering if his mate would have to pay in flesh.

 

Yes.

Not an unexpected conclusion, but he doesn't say anything about it. He might die before anything Marvus has ever told him comes to fruition -- Gamzee's almost certain he'll be dead before that happens.
He smiles, and offers Karkat a hand.

"Let's let 'em be. That Olive can't take both, and probably don't wanna take both. 'Sides, ain't difficult to gut a rowdy lowblood like that, even if they got all types of musculature on 'em."

 

*

 

Karkat listens quietly. Everything Gamzee says brings a tangent of thought to be pondered over, only momentarily spread out before a new one replaces it.

He'd hate to think that Xia's pan is rotting, hopes that it's a matter of her being tired. That, Karkat can understand, even if not with the same experiences. That in particular he knows, being tired of trying and trying and still not getting what or where you want to be. As Gamzee says, simply not wanting to move, or just wanting to go altogether remembers back when he thought Kanaya had been dead, how he took everything, every slap and strike and kick, what he believed to be hateful eyes on his back, took being dragged back along the road because he was tired ; had been considering dying himself because he was tired, had given up trying to convince Gamzee not to go. Remembers at Ampora's city, Gamzee had been literally ready to go and die -- and did go --, simply by knowing he was going somewhere he knew he wouldn't be received well and simply not caring; because he was tired, said his Messiahs would welcome him with open arms.

 

What Xia's been through is just *too much*, that she'd held on until now that she's started to break down.....

 

For a moment, only a moment, Gamzee gets that thoughtful, almost pensive look Karkat's known him to get; the one where Karkat's guessed him to have thought of something either dirty or bad, or just both. But it's only a moment, and to his internal relief, the look eventually goes, replaced a smile and a hand that Karkat takes.

Still, he doesn't worry about Xia any less (even Karkat who isn't as talented as the Limeblood should be able to do something that helps her, even a little bit).

 

*

 

Gamzee pulls Karkat to his feet, and takes his mate back to their caravan.

Given that they have a guest, he remains clothed, but still builds a small, comfortable pile, and pulls Karkat close.
It takes a while longer before the others return, Xia first being lifted into the caravan, followed by Zhen, and then the Oliveblood.

Polypa helps Xia change before encouraging both trolls to sleep.

 

*

 

Once back in the caravan, Gamzee makes up a pile to pull Karkat into. There's no trace of that look, whatever Gamzee had been thinking about, Karkat's giving it the benefit of the doubt that it was plain gutter-thought and leaves it be; he can pry when they don't have guests, if they ever get to that point any time soon.

This time there's no piling pale-red fondling shenanigans, at least not yet but he almost doesn't trust that to be for long, and Karkat can be grateful that they have a guest (three, but he supposes it's different too if there's someone who just doesn't mix with their caravans), have a reason to stay clothed and not reek up the caravan with the sugar-scent of breeder getting his pan fucked out-- can't anyway, he's a little sore for it and he's sure that his mate is too. They can just relax, as much as possible anyway, for the day; be better for Gamzee to heal, too.

 

Karkat turns in the pile to face Gamzee, trying to ignore how close their faces are how silly that it still makes his cheeks dust red, even though they've already gone far beyond that, "..Didja know the seats open up? Aside from Xia and Zhen's stuff that's in there, I kinda wanna take a full inventory of everything. Bet we can find some other useful stuff."

The rest of their temporary crew returns, Xia visibly tired as the sight of her moving somewhat listlessly makes Karkat want to go worry over her. Polypa helps both trolls up before getting Xia dressed, having her lie down. There's a slight softness to the Oliveblood, only when she's getting Xia down and barely when she carefully strokes her hair, taking care to avoid her spherical horns-- avoids anything that might be taken or looked at as too pale. Standing up and sighing just barely, before picking up a cloak to sit outside with, "I take it you want me on day watch, yeah?" She says though she's already moving to head out the front.

 

*

 

"I'll leave that to you." Gamzee's arms encircle Karkat's waist, holding the mutant close.

"Never been good with all what you speak on." He watches Polypa leave them, then settles back down.
At the very least, Xia and Zhen are quiet in their corner.

It doesn't take long for Gamzee to fall asleep, his face buried in Karkat's hair. He doesn't purr, but he's too tired to do much else. Running a caravan with fewer trolls than he's accustomed to, alongside a multitude of other stressors, has him beat.

 

*

 

Dreams come, but only barely, something to be vaguely remembered. The most memorable thing that stands out is someone humming the tune of an old, old song he didn't think he would remember from his childhood nevermind remember that he knows it in both Beforian and Alternian-- or that Karkat knew anything Beforian at all. Someone taught it to him, but this is all the dream and his subconscious is willing to dredge up for him in this dream.

 

By dusk Karkat is awake, his old habit of being an early riser coming back. Which is kind of bad timing, considering how he feels sleep trying to pull at the edges of his vision and he wants to follow it, at least until someone else wakes up.

 

The song he heard is still fresh in his mind, somehow.

 

That is the pattern they follow, for a couple of nights anyway, Polypa leaping back down from the top of the caravan to rest inside while everyone readies for the night, Gamzee going back out to drive.

Karkat does exactly as he wanted, rummaging through all the things in the caravan and taking stock of everything they have in a notebook from his bag, from food to medicine, the leftover clothes of the prior owners, and other various odds, ends and goods to be found in the seats-- as Karkat thought and to his immense delight, after some thorough sleuthing he'd found that there were in fact secret compartments hidden and built into the caravan.

In the floor a section of glued and lacquered wood lifts to reveal a trunkspace, sans a trunk, but probably big enough to put a troll or two, Karkat lowering himself into the space to see; the other section opens to the road beneath them, seeming like a quick escape route to get out of the caravan if needed. On either side toward the front, a piece of plank lifts to a space, big enough to hide something small and valuable-- only one of these actually has something, a crinkled, rolled up parchment that's seen better days, though because it's in tact it shows to be the deed to some piece of land; they could keep it, thought Karkat can't think of much for what, or they could trade it, probably to Vriska if he ever ran into her.

 

Karkat sits a whole night by Xia once, the Limeblood seeming lethargic, almost reluctant to eat. She still has her wits about her, but mostly just tells Karkat she's tired, or that the motion of the caravan makes her feel sick. Sometimes Zhen comes in sharp, but not for as long as Karkat would like, and the times Polypa shoos him away-- giving some effort to not be so brash with him --to take over, Karkat goes through the herbs and things they have, looking over the recipes Kanaya left him for reference. He has to be extra careful, if he tries to give Xia something, has to make sure none of the medicines or herbs are going to harm her and the grub she's carrying-- it's why he hasn't tried to give her anything yet.

It's the fourth dawn and they've settled close by a stream, Polypa going again to keep watch outside in the day once everyone is washed up. Karkat's taken over setting up the pile this time, since he returns early to the caravan-- not nesting, it's too soon for him to be doing that he's maybe probably nesting already but who knows, though by the time Gamzee comes back in from washing up he's still trying to get Xia and Zhen to take a drink from the waterskin, a bite of fried tuber.

 

*

 

Xia's not changed out of the shapeless shift, spending more and more of her time sleeping -- regardless of what Zhen does.

It's easy, after all, and doesn't require any undue effort on her part.
One night, after Polypa has left to keep watch, Xia turns her head away from Karkat's attempts to feed her. She brushes away the waterskin, and tries to shoo him.

"I feel nauseous." A lie, but Karkat can't prove anything -- and she's starting to hate this caravan more and more with each passing night.
Whenever she does drift into a stupor, it's actually relaxing.

Zhen never spoke of it as such -- she never spoke of it at all -- but the Limeblood just sits, allows herself to forget small pieces of her life. They don't matter, anyway. She's been tossed from troll-to-troll and it's nice to forget, sometimes.

Now, she's not forgetful, even if Zhen is -- and has been asleep for half the night.

 

Gamzee steps lightly, wondering if the small Indigoblood is dying. It looks like she is. Not that her breathing is laboured or that she's feverish, but that she's so still; like she's given up.
Saying as much would probably just distress Karkat, so he plants a hand on his mate's shoulder, instead.

"Leave 'em. Xia knows where we keep the food. Come sleep, you been ripping apart the whole-ass caravan. Must be a tired lil' motherfucker." Gently, Gamzee tries to urge Karkat toward the pile.

He doesn't allow himself to consider the connotations -- this foreign caravan isn't where he wants Karkat to set up a proper nest.

 

*

 

Karkat moves, but it's slowly and with great reluctance, dragging his feet. Letting Gamzee tug him away from the two toward the pile, though nothing really lessens the downcast expression on his face.

He's become attached, honestly, and really it's his own fault for becoming attached, but with the way he's been raised there's really no helping that.

 

For Zhen he can probably make something, something that would help, at least a little, but Xia is going to be trickier-- it's horrible, to be sick and carrying. Karkat knows from one of the older breeders who was sickly; half the medicines that would help them would have hurt their grub, so it was a long, draining term for them (but at least they lived with their grub, can't he help Xia like that?) --, if he can do anything for her at all. Laying down into the pile with his mate, Karkat wishes Kanaya could be here, she'd at least know the bare minimum of what to do versus his useless worrying and inability to do anything impactful, evident of how both trolls have no motivation to at least go through the motions.

 

He doesn't want them to die, or deteriorate for that matter; it will hurt if they do and Karkat doesn't even want to think about whatever repercussions there are for letting The Grand Highblood's mate die, and he's not even a clown.

 

"....I don't want them to die, y'know?" Karkat mumbles, hating the silence right now. Turning his body more toward Gamzee, making himself look away from Xia and Zhen. He isn't expecting for Gamzee to say anything that'd make him feel better, doesn't think that there is anyway; that and Gamzee, he's learned by now, isn't one to lie or mince up nice words, he says what is and how he thinks what is plain and straight (if anything, he withholds in place of lying).

 

*

 

“If The Mirthful Messiahs deign to take ‘em, there ain’t a thing we can do.” He lays a cold hand to Karkat’s cheek, gently stroking his smooth skin.

“You gotta come to terms with death, Karkat. It ain’t unusual for us to expire all sorts of ways; fast and slow, painless and painful. Y’know that. You knew it even in your village, what with all the blasphemous lies what get told on my caste.” Gently, he pats his mate’s cheek.

“We got life after death, anyway. Reward for our suffering. Reward that we don’t cover ourselves in jewels but keep the castes in check with blood and fear.”

It’s an unpleasant truth, but a truth nonetheless.

 

Zhen stirs for the first time in hours, only to settle back down with a groan, burying her unpainted face in her blanket.
Xia pulls in a dry, silent breath.

“I’ll worry about death when I visit The Dark Carnival in my sleep.” She murmurs, staring listlessly at the ceiling of the caravan.

“I just feel unwell. Let me.” She, too, turns on her side, toward Zhen.

 

Gamzee couldn’t be more glad they’ll reach the cloister tomorrow — even if he’s worried for the twins and Marvus. All of them, really.

He guides Karkat to rest against him, carding a hand through the mutant’s hair.

“Get yourself some sleep, Karkat. We’ll see everyone tomorrow.”

 

*

 

Karkat pushes his cheek to cool palm; as he thought, it's not really the words he wants to hear but there is some comfort in hearing them, at least that there is something waiting for them after death, at the very least , for Xia and Zhen, even Gamzee, who have been raised on teachings of the Mirthful. For Karkat, he's been taught that when one dies they ascend to the stars, which he counts among whatever great deities that may be out there; anyone who takes pity enough to listen. Whether they become stars or gain their tickets to their Dark Carnival, it's nice to think that dying is not the absolute end.

They must have been overheard, but the relief Karkat feels is heavy when Zhen and Xia stir more than a twitch of a limb, glancing back toward them.

 

Gamzee brings him closer for Karkat to burrow into, bidding him to rest, which after hearing Xia say more than three words comes a little easier than it has been. His mate's chilled touch and scent, being in such close proximity, these bring a sense of comfort that he's gotten used to, making it easier to fall asleep.

Again, his dreams are too vague to remember much except for that song, hearing it brings a feeling of....Karkat doesn't know, can't name it, only hums bits of tune in his sleep and short pieces without realizing while he's awake the next night.

Chapter 19: Endurance Repaid

Notes:

Back from the dead again, at least for now. I'm still trying to keep up, it just seems my own heart and body are trying to sabotage me. Maybe soon it'll stop, like soon it'll stop hurting that we can no longer speak like we were.

To the rest of you, please enjoy a mostly touching reunion, Gamzee being himself and Karkat finally knowing if the test is positive or negative (if you know what I mean).

Gamzee wakes before dawn and bides his time until he can safely start up the caravan.
They pass a familiar road, and come to the caverns; the cloister. He pulls over and feeds the beasts before climbing into the back.

Rather than take Karkat, Gamzee first grabs Xia, who half-heartedly kicks her legs and grumbles, weak on her feet. Then, he grabs Karkat, and, finally, takes Zhen — the smallest troll weakly gripping his sash.

 

The caverns are as he recalls, but they move slowly for the sake of the three trolls with him; eventually, Bronya is upon them, her eyes bright.

“Welcome!” Her hands are clasped, voice ringing out loud.

“I’m so glad you’re here! Not that I was questioning your return, but the adjustment period has been... an adjustment period.” If one looks closer, there’s an underlying stress to her.
A honk rings out, and a small troll clad in Jade robes stumbles into Bronya’s side.

It’s Karako, his face unpainted; he looks better, well-fed, than when they’d last met.

He lets out a greeting honk.
“Yes!” Bronya smiles, soft and nurturing, to Karako.

“You’ll be pleased to hear that

1. No major strife has occurred in your absence!
2. All cloister rules have been maintained and followed!
3. No Purples have suffered permanent injury or disability!

By the way,” at this, her voice falls, and she points to Xia and Zhen, “you appear to have a severely diseased Jadeblood with you.”

Xia’s brows furrow.

“Limeblood, and I’m not severely diseased. This is my blood colour.” She tugs on Zhen’s sleeve, earning a tired trill from the small Indigoblood.

“Zhen’s a Purpleblood suffering from degenerative pan rot. She’s seen better nights.” A hum of agreement from the Indigoblood, who can’t seem to stop looking around the caverns.

Bronya hums.

“Well, here, we prefer to strengthen our cloister by prioritising the weakest links! Lanque,” Gamzee’s features twitch at the mention of the name, “should help you find the rest of your group, while I bring your new companions to our nursery.”

Xia glances down to Karkat.

“Are there really Purplebloods staying here? Hard to believe.”

 

*

 

During the night, Karkat goes through the herbs again, picking apart ones that are good for afflictions of the head and mind, and then again for things that won't affect someone who's carrying, separating herbs that need to either be ground up or boiled, or both. Boiling them will have to wait until either day or until Karkat can start a fire, Gamzee stopping the caravan and a peek out to the front shows him taking care of the beasts they have.

 

He's nervous, in truth. To see the rest of their troupe, who Karkat was sure he was hated by the last time they saw of them. Gamzee may say that no one hates him, and everyone may hide it well enough to fool him, but Karkat knows on some level, he at least must not be liked very well. They've started in anyway, Polypa hovering at the entrance with an unsureness about setting foot in.

 

Karako's Jade--..Bronya, he thinks was her name?? --comes to greet them, and then Karako; Karkat doesn't look at him for more than a moment, eyes cast down or at some part of the cavern. The urge to apologize, at least say something, for hitting him and for thinking that Karako had taken those signsakes off of Kanaya. But, as Gamzee said, Karkat wouldn't have apologized when he thought Kanaya was dead, so there's no point in saying anything now. He's just going to have to accept that and leave it.

Bronya says it so matter-of-factly and quickly but Karkat perks and hears it, that no one was permanently injured or disabled-- the twins , does it mean the twins are alright??
He isn't surprised that Bronya thought Xia to be a Jade, sick or otherwise, Karkat had the same thought when he first saw her coloring, either a too-bright Olive or an off-hued Jade. It's nice to see Xia snap back sharply, for Karkat anyway, that she's still sharp in her mind.

Feels even better when Xia asks him about their troupe staying here, but not so much for his answer, "We left them here to recover and heal," is all he's willing to say; he'd already told her and Zhen that they left them behind because it was all his fault, but he doesn't want to get into a thing about it again.

 

*

 

“How kind.” Her words are dry as she takes Zhen’s hand, and follows Bronya deeper into the caverns.

 

When Lanque arrives — a rare male Jadeblood — he’s all grace, poise, meticulous in his grooming habits.

“Welcome back, Gamzee.” Even his tone is smooth, ignoring Karkat in favour of focussing on the Indigoblood.

“Couldn’t stay away for long?” Lanque teases, to which Gamzee gives a silent hiss.
As if this were expected, Lanque chuckles deeply, tongue tracing his upper lip.

“Bronya told me to help you collect all of your clowns. Let’s make haste. You must want to drive your bulge into that fat little mate of yours.” He clasps his hands and turns, hips swaying.

Unlike most trolls, he seems to have a very clear disdain for Karkat.

 

Gamzee glowers, wrapping an arm around Karkat, pulling the mutant to his side as he follows a distance behind Lanque.
“Did I upset you?” He calls over his shoulder, an impeccably plucked eyebrow raised.

“I’m just saying that, if it weren’t for that stench wafting off that troll, he’d be nothing more than a blood bank for you. Soft, pathetic, weak. Cullbait. They only live because of their stench — and I heard you brought in another. Poor taste.” With a sharp turn, they’re descending deeper into the caverns.

“Then again, you’ve never so much as had a palemate, so I can’t blame your lack of taste.”

 

*

 

Xia and Zhen follow after Bronya, Karkat hoping that whatever she can do for them helps.

 

Lanque, however, is quite the meeting; Karkat hates him three words in, doesn't miss at all how he's ignored by the Jade (he's never met a male Jadeblood, or even seen any for that matter, but he supposes there must be a reason they're so rare, case and point).

He's used to other's disdain for his blood; he's even used to all the bullshit remarks Ampora's made about him being 'his' breeder, but never outright for being a breeder-- and Karkat has that same irritation welling up, like when Xia was washing Gamzee's hair, but that...she didn't mean anything by it and Karkat knows that; Lanque gives off the feeling that he has every intention of getting into his mate's pants and that alone makes Karkat s e e t h e .

Of course, Karkat bristles, incredulous, even more at his being called 'fat '-- Karkat is pleasantly plump and pudgy , thanks ever so fucking much, and there's nothing wrong with that he's in shape; last time he checked round was still a shape!. The fucking nerve , and again basically flirting with Gamzee right in front of him!

 

Karkat doesn't let his anger flare up like he normally does-- oh but does he want to, making warning clicks in his throat alongside Gamzee's hissing. Just like the only way to beat a swindler proper is to swindle them back, the only way to beat a bitch is to be an even bigger one back.

"Oh," Karkat remains placid, eyes narrowed in indifferent disdain to match Lanque's tone; utterly innocent of anything whatsoever. "I'm so surprised he can still smell me past the slurry-stink he came with-- the Matron didn't smell like that ." He doesn't say it loud or quiet, just enough like he's only talking to Gamzee but he knows the Jade overhears.

Lanque is a beautiful troll, Karkat will admit that-- the kind that's vain as fuck about it and vanity is so easy to attack.

"Gamzee," Karkat is all pretty, long-lashed eyes and slightly pouted lips, innocence all for the sake of a verbal jab, "You're not into sticks and bones, are you?" If Karkat's going to have his body made fun of then he's going to give it back some at least. "That must hurt. I can't imagine anyone wanting their bits near that." If he's heard at all, Karkat merely pushes into Gamzee's side, a silent hit that Gamzee was his and he'll flaunt it if he has to.

 

*

 

"Bronya? A Matron? That's hilarious." Disdain seeps into his voice for the cloister leader, and he takes each of Karkat's hits in stride; like he's heard it all and worse.

"And," he adds, flashing a sultry smile over his shoulder, "who said I'm sticks and bones ? You can't see anything of me under these hideous robes. Don't assume."

 

Secretly -- though he'd never admit it -- Gamzee finds Karkat's jealousy nice. Validating. That he's not so concerned with his old village and some stupid Jadeblood that nearly got two of their youngest killed.

"You rely on biological imperatives, and there's nothing wrong with that, but I doubt you're capable of emotionally and physically satisfying Gamzee." Lanque walks light as air.

"He doesn't look satisfied -- and, why did you all come here again? Oh, yes, a bad Jade . That's what the twins tell me, anyway, and I know clowns aren't fond of lying. Not to mention, you don't have a bulge." As he says this, they emerge into a large, vacuous cavern.

 

In the distance, Chahut leers over the shoulder of a younger Jade who, despite her rebellious showing of skin, looks about ready to flee into the night.

"Daraya," Lanque calls, "we've got visitors. Where the fuck is Lynera?"

Daraya would jump about a foot in the air if Chahut didn't place a calming hand on her shoulder, steering the Jadeblood to Lanque by the small of her back.

The Indigoblood hunches over to speak to Daraya, looking healthier than ever before; her long hair is thick and shiny, her complexion flawless; most importantly, her arm has healed.

The younger Jadeblood, on the other hand, looks like she's trying her very best to act very cool with the fact that Chahut's so close. Whether it's fear, arousal, or a mixture of both, her dark make-up serves to hide it well.

"That cunt? She's trying to schoolfeed Wanshi and one of the twins. The one who can see. Fuck, they creep me out." Her arms cross, although there's a marked lack of pure animosity between the two Jades.

"Why?" She manages a smile.

"The Purple Bard and his mate come to collect their cullbait?"

 

Slowly, Chahut pokes a very sharp nail into the back of Daraya's neck, causing the Jade to bristle as much as is possible.

"If I'm cullbait... what does that make you and your lot, Little Jade?" Chahut chuckles, gaze roaming over Karkat and Gamzee -- and, briefly, Lanque.

"Pleased to be laying my oculars upon the both of you... Prayed for least trouble to come to you."

 

*

 

"Obviously he doesn't want you for a reason. Even if I had one I bet it'd recoil ," but his mood has soured up completely, even beyond being nervous about seeing the rest of their party, that Lanque's not as devasted to be on the end of Karkat's sharp tongue as he hoped, muttering a long line of other insults and criticisms under his breath. Outright snarling when he dares to talk about Kanaya like he even knew what happened.

Yeah, alright, he'll see how long he can run his mouth without Karkat decking him one good on that pretty, poised face of his.

 

They meet Chahut first, and her built-up frame is a welcome, relieving sight. She looks much better than when they left her, arm healed up and skin healthy-- everything about her screams healthy, right up to her horns and hair; if she harbors any ill-feeling toward Karkat, she doesn't show it.

Karkat's heart drops, his entire body stiffens-- that Jade, Daraya, says the one who can see.

 

One of them can't see.

 

Was it Barzum? Was Barzum blind?

No, NoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNo--

He barely hears anything after that. He needs to go outside-- no, he needs to see the twins first, then.....

 

*

 

"Wow," Daraya's voice drips with apathetic malice, "is the breeder losing it right now? Over some clowns?" Her hands rest on her hips, an unimpressed gaze levelled to Karkat.

"Isn't it his fault, anyway? It was his former clademate, right? So much for accountability. Guess the outside's as fucked up as I've been told." She shrugs, shrinking under the claw beginning to work its way under her skin.

Lanque, however, could care less.

 

"Barzum could see when we brought her here." Gamzee says, stroking along the dip of Karkat's waist.

"Oh," Lanque sighs, "well, she's recovering. You can't expect to expose yourself to daylight and be fine after a few nights. If you want details, you'll have to go to Bronya. She's the one taking care of all those sick grubs up in the nursery -- she's extremely protective over them. I'd be very careful." The warning serves Karkat more than it does Gamzee.

"Where's Baizli, then? The other pupa?" He presses, and Daraya sighs.

"I don't fucking know," she slinks from beneath Chahut's nail, only to be enclosed by a heavy, muscular arm, "do I look like that ignorant bitch's keeper? If she's half-decent at her job, which she's not, then they'll be schoolfeeding." Her voice registers higher, her scalp prickling.

Lanque flicks his jaw, righting his fringe, and sharply gestures for Gamzee to follow.

The Indigoblood urges Karkat along, and Chahut gives Daraya a less-than-gentle pat to the cheek.

"Be seein' you, Little Jade." She hums, following behind Gamzee and his mate.

 

Like most blocks, the place Lanque escorts them to is, essentially, a modified hole in the wall.

There are only three trolls in the block; Lynera, Wanshi, and Baizli.

 

*

 

Karkat would like nothing more than to take something sharp and stick, st i ck , s ̷t̨ ̧i c̛ ̷k̡ it through her throat until she can't talk bullshit anymore; if one doesn't know shit about something then they shouldn't spew shit from their mouth. He could do the same to Lanque's face and he still wouldn't feel better.

He can feel his skin burn, words piercing into him. Of course, because they're true, it is his fault. Everything starts to feel too hot and there's a lump in his throat--

. . . . . .

Why?

Why should he feel hurt, just because what she says is true?

He has no connection to Daraya, or Lanque for that matter, and he doesn't want one, not with these cloistered Jades who don't have a damn idea.

They don't matter to him. They mean nothing to him.

 

When Karkat looks back up, it's with an unsettlingly neutral expression, the corners of his lips twitching up. As they're led away by one asshole, Karkat flicks his eyes up to lock with Daraya's, just for a moment, before they're on their way, talking more to himself than anything but not caring if he's heard, "Her mouth opens a lot. A lot of things must find their way in there." After all, when someone talks shit so much it attracts dungflies.

If she hears, Karkat doesn't know or care, they're already coming upon another half-carved out block. If he's still anxious, it's only for the twins.

 

Another Jade is in the room, with a green-cheeked pupa and--

His heart lurches, and Karkat nearly with it toward Baizli, taking a step before stopping himself-- and it is Baizli, Karkat's sure, his brows have that sharper arch. At the sight of him his expression changes, a majority of concern, a touch of joy, with a smear of troubled need-- he has no business or right to just go run up to the wriggler after the mess and hurt he caused.

 

*

 

"Oh my gosh, Lynera," Daraya saunters into the room, interrupting whatever she'd been animatedly trying to teach to the two smaller trolls, "we found someone you'll actually get along with! He hurls the same boring insults as you." She sneers.

The two trolls -- wriggler and pupa respectively -- try to flee, but Lynera manages to grab Wanshi around the waist, and Gamzee grabs Baizli by the arm.

"I'm trying to teach here!" Lynera looks like she's constantly on her last thread of sanity, Wanshi playing innocent in her arms.

"One less pupil, then. The clowns are leaving." A chubby hand steals her red-rimmed glasses and she hisses, snatching and putting them back on her face.

The second troll to pick her up isn't so easy to let her go, Chahut hoisting her up under her arm.

"Schoolfeeding, blasphemous as it is, is a gift... I'd receive the gift gratefully." She murmurs to Wanshi, returning the youngest Jade back to her seat.

"Nearly lost somethin'... Little Jade, why don't you go tend the caverns? Must be an awful many accidents waiting to happen..." Chahut chuckles, lumbering out of the block.

 

Lynera looks about as frazzled and puffed-up as she can get, blinking at the collection of trolls.

"Oh." She's nothing if not honest, a look of displeasure crossing her features.

"Make sure to visit soon! The twins are so behind on their schoolfeeding! Karako, too! It's unacceptable!" With that, she returns to her book, glaring at Wanshi until she stops fidgeting.

In his grip, Baizli feels like he's put on some healthy weight. His cheeks even have a bit of pupa-fat to them, although he's drowning in the robes supplied to him.

 

"Now," Lanque turns, gesturing to be followed, leaving Daraya to scamper back to the larger cave, "I'm not sure, exactly, where Kurloz is. Ever. Besides, he doesn't have the same allure as you do, Gamzee. By that, I mean he'll probably rip my head off if I get too close to him. Marvus likes to do as he pleases, but, once your whole troupe  is together again, you can all wait for him in the dormitory block."

While Lanque talks, Baizli sneaks to Karkat's side, tugging on the mutant's tunic.

"You look sick." He says, voice low to keep Lanque from noticing him -- although he wouldn't care if he did. Half the time, Lanque plays with him, Wanshi, and Barzum.

"You should stay here! They have sopor, medicine, and lots of food! We don't even have to stay inside the caverns, since we're not cloistered!"

 

*

 

He doesn't even deign to look or scowl at Daraya, wordlessly and discreetly making a rude gesture in her general direction.

This Jade, Lynera, looks every bit of a schoolfeedmarm, especially with the glasses. Especially with both pupae sat in front of her, at least until they try to book it and scatter; neither succeed. The Jade wriggler is first caught by her teacher, then again by Chahut and returned to her seat.

Baizli also has that healthiness and Karkat could cry for how well he looks, being cared for-- nevermind that he almost does, tearing up once Baizli escapes Gamzee's grip to come over to his side, little hands on his tunic.

First words he says to him is to say that Karkat looks sick, as if there wasn't anything else he had to say (Karkat was so sure they'd resent him that he wasn't prepared for anything else), nothing harsh or any suggestion that he also placed fault in Karkat; at least, if Baizli did, he's also good at hiding it.

 

Karkat tries to manage a smile and shakes his head, "I'm not sick," the words seem to try and stay stuck in his throat, as well as anything else Karkat wants to say or ask. His fingers graze where Baizli grips into his shirt, but barely, almost afraid to touch him.

 

*

 

"Well, you look sick. Gamzee, too." His hand remains firmly clutching Karkat's tunic and, with the other, he holds onto the loose fabric of Gamzee's pants.

 

They find Kurloz in a spare block, and the dress -- Karkat's dress -- has nearly been picked clean of jewels and gems, each separated into pouches. Gamzee clicks at him.

Unlike the others, he doesn't have any particular look of health to him; he wasn't injured to begin with, but his general demeanour continues to remain the same.

"Welcome back, Brother." His hoarse voice scratches the cavern walls as it travels.

Gamzee clicks again in affirmation.

"Take us to the nursery. We'll find Marvus after that." He demands this of Lanque, who looks him up and down before grinning and shrugging -- as if he'd do it for Gamzee and no one else.

 

The Highbloods follow Lanque up and up, coming to the nursery -- where Lanque makes himself scarce.

Although Gamzee trills questioningly, Baizli's the one to call out.

"Barzum!"

"Baizli!"

The twins giggle, followed by a heaving sigh, and a head poking out into the hall.
Bronya's expression is stern, but not disdainful.

"Please keep it down. We like to give everyone a warm, Jadeblooded welcome, but the nursery is for healing -- and entirely legal under The Empress' decree." Her green lips upturn into a small smile.

"Could my mate and I come in?" Gamzee asks, arm still wrapped around Karkat's waist.

"We'd like to see Barzum, and the other two we left with you -- and you gotta punish Lanque and Daraya. I didn't do or say nothing, but they was awful harsh on my mate. 'Specially Lanque." He scoffs, "only good Jades're you and Lynera, sister."

Bronya strokes a strand of green in her hair, contemplating.

"Alright -- but be quiet, and watch where you step. I try to keep the grubs in their 'coons, but some of the sicker ones spasm and fall onto the floor. I'd rather not have to clean up grub-innards." She sweeps back into the room, where Barzum chirps a greeting to her twin, and hears the chirp returned.

 

*

 

That Baizli isn't letting go, Karkat has a hope he knows he shouldn't have, but he does anyway. A small hand stays tight in his tunic and the other attaches to Gamzee, Baizli walking between them. It could be picturesque, the sight of them, even more with both twins.

 

They get to Kurloz next, Karkat shocked to see that dress, a little more that it's basically clear of gems aside from some parts, a few pouches around him that seem to separate what type of jewel. His mouth sort of hangs open (when did the dress even make it into the cavern?? Then again Karkat wasn't paying much attention at that time) at the sight, though only until Gamzee clicks and Karkat resorts to just blink.

 

Lanque leads them through to the nursery, Karkat's nerves rising again to see Barzum, unable to not think about her state, how could he? She's in the nursery for a reason while Baizli is out and around.

The asshole seem to disappear as soon as they get there, which doesn't matter anymore as Baizli calls for his sister, getting an immediate response that flips his heart around.

It's Bronya who peers out to chide and welcome them in the same breath-- though he doesn't know what to say about her adding how 'legal' her setup is. Getting permission goes smoothly but Karkat realizes too late that Gamzee hadn't said anything while he was getting bashed-- which was smart of him in the end because he's telling on Lanque and Daraya, basically. Karkat probably should have held his own tongue, silently berating himself for wanting immediate retribution, reacting the way he did probably only egged them on to rag on him more. He doesn't try to say Kanaya's good too, because that only applies to Karkat, and he knows Gamzee feels an awful way about her still-- evidently so does everyone else.

He's careful of grubs, though none have yet to fall out of their coons, as they follow Bronya in, Baizli chirping back to Barzum. Karkat is anxious to see her, to see what's happened to her eyes, if it's healed at all-- if Barzum can see.

 

*

 

Grubs of all shades, though overwhelmingly low- and mid-blooded, crowd the nursery.

Zhen's garments have been neatly folded atop a stool, alongside Xia's shift; the small Indigoblood has been fully submerged into a vat of sopor, while Xia dozes languidly in another, her eyes barely open.
Barzum is in a shallow pool of sopor, laid out on her back; a strip of cloth soaked in sopor covers both her eyes. Her skin is still peeling, sopor smeared on her face. She's been recently turned onto her back, allowing her to sit up -- even if Bronya tries to gently push her down.

Unlike her twin, she lacks the same addition of pupa-fat -- in fact, she looks a bit thinner. It's difficult to eat when, for a while, she was either pained or resting in sopor.
After giving up on pushing the pupa back down into the shallow slime, Bronya sighs, and unties the soaked length of fabric from her face.

"You should be going... home." The Jadeblood sets another fresh strip of cloth to soak in sopor.

"I don't necessarily think you're quite ready, given how much you still need to heal, but let's check your eyes in the meantime. Karako!" A honk, and the small troll moves to the far end of the room.

Barzum opens her eyes slowly. The orbs aren't red -- which means they're not dead -- but her pupils are too-wide, threatening to water if she doesn't blink often enough.

"I don't wanna do the test!" She huffs, flopping back into the sopor.

"Put the bandages back on! I wanna see everyone again!" She pats her feet into the sopor, dragging Xia's lazy gaze over to her.

"You'll see them soon enough." Bronya crouches down beside the recuperacoon, gesturing to the pad of paper which Karako holds up.

 

Large shapes have been drawn onto the parchment in a random order, mixed in with signs.

"What's the shape at the very top?" Bronya asks, to which Barzum stares at the paper until her eyes threaten to water.

"Square."

"Very good! Now -- " And they continue this, Bronya asking for random shapes and signs -- either of the other cloistered Jades or of the Purplebloods -- and then waiting patiently while Barzum tries for the correct answer.

She mixes up Chahut and Karako's sign but, otherwise, gets most of the answers correct.
Bronya clasps her hands.

"Wonderful! Her oculars are improving nightly! As you can see, I'd recommend she continue her stay with us -- her carapace still hasn't fully shed, and her ocular globes will take time to heal. Pupae are resilient, but quality care speeds up the process!" Her green gaze lands expectantly on Gamzee and Karkat.

"Y'sound like you're tryin' t' pitch 'em a sale." Xia lifts her chin enough to mumble this, and Bronya's attention moves to the breeder.
Gamzee takes the time to gently nudge Karkat.

"What you wanna do? Ain't so sure she can tell who you is, exactly. From this far, anyway."

 

*

 

It's plainly simple to tell them apart now, and Karkat wishes it weren't.

His eyes are on Barzum, first and foremost. From the soaked cloth wrapped over her eyes to her frail body smeared and laid in shallow sopor-- she's thin, the grub-fat she had from before barely clinging to her features. Karkat almost can't breathe at the sight of her, pieces of skin still peeling, somewhat held together by sopor. If it wasn't for Karkat holding himself in and Baizli still holding on to his shirt, he might have ran right up to the coon, or maybe even just collapse right there.

Xia and Zhen are sitting in sopor-coons too, as are all of the grubs in the nursery, Zhen wholly submerged and Xia....was that safe, for her to sit in there? Karkat's village may have been too poor and unimportant to the Empress to have sopor sent out, but they still had enough for medical use-- but never for sleeping. Smearing it all over the body, sure, that was fine and helped speed up healing, but not for sleep; they didn't sleep in it for a reason.

 

Bronya relents on having her lie back into the sopor, taking the bandage off from Barzum's eyes. At the very least, and Karkat could thank Gamzee's Messiahs, her eyes aren't burnt red, aren't completely cut off from seeing-- that there's a chance of her healing and being, at least, physically alright. The pupils stay expanded over most of the iris and her eyes even look dry, making her need to continue blinking. After a quick check over, Bronya calls for Karako, having Barzum test her sight; she still can't see things farther than a certain distance, Gamzee saying as much after Bronya gives them her thoughts-- Xia throwing out her thoughts, and while Karkat agrees he has to consider Barzum.

He looks up to Gamzee, trying for his eyes not to be so glossy, "....I..at least Barzum should stay, yeah? I want her to heal...," what he wants to do is the same thing he wants to do with Baizli, check over every part that had been hurt, is hurt, hold them and put medicines on them promise that they're never going to get hurt because of him ever again. "...If we can't all stay, at least Barzum and Baizli should..," even if staying meant dealing with unsavory people, Karkat would, just to be close.

 

*

 

“Bronya,” the Jadeblood perks up, “mind if we stay for a few nights? Least ‘til Barzum quits all her peeling?”

She nods.

“Of course! You’ve all done such a good job looking after my — after Karako that it’d be rude of us to turn you away!” Her eyes light up.

“Karako still needs his lessons from Lynera — and you two look like you could use some rest.” Her hips sway as she approaches the two, Baizli darting off to lean over the side of his sister’s cocoon.

“This is your mate?” Subtly, Bronya tilts her head toward Karkat.

“Yeah — why?” Gamzee asks, pulling Karkat closer.

“Are you aware if your mate is carrying? The Limeblood you brought in is carrying. The first perigee is very important. Many breeders lose their grub without ever knowing they’d carried. The Limeblood refused food and water until I submerged her in sopor.” Bronya blinks, waiting for a response — and it takes Gamzee a second before he gets what she’s asking.

He flushes, the colour visible even through his paint.

“Well, I don’t — that ain’t something I’d know too much on. We ain’t been mated very long.” He’s not going to tell Bronya he’d only recently mated with Karkat.

“Better off asking my mate — and keep Lanque in line ‘fore I rip a limb off the motherfucker. Ain’t got no interest in him.”

 

*

 

Karkat had been sure they'd already overstayed by leaving everyone here, Bronya allowing them to be here further is unreasonably kind, even if she says it's because Gamzee'd taken care of Karako. But he's not going to question it, all he really wants right now is for Barzum to heal and safely-- if that means here, then that's what it is.

He supposes he really does look sick, and Gamzee, Baizli first remarking it and now Bronya, that they needed rest.

 

The Matron Jade comes their way, Baizli releasing his grip on Karkat and Gamzee's clothes to see his sister. It takes Karkat a moment too, for her question to hit, though he only flushes when Gamzee throws him under the cart-- 'better off asking my mate' like Karkat wouldn't be just as embarrassed to answer, if Gamzee fidgets, Karkat does so right alongside him.

"W-W-Well, I don't-- I'm not sure, yet, if I'm carrying. I haven't..... checked ..myself....," how is he supposed to talk about this kind of thing with someone he doesn't know like that?? Karkat may stutter just as much with Kanaya, but she's....Kanaya, he can put that much more trust in her than Bronya, who Karkat is still unsure about. He's practcally fit to steam the nursery with how much his flush radiates off of him.

 

*

 

The Jadeblood hums, raising her brows.

“I can’t take care of you if you won’t tell me, and I’m not sure how else I could help you. If you are carrying, then a diet high in sugar will benefit both you and the grub — but we don’t have an unending supply of food high in sugar.” Her gaze flicks over to Xia, who may as well be in another room, or on another planet.

“Besides, I need to know whether I’m caring for two carrying breeders. It seems the Limeblood was deficient in sugars, leading to severe fatigue. The other Purpleblood...” Again, an obvious nervous tick, she worries her hair.

“When she returns to consciousness, I’ll purge her system of sopor, and attempt to administer some soothing remedies for pan rot. I hope you know the rot is not reversible.”

Gamzee shrugs.

“Try to keep ‘em alive. The Limeblood belongs to The Grand Highblood. The clown’s part of that group.”

Hearing this, Bronya nods stiffly.

“Of course! You’re all in good hands! I’ll be sure to find Lanque and Daraya, when I have a moment.” Naturally, the mention of Gamzee’s ancestor has her on her toes.

 

Hours later, Polypa finally slinking into the caverns, they’re all rounded up by Bronya and Lynera for dinner.

Unsurprisingly, Lynera earns all the ire; physically hauling uncooperative trolls into a large, fragrant room.

Marvus had gone off to the nearby city for trading, and Kurloz tosses a heavy bag of gems Bronya’s way; their payment for staying. Chahut’s never far from Daraya, always staring down her backside.

Baizli and Wanshi ran around, slowing down when Barzum was dried off and dressed; the sopor-soaked bandage still covers her eyes, but she evidently makes use of her brother to see.

Karako sticks by Bronya like a wriggler to its Lusus, helping Xia down into the consumption block.

Even Polypa shows up, side-eyeing Xia as she’s plopped down beside her.

Lanque takes the seat beside Gamzee, the Indigoblood opening his mouth in a silent hiss.

“Excuse me! He’s mated! You have no right to look at him like that!” Lynera says, a combination of offended and irritated.

“Like what? Like I’d love to know how tight his virgin nook is?” Lanque sneers, only to be roughly pulled by the ear by Bronya.

“We,” she begins, “are going to have a nice dinner with no talk of nooks, bulges, gashes, or any other synonyms. Un-der-stood?” She looks ready to pummel Lanque if he disobeys, so he rips himself out of her grip, pouting.

“All in good fun, you two.” He rolls his eyes, soothing over his ear.

Gamzee tries to squeeze himself right up against Karkat’s side, hand on the mutant’s plush thigh.

“He been doing this for sweeps. Don’t think on it. Never got nowhere with me.”

 

*

 

Karkat can only make a nervous nod; he knows at least that whatever amount of slurry that had made a firm bump at his middle is now fully gone, left his soft pudge behind, but it means that everything Gamzee put into him a few nights ago had been....absorbed. He'll have to hope that there's an empty block somewhere in the caverns where he can take a look and see for himself what's going on with him.
That aside, Xia needs more care than him, being that she knows for sure that she's carrying and , as Bronya said, she was deficient; Zhen would be asleep for a while longer, but Karkat makes a mental note to ask Bronya for those remedies, so at least he can make them himself when they leave.

Of course, upon hearing that the two are a part of The Grand Highblood's troupe, Bronya seems to take it even more seriously than she already was (must be nice to have ancestors, nevermind ones that are still alive and their title carries weight).

 

After a while they're all called for dinner-- if not coming when called then the Jade Lynera comes after the stragglers to drag them to the dining block, sans Marvus, who they've heard is at a nearby city for trade. Karkat's surprised to see Polypa, if only that she'd finally warmed up to coming further inside the caverns, sitting next to Xia. Ex-palemate or no, it takes some of his worry away that Xia has someone to watch out for her; even more relieving is seeing Barzum up and dressed, despite the sopor bandage over her eyes, going along with Baizli as her other vision and the Jade wriggler Wanshi; it's nice to see them play together.

It had started to look like a nice evening until Lanque sits his ass right next to Gamzee, his mate hissing and Karkat hackling. Lynera comes to tell him off first, and then Bronya comes after him for his mouth-- Bronya who is now his favorite of the cloistered Jades for how she shuts him down-- Karkat can guess why Lanque avoids her and talks ill behind her back, having laughed when Karkat called her Matron. Karkat stops hackling but he criks once (a thing his Lusus does in reprimand; he can't imitate the louder, scarier version without his vocal boxes cracking), mutely scowling and muttering under his breath, "If it was good fun then both parties would've laughed."

With Gamzee pressing into him the way he is, Karkat's feels like his irritation is valid on all accounts, lips pursed as he thinks. Quietly, and with his scowl becoming something with a little more mischief, Karkat whispers to Gamzee, "You're that much of a dreamboat, huh?" At least he's Karkat's dreamboat now.

 

*

 

"I had him up my nook all night," Gamzee leans over to Karkat, whispering, "now you wanna get up there?" As if threatening the mutant, his hand moves higher along Karkat's clothed thigh, settling dangerously close to the junction between his thighs.

It isn't as if Gamzee's forgotten about that.

More than once -- especially while driving the caravan -- he'd think of Karkat's fat nook stretched around him. How tight and hot he was.

Surely, he's recovered now.

 

Across the table, he hears Xia chat with Polypa, redressed in her finery; lime-green lip tint and all. She says she feels silly , and Polypa trills.

Gamzee doesn't think he's heard her trill before.

 

Bronya passes some soup in front of her, and Chahut does the same to Karkat. It smells... odd to Gamzee. Not bad. Xia, however, drinks down the broth, and is definitely attracted to foods high in sugar and fat.

He recognises some of Chahut's cooking out on the spread, and he's sure Karako was in the food preparation block trying to help.
"Breeder food." Gamzee teases, taking a bit of something-or-other that he'd grabbed.

The twins, in typical fashion, make a game of closing their eyes and feeding each other random items of food; Wanshi joins in and, at one point, even Daraya opens her lips to Baizli's proddings.

When Barzum comes around, a bright pickled vegetable on her plate, she trills at Lanque.
"Hmm?" His ears flick, and he raises his head.

"You know how to raise needy trolls, Gamzee. They always have to play a game, or they'll die of boredom. In a cave . This is where boredom comes to die." Despite that, he opens his mouth, taking the pickled vegetable.

"Wanshi says I look like some kind of tortured servant-troll!" Barzum giggles, only tripping once on her way back -- and, with the number of trolls around the table, she's easily caught and righted.
Evidently, using her twin for sight isn't ideal.

Gamzee chirrs.

"Next time we stop by, I'll have a grub of my own. How the fuck's that make you feel, Lanque? Maybe it'll even have spun itself into a lil' pupa like that." He points to the twins.

For once, Lanque doesn't sneer or come on to Gamzee. With his expression open, he looks a lot younger; much closer to Gamzee's age.

"With any luck, it'll latch onto Lynera or Daraya, and not me. Why do all of you seem to have a favourite Jade?"

"You all got a favourite clown." Gamzee says, returning to his food.

He nudges Karkat again.

"If you want something and can't reach it, ask me."

 

*

 

Before Karkat can lose face to the hand on his thigh, red already creeping up his neck and in his cheeks, he's got enough nerve to murmur back, "Why? I can't?" Putting on that innocent face that says Karkat's never said a lewd innuendo or implication or even had a dirty thought in his life (all lies) as he continues whispered words, "You're mine , aren't you?"

Of course, all things must come to an end, the boldness to say such things practically run out and his embarrassment shows in bright red, Karkat turning his head away to calm down-- especially remembering Gamzee's warning about Chahut.

Speaking of, thankfully most of his blush is gone by the time Chahut passes a broth in front of him, which like Xia, Karkat takes to right away. He'd always loved sweets, especially sugary fruits-- Kanaya used to make him something honeyed with the fruits they'd get from the foreign traders; it was a high favorite, to say the least --, and the broth tastes more like a festival drink than a broth, but he's not complaining, even when Gamzee teases.

Xia is up and dressed and evidently more animated than she'd been in the caravan, easing Karkat's worries about her immensely as she holds conversation with Polypa.

More things are passed around, Karkat winding up with more sugary things and meats-- even the meat has a touch of honey to it, Karkat almost fit to purr whenever he puts something in his mouth. It's good enough to distract him from pouting when the twins go over to Lanque, Barzum anyway, to get him to eat something. He still jumps like he can reach her from the other side of the table when she trips, relaxing once she's on her way again.

Gamzee seems like he's trying to gloat, Karkat thinks so anyway; but if any grub from him decides Lanque is their favorite, he'll....well he doesn't know yet but he'll do something .

Gamzee also takes the opportunity to be sweet (must be a perk of having a mate with a longer reach than his own), deciding to take advantage since he does want something and meekly point towards the sweet broth, "It tastes like a kind of cider we make for a festival-- well, without the alcohol anyway," he says with a small nostalgic smile.

 

*

 

"It tastes," he reaches, pours some into a small bowl for himself before filling Karkat's own bowl, "like breeder food." The jug is replaced, only for Polypa to refill Xia's bowl, as well.
Gamzee takes a sip, shuddering.

"Oh," he can feel the sugary liquid burn down his throat, "that's real motherfucking sweet." It's different from their elixirs, too; this is a pure sweetness, something to rot the teeth. Xia and Karkat seem to enjoy it, but no one else takes the broth.

"Your whole village trying to give every motherfucker fang-rot?"

He knows Karkat needs certain foods more than other trolls, probably has a taste for them, but he was counting on trade, preserves, and whatever they can hunt to sustain Karkat.

There's a clear difference in the food made for the rest of them, and the food made for the breeders. Karkat's plate smells sweet and fatty, while Gamzee sticks to energy-dense foods like tubers, starches; he does take the occasional piece of meat.

Kurloz must be paying their stay in gems, because there is no way a cloister of Jades should be able to feed twice their number.

 

When the conversation picks up, Daraya expressing an obvious interest in Xia's blood colour, Gamzee takes the chance to whisper to Karkat.

"What bulge'd you use on me? Or would it be your tongue? Fingers? Gotta say, I ain't gonna taste so sweet as you." He pulls away, but his hand lingers; slips between Karkat's thighs to cup and squeeze his nook.
Just for a second.

Then, as if he'd done nothing at all, he's back to eating, and Daraya's calling across the table.

"Karkat," she has all the poise of a wriggler, although her make-up is still impeccable, "since you're extending your stay with us, there's someone I'd like you to meet. They'll wanna meet Xia, too. That cool?" She tries to play it off, but there's an obvious need in her voice.

 

*

 

"Well not every motherfucker drinks it," Karkat stifles a laugh at Gamzee's expense, how his face nearly twists at the taste and the visible shudder that comes through him, only feeling half-bad for him.
To him, the broth doesn't burn sugar-sweetness into him-- his body will burn it up into energy and sap before Karkat can hate the taste of anything sweet; with the exception of certain flavors of course. In his village, when one of their breeders were carrying they did end up consuming pretty much their weight and then some in sugar-rich foods and things, Karkat imagines with his sweet tooth it'll be the same deal.

 

The entire table seems up in a chatter about this or that, something or the other. It's kind if nice, in a way, reminding him of gatherings where everyone talks to whoever they've got something to talk about with-- if Karkat wasn't sitting by Kanaya, he's sitting with friends or the other gossipmongers to gab about a couple or trio they spotted going off alone somewhere, speculating on what was going on out of sight; there was always something juicy to speculate.

 

At some point when the conversations are loudest, Gamzee subtly leans back to whisper at him-- to ask about how Karkat plans to have his nook. Of course the thought has him dusting at the cheeks, never mind Gamzee's smoothing his hand between plush thighs to grope and squeeze his nook, making Karkat jump in his seat.

Having to school his flushed face and keep from loudly squeaking as Daraya calls out to him.

Which actually quickly gets rid of his blush while Gamzee acts like he hadn't done a single thing (just wait, Karkat will get him back the first chance he gets, doing a thing like that). Frowning as he looks over, thinking his words over carefully, "...if they're rude like you then I ain't got any interest in meeting them. Who'd you wanna introduce a couple of mutants to anyway, a drone??" Well, with them being breeders, a drone wouldn't really do anything harmful, just bring them random stuff, or even some other troll's slurry bucket, like Karkat's heard.

 

*

 

Daraya rolls her eyes.

"Fine, fucking be like that, lame-ass coddled wriggler. Who gives a shit?" She stands abruptly from the table.

"Daraya!" Bronya tries to scold the young Jade, but she's out of the room in a huff.

"I'll go -- " Lynera's about to stand when Chahut pats her down, nearly pushing her back down.

"You get while the gettin's good, Schoolfeeder... A Sister'll go take a gander on what's happenin' in that bright thinkpan of hers..." Chahut follows Daraya at her own slow, relaxed pace, leaving both Bronya and Lynera flushed.

"I am so sorry, Karkat! Normally our Jades are much more considerate of guests -- and we would never take anyone to any drones!" Lynera's tone isn't very comforting, but it's clear she's trying.

"Lynera's right. I don't know of Daraya's intentions, but they may be better left unknown." Bronya adds, returning to her stew.

Gamzee presses his lips to Karkat's ear, earning a look from Wanshi but nothing more.

"That's the Jade working with that rebellious Teal I told you 'bout." He breathes, patting Karkat between the horns as if comforting him.

"Anyway, ain't no big deal. Go back to eating. When's the last time we had it so good?" He purrs -- and, in the back of his mind, hopes for some privacy today.

It's been a difficult trip, and he thinks they all deserve a little break.

 

*

 

Who gives a shit? Certainly not Karkat.

Even if something in his head is trying to tell him that he feels a little bad-- he does not .

No, he feels worse that Lynera and Bronya are apologizing to him for something that's not their fault, the one who is at fault has stomped away like an overgrown, overdramatic wriggler.

Chahut is the one who stands to go after her, after patting Lynera down. Lynera who, in a very flustered and discomposed manner, tries to reassure him that they wouldn't take anyone to a drone. Her tone doesn't sell it much but Karkat's willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.

Gamzee whispers to him about Daraya being the Jade who works with a rebel Teal-- like Karkat cares about that, or anything else to do with her, "She was rude to me first. You can't just ask for something from someone when you've been rude to them, that's not how it works..," Karkat grumbles quietly and probably nonsensically into his sugar-broth, muttering further how he's the dumb bumpkin from some backwater village and even he's learned that much. He'd go on but Gamzee patting between his horns is distracting and does actually work to calm his irritation.

"If she wants something she can at least start by saying 'sorry', y'know?"

 

*

 

"Don't get all hypocritical." Gamzee keeps his voice down, aware of Lanque right beside him.

"You can't even fully make apologies to -- to no one -- and you look at Barzum like a beaten woofbeast. I don't wanna rehash that harsh shit, 'cause it makes my blood boil something fierce, but the other end of it don't feel so good, does it?" Albeit, Karkat just had to endure some insults -- not an assault, midday, when they'd be at their most vulnerable.

Even if the Jadeblood did apologise, to each and every one of them, Gamzee's not so sure he'd accept it.

At the very least, he'd want the Jadeblood to labour for them; for him and the trolls she cornered.

 

Putting those increasingly irritating, unpleasant thoughts out of his mind, Gamzee finishes the last of his food. Without Chahut or Marvus, he defaults to Kurloz, clicking for the elder's attention.

"The fuck you do with used eatery?" He asks.

Kurloz points to Bronya.

"We have a rotating schedule of responsibilities! Written and agreed upon by Lynera and myself. Tonight, it's... Wanshi and Kurloz's turn to scrub the, uh, eatery." Bronya says, Kurloz showing her a quick thumbs-up before returning to eating.

"I'll have to put you into the rotation, I hope you don't mind. It wouldn't be fair, otherwise. Your Oliveblooded friend, too. Xia, Zhen, and Karkat are exempt."

 

Barzum and Baizli lean toward each other, Baizli eyeing Karkat while Barzum faces the mutant.

"Is he carrying?" Barzum asks.

"I bet he's carrying." Baizli nods.

"But he doesn't have an expanded abdomen, yet." Barzum retorts.

"Chahut says the rumplespheres have to first -- " Bronya clears her throat loud enough to startle both twins, Wanshi giggling.

"That's enough of that talk, you two. You're too young. Chahut shouldn't be telling you those things, yet." Her smile is strained.

"But Wanshi knows." Barzum adds, pointing toward the small, giggling troll.

 

*

 

He can't even argue with that, his expression going from soured to somber. Karkat isn't going to forget that the majority of their troubles are his fault. The broth feels thick in his mouth, going down his throat, that taste starting to lose some of it's pleasantness. He tries for finishing it anyway.

 

Gamzee asks what's to be done with the dinnerware, being pointed to Bronya who explains their scheduled rotation. Karkat wonders if it's alright to buddy the wriggler up with Kurloz, though he's quiet about that; chalking it up to his own unsettled opinion of the other-- just because Karkat feels like that doesn't mean everyone else does, so he should keep his mouth shut.

The Matron says she'll be adding Gamzee into the rotation, though Karkat's surprised that he isn't; he supposes when he gets a chance to check himself, if it turns out he isn't carrying, he'll ask her to add him in, not feeling right to impose and do nothing.

The twins do their quick talk, when they speak with each other, already knowing the words in each other's head and practically finishing the other's sentence, even though the question of Karkat carrying is the topic, it still brings a smile-- then a raised brow at how they know such words. That actually gets a small snort out of him, hidden by a swallow of sugar-broth.

When the table begins to be cleared, Karkat sees his opportunity to speak to Bronya, voice quiet so uninvited (or young) ears don't catch his words, "Is..is there a block that no one's using? I just want to make sure, if I'm carrying or not...?"

 

*

 

"Of course. My girls and I -- and Lanque -- don't want for space. Some spaces, however, may be less accommodating than others." She gets to her feet, but Gamzee's not far behind, trotting to catch up when the two leave the block.

The Indigoblood tilts his head curiously, tempted to grab at Karkat from behind -- if only to watch him turn red and bite back a squeal.

"Where you going?" He asks.

"Somewhere private." The emphasis she places on 'private' is supposed to let Gamzee know he's not invited.

That does nothing to deter the highblood.
"You're taking my mate somewhere private? Don't sound right." His tone is light, playful, while Bronya looks like she might consider clocking Gamzee.

"Normally I encourage everyone to have an accountabilibuddy, but in this instance, Karkat needs some time alone." She tries for a smile, and Gamzee tries for one back, slinging an arm over the mutant's shoulders.

His attention turns to Karkat, a wicked glint in his eye.

"What you gotta do that you can't do 'round me, Karkat? We be mated. Don't go keeping secrets. 'S almost like a lie, if you think on it." Apparently, with food in his stomach, Gamzee's much more in-line with the clown that stole him from the cathedral; lazy, playful, relaxed.

 

*

 

Karkat is relieved to hear that, they aren't putting anyone out of a block for one and that he'll have a moment by himself to do.... that .

He isn't surprised when Gamzee follows, asking where Bronya's taking him. Gets told that he's going somewhere with privacy, like that's anything to stop his mate, evident by the arm around his shoulders.

A faint dusting of red tries to crawl on his cheeks but Karkat keeps the majority of it down, even when Gamzee looks at him like that, clearing his throat before losing whatever nerve he has, "W-Whatever I'm doing, you can't be in there for, because then I won't be able to do anything," if only that Gamzee being in there while Karkat sticks his fingers up his own nook will have him even more frazzled than checking alone.

"I'm gonna tell you after anyway, and even if you did come with me you'd have to turn around," the thought though, of Gamzee watching --

Karkat's face instantly goes red, both hands on his cheeks while heat radiates from him.

 

*

 

"Then, I'll come with you and turn 'round." Gamzee answers, enjoying the red flare to Karkat's cheeks.

Bronya shows them to an empty block, hips swaying as she leaves.

The block has the basics -- it almost looks like a storage block, with the random assortment of things littered about. There is a mirror, long and slim, which gives Gamzee ideas -- but he avoids it for now.
"You checking to see if you're carrying?" He doesn't wait for an answer, turning around from Karkat, choosing to stare at some dusty old painting.

"That'd be miraculous, but we only mated once . Don't it take more than that? I'd planned for more, but with Xia and Zhen being so sickly -- and Polypa don't look like the type of troll who'd give us our due privacy. Bitch'd probably come tell us to shut up." He waves a hand as he speaks, because the painting -- nice as it is -- is not his style.

"Spent plenty of time thinking 'bout how your pretty lil' nook opened for me." He cocks a hip, wondering what troll posed for the painting. It looks like a middleblood.

"'Specially fun thinking back on all the noises you made, 'cause your motherfucking brain stopped working." He trills laughter behind his hand.

 

*

 

In his opinion Gamzee looks way too pleased at Karkat's expense.

 

They're brought to a block, which looks like more parts of a guest block and a bit of 'I don't know where to put this so I guess I'm gonna store it here and hopefully not forget about it'. She leaves them and as Gamzee says, he goes to turn around towards some of the stored things while Karkat steps toward the mirror.

"Mmh, you never know..," In one of those old tomes Kanaya has, it's speculated that the lower, or warmer, the caste the higher the fertility rate; Karkat is a hot-blooded mutant, he wouldn't put it past his body to pull a thing like that on him.

His tunic comes off first, all the way up Karkat's leggings sit high enough he could go around without a shirt if he really wanted (not a chance). Those are slid down, over his hips and off, panties and all, his own sugar wafting from his center. It's been a bit, since he'd seen his own reflection, naked at that-- and certainly not fat, the only thing really fat about him is his ass and thighs; pudgy at his stomach and soft everywhere else, there's really nothing wrong with his body type!

Glancing over his shoulder to make sure Gamzee was really turned around, Karkat looks back to the mirror, hands skimming down as he sighs, "Knowing this body though, it would only take once --"
Everything out of his mate's mouth nearly makes Karkat choke-- has half a mind to stomp over and give him a good whap with his shirt, talking about how he sounds even if he's right that Karkat might as well have been brainless, blush visibly moving down the rest of his body. Just wait.

Karkat's too flustered to give a proper answer, choosing instead to get his checking over and done with, starting with feeling around his abdomen, making sure nothing felt off, moving lower.

Winds up lowering himself to the floor on top of his leggings, having a better reach of his slit than standing as he spreads his thighs wide. His nook no longer feels sore, inside or out, figuring that everything must have righted itself, careful fingers pushing inside his slit while Karkat tries to focus more on that than the fact that Gamzee's there, making only the slightest whimper and being thankful that he's not unreasonably wet, otherwise it'd be loud.

Deep enough, close to where the seedflap gives way to his chamber, should be something more rigid in contrast to all the soft flesh if he is carrying...

 

*

 

"So...?" Gamzee glances over his shoulder after what he assumes to be a reasonable time, only to find Karkat thighs spread, fingers inside himself.
God, he reeks .

The highblood stares for a moment too long, heat coiling in his stomach at the sight of it. Then, he turns to fully face Karkat, trying to be casual -- trying not to eye up Karkat like a piece of prey.

"You said you couldn't do this with me here. Can't stick a finger in your nook around me? Why's that?" He teases, stepping lightly over to his mate -- making the conscious decision to avoid the mirror.
It'd look good if he turned Karkat, made the troll look at himself -- but Gamzee would rather not see himself. Scant glances in cool streams are fine, his features distorted; mirrors are too true to life.

He crouches, right in front of Karkat, nearly between the troll's thighs.
"Knowing this body, sure, but highbloods got us a harder time making more of us. If I was a Burgundy, that'd be different." He leans in horribly close to Karkat, arms crossed over his knees, balancing on the halls of his feet.

"What if someone... walked in on you while you was like this? Maybe Kurloz? What'd you do without your mate to protect you?" His fingertips skim Karkat's cheek, nails tracing those plump, pouty black lips.

"So? There a grub in there?" His touch trails down Karkat's neck, fingers coming to rest in the hollow of his collarbone.

 

*

 

"I can't, not with you watching," Karkat mumbles, eyes closed and face a mix of concentration and fighting back creeping arousal-- he's made sensitive like that, even his own short fingers can do something to him, even if it's not very effective now that he's had something else to consider as effective. Feeling his skin prickle even as he notes that Gamzee sounds much closer than he should have been, coming toward him still; Karkat wonders if he should be surprised that he can feel out where he is even with his eyes shut. "...even if you've already seen it all, it's still embarrassing for me.."

He can't possibly get any redder, and with the gut feeling Gamzee's right in front of him Karkat isn't going to dare open his eyes or else he'll freeze up, knowing that he'll see piercing purple looking back. Just focuses on inching his fingers inside, thankful for once that he wasn't gifted with a long, graceful figure.

Humming at the statement, though Karkat figures lowblood numbers were to make up for how higher castes lorded over them. But he can't help himself from making a gentle rib at his mate, snorting quietly, a touch of payback for not staying put, "Why? You don't think any of you took?" He tries for playful but it comes out a little strained, still refusing to look even as claws trace and drag over his cheek, his lips.

"About that-- don't leave me with Kurloz-- ever-- again. I don't care whatever situation we're having, do not leave me with your--"

Karkat abruptly cuts himself off, twitting in surprise as his fingers freeze in place, body tensing-- that...was that...?

He pushes up again, this time bringing his other hand to press carefully on top of his pelvis, slowly blinking his eyes open.

"...Hey....gimme your hand," which Karkat grabs anyway, placing Gamzee's where he was just pressing into, tensing as he tries to put the rigid part of flesh close enough to be felt from outside; Karkat wouldn't have believed that he'd start changing already, still going to have a time later on to believe he's actually carrying.

 

*

 

Karkat is so adorable , trying to huff and tease him as if he isn't burning up under Gamzee's fingertips.

When the mutant twitters, however, and grabs his wrist, Gamzee chirps in surprise, almost losing his balance.

The palm of his hand presses into Karkat's soft abdomen, his brows knitting.

"Am I supposed to feel something? I don't -- " With a slight pressure, he briefly feels a firm lump. It takes him a moment to find it again, but when he does, he strokes the ball of his thumb over the rigid flesh.
Gamzee thinks he forgot to breathe or blink for a few moments, only remembering to do so when his gaze travels from Karkat's stomach to his face.

"You're carrying?" He breathes, as if anyone could overhear them -- as if half the cavern population weren't already hypothesising the same thing.

It's different to joke about it -- to see Xia with her flat stomach and burgeoning chest -- than it is to have his mate carrying his grub.

A smile crawls onto his lips, and he settles onto his knees. He strokes his mate's cheek, chirring quietly.

"Ain't you a good mate?" He leans in until their foreheads touch, his eyes fluttering shut.

"Already carrying for me and everything. Miraculous, Karkat."

 

*

 

The look on his mate's face would be absolute gold if Karkat wasn't straining to hold himself; Gamzee being so awestruck makes him look more his age, more of his youth and newness showing.

"Yeah..," he only sounds a little breathless, a bit in awe himself. Finally allowing his body to relax some, pulling his slicked fingers-- almost his hand went up in there, heck --from his nook, careful not to use that hand for anything while Gamzee sweetly touches his brow to Karkat's own. His mate's smile is infectious point-blank, as well as his chirring, Karkat's throat thrumming along with him.

Huffing a soft laugh as he tries to close his legs back up some, at least so that he isn't so exposed, Karkat looks up , "Ain't you lucky I like you this much?" He wonders if, when he starts showing more, if he'll believe it more then, that Karkat's about to grow an entire new being inside of him.

It still seems unreal now.

Karkat hardly even wants to move, Gamzee acting sweet like he is, but there was a point to doing this. "C'mon, let me up? I've gotta let Bronya know, and I'd rather talk to her dressed."

 

*

 

"I'll let her know." Gamzee's eyes open, lidded, and he purrs.

"We ain't gonna go nowhere for a few days, at least. Barzum's gotta peel herself a fresh carapace. Xia gotta get herself -- you and Xia gotta get yourselves ripened. Zhen..." He pushes the sight of a fully-pupated troll submerged in sopor slime like a grub out of his head, instead taking Karkat's sullied hand.

A long, slender tongue licks each digit clean, and he finishes with a kiss to the centre of his mate's palm.

"Everyone gonna wanna celebrate." His lips part, a sharp fang showing through as he noses at Karkat's wrist.

"All the Purplebloods, at least. Breeders be some righteous miracle to us, more than y'know. We ain't even had no ceremony ." He sounds half-drunk, flushed with feeling; pride and pleasure and nervous excitement.

"Everyone gonna wanna get their feel on when you show, keep you fed and nested and happy. Caravans with breeders get themselves tributaries from others; all whatever they can offer." He purrs, smearing his greasepaint along Karkat's skin.

It's impossible for him to mind -- it feels like this has made everything worth it.

Notes:

The day we met has passed, and the day you've gone will soon come by.

I miss you, very much. Please be well.

Chapter 20: Calm Before The Revelry

They did still have Barzum to worry about, and Zhen for that matter, still sleeping in sopor. It was incredibly good of Bronya to let them continue their stay.
Karkat's brow tilts in confusion as Gamzee takes his slurry-coated hand before jumping as cool tongue laves over his fingers; wondering if he should be surprised or not that he's cleaning off his fingers like that, Karkat flushing as lips touch his palm.

He remembers Xia saying something like that, Gamzee confirming how breeder trolls were viewed by Indigos-- those who were clowns or followed the Mirthful teachings at the very least, Karkat thinks. Gamzee had said something like that too, when Karkat was first taken, that tributes were to be given, when he'd started showing anyway.

There was probably a certain way Karkat was supposed to act for such a thing, he'd have to ask later one about it though.

At the mention of a ceremony though, Karkat pokes some fun at his mate again, ignoring whatever paint comes off on his hand, "Gosh, went and knocked up your mate without even doing a proper ceremony. Gamzee, for shame." Karkat snickers, knowing that he'd be the talk of the village if they knew; it's enough of a scandal to have mouths and ears burn for a good while.

 

*

 

"Gosh, went and took your mate's bulge without even doing a proper ceremony? For shame." He parrots, chiding Karkat as much as his mate teases him.

He imagines, in a small village where the nights blur together, a couple mating without any sort of formal ceremony would be scandalous. The breeder might get a slap on the wrist, while the other troll gets chewed-out by half the village; the other half too busy speculating on due dates, genders, caste.

Chahut, most certainly, will rib Gamzee for it -- she might even rib Karkat, too -- but he's learned that's how she keeps everyone in-line. If they don't want their shame out in the open, they'd better not have anything to be shameful about.

It's much better, Gamzee's found, than defaulting to beheading one another every time an argument pops up.

With a kiss, Gamzee stands, and pulls Karkat to his feet.

"You wanna go tell everyone?" He asks, keeping his hands to himself only by way of holding them behind his back.

"I gotta fix my paint, but shouldn't take no more than a second, then we can go -- who should know first? 'Sides Bronya, we can get to her. Chahut'd be real glad. Bitch keeps all her feelings close to her pusher, but she'll be rightfully pleased if we go to her first."

 

*

 

Gamzee earns Karkat's ire in blushing cheeks and a stuck out tongue, Karkat halfheartedly pouting. That bit in particular would have Karkat dead by words and shame for sure if anyone could gab about him now-- and wouldn't the gossip group gab about him now, carrying and all.

Oh stars, he doesn't even want to think about the ribbing (the worst of it he knows to be is being asked or speculating what someone's bulge feels like-- because he's the one who usually starts that shit up).

 

His mate helps Karkat up, like he couldn't have done it himself but he supposes Gamzee is-- looks --extremely pleased with the news, Karkat getting a kiss for it.

He even stands a bit away, behaving even with his hands behind his back while Karkat picks up his clothes to redress.

Gamzee must really want to tell Chahut, and Karkat picks up on some of his feelings, that bond that's obviously still there, no matter what he says; Chahut really must have been as much his substitute Lusus as Kanaya for Karkat.

"I don't mind. Why don't we tell her first?"

First, his panties get pulled back up, leggings too, before he can put on his tunic, making sure everything is in place; he supposes he might not be able to wear leggings later on.

Before they can leave though, Karkat has a double-take look at the dusty portrait, though the picture is really unclear with not only how old it must be, but also all the dust and grime of age on it. "Hm?....I've seen that before somewhere...I think...,"but he can't even think of where he would've.

 

*

 

"Hmm?" Gamzee steps over to the portrait, drawing a finger through a thick layer of age.

"Where? Why's it matter, anyway? Just some middleblood. Maybe trolls like Remele reproduce shit like this and sell it to dumb motherfuckers." He wipes his hand off, slightly irritated about the diversion.

"Where'd you have even seen it, anyway? You never left your village 'fore -- 'less you lied to me." Although, he doesn't think Karkat's lied to him about never really leaving his village.
If Karkat were a good liar, they wouldn't be mates.

He pats his mate on the back, encouraging him to leave the block.

"I don't see the point in worrying on old shit if you don't wanna face it." He says this in reference to the mutant's village Elder, the old troll who will hopefully expire before Gamzee can wring his neck.

A natural death would be easier on Karkat.

 

"We got that tome, anyway. Original copy. Older than that motherfucking painting -- and you still ain't read it. Not saying you gotta, or that I even really want my mate wasting their time on long-dead shit like that, but it's there." He quiets down when they pass Kurloz and Wanshi, washing and drying the dishes respectively.

In these boring Jadeblood robes, Kurloz looks like he could be massive , stooping to scrub away at a particularly sticky bit of grime. Probably something sweet. Gamzee can't imagine what must have gone into that broth.

 

They find Chahut out in the large, open-air cave, sat on a rock with Daraya.

"I see where you and your bookworm bitch come from, but you both lack... practical experience." Chahut's deep voice rings out, her movements slow as she speaks.

"Most of my Brothers and Sisters succumb to the Sun before Lusus or troll reach them... That don't rightfully fit in with this climbin' ladder of privilege, does it? Sure, we occupy nominally high powers of position, but those positions be few and far between, and the vettin' process be based in more than blood... Combine that with extreme nomadic diaspora, and it's a motherfuckin' miracle we ever got ourselves a culture." She chuckles, Daraya nodding, only the slightest tell that she may have been crying.

"It's still not fair . I don't wanna be here as much as some Jades would probably shit their fucking britches to 'serve the Mothergrub' and be locked away with a bunch of other bitchy trolls. I'm never going to be able to make any fucking difference if all I can do is -- "

She trills, high and sharp, going green in the face as Gamzee hops over, helping Karkat down rocks and declines.

"Nah, motherfuckers, keep up the heretical talk." Gamzee loops an arm around Karkat's waist, Chahut leaning back to face the two of them.

"Marvus always been better on it than my own self... Could convince a Brother the sky was fallin'." Her fingers interlock, and she sends Daraya a smile.

The Jadeblood releases a puff of air, her bangs fluttering.

"Whatever." She mumbles, stomping off.

Gamzee waits for her to be far off before nudging Karkat forward. Chahut, blinking slowly, stares at the two of them.

"What's got a Brother lookin' like a wriggler...? I'd ask if you two swapped digestive fluids, but you ain't got no paint on your face, Karkat..." Her gaze drops, and her smile looks more like a mask.

"You better not be here to talk at me on no other lips... Brothers of mine, I'll plug my aural canals and beg the Sun take me."

 

*

 

Karkat shakes his head, "Well, it doesn't matter, I just feel like I've seen it, y'know?" It's probably not important, despite the squiggling want to see how it truly looks underneath all that grime. Though he laughs that Gamzee posits Karkat's ever left his village, "I've never even been to the sister village. The furthest I've gone is into the wood beyond, but something happened and I didn't want to go as deep as I did that time, after that anyway. Not that anyone would let me either."

Figures, that Karkat would tell all the adults and older pupae, Kanaya, anyone who'd listened, what happened and everyone turns around and tells him it was all a dream.

 

They leave the block, though Karkat makes a note of where it is, in case he's got a moment to ease his thoughts about the portrait-- that room could do with some decluttering anyway. Gamzee brings up the tome again, the one with Karkat's sign on it-- it's his sign now, since he can't bring up any other ingrained memories of having one and it was given to him so not to be signless --though he goes quiet as they pass Kurloz and Wanshi, Karkat guessing he must not have wanted the elder to overhear, remembering his mate saying how he had some pretty long opinions about it. Karkat's not ready nor keen to endure talking with Kurloz again either.

 

Chahut is found where the cave opens up to the sky, up a ways away from the ground entrance, Daraya next to her. Daraya who might as well have jumped in her spot for the kind of trill she makes, obviously startled by his and Gamzee's interrupting arrival. Karkat takes a guess she'd been trying to make the Jade feel better, at least diffuse whatever bomb Daraya had, but she leaves in an adolescent huff, Karkat tempted to stick his tongue out at her but refrains.

As always, Chahut has a slow kind of grace, like she can take her time in everything because what on Alternia could rush her? Greeting the both of them and when Daraya can't be heard stomping away, Gamzee urges him forward-- Karkat feeling like he was gently being pushed under the cart this time versus thrown but fine, he'll tell her, he guesses.

"N-Nothing like that!" Karkat has to stifle a snort of laughter, not expecting Chahut to say or do something as childish as plug her ears just to avoid hearing something dirty; thankfully Karkat doesn't have anything like that to tell her.

"We," his eyes flick obviously to Gamzee, "just wanted you to be the first to know." In a perfect world, Karkat would be able to tell Kanaya right away, the first for him to tell. Telling Kanaya and Chahut would be the most perfect, but he's good with this too, happy even.

A bit nervous as he gets the words to leave his mouth, "..I'm carrying...."

 

*

 

Chahut's expression falls and, under the paint, there's a sort of surprised awe in her purple eyes.
Then, her gentle smile resurfaces.

"Praise be The Mirthful Messiahs for this fine miracle... We ain't deservin'. I ain't deservin', neither, of bein' the first told, but I appreciate the sentiment." She bows her head for a moment, hair falling in her face, hiding her pleased expression.

By the time she's lifted her face, she's corrected herself.

"I assume you'll want the resident Jadeblood to know." Already getting to her feet, Gamzee clicks.

"Not 'fore all the Indigos. Karkat's with us . 'Sides, the fuck's Bronya gonna do that you can't? Karkat ain't a Mother Grub." He retorts, wondering who should be told next -- Marvus, probably.

"The Grand Highblood's Indigo...?" Chahut questions, brows raising.

"She'll know when she wakes." He waves her off.

"She has woken... Refuses to be anywhere but by her Lime. You know how it is." She watches Gamzee hook an arm around Karkat, the younger Indigo humming in agreement as he pulls Karkat away.

 

Gamzee helps Karkat back into the caves.

Marvus is outside, returning from the market with a cart of goods behind him. He's a difficult troll to disguise, so he didn't bother with it too much; aside from elbowing away the more nosy trolls, he was able to do what he wants. It's just late enough, as well, that travelling outside is risky.

Gamzee chirps from the mouth of the caverns, only noticing the presence of another troll too late.

She's sat poised and pretty on the back of the trolley, but nearly jumps out of her skin when she sees Gamzee.

Marvus mouths something to her, then comes over to him and Karkat.

"Sup, Gam, Phat Kat. What's good?" He briefly gestures, bowing with a flourish, although his injured hand is obviously purple and sore.

"When you get back in? Shiiiiiiiit, took you two long enough. What kind'a wicked persecution you face on your lonesome?" He talks as if nothing happened, addressing both trolls with the same charismatic, lackadaisical attitude.

"Phat Kat carryin' yet?" The question draws a chirp from Gamzee, and a belated nod.

"Chahut knows. I figured you should know, too. We've also added a few extra motherfuckers to our group, and, uh... that bitch." Gamzee finds his voice, and peeks around Marvus.

"Who the fuck's she? The Jades ain't gonna let us make sacrifices, will they?" He asks, brows drawn.
Marvus chuckles, stepping aside and pointing to the troll with his cane.

"That be Chixie Roixmr. Some social pa-ra- site was crawlin' all over her. Apparently, she real big in this area. Big enough to get the attention of clown-obsessed Navies, anyway. Might spice up our prayers with her voice, you feel me?" The Bonzeblood gives a nervous wave, looking like she might be regretting all of this.

Gamzee waves back, but leans down to Karkat, whispering in his ear.

"Don't get too attached. Ain't no guarantee she'll see the next moon." He says this quickly, because he knows how these things go; whether or not they have insidious plans, they do get overzealous on occasion.

Albeit, Marvus' 'guests' usually end up surviving the day.

Chahut and Karako's almost always perish.

 

"Phat Kat, why don't you go make some introductions with Chix? Got some chattin' to do with your mate, all in the private sector -- and she might gather some calm vibes off you. Village solidarity, motherfuckers. Represent." With that, he slings an arm over Gamzee's shoulders, taking him deeper into the caverns.

*

 

For all that Karkat can tell, he thinks Chahut is truly delighted with the news and being the first to know, even if she's not the type to show it by way of a jump and cheer, not the type to be animatedly excitable.

She's right, for Karkat at least, Bronya was next on his list of people to tell-- people he could immediately tell anyway --he'd figured the Matron Jade to be very detail-oriented in her planning, and she did want to know for sure if he was carrying.

He's certainly relieved to hear that Zhen did in fact wake up, and he'll have to remember to ask Bronya for those soothing remedies she mentioned.

Though Gamzee sort of commandeers (not sort of, he flat out does) who they're telling and in what order; Marvus being next, since they see him from the open-air cave coming along the road. Going back through the caverns, though it hardly feels like Karkat's actually walking so much as simply being pulled along without his feet touching the ground in Gamzee's excitement.

Outside, a bit late in the night, the both of them wait for Marvus to reach the caverns, cart in tow-- and another troll.

It's a little funny, to see Gamzee halt mid-sentence as he finally notices, asking for the both of them who she is. Chixie, a Bronze, Karkat notices with several questions popping in his head, has the look of someone about to bolt, especially after Gamzee's mention of sacrifices, if the Jades will let them-- he hopes not.

Gamzee leaning over to tell him not to get attached being that the Bronzeblood may not see the next moon has Karkat giving him an incredulous look, now worried about Chixie-- how was he not supposed to worry after being told that??

Marvus, still referring to Karkat with that nickname, asks him to introduce himself to the Bronze-- help her calm down, he interprets, taking Gamzee aside to speak with. What they'd talk about, Karkat can only guess, but at least he can assuage some of the situation.

Turning back around, he offers Chixie a reassuring smile, "I'm gonna guess you're not sure what you've gotten into, huh? Karkat. Vantas, if it matters to you."

 

*

 

"I mean, that's sort of my whole life, you know?" The Bronzeblood has a pretty, delicate voice to match her pretty, delicate features.

"Being a lowblooded, village-pupated troll puts me at a disadvantage." Despite saying she was raised in a village, she dresses well.
Not exactly current, but not exactly something outdated, either.

She slips from the back of the trolley, the first fingers of daylight seeping across the sky. Her choices are clear, so she steps under the protection of the cave -- and keeps distance between her and Karkat.

"That's what Zebruh says, anyway. I don't know how true it is. Any Olive-and-above performances, and I might get culled for dramatic effect, so I try to not get culled." She chuckles awkwardly, evidently unsure what to do about her hands or where to look.

"Anyway," her voice cracks, then returns to its soft, melodic nature, "I know Marvus is a clown, and that makes him terrifying -- I hear he hangs and slits open any troll that causes trouble at his performances -- but he's also Marvus . Everyone knows him. Well, everyone who doesn't live in a closely-knit, segregated community." Her eyes light up for a moment.

"He told me that, if I'd like, there's a celebration today -- and I guess there is! Marvus is celebrating his mate carrying, right? I didn't even know he had any quadrants." Chixie looks like she wants to say you're so lucky, but knows better than that.

 

*

 

Chixie is a very pretty troll, soft features and a soothing, delicate voice to match; she reminds him of at least a quarter of the heroines in his books, or how he'd imagine the lowblooded ones to be anyway.

Karkat huffs a laugh, "The only disadvantage us village trolls have is being looked down on because we're from a village. I'd like to think I'm a little smarter than the average village bumpkin though, and I'll take a guess that you are, too." It's been a while since he's said that, the phrase has a feeling to it he can't quite name-- it's not quite nostalgia, but there's certainly another word for it.

The sun starts to creep up, getting them to retreat into the safety of the caves, enough where the light won't touch; Marvus would need a suncloak to grab the goods from the cart, though Karkat's got one in his bag, if he really wanted to try himself-- sort of, but he's not sure he'd even move it much.

"I mean, that's a great itinerary, trying not to get culled." Whoever this Zebruh is sounds like a tool, "Mmh, Marvus just said you're pretty popular around here. You're a singer, yeah?" Karkat hazards a guess; with a voice like that she has to be (he's been told that his singing voice matches his face better than his normal voice, especially when he's yelling down some poor troll).

Karkat knew Marvus was also some kind of popular performer, he just didn't know how much, though from how Chixie speaks of him it's evident he's also a big name out there. He feels a little called-out when she posits that anyone would know him if they weren't from a village.

He's taken aback; when did Marvus get a mate?? Or a quadrant??? Jeez, was the time they were gone that long??

"Hmmh, I didn't know he had a mate-- or even a quadrant for that matter," Karkat hums in speculating thought; who, though? He racks his pan for anything from last he'd seen Marvus for a clue or something, his brain taking it's sweet time to realize much.

 

*

 

Once Chixie discerns that Karkat isn't joking, it doesn't take long for a look of mortification to creep over her features.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" She frets, hands on her cheeks.

"I just thought -- you looked so comfortable when he came up to talk to you, and -- " She chirrs, face a ruddy brown.
Her gaze flickers.

Maybe it's the other Purpleblood, then? Is he more desirable than Marvus? He's younger, sporting that same slim stature; they trade words easily.

The other's horns are more conventionally attractive, curving gracefully from his puff of wild hair.

Chixie's not going to make the same mistake twice, though. She knows she could get her head lopped off for far less than sticking her foot in her mouth.
"Um, yeah! I sing." She decides to return to a safe topic, rather than flounder and possibly get herself culled.

"I suppose I actually owe a lot to Zebruh. He tacks up reviews around the city. He's a critic. As long as I don't... make him upset... he won't entirely trash my whole career! So, that's something. I think he just, ah, has a fascination for lowbloods."

"That's called a fetish, Chix." Marvus calls, swinging an arm comfortably over her shoulders. Although she squeaks, she doesn't shrink or move away.

"Relax, the only fetishes we got are the kind used during sacred religious ceremonies. I'll get you set up. Let's bounce." He sweeps her away, a wave sent back to Karkat, alongside a hopeful smile.

Gamzee trills for Karkat's attention.

"Brother Marvus and Sister Chahut gonna be busy for a while. You wanna tell the others? Could leave it for the day, y'know, when we're all together." He slinks close, looping an arm low on Karkat's hips.

"Wouldn't argue for some alone time with my mate -- we can -- " he leans in closer, lips brushing Karkat's ear, "We can still mate while you're carrying, can't we?"

 

*

 

Fretting is infectious, in it's own way, especially village troll to village troll, how Chixie starts up quickly spreads to Karkat like the understanding of what she'd been implying, chirping in worry, "No nonononono , it's fine, don't worry!" Karkat tries to wave her back to calm-- he was supposed to calm her down wasn't he??

He's more than thankful for the change of topic-- she thought he was mated to Marvus?? Which there's nothing wrong with, he's sure Marvus is a highly desirable catch-- but he reminds Karkat of his younger tastes, of someone unrealistically dazzling (granted, Karkat was three but still ).

"I thought so, you sound lovely enough just talking. I'm afraid I'm not from around this area, but I bet your singing voice catches a lot of ears." It's sort of easy to talk with her, like they may as well be from the same village, have come from the same place. Karkat falls into a natural ease that he hasn't been able to for a while, listening to her talk about this questionable Zebruh, like Karkat's a sympathetic ear for her worries about what this guy has over her. Which has Karkat grimace, "Sounds an awful lot like he's coercing you. That's such a tacky thing for a critic to do."

Marvus couldn't have said it better, reiterating how this Zebruh sounded like the worst kind of prick without actually saying it. As Karkat's been witness and subject to, Marvus eases into other's boundaries like it's no big deal, acting like they're already long time friends with his arm around Chixie-- Chixie who Karkat has some suspicions about regarding her earlier thoughts and reactions.

He walks away with Chixie, Karkat feeling a little down as he waves back, that their meeting is ended so soon; he hopes that she won't end up dying. Gamzee said don't get attached, but that's easier said than done concerning Karkat.

 

Speaking of Gamzee, his mate trills at him, getting Karkat to turn and chirr back.

"Well, I gotta at least tell Bronya, I figure she'd like to maintain her schedule to a tee..." But telling everyone all at once does sound better than hunting people down, he considers it.

An arm closes around his hips, Gamzee leaning closely with his suggestion, Karkat pursing his lips as his color flares on his cheeks, nearly squeaking as cool lips graze against his skin. "W-Well, it's not... impossible . I know it's fine up t-to a certain point, some breeders had to...had to get creative, if-if they were too gravid, y-y'know?" He's going on like they haven't already fucked, rambling like he doesn't have a filter.

It's not so much Gamzee as the image gallery he's got in his head, but Gamzee doesn't help either.

 

*

 

"Clowns're flexible for a reason, Karkat." He chitters, pulling Karkat back into the recesses of the cavern.

 

Once they inform Bronya, the news spreads like wildfire; even while the Jadebloods make attempts at sleeping, the Purplebloods refuse to give in to their bodily needs. Chahut commandeers the nutrition block, eventually allowing Daraya to help in preparation; both of food and other festive goods.

Marvus, meanwhile, helps Chixie check her pitch, and deal with the acoustics of a literal cave.

Gamzee feels like an old troll, chirring dismissively when Kurloz comes to silently congratulate them. The twins nearly bowl Karkat over, Gamzee putting out an arm to stop them -- because he won't have something as small as a fall making Karkat lose their grub.

He clicks at them, even as their little hands pap at his face and reach around him.

"I knew he was carrying!" Barzum shouts, free of sopor for now.

"You did not!" Baizli replies, toppling over Gamzee's shoulder.

"I did too!" Barzum retorts, cackling.

Both small trolls end up flinging their arms around Karkat, burying their faces against him.

For all that Gamzee murmurs about being careful, the twins mutter back that they are being careful.

Karako's the last to approach them -- barring Zhen -- and Gamzee can see Bronya hovering almost out of sight. He'd poke fun at Karako for it, but the short troll looks so nervous when he approaches them that not even the innocent joy of the twins can rile him up.

He honks weakly at Karkat, fingers clumsily digging down the collar of his robes; he's the only Purpleblood to wear his sign, engraved in a pendant that's surely expensive.

That same pendant is the one he pulls off his head, over his impressive horns, and presents to Karkat.

Gamzee blinks dumbly, then turns his attention back to the twins, wrapping an arm around Baizli.

"C'mon, lil' motherfucker, you're gonna burrow your way inside my mate."

 

*

 

"As you like to remind me," Karkat rolls his eyes as they head back in, safely out of daylight's way.

He doesn't even have to wait until later to tell everyone, they find out anyway, Karkat assumes through Bronya. The Indigos seem intent on not sleeping through daylight and Karkat doesn't miss Daraya trailing after Chahut to the kitchen block until she's allowed in, hearing Chixie test her voice in the cave. Karkat blinks in mild surprise when Kurloz comes to offer his congratulations, though Gamzee more or less dismisses him (Karkat both relieved but curious as to why the elder endured the treatment).

As the twins almost literally run into him, Karkat can't help himself, even when Gamzee tries to stop them in their excitement and exuberance, evidently not well enough as both come to burrow into his body.

Making a warm smile as he holds them against his sides-- mindful of Barzum, still peeling and while cleaned from sopor, notably dry, like bulb paper almost. He's missed them definitely, having become very attached to Baizli and Barzum-- they're his, even while he has a grub growing inside him, the both of them are his.

Karkat also throws in his own words about how careful the twins are being with him.

 

He isn't really expecting Karako to come up to him-- Gamzee, yeah, but not himself. If anything, Karkat feels just as nervous as Karako looks. He may as well be shaking as he digs under his Jade robes, pulling off a pendant from around his neck-- to hold out to Karkat , as if he's meant to take it.

Karkat is confused for all of a moment before his eyes get wide, noting Karako's sign-- it has to be his, if not Bronya's --engraved, the pendant itself is gilded in a bright gold, obviously well-cared for.

"I can't ," Karkat's voice breaks, and some tears even try to well up, Gamzee having taken initiative to bring the twins away from him. "I can't take that from you," he clears up his voice, and then the tears, trying to speak evenly, somewhat quietly. "That's important to you, isn't it? It obviously means a lot, I'd be insulting you if I took it." He tries to find his words, to say what he wants and how he means them.

"I still owe you, so I especially can't accept something so important."

 

*

 

"I took something important from you." It's barely a whisper, his gaze downcast.

He'd told Bronya everything , hopping from point-to-point, and she let him tire himself out before saying anything.

 

It's not her place to cast judgement.

 

She can comfort him all she wants, but the Jadeblood wasn't one of their own -- and it isn't as if Karako's never spilled Jade before.

 

"Pop out the setting and polish off the backside. The chain and pendant should be worth something, then." Karako can hazard a guess that even a Navyblood would need to dig rather deep in their pockets for the raw material.

"I don't know why you see me as a troll who would needlessly take the signs off a fresh corpse, but I have little else to give, child, and even less to pray forgiveness. The twins are merely pupae. I am not. I should not have the temper of a pupa." The last line has been recited time upon time, both to and from him, due to his temper; an ill beast that lashes out.

Karkat doesn't need to know that, though. He doesn't expect this reaction from the mutant, and doesn't know what Karkat could possibly owe him -- the pants?

 

*

 

Does he tell him? Should he tell him?

Karkat can't even fathom how Karako might feel; relieved or upset? That Kanaya was still alive, still breathing and still very much had her head.

Hearing what he says makes Karkat feel worse, and if he takes that pendant, he'd only hold on to it to give it back, to either Karako or Bronya. The other side is engraved as well, and Karkat can read it even (he really is Bronya's pupa, and she's Karako's Lusus, the other side of the pendant pretty much says if he's lost he's to be returned to his caretaker).

 

He should tell him, if it'd absolve Karako of anything-- if there was anything to be absolved.

"That's what I owe you for. I accused you wrongly for taking signs. And I hit you," even though Karkat knows that he wound up hurting himself more than Karako, physically at least, "...She told me anyway, that she'd been wearing them on her wrist and they must have gotten caught."

Karkat does his best to explain that his Jade was not, in fact, dead at all, keeping his voice quiet, the conversation solely between him and Karako. Tells him that Gamzee saw her too-- not so much saw as they glared at each other with all the menace of two grown trolls acting like wrigglers --if he didn't believe Karkat.

"Even if you have nothing else to give, I cannot take that. I have no right to. I owe you an apology I can't make because it would be ingenuine."

 

*

 

Karako looks at the pendant in his hands, his shoulders slumping.

"I am forever tainted, then." He slips the chain back over his head, discreetly tucking it all away, down the neck of his robes; Marvus has a few rings, a few pieces of gold and glamour to play up to audience standards, but it isn't common of their caste to adorn jewelry.

"I was hoping for a solution, but I suppose one isn't to be found. At least now the truth is known. Praise be The Messiahs." He turns quickly and walks off, stiff-backed.

"Praise be." Gamzee murmurs, the twins off playing on rock formations.

He approaches Karkat slowly, and pats him lightly between the horns.

"You did good, not giving out an apology you wouldn't otherwise. Karako'll feel bad for himself for a while, but a motherfucker feels how a motherfucker feels. I -- " Gamzee cuts himself short, trying to think for once before speaking.

"I know you'd have a lot more misgivings with me than you do if that Jade wasn't alive. I'd be more content if she wasn't alive. That's just the truths, and a motherfucker can take 'em, or live in blindness. Blindness might be bliss, but bliss comes 'fore death." He scratches Karkat's scalp, hoping he's done something -- but he might've just put his foot in his mouth.

Gamzee'd come to realise, even before meeting Karkat, that his inner turmoils were unpleasant. He'd learned to omit or distract rather than outright lie.

As far as anyone's concerned, omission and lying are two different things; used just as much on other Purplebloods as on the rest of the castes.

"C'mon, why don't we go chill somewhere for a minute?" His hand lowers to the nape of Karkat's neck, his fingers dancing over the short hairs there.

"Looking like you might need to have a quick pile, or just sit with a brother and breathe. In the forest, when I did that, did it help? Making you feel my pusher?"

 

*

 

There is always a solution, but it feels like Karako may be right, that there isn't one here (or, rather, one hasn't been found yet, at least Karkat would like to think so. One that makes everyone happy, or at the very least one that doesn't hurt anyone).

Gamzee tries to put him more at ease about it-- tries , which really is what Karkat appreciates the most, even if his words can't bring him as much comfort as he'd like.

He knows Gamzee's opinion of Kanaya isn't going to change soon, evident of how he just said he'd have preferred if she stayed down and dead basically. If Karkat wants to change that, if it can even be changed at all, all he can do is try and let time handle the things it can.

For now though, all he can do is accept that he can't ease any of what Karako feels.

And apparently have his head move on it's own to push up against Gamzee's palm, before his hand slides down to the back of his neck. "...is that okay?" He won't mind going off for a bit, even if he's sure he won't say much if they pile. ".....I liked hearing you, when you had me against your heart..."

 

*

 

"Why wouldn't it be okay?" He takes Karkat by the hand, twining their fingers together.

"I like you for more than your nook, Karkat. If my mate looks like he needs some pale time, who the fuck am I to ignore that?" With a kiss, he guides his mate down the caverns.

 

It doesn't take long to find an empty block, lighting a candle and shutting the poorly-crafted wooden door.
This block looks like an old, unused respite block; it'd be perfect for them if everything weren't covered in a layer or three of dust.

"No one should get their bother on with us for a while, now." He steps over to the bed, then decides against it in favour of taking a seat in an old, ratty armchair. The pattern dates it more than anything else, but it also looks like someone took a knife to it.

Probably out of frustration; there aren't any bloodstains.

 

Gamzee chirps, opening his arms to Karkat, beckoning his mate to curl up in his lap -- and when the smaller troll does, Gamzee gingerly urges him to rest his cheek against his chest, where his pusher beats slow and steady.

It's quicker and stronger than the last time they'd done this, but not by much.

He runs so cold that this is natural for him; a wait between beats, as if his pusher were wringing itself of absolutely all blood before refilling.

His fingers move through Karkat's hair, down the curve of his spine, and back up again.

"I do like you for more than your nook." He says again, quieter this time.

"I mean, I know The Messiahs gifted you to us, but I wasn't expecting to get so much adoration in such a small time. Although, even back when you was freshly-captured and puffing up, I meant what I said. That I liked you. You wasn't cowering or getting feral. That shit takes globes. I liked that." Did he tell Karkat back then?

It seems so long ago -- but, no, he doesn't think he'd told Karkat anything.

 

*

 

Cool fingers lace with his own, Karkat making a small half smile toward his mate as they slip away through the caverns.

As Bronya said, no one really wants for space, there being a spare block that obviously hasn't seen much use in some time-- if he's not going to be on the rotation, he's got plenty of things to keep him busy, unless he's prevented from doing said things.

Gamzee settles into the old armchair, having seen better days by the state of it, but it still serves it's purpose. It doesn't take much convincing for Karkat to climb into Gamzee's lap, legs curling under him as he's gently brought to have his head at Gamzee's chest; it's not as slow as it was, back at the pond, when his mate had come back with literal holes all over him, Karkat afraid he'd bleed out before he'd recover.

Still slower than Karkat's, but in a better, healthier way, conpared to before, he thinks.

A hand trails through his hair, down his neck, along his back, retracing back up in the same line, a comforting repetition, Karkat feeling his breath slow, deep and even, maybe his own pusher makes an attempt to calm, as if he's trying to match Gamzee's pace.

Karkat smiles a little wider at the repeated line-- nice to know he's not wanted solely for his body, that he's something more than that to Gamzee. Makes his heart speed back up, to hear Gamzee say that he liked him (he's said it before, that first night, and it made Karkat blush then, too), and then shortly chuckles when he said it's because he didn't cower or go wild to escape. Karkat sighs, "...There aren't many things that I cower from, anymore anyway. I haven't been afraid of much since....," he trails off for a minute, before shaking his head and resuming, "You weren't going to be an exception. At the time, Ampora was already rock-bottom for me, so I thought things could only look up from there. I told you before, didn't I? I literally made a wish right before you crashed into the wedding hall."

 

*

 

"Clowns're better than fish-fucks, glad we got that mutual understanding going on 'tween us." He chuckles, lidded gaze focussed on Karkat.

Pretty soon, things are going to change. Karkat is going to change. This small, defenceless troll is carrying his grub, and he still can't quite wrap his head around the immensity of it all.
He smiles, a gentle purr starting up in his chest.

"Messiahs did you some dirt, throwing you some clowns. Sure that wasn't the type of miracle you had in mind. Perhaps something more... traditional. What bards get their sing on. Some motherfucking gallant knight flinging open the doors, got a blade on him, ready to rescue you from the seadwellers -- 'cept they'd be handsome, and courteous, and probably some humble hue like Teal." Not too high on the hemospectrum, but high enough to give them status.

Gamzee's heard countless idealised stories like that; lowbloods in distress being rescued from dangerous highbloods by middlebloods, or a lower highblood.

Everything above Navy seems to be put in the place of 'villain', while Navy fluctuates depending on the story; lowbloods are the obvious victims, and middlebloods save the day.

 

It's not realistic, but Gamzee can see how such stories might help one sleep during the day.

 

"Y'know, he'll heal in time." Gamzee murmurs.

"You'll heal, too." His voice is soft, quiet.

"If it was gonna be a grudge, Karako wouldn't look so forlorn. He'd treat you how I treat Kurloz. That be a motherfucking grudge. What's happening now? Ain't nothing but some hurt what needs to heal itself, first -- and Karako a friendly troll. Just protective."

 

*

 

That's especially something they can agree on, as far as Eridan Ampora goes; well, when Karkat meets a decent seadweller for himself, that will sure be a day.

"Hey now, sometimes dirt is good dirt, that's something you learn in a village," at least the farmer trolls think so, and while Karkat doesn't know the specifics, he's got a pretty okay idea of what kind of dirt one can grow things in. They had their rough patch earlier than most trolls would, but if The Messiahs did him dirty then at least he landed in a fairly soft patch of soil.

He laughs into his hand before turning his face a little more into Gamzee, "That's pretty close to what I was imagining at first, to be honest," he won't divulge that he threw his first love's face on that imaginary knight troll more often than not. "At the very last moment, because it felt like my final moments, I just thought as hard as I could, asking the stars or anything that would hear me." All to be answered by Gamzee's Messiahs, but Karkat can't complain much about that.

Gamzee says Karako will heal, that Karkat will heal, again things that time can handle.

Listening to him purr could lull Karkat to sleep if he'd let it. And that's something to be glad about, that it's not a grudge, that they won't carry one with them.

 

*

 

"Knew it." He chirrs, sinking deeper into the worn old armchair.

"'Sides, even if you wanted a clown, you wouldn't think of actually getting visited by none. We don't go into villages. If they make trouble for us, or there's a troll of interest in there, then we might burn the place down -- or just steal us a troll -- but it ain't usually too good to have a whole-ass caravan of highbloods rolling up, you feel me?" Gamzee never tried it, but he knows they'd get about as warm a welcome as what the cities tend to give them when they show up as a pack.

That, and they evidently try to disguise themselves when making an attempt to non-violent methods of purchase.

"Maybe your 'stars' is our Messiahs. That's where they be, anyway. Sure as fuck ain't on Alternia, or nowhere The Empress can get her finny fingers on 'em." The way Karkat burrows into him is precious, making him wonder if this is how he feels when the twins do the same.

 

All too soon, there's a knock at the door.
Gamzee perks up, Karkat held to his chest still.

"Xia said to find you two." It's Polypa, and he relaxes.

"Your celebration's going to start without you at this rate. She also told me to tell Karkat they've made more of that disgusting breeder broth." She jokes -- Gamzee didn't think Polypa could joke -- and steps off.

Gamzee nudges Karkat.

"You wanna go? Everyone'll be there -- maybe not the Jades, but you looked like you was getting all types of friendly with that Bronzeblood, and Xia'll be there. Seems like she's taken Purpleblooded shit 'bout as well as you." It's just evident she's been exposed to it longer than Karkat.

"And they got that soup you liked so much earlier."

 

*

 

"Well damn , lucky on me that I wasn't still at my village when you came to get me, huh? I'd have been upset with you for sure, so maybe you're also lucky on that." Karkat doesn't even want to think about how that would have went down (he can't...with that having been a potential possibility in mind, he'd probably-- no, would have truly hated Gamzee, as well as everyone else maybe, if that had actually been their start. He can thank their lucky stars-- or Messiahs --that it hadn't happened that way).

Karkat lightly laughs, "Maybe. Who knows for sure. Your Messiahs told you where I'd be and answered me at the same time; two fowls with one stone, so someone's gotta be up there." He's more or less mumbling now into the spot where Gamzee's chest beats the loudest. If it were not for Gamzee's shirt, Karkat may as well be pressing his lips to his heart, feel that steady, slow thrum of blood being pumped through.

 

The knock at the door has him jump, only partially relaxing when Polypa speaks, perking when she mentions Xia and that sugar broth. "It's not even that gross," then again, Karkat already has a sweet tooth and he's a breeder to boot, his body probably thinks it's the best damn thing while everyone else, sans Xia, doesn't get the same value from it.

Once Polypa leaves, job accomplished, Karkat hums and sighs into where he's burrowed, reluctant to lift his head but does so anyway to look at Gamzee.

"We should get back, shouldn't we?" He means, they can't not show up, right? "I'm..I think I'm alright now, at the least I'm better than earlier. Let's go, yeah?" Karkat hums a short laugh, "Definitely won't say no to more 'breeder broth'," he says it in the same joking way as everyone else seems to feel about it, eyes shining.

Notes:

At this point, all I can really rely on is to hope that this hand I'm reaching to you with can even reach. Admit further that I'm really not okay, even though that makes the acceptance more difficult.

Hope that you reach back.

In any case, please be well, to you and everyone else.

Chapter 21: Make Merry In The House Of Fools

Notes:

This was one of those parts where you kind of threw me for a loop, not gonna lie hah. As you put it in our made-up fictional clown culture, this thing that was essentially a baby shower was the only time Gamzee could openly be horny and not get dunked on for it, and he was gonna take and r u n, lol. Even if I felt a little thrown under the bus, we still had fun and made plenty of our own jokes OOC.

We were trading GIFs and memes about it, especially Karkat and that one that's just: https://media.tenor.com/9AxpRD2d5d0AAAAd/blinking-eyes-man.gif

It was really fun despite everything else about to go down.

"I'd call it a proper name if I even knew what the fuck was in it 'sides every type of sugar." Gamzee teases, cupping Karkat's cheeks and kissing him before getting the both of them up.
He should go clean up his face paint, still a bit smeared from earlier, but he's also acutely aware of the fact that he'll just mess it up again during the celebration -- or afterwards, if he slinks off with Karkat and they have any energy left.

Taking the mutant's hand, Gamzee leads him out to a large cavern; there's more trolls than he expected. Polypa and Chixie, sure -- Polypa's former palemate was, evidently, attending, and Chixie's going to be performing -- but Daraya, Lanque, and Bronya are mixed in among the painted faces, as well.

The walls of the cave have been upholstered, partially, in drapes both dusted-off and borrowed from the Jades, as well as their own blood-spattered tent canvas. They've substituted a fire pit with a multitude of candles, clustered in small groups on the floor.

That breeder broth is there, among fresh fruit and a few different batches of elixir.

 

"Phat Kat," the clamour isn't so uproarous that Marvus can't be heard above the din of trolls talking, "what's good?" He ambles over, and before he can say anything further, Gamzee pipes in.

"He's keeping his clothes on." There's a nervous energy in Gamzee, like he's expecting to be in pain soon.

"Figured you'd say that and deny us all the privilege of layin' our eyes on the body what'll bring and has brought forth miracles only nominally contained within the mysterious, inefficient, overburdened Mother Grub. Wasn't here to ask to see your mate's tiddies, though I'm sure they bitchin' -- " Gamzee flushes, and wishes he'd taken the time to redo his paint.

Marvus pulls a hand from his pocket and almost violently tosses dust into Gamzee's face, the shorter troll immediately honking, bending over from the pain.

The Purplebloods hoot and holler, and Gamzee starts to laugh, guiding Karkat to a soft pile of furs; Xia has her own, albeit a bit smaller.

They'd insisted she come, that it's not an intrusion.

"Time for all our festivities to begin, mate of mine." Gamzee says, almost collapsing atop Karkat. He hides his face in his mate's lap, waiting for the pain to fully recede.

That was not normal stardust. Or, rather, it was normal -- it wasn't made from crushed skulls. No wonder it hurts more.

 

Daraya, with a push from Chahut, is the first to approach Karkat. She's both trying to look like she doesn't care whatsoever, and like she has a profound distaste for all of this.

"Hey, I know you don't like me -- which isn't anything out of the ordinary -- and my feelings on you aren't any of your business, but I'm supposed to gift you, or something. Whatever. Dumb clown shit." She rolls her eyes for emphasis, digging into her robes for a moment before producing a small box. The outside is worn wood, lacquered black; clasped with a simple iron twist.

"Here. I know you have literally no fucking aesthetic going on, probably because you're roaming with a load of clowns, but you can at least keep your claws tidy. There's also some black claw lacquer in there." She holds out the box, Chahut chiding her until she holds out the box with both hands .

Apparently, that's important.

 

*

 

He gets a kiss for his troubles, smile brightening as they get up from the ratted armchair-- creaking like it hasn't had someone sit in it for a while, Gamzee taking his hand to bring him back through the caverns.

 

Marvus greets them first when they return, and not only is the gathering area fully decorated but it seems some of the resident Jades are even joining in-- Bronya Karkat can understand, she's probably there as Matron and because Karako, but Lanque and Daraya are a.....surprise.

At least until Gamzee says right after Karkat would be keeping his clothes on-- like there were plans for him to take anything off . Karkat looks between them in blindsided shock, dumbfounded when Marvus throws a handful of glittery dust (stardust, his head supplies) right in Gamzee's face. Karkat freezes up, shutting his eyes and expecting to get a handful of it in his face too. Peeking through one eye as it doesn't happen, instead there's hollered cheers as he's being led by Gamzee who's laughing despite the dust obviously being an issue.

Settled on a pile of soft, plush-like furs, seeing Xia on a similar pile (he bets when they get her back to The Grand Highblood, she'll get a proper celebration for her grub-- probably bigger being his mate; she deserves that and more, having to go through what she did). Gamzee more or less plops down with his face landing in Karkat's lap, and it's not lost on him that his mate is pressing into his thighs a little firmly, what with the stardust.

Even more of a shock is Daraya coming forward, even if it's with a nudge from Chahut. She looks more nervous than however she's probably trying to look, he feels, and more put out that she's doing what she's doing. But she pulls out a worn but lovely box, the lacquer is old but still sleek, holding it out to him.

Briefly, Karkat does consider dismissing her. Gamzee's said to him once that he's soft, and he's right, Karkat is soft , enough that Daraya doing this makes him feel bad. She's probably just that kind of adolescent, actually reminding him of someone from his village.

After a beat, Karkat sighs, glancing at Daraya without any of his ire or malice, "...Y'know, I was being forced into a marriage a while ago-- luckily it didn't happen. But would you believe that they tried to put the ugliest shade of cluck-fowl eggshell on me?? The bloody day-of??? Black is leagues more tastefully aesthetic." With both hands, he gently, gratefully takes the box, offering Daraya one of his brighter, genuine smiles and a soft, "Thank you".

 

 

*

 

"Oh, my God, they were going for fucking chastity and purity, weren't they?" Daraya's smile is less malicious this time, more amused.

"I've literally never met a troll who could pull off eggshell , of all colours. I'd literally rather risk wearing fuschia on my claws than fucking eggshell ." She seems pleased, if not relieved, that her gift was accepted, and quickly scuttles back to Chahut.

Lanque is up next, and Gamzee's managed to blink away the stardust from his eyes.
The male Jadeblood heaves a sigh.

"Yes, yes, we don't like each other. It's just a rehash of what Daraya said, albeit I'm not expecting you to warm up to me. I do expect you, however, to appreciate my gift. Beauty starts from the skin, and, as much as I adore smearing greasepaint all over my face and looking like an absolute trainwreck, conventional looks aren't half-bad." He points to his own face; black lipstick, a tastefully flicked wing of kohl, and jade-green eyeshadow.
His own gift also comes in a box, albeit brand new.

Like Daraya, he presents this with both hands.

"The Empire would cull anyone producing non-hemospectrum compliant cosmetics, but you could probably reach the desired hues with a sun-bleach or two. This has all the basics you need to make-up your face for your mate." While disinterested, he's at least not hostile ; there's even a glint of interest in his gaze.

It seems the non-Purples go first, encouraged by various clowns; Bronya presents Karkat with a salve for stretch marks and healthy skin, while Polypa flounders, dragged up by Xia.

"Come on, you can't brood in the corner the whole day. You've decided to stay, so join in!" She encourages her former palemate, waiting behind her as Polypa reaches into the pocket of her pants.

"Okay, look, I don't have reference or experience for this -- and I'm not happy my palemate was stolen by a bunch of clowns -- but it is what it is." She pulls out a lighter.

"This is, really, the only thing I have to give you. It's called a flame-producing box, although highbloods have some fancy word for it. Here," she demonstrates flipping the metal case open, and producing a flame, "you use it like that, and I can tell you from personal experience that burning is probably the most painful fucking thing on the planet. So..." The lighter fits into her palm, but she still tries to make a proper offer.

Xia comes second-to-last with a fabric sling.

"For the grub." She clarifies.

"If you wear it on your back, you can carry your grub with your hands free. If you wear it over your front, you can nurse your grub while doing other things." The threads of Indigo make a lovely pattern.

"It also holds small pupae." Xia adds before hopping off.

 

Chixie's last, almost shaking in her boots, even with Marvus' confidence behind her.

"Uh... I don't have much, but..." There's a woven moonhat in her hands, offered out as she's seen the other trolls do it.

"I think this would look good on you! It's not very practical, or even very useful, but it's -- I hope it'll come in handy, one day. I, um, don't know for what." She's almost shaking, waiting for her gift to be accepted or rejected; it's pathetic, in her eyes. Everyone else had something useful to give, and she just has a silly hat.

 

*

 

"You should have seen me in the dress. Absolutely horrid . I've seen better from my own backwater village," Kanaya's made at least a dozen, maybe more, wedding gowns for their village alone, nevermind ones she gets commissioned for from outside the village, and every one of them could beat that ugly thing into the ground.

Daraya actually smiles, without anything really behind it but a laugh, and Karkat's internally surprised how easy she is to talk with, once they've started anyway, former hostilities aside.
If he was surprised that Daraya came up, Karkat's nearly stunned when Lanque walks up next, also holding a gift.

Karkat would have to agree, he's got no motivation to warm up to the Jade, but he's civil enough.

If he infers from what Lanque says, his gift is a make-up set. Karkat hasn't worn make-up since that day, but doing his face up is a missed habit; he didn't even do it when he went back to his village, he realizes (of course, he was more concerned with getting back to Gamzee who was full of holes and barely patched up, it hadn't even been a thought).

The box has a shiny newness to it, held out to him with both hands. It's actually a nice, decent thing Lanque's done, whether he'd get it or not, but the set expression on Karkat's face lightens some.

Taking the box again with both hands and thanking him with unfeigned realness.

Even Bronya comes up, and Karkat perks up immensely, thanking her for the salve; thinking to ask her later, along with all the other remedies he wants to ask her for, how to make it.

Polypa, too, though more at Xia's pulling her along. Karkat's only seen others with such a thing-- a lighter , he thinks is what the higher castes call it?? It'd be pretty easy to start a fire with that than sparking rocks or sticks, Karkat accepting it from her with a slight, awed, giddiness.

Xia's is the most practical out of anything; a sling for the grub. It's not much different from the kind the breeders from his village use, though it's less of a sling than a long swathe of swaddling cloth, wrapped around and securing the grub in place. Though a sling would be better for traveling.

"Thank you," he says soft and genuine, even though he knows Xia will probably need it sooner than himself.

His last gift from the non-Indigos comes from Chixie. Poor thing is nearly shaking all over, while in the same manner as everyone else she holds out a moonhat to him, stammering through what she has to say.

Before she ends up collapsing altogether, visibly shaking as she is, Karkat takes the hat with both hands, trying to help her and her nerves out some, "You think so?" The hat fits onto his head, though he'd maybe have to fix the horn holes a little-- later though. Grinning at Chixie and tilting the hat a little, "How is it? Still a village bumpkin? Or do I look just a bit more sophisticated?" Like Marvus said: Village solidarity.

"Thank you, it's great."

 

*

 

Chixie laughs politely, her nervous smile losing some of its edge.

"I think it suits you, Karkat." Marvus calls her back and, with a wave to Karkat, she trots off.

Gamzee's been collecting Karkat's gifts, setting them aside; it fills him with pride to see his mate receive such things. Such useful things.

He's certain that Karkat's feeling it, too; sneakily, Gamzee opens the make-up kit from Lanque. Most things are the lowest shade of Burgundy available, but there is a tube of Indigo lipstick -- and he shuts the box, turning his gaze to Karkat.

"Maybe a brother was too harsh on his earlier assessments." Gamzee ammends, speaking quietly to Karkat.

"It's customary for you -- my miraculous mate -- to be unclothed for all this merriment. Look but don't touch , ain't that the saying?" Gamzee purrs, wondering if Karkat would allow so many trolls to see his body.

Normally, the idea would have Gamzee bristling and hissing -- but they're all being very generous, and, more than that, he'd like to see Karkat.
He tugs on the hem of Karkat's tunic.

"Don't worry none. I'll undress you, as is befitting of the mate. No one'll stick their bulge in you or nothing. Just to let the others lay their gander bulbs on your own righteous self." It's also for them to enjoy Karkat's scent, get half-drunk off it, but Gamzee won't mention that.

 

He's already had his face between Karkat's legs, he doesn't need to gloat about how good his mate smells.

 

A nail lightly scratches the soft, vulnerable underside of Karkat's neck.

"Would you do it for me, Karkat?"

 

*

 

Karkat turns to Gamzee, voice hushed as he speaks while Karkat raises a brow-- only for the smile he has to be frozen stiff on his face, blinking more than he needs to as if that'd either change or make more sense of what his mate is saying.

 

So it was supposed to be a thing, Karkat being naked . Gamzee just said it was customary , like, it's a damn fucking thing .

 

".......I thought...I was keeping my clothes on..," he says meekly but his voice is tight; if he had any inkling he'd have to be bare in front of people , Karkat would have tried to wheedle his way out of any kind of party.

Heck , he's got half a mind to bolt now . He's sure Gamzee means to have him die early by having him do such a thing. Shit, Karkat may as well ascend right in the moment, it certainly feels like his soul could leave his body right then.

"...I don't... gotta ...do I??"
Back home, sure, a party or celebration might be thrown, but no one expects the breeder to undress -- it's rude on both sides-- yet here, it might be rude if he doesn't.

Gamzee doesn't spare him in trying, and nothing he says really makes him feel any better about it. Karkat should say no, a full, flat, no.

His mate asks, would Karkat do it for him.

 

....Swallowing thickly against Gamzee's claw, Karkat gives a slight, shaky reluctant nod.

 

*

 

The look Karkat gives him is absolutely hilarious, and it takes Gamzee a minute to keep himself from bursting out into laughter.
He knows he says dumb shit -- but, surely, it wasn't that dumb.

"How 'bout I make you wanna take off your clothes, then?" He scratches his mate under the chin, aware of a few trolls watching them -- mainly waiting to give their gifts.

"It'll be the only time, outside of our ceremony, where we'll be able to do everything and anything, and no one'll come after us for being mated. Enjoy it ." He stands, leaving his mate with a shoulder-to-shoulder caress.

While he's gone, Karako's the first up, a hint of purple betraying his otherwise demure demeanour as he holds out a glass of... thick liquid.

"Bronya taught me to make a drink for breeders. It nourishes the grub. I have the recipe, but I thought -- " he trails off with a quiet chirr, perking up as Gamzee, bowl of steaming broth in one hand, plucks the glass from Karako's smaller hands.

"Praise be, Brother Karako. Parchment'd serve as well, probably." He sets the bowl down and upends half the thick liquid into his mouth, Karako looking like he wants to jump Gamzee, honking in confusion.

Chahut bursts into her version of maniacal laughter when Gamzee, mouth full of this odd concoction, grabs Karkat's chin and kisses him deeply.

"Cull me now!" She laughs, while Gamzee deepens the kiss, feeding Karkat the drink.
He tugs gently on his mate's hair, urging him to swallow.

When he pulls back, thumbing his lips clean, he settles down right beside Karkat.

"Was gonna do that with your favourite drink, but that'll satisfy a motherfucker, won't it? Only right you eat from my nutrient gash, ain't it?" He chuckles, Lanque looking slightly too interested in the sight.

"Want more?"

 

*

 

Why did that sound like a threat?

No , threats shouldn't sound like that , like Gamzee was trying to invoke heat into his very core.

Karkat shouldn't feel both aroused and uneasy, spots of red on his cheeks as he eyes his mate leaving the block, fretful and incredulous. Trying to corral the blood in his face goes as well as expected, which is not at all, color still there as Karako comes forward.

For Karako, Karkat allows his face to soften. He looks the age his height would have others believe he is, especially with that dusting of lavender across his cheeks. Karkat wonders if he's nervous or embarrassed, or rather hoping he wouldn't need to talk to Karkat for a while; he wouldn't fault him for it.

He's even curious about the drink as Karako explains to him about it, despite looking as it does that it's supposed to help the grub-- like a preovulate tonic?? ....though it doesn't look very tonic-y. But Karkat's interested anyway, thinking if he could maybe write down the recipe, if Karako would tell him.

 

Karkat may as well have honked with him the way Gamzee comes back, though even more confused, taking the offered glass right out of the other's hands-- more so that he drinks it.

More so , as soon as Karkat actually realizes what he means to do, quickly becoming flustered, barely shaking his head and shrinking back, though it's apparent it does nothing to stop Gamzee.

Making frantic, tittering chirps as the almost viscous liquid is moved mouth-to-mouth. A hand tries pushing Gamzee back, but eventually gives up, hardly even tasting the concoction as it moves down his throat, Karkat having little choice but to swallow. By the end of it his pupils are dazed and wide, not that anyone sees since as soon as Gamzee pulls back, Karkat has some sense left to shut his eyes tight and cover his face with his hands, flush so red he almost glowers with it, visibly steaming a part of the cavern as he mumbles half nonsense, half admonishment into his hands.

 

*

 

Gamzee chitters, leaning in where Karkat tries to make some distance.

"Open up your face and thank Brother Karako properly." He falsely admonishes, although Karako does stay there, evidently not dismissed.

If Karkat's the main attraction, then Gamzee's his keeper.

"It took him a lotta courage to up and come to you after you both been feeling so bad on one 'nother -- and this shit don't taste too bad. Kind'a like herbs." He swirls the liquid in the glass, loving the sound of Chahut's laughter.

Even Karako, guilty as he feels, allows his shoulders to drop.

He honks a few times, inquisitively, and Gamzee chuckles.

"I know a few ways of getting his hands off his face, but you saw his eyes earlier. Looking at me like I said some blasphemous shit, ready to cull him and his ilk." His arm wraps around Karkat's shoulder, and he pulls the soft, warm troll to hide side.

"You wanna taste it from someone else's mouth? How 'bout Marvus? He ain't got no interest in quadrants, but a lil' quadrant-adjacent kiss? We shared those all the time." Never on the lips, but Karkat doesn't need to know that.

"Chahut'd do it, too, y'know. Or, your taste more like... Brother Kurloz? Anyone outside the caravan exempt; they ain't getting their fronds or gashes on you." Gamzee can't believe he's offering to let another troll kiss his mate.
He nudges Karkat's leg with his foot, trilling for attention.

"C'mon, them or me. You gotta finish Brother Karako's gift and thank him all proper."

 

*

 

He's... right , but still . Pulling a thing like that on him, Karkat could just die right there, just so that he doesn't have to see anyone after this.

Because, he means, how the fuck was he supposed to look anyone in the eye after this!?

Gamzee has been lucky so far, other trolls have been introduced to his right hook for far less; today might be the day, even if Karkat knows it's his own hand that'll break for it.

 

When Gamzee posits that Karkat gets the drink given to him, in the same manner, by someone else, he's nothing less than confounded and frustrated. Throws out Marvus, Chahut, Kurloz -- as much as Kurloz puts him off, Karkat considers throwing that back at him, just to annoy Gamzee for doing this to him, at the least Kurloz wouldn't pull dumb shit.....but Karkat doesn't know that for sure so he doesn't voice it --, lowering his hands enough to throw Gamzee a flustered, frustrated glare. The look musters up every ounce of himself to convey his humiliation if it were not for the natural laws of this land, Gamzee would have been slain, but since he can't do much about it, he's going to get his revenge another way.

 

Just wait , Gamzee.

 

Karkat can't even imagine what might be going on in Karako's head; is this how this kind of thing was expected to be? Even Chahut isn't minding as much as he thought she would, so perhaps on some level?

Thoughts aside, it's clear Karako won't be able to get away from the display until he's thanked-slash-dismissed.

 

Well. Fine.

 

Karkat gets the glass from Gamzee, still flushed red as he tilts the contents into his mouth with both hands. The taste is truly not that bad, now that he actually tastes it. There are herbs in it, even smells similar to some kind of preovulate medicine, even if it is kind of thick. Karkat downs the rest of it, taking a deep breath after swallowing nonstop; at least this , he can apologize to Karako for.
If he can't take Gamzee down with him, well...

He's still close enough to reach, and poor guy probably didn't think he'd be dragged into anything but Karkat's stubbornness when upset knows no bounds. Still steaming, maybe even worse, when he plants one at the corner of Karako's mouth, more on the cheek than his lips but still. Only stays long enough to be a viable kiss, face impossibly redder and now he feels the blush down the rest of his body, releasing Karako, "..Thank you."

 

Can't get any more proper than that.

 

*

 

Karkat is so impossibly cute, steaming, red enough to colour his entire face.

Gamzee's sure it goes beneath the collar of his tunic, perhaps to his chest.

"There we go," he says, Karako chirping loudly in surprise, "wasn't so difficult, was it, mate of mine?" Gamzee stands, bends, and presses his lips to the corner of Karako's own; leaving his own affection on the other side of the younger troll's lips.

Karako, for his part, flushes deeply beneath his paint, looking bashful as he honks, bows, and promptly scuttles back to Bronya's side.

The Jadeblood, for her part, takes her charge beneath her arm to allow him to recover.

 

Kurloz is next, slinking up to Karkat.
In his gloved hands is a fuzzy white muff.

"Between dismantling the heathen's finery, I've been making some cold weather wear for you. Eventually," Gamzee fixes Kurloz with a bored gaze, leaning heavily, possessively, against his mate, "we'll be back North, and you'll need to keep warm. This is for your hands." He offers the muff, and though Gamzee looks like he couldn't care less, he speaks up suddenly.

"What do you think of my mate?" The question catches Kurloz off-guard, the older Indigoblood looking at Gamzee.

"Karkat is a fine mate." He's obviously choosing his words carefully.

"So, you ain't been spending all your time huffing his stink off that dress, motherfucker? I know that fabric reeks." The only tell, from Kurloz, is the slight straightening of his spine.

"I noticed the scent of the dress. I assume Karkat smells as lovely as any other breeder." Kurloz says, surprisingly cool.
Of course, Gamzee knows exactly how to get right under his skin.

"Kiss Karkat." He smiles, a malicious and mischievous expression.

"He never got to choose which one of us was his mate, and he's only been carrying for a few nights. If a kiss from you is better than a kiss from me," Gamzee's attention swings to Karkat, desire and greed mixing in his piercing gaze, "then you take him. That's fair, isn't it, Karkat? Kiss him."

 

*

 

Now he feels even worse for Karako, Gamzee playing up and kissing him on his other cheek; but as he thought before, at least this he can apologize for.

If Karako can even look at Karkat, and vice versa, after this.

Hardly any of his blush goes away, not even when Kurloz stalks up next with a gift as well. His gift is surprisingly thoughtful, and practical, but he's more surprised that Kurloz put that much thought into it. That Karkat would need to keep warm when they actually head to northside, a pretty white muff-- they live in warmer parts but he knows what that is thanks to Kanaya's shop.

For that, he's, maybe, a little touched, personal feelings aside.

Before Karkat can even accept it or anything, Gamzee has the sudden need and reason to, what it looks and sounds like, start some shit up. It's the first time Karkat's ever seen that calm composure crack, even minutely, but it's still unnecessary, Gamzee asking his blood sibling what he thought of Karkat, digging , more like.

It's another blindside when he throws out for Kurloz to kiss him.

Karkat's head just about snaps toward Gamzee, flaring hotly (it seems like this day is going to be mostly that, all of his blood rushing to the surface of his skin and Karkat enduring whatever his mate tries to throw at him) and absolutely vexed that he would suggest such a dare-- demand , it feels like.

He can't talk for all of a few moments-- Gamzee's done it again, rendered him somehow wordless when Karkat always has words --, trying to work his mouth through disbelief. Can't even think with the unthinkable being said.

 

*

 

"Purrbeast got your tongue?" Gamzee meets Karkat's gaze, impishly smiling.

"Y'know, it's so cute how you can act all bashful when you took my bulge and asked for more. Get too excited, and all your reason goes out the window -- whatever type of excitement that may be." He pushes his finger into Karkat's soft cheek, chuckling.

"Maybe you'd like my blood brother better," Gamzee continues, now running his finger over Karkat's lips, "'cause he don't do 'stupid shit' what'll make you blink at him. And have you seen the motherfucker's fangs?" His long, cool digits find their way past Karkat's lips, into the mutant's hot mouth; Gamzee daring Karkat to bite him with a quiet rumble.

Kurloz is staring, with dedication, at his own hands.

Making sure his digits are coated in Karkat's saliva, Gamzee makes a show of slowly pulling his hand free.
When he chirps for Kurloz's attention, he holds out his clean hand for the muff.

"I'm sure my mate got words for you, but he's having some motherfucking trouble at the moment. Culture shock." Holding out his sullied hand, Kurloz seems to know what to do without anything needing to be said.

The older troll takes Gamzee's hand delicately by the wrist, and cleans his fingers of Karkat's saliva.

 

Gamzee chuckles behind his other hand, definitely not the only one enjoying the sight -- and, once he's finished, Gamzee leans back into Karkat.

"What do I gotta do," suddenly, roughly, he pulls Karkat onto his lap, "to get under your clothes?" He kisses a cheek, then nibbles the curve of Karkat's jaw, nosing along his neck.

"Don't you wanna show everyone the beautiful, miraculous body what's carrying our grub? Lanque didn't mean it when he called you fat, and if you want me to go smack a motherfucker over the head for it, I will."

Kurloz, probably flushing under his impeccable face paint, murmurs.

"It would be as is tradition, and Karkat is... attractive."

"Arousing." Gamzee retorts, lips grazing his mate's pulse.

"I haven't -- I wouldn't touch your mate without express permission of both you and your mate, and I don't entertain fantasies." Kurloz is beginning to crack, and Gamzee's started playing with Karkat's ear, leaving kisses along his neck.

"Whatever helps you sleep during the day -- not that we'll be sleeping today. Now," Gamzee's gaze flickers to his mate, his face dusted lavender through his smeared paint, "does my mate wanna take off his tunic? Or his hose? What comes off first? Do I gotta mess with you and all my precious Brothers and Sisters more?"

Notes:

Sometimes, or most of the time now, I wonder if *I* had actually been the problem. If it was just me, one-sidedly, who thought everything was fine when it actually wasn't. Just like it's me one-sidedly reaching, but no one is reaching back. The fragile threads that tethered us have already been severed and I'm the only one grasping at the frayed ends. Maybe it's just me who was the issue. Maybe I'm the only one hurting by myself.

I don't know, you're not here to tell me.

Even so, I'm holding tightly to this small fragment of hope, as if anything will come of it. Full risk, no reward. Like a life trial and after suffering for a bit I'm supposed to come out better than I was, or have achieved a result. If that's the case though, this is unexpectedly cruel.

Please be well.

Chapter 22: Jubilations Unto Thee

Notes:

Once again, here you started to give me another 'and then it all started to go downhill', lol. Would you remember? I told you this was an rp that I had actually shed the most tears over, I hadn't done one that made me feel so viscerally as my rps with you. Even so, we still got some pretty wholesome scenes out of them, despite everything going wrong when given the opportunity.

Karkat has every reason to deck him one good right now, feeling more upset than bashful (if Xia has to deal with this but older, then he takes it back, she deserves something more peaceful and less humiliating).

Gamzee prods and trails over his face, thumbing at his lips while unsparingly talking about things that don't need to reach the ears they reach. Squeaking when digits press past his lips, rubbing over his tongue in a way that feels like he's trying to coat them entirely in Karkat's spit; sliding against the edge of his teeth (Karkat's fangs only come to a pointed blunt , he'd have to put a lot of force into a bite if he wanted to pierce the skin, do more than just hurt ).

It's completely unnecessary, from the way Gamzee's messing around to how slowly he's dragging his fingers from his mouth, slick with translucent red. Gesturing for the muff with the clean hand before holding out the one he had dipped in Karkat's saliva, Karkat tensing rigid at how Kurloz just takes each coated digit into his mouth without being truly prompted; the sight is....Karkat doesn't even want to think it it's the kind of thing he'd read .

Gamzee pulls him the moment Kurloz has finished into his lap, grip rather rough and words close at his ear, lips on his cheek and wandering to his jaw, just keeps going on over his flushed skin while still speaking with Kurloz, who's usual put-togetherness isn't there. Making the barest of movements to shake his head, Gamzee over his pulse (his version of 'smack' is likely different than Karkat's, and Lanque's just given him a gift, he'd rather his pretty head not be rolling on the floor just yet), coming to a few realizations at once-- that Kurloz hid back a lot more than he let on, and that...there's likely only one way to put a halt on most of this.

Hopefully.

Karkat shakily, decisively, tugs up the hem of his shirt, his leggings pulled all the way up to his chest; if he isn't dead of shame by the end of this, he's taking full vengeance on Gamzee.

 

*

 

The purr building in Gamzee's throat stutters as he takes in Karkat's choice of clothing.

From across the room, Zhen pipes up.

"What the motherfuck is that ?!" Despite an irritated series of clicks from Xia, the Purpleblood looks like she wants to walk right up to Karkat and rip his leggings off -- and not in a sexual manner.

Gamzee, on the other hand, just takes a moment to regard his mate before burrowing back into his neck; now able to curl over his sloped shoulders, and pepper him with more gentle, insistent affections.

 

Chahut takes the initiative to come up next, amusement and pride showing freely on her painted features. There's beauty there, normally hidden behind bland expressions and slow words.

"Never knew His descendant had so much adoration in his carapace... Shameless motherfucker." If Gamzee hears her light admonishment, he doesn't react, too busy stroking, kissing, and nipping every inch of newly-exposed skin.

"Anyway," Chahut fishes out her gift, "a Sister doesn't know how much a Brother enjoys himself the finer things in life..." In her palms sits a necklace -- not a pendant, but a series of preserved troll fangs, pierced and woven through. The fabric is an intricate braid of Indigo and sun-bleached Burgundy.

"It wouldn't offend a bitch if this ain't the most appealin'... You're lookin' ready to lash out. Might be time for refreshments..." A quick call to Daraya has the Jadeblood trotting off, returning with a large, green melon.

 

At the nape of Karkat's neck, Gamzee parts his lips, grabbing excess skin and just holding it; he'd do the same to Karkat's throat, but even that is too intimate for this.

He plans to do it later, though; just to see what Karkat does.

"Wondrous jewellery, Sister Chahut." Gamzee murmurs, lips dragging along Karkat's hot skin.

He feels like he's burning up, fingertips skimming Karkat's collarbones.

"Don't you want me?" He whispers into his mate's ear, arousal deepening his voice.

"Why are you so upset, mate of mine? I love you so." He recites the confession in Beforian; Alternian doesn't really have the right word he's looking for.

Mate and Mated come close -- something transcending quadrants -- but it doesn't imply the same attachment, the same affection, as Beforian.

In fact, Gamzee's found Beforian to be much more varied in its terms for relationships.

 

Chahut's ears twitch, and she blinks.

"You don't meant that... do you?" She questions, prompting Gamzee to pull himself minutely from Karkat. His pupils are blown, his greasepaint smeared.

"Wouldn't say it if I didn't, Chahut. 'Sides, already said it after we mated." Gamzee rests his cheek on Karkat's bare shoulder, hearing Chahut chirr quietly to herself.

 

*

 

Karkat would normally be glad that Zhen seems lucid, it's just that when she yells out it feels like everyone else is too, at him, like he's done something wrong.

He supposes he is, that he's not doing this , whatever this was supposed to be, right.

It'd been nice if Gamzee had explained some. At least a little more, it's one of those things that Karkat needs some explanation on after all, some extra help.

Can't just drop bombs on him in the middle of shit and expect him to comply like it's not a big deal; can't say first thing ' he's keeping his clothes on ' and then turn around and tell him to strip naked in front of a literal crowd.

Karkat doesn't want to cry, but it's starting to feel like that, it's either cry or yell, and Karkat will be the selfish overgrown pupa either way. Both would ruin the whole thing and he's already ruined enough, hasn't he?

Even Chahut's slow, comforting presence doesn't bring so much of that, and her gift is really nice, even if he recognizes that it's a collection of other trolls' fangs. Karkat shakes his head, telling her as evenly as he can that the piece is lovely.

Getting his neck scruffed has him freeze up first before his body tells him to hold still so his Lusus can pick him up-- ignoring it altogether because Gamzee certainly isn't his Lusus and doesn't that just add to his humiliation.

Even so, Gamzee continues pressing over his skin, but Karkat feels so fever hot he barely feels his coolness wrapped around him. Hears him too, especially when foreign words pass his lips (sound almost like the song stuck in his dreams but...) (he wants to ask Gamzee what it means, but he can barely find his voice); given Chahut's questioning, they must mean something significant and heavy.

He takes a slow, silent inhale, holding it before letting it out just as silently. When his voice does finally come, Karkat whispers, almost too quiet that he may as well be mouthing words, but they're only for Gamzee to hear anyway. "....I'm sorry. I'm ruining it-- I'm being selfish and ruining it, aren't I..," his hands are unsteady, grasping at the top of his leggings and quaking so bad as he tries to move them down.

 

*

 

"Nah, not even a bit." Gamzee pulls away enough to look at Karkat, at his pathetic attempts to roll down the high hem of his leggings.

Chahut takes the initiative to return to the table, grabbing her axe. She splits the melon with a quick thunk , bisecting its green exterior to betray its lush, red interior.

Xia flushes, watching the troll hack off pieces of varying size and thickness, then handing them out based on some arbitrary system of order.

Gamzee's cool palm finds Karkat's cheek, thumb stroking over his cheekbone.

"Does any motherfucker look like they ain't having a good time? Karako's so pleased with himself, he's stuck right into Bronya's side and sipping some precious elixir like it ain't no damn thing." He contnues stroking Karkat's cheek, tittering quietly at him.

"You're just too motherfucking nervous, mate of mine. What? You think we're gonna cull you or kick you from the caravan just 'cause y'don't know all our ways? Nah -- I just want you to trust me." Leaning back, Gamzee guides Karkat's head to rest over his breast.

 

Chahut comes up to them with a large slice of fruit.

"Aw," she purrs, "ain't you two sweet? Supposin' it's only natural... when you overwhelm the Little One with everything... that his mate looks after him as is righteous and proper." She leaves them the piece of fruit, which Gamzee picks up and holds for Karkat.

"Have some," it's an offer, not a demand, "shit's the motherfucking best." He keeps Karkat cuddled up to him while Chahut lets the remaining Indgobloods know the resident breeder needs a break -- and she makes a point of going over to Zhen, although all they do is glower at each other, sizing one another up before deciding a fight isn't worth it.

 

More elixir is brought out and distributed, Bronya having evidently acquired a taste for it while Lanque and Daraya just take sips; Polypa takes a single sip due to Xia's prodding, and the Limeblood laughs when her ex-palemate bristles at the pungent, sugary taste.

Chixie takes the time to chat with Marvus, and the twins occupy themselves by chatting and playing Slide.

 

"I want you to wanna let everyone see you. Take pride in what you are, what you got inside you, and how you look. If you're gonna have tears in your oculars, then this's 'nough." He didn't want to humiliate Karkat -- not so much he'd cry, anyway -- even if he can imagine kissing those pale red gems off his cheeks while he sobs.

"Just do what you feel's right. I'm here to protect you, above everything. I. Love. You. So." He places emphasis on each syllable, rumbling quietly as he says it.
Gamzee never thought he'd have anyone to say it to, even if he'd gotten his hands on a mate.

 

*

 

He's already convinced in his head that he's messed things up, that it takes a bit for him to register the touch, gentle hand on his cheek finally getting Karkat's attention. It's not so much that Karkat's nervous, not knowing their ways or what to do-- but that is part of it, and he is nervous as fuck, and again, it'd been nice of Gamzee to explain a bit beforehand.

Exposing himself for Gamzee is one thing; doing it for everyone else to see him is an entire other thing.

Admittedly, he wasn't putting much trust in Gamzee. Not with his mate messing with him like he was (messing with him while Karkat didn't have any confidence to do anything back).

At the very least, some things subside when he's pulled against slow, steady heart pumps.

 

Chahut has cut up a sweet-fleshed melon, the insides may as well be the same red as Karkat (though it's probably supposed to fit, being that he's Red like that). Passing out pieces to everyone, one to him and Gamzee as well. Even feeling like he does, Karkat can't outright tell himself he doesn't want any when Gamzee offers it to him-- it smells sweet, he can't fight that very well --, gingerly taking a bite from the very tip, the sugar smoothing some nerves away.

Everyone takes to talking amongst themselves, and with that Karkat feels himself relaxing more; less eyes put on him and making him feel less overwhelming pressure. Even the quake to his whole self has ebbed off, being replaced by more and more calm with Gamzee's pusher.

 

Karkat has always taken some pride in being a mutant, even if there isn't much to be had on that front; as a breeder, it was something to make him warier of things that other trolls didn't need to be. He was a troll that needed others to rely on because he wasn't that capable on his own (although, he'd beg to differ; he lasted pretty well on his own when Gamzee left him to take Cronus Ampora's head).

His mate telling him to take pride in himself-- that Gamzee would protect him before anything else --brings some kind of comfort. He says that phrase again, sounding it out like it'd enforce the meaning on Karkat.

"...You've said that to me before, haven't you..?" Karkat asks, cheek pressing into Gamzee's chest.

They're on an intermission of fruit and elixir drink, everyone chatting amongst themselves, attentions elsewhere. Karkat, by the time he's had enough of the melon piece, is further from the verge of tears with a bit more resolve set in. The thought of being bare in front of too many eyes still sits uneasily with him, but when wouldn't it?

It's supposed to be a custom, so he should at least do it once before saying he never wants to do it at all. "I..should try at least once, I think...," he says to Gamzee, taking advantage of being held against him, shifting down his leggings before he can lose to his nerves again, "I have to try at least once, before saying I can't do it at all, yeah?"

 

*

 

Honey attracts more flies than vinegar, and he supposes the same applies to Karkat; being sweet with him, holding him close and petting him, gives him enough courage to undress.
At least, furthering his state of undress.

Gamzee chirrs, nodding.

"Said it to you first time we mated, said it to you earlier, and just said it now." The cool flat of his palm roams the expanse of Karkat's back, but he refrains from groping his mate's ass -- as much as he wants to, that'll probably send Karkat spiraling again.

"It means... It's got words in it what Alternian don't, but love is kind'a like... mate." Gamzee's sure most other trolls would have better explanations, but Karkat belongs to him .

"Mates don't really stick in one quadrant, right? They fuck red as your blood, but get pale just as fast, and hiss at each other -- maybe even slip into ashen, sometimes -- and that whole thing's what love means. Kind'a. I ain't no expert on this none." Karkat's back is smooth, the dip of his waist prominent; Gamzee allows his hand to skim the mutant's behind before settling on his thigh.

"When I say ' I love you so ', I'm saying that... we're mated, and I'm expressing how I feel on you in all quadrants." Marvus is the first troll to break their little bubble, Gamzee's arms winding around Karkat -- more for the mutant than out of possessive jealousy.

"Glad you're warmin' up to this wicked lifestyle, Phat Kat." Although he does look at Karkat, his gaze doesn't linger; there's a distinct lack of the wanton desire in him.

Gamzee has enough for all the trolls in the room, even if Kurloz is sipping Faygo and trying to forget the idea of kissing Karkat.

"Warms my dead, ol' pusher to see you two motherfuckers gettin' all vaciliated. Healthy mateship starts with that nasty business." He takes the used rinds and walks off, depositing them into a growing trash pile.

Gamzee's hand runs the length of Karkat's thigh, his nails dragging lightly over soft, incredibly thin skin.

"Oh," he leans in, lips to Karkat's ear, "Marvus got no interest in quadrants, or trolls in general." He reclines, thumbing Karkat's pantyline.

"He'll get clade all night, but you ain't gotta worry on him wanting in your nook. Even with all your pretty, breeder charm." Gamzee trills, stealing a quick kiss.

 

*

 

Gamzee says part of it again-- it does have a similar sound to that song stuck in his head, Karkat picks up on that.

 

Some of the sear to his skin has even faded, enough that he can tell Gamzee's hands are on him, chilled and smoothing over newly exposed flesh.

Karkat nods, he gets it, how between him and Gamzee their quadrants don't seem to have those clear-cut lines between them-- how when they'd mated, all through pale pile talk Gamzee had taken to keeping his hand over Karkat's chest, squeezing at the palmful of flesh there and teased the bud until they'd crossed over into red territory. Vacillation, but not really; can't be vacillation if they're like that.

Mates beyond quadrants is not lost on him. Karkat's got at least four books where that is the prevailing theme, with two of them being his favorites.

Hearing Gamzee say the phrase again flips something over inside him, a light thrum starting in Karkat's throat, ".... Could you teach me? How to say it?" he asks just as Marvus comes near. Marvus doesn't look at him like...well, like anything. He's as friendly as ever, and only comes to talk and take the finished rinds.

Gamzee whispers to his ear, how Marvus doesn't have those interests, in a mate or in quadrants. Karkat raises a brow until the understanding hits him-- but that sort of halts any ideas he had for Chixie (drat, so much for that). He supposes Gamzee is more relieved about Marvus not wanting in his nook (in a way, Karkat is too, somewhat), squeaking (notably less distressed) as he takes a kiss.
It's just his panties left now, Karkat doesn't miss Gamzee's hand skimming the edge of the fabric before settling to stroke along his thigh. This is already....his chest is bare, budded nipples already trying to go stiff; if his panties come off, that sugar scent will come and maybe hit strong, maybe that's just in his head, Karkat doesn't know for sure knows that Gamzee likes it that much that he's easily affected.

Karkat quietly fidgets, sucking in his lip, fingers slipping under the line and back out. Gamzee said he'd be the one undressing him earlier, customary as his mate, customary for Karkat to be fully exposed. It would just need to slide over the curve of his hips, down his thighs, his hands moving on their own in slow movements, already acting out his thoughts.

 

*

 

"Sure thing, mate of mine." Gamzee chitters, fingers following Karkat's slow movements, helping him along; rolling down his panties until they're at the knee, past the knee, and then dropped onto the floor.

With Karkat fully exposed, it's difficult not to grab and grope at him; he wants to sink a hand between his mate's plush thighs and finger him. No one would do anything about it -- not any of the Purplebloods, anyway.

It's his right, as long as Karkat accepts him -- and Karkat has accepted him. The evidence is in his body.

"I." He says the first word, waiting for Karkat to repeat it.

"Love." Again.

"You." His pupils are blown wide, his lap opening up to allow his mate to lounge comfortably.

"So. " He ends.

"I love you so. Like that. Can't go using it on just no one, though. Wouldn't say it to -- well, to no motherfucker but me. Wouldn't make much sense, you feel me?" Gamzee chuckles, already up in the clouds -- and he hasn't even had any elixir.

 

When it seems Karkat's calmed down, Marvus returns, bowing to the couple.

"Praise be, bitches. Thought Phat Kat was gonna wreck some kind'a violence on you, Brother of mine." Although Karkat's sugar-scent easily wafts out, Bronya casually averting her eyes while Daraya chirps at Chahut, Marvus is calm as ever.

He offers out two rings, polished to a shine -- but not gold, or any other expensive metal.

"We ain't in the fashion of bein' fashionable, which might be its own fashion when you think 'bout it, but it don't hurt to match your mate. Maybe hang it from your clothes. Know a motherfucker in town who'll bedazzle this shit right the fuck up -- engrave it, I mean. The bedazzler..." He shrugs, and Gamzee assumes whoever this troll was died.

Nonetheless, he trills, looking up to one of the three trolls that raised him.

"That shit looks real nice, don't it, Karkat?" Gamzee purrs, wrapped possessively around his mate.

 

*

 

Chilled fingers join over his, helping move the fabric along; breath barely hitching as Gamzee's longer reach takes over, sliding Karkat's panties down and down, off and dropped to the floor.

".. I ," His mate sounds out each word, pausing for Karkat to repeat and follow, ".. love...you..so ," he winds up leaning into Gamzee, head tilted toward him to let him look up. The phrase, as it's explained, is not meant for anyone else but a mate-- his mate, not a phrase he can use at just anyone. Karkat repeats it, on the verge of sounding like an overexcited pupa, a touch of giddiness making flutters in his stomach.

There's still some nervous energy-- it can't just go away like that --but it's not the kind that overwhelms him, makes Karkat feel every type of bad (that out-of-placeness, feeling like he's doing everything wrong). He's considerably feeling better than before, that aside.

Marvus comes toward them next, bowing with a kind of grace that's all Marvus' own, his remark having Karkat glance away (he did have the intention to). Holding out his gift of two polished rings, though they're not made from metal, Karkat wondering between wood or another material. Whatever they're made from, those rings also have some thought put into them, Marvus explaining that they could get the rings engraved-- having taken back bedazzled, Karkat can only imagine that something must have happened to the troll that took them out of the bedazzling business.

Gamzee purrs and seems to coil around him, making it a little awkward to hold his hands out to accept the rings, humming in affirmation. They could be ceremony bands, if they wanted-- if they didn't do something else for that, but still.

Karkat is still quite flushed, being stark naked does that to a troll, but not bright flaring red that makes the entire area around him hot, finding some confident nerve from somewhere to smile and properly receive the gift, "Thank you, Marvus."

 

*

 

"Honour's all mine, Phat Kat." Marvus smiles lazily, and saunters back off to Chixie.

Gamzee's absolutely pleased, on the verge of preening -- Karkat's Beforian accent isn't half bad, and he could listen to his mate repeat the phrase again and again.

Zhen's one of the last trolls to come up, made-up in her fine clothes. She still looks small, but her gaze is sharp.

"Here," she holds a bundle of cloth in her arms, "I've modified one of the Jade gowns. Since I don't have your measurements, I just took a few guesses, but the seams in the waist can be let out when you become more gravid." Zhen holds out the dress; she's shortened the hem considerably -- about to Karkat's knee -- and nipped in the waist. The sleeves have been left as-is.

"I didn't have enough time to find a matching sash, but your mate's sash would suffice." She adds, the neck embroidered in black thread; a fine pattern.

It was all she had time to do after waking up, purging her system of sopor, and then slowly becoming cognizant of her surroundings.

It wasn't terribly surprising to hear Karkat was carrying -- she heard them, after all.

"Don't think this is the extent of my work." She warns, "I made this on short notice with less-than-desirable materials. If it doesn't fit, let me know. I still need your measurements for a proper dress."

Gamzee hums, a hand settling low over Karkat's stomach, where he'd felt their grub earlier.

"You'd look real nice in that, Karkat." He whispers, eyeing Zhen.
It's a shame she has panrot; she's such a sharp troll, otherwise. Cutthroat. He supposes she has to be, given her stature.

 

*

 

Karkat perks up when Zhen comes forward, if only because he's glad to see that she's in a sharper state, shouting at him aside much better than seeing her wholly submerged in sopor, unmoving.

Her dress, or maybe it's just her on her own, makes each movement carry an elegance with it, makes Karkat wish he could have seen Kanaya make a dress with the silks she's collected (wishes she could be here, or him there, but that's not really an option right now) (besides, there would have only been another fight, probably).

Zhen presents the bundled fabric with her good hand, stumped wrist supporting, letting it unfurl into a dress, modified, as she said, from a cloister robe..

Even if it used to be a cloister robe, it certainly doesn't look like one now; the neck has been under a needle, a delicate pattern made in black shiny thread. It's been shortened and the waist has a shape to it, the sleeves left long. It shares style with Xia's, though it's it's own piece; Zhen is still a formidable screamstress even one-handed, to do this much in such a short frame of time.

Karkat's really just touched that she went through the trouble at all.

"You think so?" he gives Gamzee a breath of a laugh, cool hand smoothing over soft flesh. Though, Karkat has reason to think he could wear most things and Gamzee might say he'd look nice in it (even that monstrosity of a wedding dress still drew his eyes where it wanted. But that thing had no credit to brag about, since Karkat made it look good).

"Thank you, Zhen. It's beautiful ." Karkat has no doubt in his mind that if she had long enough and everything she needed, Zhen could make a piece to topple towers.

He takes it graciously with both hands, hardly looks anything like the nervous wreck he'd been earlier.

 

*

 

"Thank-you." Zhen preens, as much as she cares to, bandaged wrist tapping her blackened lips.

"Could I feel your thorax?" Gamzee chirrs, but moves his hand.

Zhen steps forward, her smaller hand resting on Karkat's stomach.

"If you haven't been carrying long, then the grubling should be right... here..." Her fingers sink into soft flesh, prodding and probing, until she locates the firm lump on her own.
The Indigoblood chirps in surprise.

"That's larger than I thought it'd be."

Hearing this, Xia jumps up, coming over with curiosity in her eyes.

"Is it? How large was mine?" Zhen tries to feel out the general shape and size of the grubling.

"I couldn't even find yours -- could probably find it now." She retorts, gingerly patting Karkat's stomach before pulling away.

Xia paps Zhen's forehead.

"You'll be able to find it now. Look." She turns sideways, her fitted dress revealing that her once-flat stomach now has a slight bump to it.

"Oh," Zhen tries to touch her, getting her hand swatted away, "I just want to check!" She clicks.

"The grub looks like it's sitting much lower this time. That's good. Karkat's grubling is low, too -- but that doesn't mean much. It could end up at the top of his reproductive sphere in a perigee." Her ears twitch, the Limeblood loosely crossing her arms over her stomach.

"Go tell that to Chahut. She's the oldest. As far as I've seen, Bronya has theoretical advice, and not much experience with carrying breeders."

Clicking, Zhen praises Karkat, and walks off.

Xia turns back to Karkat, offering a smile.

"She's always more concerned than she lets on." An apologetic shrug, and Xia goes on her way.

That just leaves the twins, who hop up to Karkat and each take one of the mutant's hands.

"We don't have a real gift for you," Barzum starts, "but we found something really cool!" Baizli finishes the thought, and though he trusts the twins, Gamzee gets to his feet.

He keeps up a mantra of 'careful', following the twins deep into the caves before coming to a cavern quietly holding the sound of running water.

The moss which grows from the running pool is radiant in a dull, comforting white, the twins gesturing to this.

"We found a miracle!" Baizli insists.

"Or it's just a... nature pheromone." Barzum replies.

" Natural phenomenon ." Baizli corrects Barzum, the two of them trying and failing to stifle their giggles.
Gamzee's arm slips around his mate's bare waist, his purr matching the ebb and flow of his respiration.

"Ain't that neat?"

 

*

 

"O-Oh, yeah....," Zhen comes closer, her hand replacing Gamzee's on his stomach. She presses into the pudge, feeling out his flesh until she finds, presumably, his grub (at this stage, using finer sciences, his grub should still be in an ovum sac, not even a grub yet; just sitting attached to the chamber wall, in order to absorb what it needs from Karkat to grow), telling him it's already bigger than what she thought.

Xia takes interest in what's going on, hopping up to come see. Her and Zhen talk about how Xia's was hard to find-- though even Karkat blinks in awe at Xia turning to show her normally flat belly having a slight round to it, herself seeming pretty, if mutedly, proud about it.

They both go back to their spots soon, the whole conversation leaving Karkat with a faint smile on his features.

Perhaps, he's got a thought, something that might help Zhen to know, but he'll tell her later, probably when she's taking his measurements.

On the twins' turn, they urge him to follow with them, each taking Karkat's hands to help him up. Of course Gamzee also comes along, and Karkat might laugh at how he's chiding Barzum and Baizli, like they don't already know to be careful with him. Through the caverns, the twins bring Karkat to an area that looks like it's yet to see use, nevermind any other activity.

It's quite a sight, a glowering pool of water, hearing it trickle in from somewhere while looking nothing short of ethereal from it's glowing moss.
"Oh," it's a little more than breathtaking, and it's just a shame they can't take it with them. "...Look at you two, being so clever and finding something so great. Thank you," even with Gamzee's arms around his middle, Karkat brings Barzum and Baizli back into his side, giving them each a kiss on their respective foreheads (maybe, they could take some of the moss with them? But not right now).

 

*

 

Gamzee watches Karkat's eyes light up, reflecting the faint glow of the cavern.

Barzum and Baizli each get a kiss to the forehead, tittering in turn, on their toes to make it easier for Karkat.

Curiously, both twins try to press their ears to Karkat's stomach, like they'll be able to hear or feel anything.

When they don't, they both groan.

"Where's the grub?" Barzum asks.

"How long does it take a breeder to make a grub?" Baizli follows his twin's question with one of his own.

"Before they learn chucklevoodoos, they'll be so fun to play with!" Barzum coos.

"As long as they don't have annoying chucklevoodoos like Gamzee or Kurloz, they'll be fun even after they learn." Baizli tries to reason, the twins murmuring between one another.
Gamzee rests his head on Karkat's shoulder.

"No one says the grub'll be Purple, like us. Might be soft and red, like Karkat. If that's how it be, you can't play your games with the grub, 'cause it'll have the same softness as Karkat."
Both twins look up, blinking before groaning.

"We're already super careful with Karkat!" Barzum shuts her eyes, letting her orbs try to wet themselves.

"Ow ," Baizli reacts in her stead, "when are your ocular orbs gonna stop hurting? It's the worst ."

"You know when! It's worse than the worst to spend all my time in sopor! I feel like a grub, and it makes me sleepy -- but your thoughts always keep me awake!" They begin to bicker, as siblings do, and Gamzee guides them from the cavern.
They're still firmly stuck to Karkat when they return to the festivities.

 

*

 

"Well, you won't be able to hear the grub yet , it's still early, and the grub's still too small and in an eggsac," Karkat hums with a laugh, "It'll be a bit, I'll let you know when you can feel them." Kanaya made sure Karkat finished all of his schoolfeeding and his health lessons, he's got some idea of the sciences behind his body.

The twins begin speculating playing with the grub, for Gamzee to remind them they might not be able to if their grub isn't Purple. Karkat would like to think that if he's pretty resilient then a Red grub might turn out that way as well, especially if they're not a breeder (for Karkat, it's like he's double -downed, pretty sure as a mutant it already held him back, on top of that being a breeder? Forget trying to be useful when he's as breakable as can be. Doesn't stop him from trying though).

"If Gamzee's 'voodoos are annoying, what do yours do then?"

Karkat hasn't really asked if their caravan had chucklevoodoos, nevermind what they do. There were times where it was implied, so he didn't really think to ask before.
As the twins bicker on their way back, still stuck to his sides and making Karkat chipper despite being bare (he supposes that he doesn't feel as awkward being that they're basically his pupae), Karkat's in thought for a minute, before turning to ask Gamzee, "..What do your 'voodoos do? Or is that something I shouldn't ask?"

 

*

 

"We're the best at chucklevoodoos!" The twins exclaim, interrupting their own squabbling to answer Karkat.

"We can make you see things that aren't there," Baizli starts, "and hear things that aren't there," Barzum adds, "and you don't even know we're doing it!" They both burst out, giggling.

They'd offer to demonstrate on Karkat, but they know Gamzee wouldn't let them.

Besides, they don't really want to scare Karkat.

Gamzee, on the other hand, has to take a moment to think.

"Fine question, just... not always so easy, you feel me? I can feel out other trolls, find their fears, make 'em scared shitless; make 'em see shit." He shrugs, "Kurloz also talks with me through his 'voodoos. Goddamn annoying, like the motherfucker's shouting in my head . He got different 'voodoos than mine, but I guess, since we blood brothers, connected minds ain't the worst." While wandering past

Zhen, Gamzee taps her shoulder.

"Karkat's asking on 'voodoos. You got 'em, don't you?" The small troll, glass of elixir in hand, takes a drink. The way she turns to them entices them to sit down, the twins running off to bother the Jadebloods.

Her head tilts back, the last of her glass downed with a sigh.

"I do. I like to disable trolls. You know," she refills her glass, offers one to Gamzee and one to Karkat, "to make them do shit like this." She waves her stump around.

"It's really fun -- except for the fact that I also feel the pain, but it doesn't matter so much when it isn't your eye or your horn . Besides, The Mirthful Messiahs must've been preparing me for this trial." She giggles, her purple lips stretched wide over sharp fangs; fangs more common to Jadebloods, actually.

"It's one of the funniest ways to deal with other psychic trolls, too. I mean, Bluebloods are a pain in the motherfucking ass , but they're usually pretty bad at digging into my head because of the rot. If I can get into their head first, they're motherfucking dead -- or injured enough they know not to fuck with me." Gamzee drinks from his glass, as well, content at Karkat's side.

"That's kind'a like what Kurloz got." He mentions, Zhen motioning for him to go on.

"He can puppet people, almost like a Blueblood. Not other Pruples. More like he leaves a want or a need in your brain what makes you act a certain way, and you won't even know he ever did it." Things are starting to pick up around them, and Marvus begins coralling everyone's attention, hyping Chixie up.

Xia comes to sit beside Zhen, Polypa following; Chixie's shaking in her boots for the first few lines until her voice really picks up, and the trolls begin to clap or stomp their feet. A few clowns honk, as well.

 

*

 

The twins are more than happy to brag about their chucklevoodoos, Karkat listening intrigued; sounds like they could make whole illusions if they wanted. Wonders if they can only do scary things, or if their range can do more than just that.

Gamzee goes through explaining his, though it almost sounds like he's unsure of his own extent. Says he can feel other trolls out, go through their pan and dig out their fears, turn it on them; can even make other trolls see things like Barzum and Baizli can.

He explains a little about Kurloz's, how maybe it's because they're blood siblings that they're connected like that (Karkat wondering if that's also a thing with The Grand Highblood..or perhaps not). Making an amused expression at Gamzee's distaste; Karkat can't really imagine Kurloz speaking up more than he did earlier, nevermind shouting , though it must be different when one's in someone's head-- what does he know when he's got no psionics or voodoos or anything.

"You think it'd work on me? Or d'you think I'm too soft-panned it's not even a thought to you?" Karkat asks him, half-serious and half-teasing.

Zhen talks about hers when they ask, settling down while the twins head off to find something else to do. He's handed a glass of elixir-- the liquid itself looks a little shimmery, and doesn't taste at all like he expected, surprisingly sweet and fizzing a little in his mouth, like bottled cider does when it's finally been opened. Sipping at it while Zhen tells them straight how fun her chucklevoodoos are; Karkat imagines that it must be fun to make someone else do something, even if not to some gory extent.

 

Gamzee says hers are similar to Kurloz, Karkat's brow going up a little at the mention of puppeting. "Oh! Vriska-- that Blueblood you met --she can do something like that too, take over a troll or few. She's not supposed to do in front of me, though, or else she gets a long lecture, twice ." Karkat snickers, thinking of a memory (Vriska had showed him, Karkat clapping like the pupa he was, bragging how she could even do it to a full adult, said she could even do it to Karkat. However, Kanaya caught her before that and went off on her, which Karkat found just a little more amusing; nevermind when Kanaya dragged her to the Elder to tattle and she even got a, albeit lighter, talking to from him, coming back grumbling how she wasn't even part of the village, why is she in trouble, they're not her Lusus , bluh bluh bluh ).

Chixie and Marvus are up when Xia comes to sit by Zhen, Polypa too. Karkat's never been to the kind of performance either singer do, but Marvus is great at getting everyone excited for it.

Like Karkat knew, Chixie's singing voice is lovely, like he's never heard something so pretty in all his life (sounds like a fairy, if he had anything to liken it to). She might have been a little shaky from starting, but that's forgotten the more into it she gets, echoing melodiously through the cave. Karkat is all awe and sparkles as her confidence builds, beginning to clap along.

 

*

 

Chixie gets more into her performance, her voice echoing through the cavern; when it's Marvus' turn, he pulls Chixie back to her feet, and encourages her to rhyme with him.

She's nowhere near as good as he is -- nor as good as the clowns tossing out a few lymrics -- but she seems to have fun in picking up her own flow, and none of the clowns mind that she's sometimes out of breath or slightly off-beat.

Anywhere else, it'd get her culled.

Here, everyone's too busy; trolls getting on their feet to join in.

Lanque pulls Xia to her feet, spinning her -- and her dress comes dangerously close to showing off her panties, but she has fun with the Jadeblood, nonetheless.

Zhen and Polypa, clearly, aren't ones for dancing; Chahut and Daraya are chatting, enjoying drinks and the singing.

Bronya's been dragged to her feet by Karako, now letting loose with both her charge and the twins.

Zhen stretches out her legs, looking at her feet.

"It might work on you, but it doesn't work on Xia." Zhen doesn't even need to ask to know Gamzee wouldn't let her try getting into Karkat's head.

"It's not that she's soft-panned . I've never been able to feel her mind. It's like she doesn't exist -- of course, physical shit still harms her. If you fire an eye-laser at her, she'll die. Burgundies can pick her up. However , they can't reach her with the dead; Bluebloods can't take control of her; Purplebloods can't scare the shit out of her." She shrugs.

"Maybe it's the perk of being a Limeblood. I mean, Her Pissy Eminence eradicated Limebloods for a reason ."

"They was gone 'fore my ancestor was even hatched." Gamzee adds, nudging Karkat until his mate sits on his lap.

"Yeah," Zhen continues, "and they were supposedly immune to psychic attacks. I don't really see how that'd harm The Empire, though. All it does is stop anyone from being able to tell whether or not Xia's got panrot." Her gaze shifts to Karkat.

"Do you think it's a mutant thing? Mutants are related to Limebloods, aren't they? Or have I had too much elixir?" She giggles, bringing her stump to her lips.

"I could try to get inside Karkat's mind -- or you could. You're his mate, after all. Handsy motherfucker that you are. I bet you'll mount him later like he's not already carrying your grub." Gamzee doesn't even have enough shame in him to deny it, merely resting his head in the crook of Karkat's neck and purring.

"Fuck off." He replies, chuckling.

 

*

 

Trolls are even getting up to dance-- some, anyway. Karkat hadn't expected Xia to go and dance but he grins to see that she's having fun.

Everyone is having their own kind of fun, even Bronya's been pulled up and along to dance while others chat or just play festive wallflower and enjoy being there; Zhen and Polypa seem to do well at that, though Zhen is talking with them.

"I couldn't tell you if it is," Karkat says, "I've never met any other blood mutie, and if we want to get technical, Xia doesn't really count, since Lime was a legitimate caste before," he shrugs, fixing himself in Gamzee's lap, "If we're related at all then...well, that might be the case. Or maybe not. Or maybe that's just the elixir."

Karkat has... picked up on certain things before; Vriska did touch his mind, he won't forget the sensation of that, but he wouldn't know if it was even a full takeover like he'd seen her do before. She got in trouble before she could do much.

That time he stopped Gamzee from fighting Chahut, it was like a whisper in his head, a push in the direction he should go.

That Kanaya had died.

Looking at the cathedral windows right before they shattered-- feeling something moments before they were hit by the adults whose caravan they've repurposed.

The time he was even younger than the twins and he'd gone too deep into the woods-- was so sure that the monstrosity before him was going to eat him, inside out and outside in, it told him so--

 

He glances at Gamzee, wondering if he'd even want to try or if he thought Karkat couldn't handle it. His mind is taken off of it though, snorting at Zhen, "'Handsy' is just one word I'd use," Karkat's got a lot of words he'd use in that particular case, barely a quarter of them are conversation-friendly.

 

*

 

"I know that , high-pants, or do you think I can't see colour on top of everything else?" Zhen downs the rest of her drink.

"I'm trying to say you might've been hatched a Limeblood if your genetics hadn't fucked up. I mean, where the fuck would you come from, otherwise? Besides, embrace the inevitable; Her Imperial Bitchiness is probably going to waste Purplebloods next. We fuck up the hemospectrum. It's not a clear shot from shitblood to tyranny -- we could probably kill an heiress, and if I ever see her fucking face, I'll cull myself the biggest bitch on Alternia." Zhen's not laughing anymore, and a few trolls have taken notice.

Polypa tries on a strained smile, and elbows the small Purpleblood not-so gently.
"Maybe keep your nutrient gash shut before you get culled." She says it as if Zhen's had too much to drink.

"Why? Are some loyalists going to come at me? Her Imperial Pettiness herself? Let them. They won't , because I'm with The Grand Highblood and he's a little attached to me, but if they did , he'd rip a nice, new hole in this goddamn planet, and use it as a mass grave for all the finned heathens." Polypa bristles, but Zhen gets to her feet.

"Congratulations, you two. I hope for both of your sakes that the grub comes out Red. It won't have to grow up to watch its own caste suffer and die." She grabs another cup of elixir on her way out.

Gamzee watches her retreating form, brows bunching for a moment.

"Give Purplebloods too much time to get our think on, we get bitter." He tries to dismiss the comments, but it's clear they resonated with him.

"How you finding on the elixir, mate of mine? You wanna adorn some finery and dance? I'll keep my hands in their proper places, promise."

 

*

 

Shit-- did he word something wrong?

He must have, that it rubbed Zhen the wrong way (Karkat and his damn foot getting stuck in his mouth).

Karkat doesn't even get the chance to say anything before the Indigo is up and swiftly heading out.

Gamzee essentially says if they get to thinking too long, they get resentful; Karkat can get that, he starts to think darkly when he broods over something unfavorable.

....He wonders if Zhen meant it or not, for their grub to be Red; Karkat is..actually hoping not, that his grub isn't a blood mutant. Any pupae from him, he'd rather they at least have a chance, Purple, Red, or however they turn out.

His mate gets him out of his head, asking about the elixir. "Ah-- I wasn't expecting it to have cider-bubbles!" Karkat exclaims, trying to look pleased and unaffected. Raising a brow at being asked to dance, Karkat dusting red at his cheeks, "You want to? Dance?" Then his eyes narrow with suspicion, "By finery d'ya mean I'll still be bare like this?" He thinks so, the celebration isn't over yet. Though Karkat mildly fidgets, "....I mean, I only know festival dances, but I wouldn't mind, dancing with you.."

 

*

 

"By 'finery' I mean 'garments what you adorn yourself in', 'cause that kind'a carapace-showing dance's only meant for my oculars, mate of mine." Karkat's fidgeting is cute, and even cuter when it's done on his lap; he can feel every which way his mate squirms.

It gives him ideas for later.

 

Xia's managed to disentangle herself from Lanque, flush with energy.

"Why'd Zhen leave?" She trots over, and Polypa's the first to speak up.

"We were having a normal conversation, and then your clown starts spewing revolutionary bullshit and the whole 'woe is me' Purpleblood schtick. I don't have the time or patience for either." Polypa levels a stare at Xia, which she meets, hands on her wide hips.

"Coming from a caste that no longer exists , and growing up with a caste that's been pushed to violence, I think I have a better understanding of the nuances of the situation than you do -- and I already know your opinions on the matter." She gives no ground, evidently accustomed to dealing with trolls -- regardless of their blood colour.

"Your mouth's going to get you culled one day, Xia. You need to learn to address caste differences, even -- "

"Why?" She interrupts Polypa.

"You don't give a shit about caste, so why do I have to refrain from calling a stupid fucking Blueblood a stupid fucking Blueblood? Is it because I can't protect myself? Jeez, I'm not going to be the singular revival of Limebloods; I'm the last shout from the void!" Childishly, she sticks out her tongue, following after Zhen -- and Polypa, cursing under her breath, follows after Xia.

Gamzee rumbles, nails tracing a line between Karkat's chest.

"Don't worry your pan none. This shit happens. You go find some finery, and we'll dance 'til our strutpods ache."

 

*

 

It takes Karkat a moment to get the implication, thinking about it until it hits all at once-- hahahah , Gamzee shouldn't joke around like that with him. Like Karkat would have the nerve to even behind closed doors (but the thought of it though...).

Though his attention goes to Xia when she returns, Polypa blurting out what had happened-- tattling , it sounds more like. As if telling on Zhen would put her more in Xia's graces.

Only for Xia and her usual bluntness to cut straight into business, going off on Polypa.

What Karkat isn't expecting is the sudden surge of childishness that has her stick out her tongue like she's a wriggler, stomping off like one too.

He is worried, even if Gamzee tells him not to be, claw lightly dragging down his chest. But there isn't anything he can do about it right now, if he can at all.

But, putting something on sounds good to Karkat, shifting off of Gamzee's lap to do just that, heading toward his pile of gifts. Maybe he'll wear the dress Zhen made for him, hopeful that if she came back her seeing it on him would calm her enough, or at least something better than when she left.

 

*

 

Gamzee follows behind Karkat, preaching being intermingled with the singing; trolls toss fistfuls of powder into candles, making the flames flare and change colour.

It doesn't take very long for the entire cavern to reek of sugar.

"No comment?" Gamzee asks, gazing over their pile of gifts.

"You wouldn't dance naked for me -- or would you?" He teases, watching Karkat with a hungry eye.

"I know your body adores me, even if your village morals tell you to keep your thighs closed tight -- I'd let 'em close tight on my motherfucking head." About to go on teasing his mate, Gamzee shuts his mouth and turns, more sensing Kurloz than hearing him.

 

The older troll has returned to his former state of calm -- outwardly. Gamzee can sense a very fine string of... something. Excitement?
He clicks , prompting Kurloz to speak.

"If you and your mate are going to dance, I was wondering if I'd be given the second dance. Your mate is wary of me, and I'd like to attempt to reassure him." Gamzee rests his cheek in his hand, looking like he's vaguely considering ordering Kurloz to go walk into the sunlight.

"Ain't so sure Karkat wants your hands on him. Last time, they was on his neck." Kurloz nods, as if that needed reaffirming.

"I was prepared to die with your mate if you were culled. We would burn to death. That is what I was instructed to do." Gamzee clicks again, waving Kurloz off.

"We'll talk 'bout it!" He shouts, grabbing Karkat's hand and taking him out to dance.

"I ain't gonna share you." Gamzee starts, pulling Karkat into the rhythm of the other's feet.

"Some caravans share their breeder, but I made it real clear with everyone that you ain't to be shared -- and I don't wanna know why Kurloz's trying to get up in your business. You wanna hear him out?"

He thinks the dress looks gorgeous on Karkat, flaring at the hips; cut modestly enough to let the imagination wander.

 

*

 

"No comment, and how I dance for you and where my thighs close isn't anything you should get your head stuck in," Karkat sing-songs over the clamor despite blooming red-- knows Gamzee's just running his mouth to get something out of him; well, it works, his blush even shows on his back.

He's lucky enough that his mate is distracted for a moment, letting Karkat go collect the rest of his clothes as well, fold them up to get put away in his bag when he got the chance-- he knew Gamzee threw away his panties before, th-that first day when he'd been eaten out and then some! Not about to let that happen twice! --, and meanwhile take a longer look at the dress made for him.

The material the cloister uses for their robes isn't actually bad, feeling sturdy and gives a little stretch under his fingers. It's clothing meant to take a lot of wear and tear, which sounds pretty ideal for travel clothes.

As Xia said, Zhen's a lot more thoughtful than she lets on, which really just makes him feel worse for not thinking his words through.

 

It's easy to tell the front side, and as he pulls it over his head Karkat is pretty grateful his horns have no chance of goring into anything he'd not want it to, dumb rounded nubbed things that they are. His head pops up through the neck and once his arms are in everything gets pulled into place; the hem settles around his knees, following the curve of his hips. The sleeves go past his fingers but that's in line with the style and not really an issue for him.

He comes back toward Gamzee just in time for his hand to be grabbed and pulled along, chirring in confusion-- even more when Gamzee claims he isn't sharing Karkat like that had even been a possibility.

"Well that's nice to know," Karkat snorts, the sound part disbelief and the rest of it is his being confounded, beginning to move in time with his mate's steps; festival dances aren't anything special but he can at least follow rhythm pretty well thanks to those, he thinks.

It doesn't clear up any further when Gamzee more or less says Kurloz wanted to speak with him-- another blindside out of the blue.

"I-I mean...," not going to lie to himself but Kurloz still makes him uneasy, even seeing that calm break open for the first time (Gamzee had said before that he'd have been Kurloz's mate, but he didn't have the want; looked a little like that wasn't wholly the case from earlier). Karkat's unsure of the look of things, but....for one, he still didn't thank Kurloz for his gift-- didn't even accept it properly what with Gamzee being...whatever it is that he feels the need to be toward his blood brother --, being really thoughtful toward Karkat.

".....I..could hear him out, I guess...," he could see it as an opportunity, since there are questions of his own he's hoping to have cleared up, and he may not find another.

 

*

 

Looks like Karkat wasn't listening in, as he figured the troll would -- most do when Kurloz bothers to open his mouth.

"Whatever you wanna do, I'll back you up." Gamzee reassures him.

They dance for a while, just simple things -- none of them grew up in ballgowns and royal palaces, so no one really cares when they bump into one another, or if they aren't stepping in time.

Maybe Gamzee keeps Karkat for a little too long, just having fun with him -- he's a little tired by the time they stop, motioning his blood brother over.

 

Kurloz extends a gloved hand to Karkat, his brows raising in question.

"Don't make him cry or I'll kick your ass out into the motherfucking Sun." Gamzee hisses.

"You got five minutes!" He calls -- chirping in surprise and delight when Chahut picks him up and hauls him over her shoulder. Daraya's currently getting the same treatment.

 

*

 

This is much better than learning the stiff dances castle people were trying to have him do-- so Eridan could flaunt how easily he took a village troll and made him into a poised and polished obedient member of high society (can take the troll from the village but he can't get the village out of the troll!) --even if Karkat had wanted to for the sake of knowing how to do something from his books, but at the least he wanted to learn on his own terms.

Dancing like this reminds him of home, no one really cares how one does it, they just do and laugh and enjoy (unless it was ceremony dances, those had specific ways to follow, rules to keep). Going until he and Gamzee are nearly breathless and laughing flushes their faces.

When they do stop to breathe, Gamzee gestures at Kurloz to come, the elder offering his hand to Karkat.

 

Karkat throws a half-hearted glare at his mate-- bold of him to say not to make Karkat cry when he'd been picking on him, trying to get him to strip and then putting their private business on blast, who knows who heard what, pretty much had Karkat to tears himself.

Chirping when Chahut swoops in-- literally swoops Gamzee up to where Karkat tries hard but fails to stop from snickering behind his hand (like hell Chahut isn't absolutely his Lusus-troll).

Turning back to Kurloz, Karkat picks up on some things at a glance, scorched eyes flicking to the wan figure before him.

Gamzee really does share more than half his features with Kurloz, which only makes sense, being that they're from the same line and all. Karkat's heard that The Grand Highblood is a massive troll, Kurloz's height makes him look like that part is well on it's way, Gamzee's too. They might have truly been twins themselves if it wasn't clear that Kurloz was older.

Bracing his nerves and grit and doing his best not to look too put out, Karkat puts his hand into long gloved fingers, looking his new partner in the face. "Well...what did you want to talk to me about?"

 

*

 

"You're uneasy with me." Kurloz's gaze doesn't deviate from Karkat's own, the prominent purple of his eyes being just slightly higher in hue than Gamzee's -- and, presumably, The Grand Highblood's.

Unlike his brother, Kurloz's movements are slow; he guides Karkat close and steps with the smaller troll. An unrefined form of ballroom dancing, but it's clear he's seen as much enough to be able to emulate it.

It's also better for talking than the unrestrained tossing, turning, and general chaos of the other trolls.

"I understand that to an extent." His free hand rests light as a spider's touch at the dip of Karkat's waist.

"However, I was only following your mate's orders. If that incident continues to bother you, please keep in mind that I wasn't acting of my own will." His fangs are the most formidable of the group, each long and pointed; they look like they should make speaking difficult, but, if anything, he's the most composed of the lot -- excluding Karako, when he feels like verbalising.

"If, however, you're naturally put-off by me, then I'll accept that. If I do come up in conversation between you and Brother Gamzee, I know he has nothing favourable to say about me -- which is just as well. I'm not a very favourable troll." His lips turn into a habitual smile, complementing his stark choice of face paint.

 

*

 

(Wasn't he just saying something earlier about not being left alone with Kurloz?? So much for that .)

 

"You'd be too if someone had you by the neck," Karkat responds, though he's getting the feeling that doesn't particularly apply to Kurloz.

There is a slight difference in their hues, Karkat notices, now that he's getting a chance to look. Not flat out violet, but if he skims a few shades he could be (heck, if they were feeling so bold, they could put fake fins on Kurloz and infiltrate some gill-fucker's castle, probably. It'd maybe work, maybe ).

Karkat's not sure what he'd been expecting, certainly hadn't thought for Kurloz to break into the free kind of dancing happening around them but neither had he expected to be moved into the kind of dance they were doing now; it's not as stiff as what instructors tried to teach him, nor is Kurloz trying to overwhelmingly lead him, trying to cage him with his hold (and Karkat doesn't doubt that he could). Just slow, easy, relaxed steps, repetition making things simple for muscle memory to take over while they talk.

It's easier to understand him when he isn't saying cryptic jargon.

He thinks for a good moment before speaking, lips pursed before words begin coming out carefully, "..The only thing I'm really upset about from then is that I could have done something , and I wasn't able to. Whatever I could have done, maybe it would have changed things, made them better, made them worse, or maybe it wouldn't even have changed anything at all." Karkat glances away, not wanting to accept that as a possibility but it still could have very well been that way with his luck. "I was upset and unsettled that you wouldn't even allow me to try , orders or not."

 

But that time is over and is unpleasant to think any further on.

"I kind of...figured that was probably the case. And if it is, then anything I have against you on that is on Gamzee, who I've already had it out with." Well, kind of, not that they really got anywhere but trapped in that damn bloody circle.

"Speaking of unfavorable, why...," Karkat scrunches his face, trying to chose his words (learning he can't just say anything to say it from Zhen), lips pursed again and slightly pouted, "...why do you...endure that? What do you get from being treated like that? I don't...," Karkat ends up shaking his head, unsure if those kind of questions were something he should stay out of, trying to redirect the topic.

"You don't need to answer those, if you don't wanna. I actually...chose to hear you out for a reason," the expression on his face softens, Karkat managing a light, apologetic smile, "I didn't get to thank you properly, for your gift-- you must have thought on it a lot. So I thought I should take the chance without Gamzee bullying the both of us." Probably a surprise to them both is Karkat getting Kurloz low enough to leave a short peck on his cheek, coming away and trying not to act like it's as big a deal to him as it is-- Karkat's not the kind of troll who just goes around kissing other trolls after all.

 

*

 

Kurloz accepts the kiss with closed eyes, trying to be as cold to it as possible.

"Please don't speak ill of your mate behind his back." Kurloz straightens, and continues dancing with Karkat.

"I'm glad you appreciate the gift. There were deceased Lusii and, if we're to be going North, you'll need more protection from the elements than the rest of us. I didn't put any noteworthy amount of thought into it." Rejecting praise seems to come naturally to him, although he doesn't look uncomfortable.

"Gamzee is the rightful successor to The Grand Highblood. If his blood were my hue, I would've culled him when we was a pupa. Considering the circumstances, I serve beneath him -- and if he orders me, or anyone else in this caravan, to do something, then they're obligated to do so or risk a culling." Not that Gamzee needs a good reason to cull Kurloz; the older troll treats it as matter of course.

"Besides that, every grouping of trolls needs its scapebleat-beasts. Surely, your village had a few trolls who could never do anything right, or were always debasing themselves in public and private. Lynera is a good example. She's one of the more inoffensive Jadebloods in the cloister, yet she's harassed by everyone -- and Bronya isn't particularly fond of protecting her, despite her 'neutral' stance."

The singing stops abruptly as Chixie tumbles over herself, evidently having had too much to drink.

She snorts, pawing at Marvus while he helps her to her feet.

 

Kurloz's hands slip away from Karkat.

"I believe this was a productive conversation. I hope you understand my position. I understand your position, even if I already know the event was of little consequence to the attacking party." His smile widens.

"Gamzee and I share base information, as I'm sure you know. It's bothersome for the both of us. He should be back soon. Should I get you a drink?"

 

*

 

Karkat considers retorting that he'll talk however he wants, but with prior evidence that doesn't really seem to go well. Instead he gives a slightly raised brow with his mouth set, but doesn't really say anything on that.

Kurloz seemed...Karkat doesn't know how to put it, like the situation is cut and dry and that's all there is to it, he's already accepted his place where he is, it feels like (hearing him say he's basically the scapebleat just sort of shoots a needle of pity into his pusher. Just for being too bright a hue? That's...Karkat doesn't know what to make of that, either. It just sounds unnecessary to him. Excessively cruel, like either Gamzee or Kurloz have control of what shade of Purple they came out with; Karkat certainly didn't).

Hearing Lynera used as an example doesn't really make him feel better about it.

Sure, they've had some trolls branded as village idiots, but only for things that they've actually done and in light humor, nothing so grandiose as being the wrong shade-- then again, they have no reason to, whereas Gamzee and his blood brother do.

His head swivels toward Chixie, his mouth squiggling to see her simply being drunk, even though it means the music stops.

Kurloz slips out of his hand, and more or less lets him know that he also knows Kanaya isn't dead (he shouldn't be surprised, isn't even, since Gamzee had already told him something like that before), though the way his smile widens makes Karkat feels suspicious for some reason; he says the way they share information with each other is bothersome for both, sounding like he's trying to let Karkat know something.

He only shakes his head, "I'm alright. Thank you, for wanting to speak with me."

 

*

 

His smile widens further, just enough to look off-putting.

"I'll try to make it a rare occurance in the future, Karkat." With that, Kurloz takes his leave -- not only from the dance, but from the party itself.

He'd actually stayed far longer than he'd intended.

 

Almost as soon as Kurloz leaves, Gamzee hops back to Karkat's side, chittering at Chahut -- who supports a drowsy, drunk Daraya.

"Jadebloods don't know how to handle their motherfucking elixir -- how'd it go?" His thumb nudges Karkat's lips, pulling off a small speck of greasepaint.

"Got some paint on your lips." He wipes it off on the underside of his own wrist, his gaze less-than-impressed.

Gamzee's not one for stewing in his emotions, or playing at subtleties; that's Kurloz's thing.

"So, I bully you? Motherfucker, you don't know the meaning of the word. You wanna see me bully you?" His impatience is clear; he's done with the party. He's done entertaining Karkat and all of these trolls who have whims he, frankly, could care less about.

Kurloz wriggling himself into the corners of his mind while Chahut tossed him around just cemented his irritation.

"I thought we was doing good, I was ready to forgive all the small griefs of the day, but you really had to go try for some -- what -- some 'my mate's shit' solidarity with Kurloz? The fuck's that? You don't wanna be my mate?" At least Gamzee has the decency not to make a scene, grabbing Karkat by the wrist and pulling him away from the festivities.

"We'll get all your gifts at dusk -- if you decide you still wanna be my mate. Nothing stopping us from removing that grub and pretending none of this ever happened." Albeit, it isn't as if they'd just return Karkat to his village.

Clicking to himself, Gamzee pulls Karkat into an unused respiteblock.

"Go to sleep. We'll get our chat on at dusk 'bout what you said to Kurloz." The bed is big enough for two -- probably three -- trolls, but Gamzee's radiating passive anger, trying to think of something he could lash out on without upsetting the Jades too much.

 

*

 

Karkat only fully realizes what Kurloz meant as he's being dragged along the caverns, smiling like he knew something Karkat didn't-- that bitch. That fucking tattletale.

 

If Karkat doesn't kick him in the shins tomorrow-- if Karkat has a tomorrow, that is --the asshole can count himself one of a lucky few to have escaped his ire.

Once they're in the block and (hopefully) out of range of uninvited ears, Karkat released from nearly-bruising grip as Gamzee looks around, unsure if Gamzee's anger is siphoning into him but damn he's upset too. "Oh, then what would you call that from earlier?? 'Good fun'?? Making me feel so shitty that I just want to sink and disappear into the floor? Well fucking damn, if that's not bullying then I'd hate to see what bullying is from you."

 

Well shit, did that mean kicking him around and dragging him halfway back through the country wasn't bullying him either? Holy fuck, Karkat should be so fucking gracious!

 

"The motherfuckin' globes on you, telling someone else not to make me cry-- but you have done that the most out of anyone I've ever met!!" If Karkat had a moment to be rational, he'd have hoped his voice doesn't carry down the caverns, rising octave by octave in volume, that the thin door to separate the block is enough to hold the sound.

Something else seems to click in his head, both Gamzee and Kurloz talking about their chucklevoodoos, his face shooting red in a mix of anger and belated embarrassment, "Motherfucker, were you sharing stuff in your head about us fucking!? With your blood brother!!?"

Karkat stomps right over, Gamzee standing close to the bed-- "Fuck you, y'know?? I'm the one who was humiliated-- what with you fucking putting our business on blast for everyone to hear --but you want to be upset!? Fuck that!!" Maybe it's because in rage, Karkat feels so much stronger than he is, or maybe it's because Gamzee hadn't expected it, who could say? But whatever and however it is, Karkat shoves Gamzee as hard as his body allows, not stopping his tirade when Gamzee's knees hit the back of the bed.

"I had every fucking valid reason to clock you bloody-- even if it would've only broken my hand, you just kept going on and on to earn it!!" Shove, he does again, ignoring any kind of pushing away or attempts to stop him, a thick, unnaturally guttural sound reverberates from his throat, growling from there to his chest.

"Oh, but I didn't, did I?? I didn't even cry yet, I fucking held it all in and beat myself up for ruining a good thing and everyone's good time because I couldn't just suck it up and go along with things, yeah? Even with you hounding me-- like you couldn't even prepare me or fucking warn me for that matter, that I'd have to do something like that?? What the fuck else was I supposed to do besides panic and freeze the fuck up!!?" Another shove.

 

This....feels...so...good. Karkat hasn't yelled somebody down in forever. He doesn't remember it feeling like this.

 

"And speaking of beating myself the fuck up; I am already making myself sick over the twins. I am already fucking myself over that I've got no fucking right to anyone's forgiveness because my Jade is a-fucking-live-- no one wants to tell me how the fuck but as she fucking lives and breathes I guess --but because of that, everyone might as well have gotten burnt for nothing. I already know this entire thing is my fault and I'm already fucking myself up about it-- I don't need you to jump down my throat and stomp on my pusher because I'm already doing it!!!"

Karkat gives one more big shove, hard enough for him to go down on the bed-- and instinct hits just like that, Karkat climbing up and over, hunkering down to straddle Gamzee's chest, legs pinning his arms. One hand fisted in his shirt and the other rearing back, building force; today was the day after all.

Notes:

I've told you, I think, that it feels a little like I'm writing a diary to you. If not that, then a very obsessive series of love letters, which isn't any better, haha. I know somehow someway, this would be something you'd have your Gamzee do, so what does that say about me?

It feels like pieces of myself get left behind in these notes to you. It's probably creepy, I bet. I'm sorry, that it's creepy and burdensome. I'm sorry that I'm going to keep doing it. Even if it's useless, even if it amounts to nothing in the end. All because I'm stupidly hopeful that a simple butterfly's wingbeat will blow in a hurricane, that doing this unimportant thing will bring about a miracle. That by calling out enough maybe I'll hear you answer back

Chapter 23: Psychosis

Summary:

I saw someone had made a gamkar discord server

I'm thinking of joining. Maybe I can find them there, too. It's a longshot, but it's a shot.

Notes:

It's been a while. I don't usually mean to go this long without putting something up, but some circumstances are just inevitable and unavoidable like that, you know?

This was one of those parts we had to work through carefully, to not reach a bad end, we even edited things in the responses just to make it all come together. Another bad time, haha.

I think it bears repeating, but the events and themes present in our chat is all carefully thought out and curated and put together by us, meant to be enjoyed in a fictional way.

If anyone out there is in such a relationship where you feel trapped and can't get away, it is the time you should get out the most. Please take care of yourselves.

Gamzee takes Karkat's abuse until the troll rears back a fist.
He dislodges an arm easily, and jabs Karkat right in the jaw, knocking him off the bed.

"Apparently, motherfucker, you do need me to remind you of your place." He stands, planting a foot atop Karkat's chest, pinning him to the floor like an insect.
His gaze thins as he observes the mutant, upper lip twitching into a sneer.

"I shared nothing with Kurloz, but it's good to know how much faith you got in me. You wanna go commiserate more with him? How about I make room in you for a new grub? A better grub. One that won't come from a disgusting troll like me." His foot descends, resting low on Karkat's abdomen.

"Your Elder threatened me, you know? You know what else, mate of mine?" That sneer turns into a smile, his sclera darkening.

"You're never going back there. You're never seeing a single one of them again. If they seek us out, they'll die -- or you'll die. I'll make sure of it, mate of mine." He murmurs, watching Karkat's face, fixated on his mate's expression.

"I'll kill the twins, and watch you weep. I'll crush the grub you birth me and watch you hate me. I'll put another grub in you just to do it again and again -- and you're too weak to take your own life. You're too weak for anything, you motherfucking backwards village-troll." Gamzee's voice is sickly sweet, his fangs on display as he outlines Karkat's possible future.

He looks just as enamoured by the prospect as he had when Karkat had said he'd loved him.

"Mate of mine," he coos, "are you going to apologise for shoving me? For trying to hit me? That's not your motherfucking place, you motherfucking mutant; you don't hit me. You don't touch me with pitch intent. I'll kill you before I let that happen, and sully our relationship." He lifts his heel, and straddles Karkat.

"Do you want me to bully you? Shove you around?" He reaches out, gripping Karkat's cheeks in his hand.

The highblood leans in, reeking of rage and repressed arousal.

"Don't pretend you hated the attention, mate of mine. I was soft with you when I didn't have to be." His lips brush Karkat's, tongue daring to dart out over Karkat's upper lip.

"I didn't have to ignore my own wants for yours -- but it's been convenient for you to ignore my wants, hasn't it?" His nails threaten to dig into Karkat's cheeks.

"I been wanting to lay with you all night and all day ."

 

*

 

He's reminded once again, of how weak he actually is, by word and action.

His jaw aches something fierce he hasn't felt in a long time-- had been disallowed from getting into scrap-fights with other pupae --but so, so much worse. Again, Karkat is under Gamzee's heel, putting just enough pressure that it keeps him stuck and that it hurts .

When his foot slides lower, Karkat freezes, Gamzee fully implying that he'd get rid of their grub, twice, and even one more. Tells him such horrible words again, threatening his village. Threatens the twins and their grub, says he'll make him go through it over and over (he doesn't mean it, hedoesn'tmeanit hedoesn'tmeanithedoesn'tmeanit ).

He's just breaking Karkat's heart like he's prone to.

And Karkat is too weak to do anything, to stop him, or to end himself, just stop everything altogether.....He should, just so that he doesn't have to feel this way; doesn't have to be made to feel this way.

 

Either way, it seems they both have broken promises.

 

He wants Karkat to apologize, as if only Karkat had done wrong-- and that's just so messed up he could even laugh. Gamzee will kill him for retaliating, as if Karkat wouldn't just break himself from striking Gamzee.

Isn't that stupid?

He hates this body. And just when he was starting to appreciate it even a little bit, he hates it all over again.

 

Gamzee's heel moves, just to settle on top of him figures, long fingers come to tightly grip his cheeks, his mate grazing cool lips against his, tongue swiping the top and telling his wants straight.

After all of that...Karkat can't even finish the thought. Any kind of speaking he wants to get out is hard, but that won't even stop him, squirming in Gamzee's grip, impeding his speech, "......don' you threaten..anythin' to do with my village....," his shaking hand comes up, wrapping as much as it can around Gamzee's wrist, the one holding him by the face, "Don' threaten my pupae...," he's not finished but he can't even hold himself, feebly butting his head into Gamzee, just touching skin to skin, tears welling too big and falling off his lashes, "Don' ever threaten our grub..th' grub I made with you..," Karkat trembles, but not from fear, his frustration is stronger than that, his voice breaking through to a sob, "..do anythin' you want to me, but I will die before you get a frond on them," if he thinks that Karkat won't, then...well, he's wrong.

He doesn't......he doesn't know what else to give at this point. Karkat already chose Gamzee, over everything else. It's so tiring, to be like this-- and this is even worse than that circle. "What else do you want...? What else can I give you..? D-Do you want to go through my head or...I.......," Karkat can't even finish, speaking is too much. What else can he do?

 

*

 

"Sure, why not? Maybe I can find out why you're like this." Gamzee says before he violates Karkat's mind.

 

His eyes, which were thin slits, open to a lazy gaze; a flickering gaze of pure purple, pink, white; colours flickering rapidly. He traces the tips of his nails along to Karkat's eyes, thumbing off thick tears, tasting the sugar-salt on his tongue.

Gamzee's mind is a large, horrible, looming thing. A horrorterror, or something like it.

When their minds touch, he's careful, testing the waters to see himself licking Karkat's tears off his face -- and then he leaves that. Repulsed. He has no desire to see himself in any capacity.

It'd be easier to just die but there are so many trolls he wants to take with him, and the endless rage he could scream himself psychically deaf with wants to pour out. To punish this blood mutant and everything he's ever held dear for a moment of respite.

 

There's a heart of glass in that intense heat -- fragile and thin and made of sand.

 

He cannot -- will not -- allow it to be reached, broken, exploited. Without this rage, he would've died a wriggler in the sands, a corpse to be dragged into the sea and never found, never minded.

Maybe things would be better had he never been found, but Gamzee didn't have a say in the matter at the time.

Like someone testing a string instrument, Gamzee plucks at the outermost corners of Karkat's mind. Unwrapping him. His touch is light and careful but carries behind it the ability to break the mutant beneath him, rearrange the innards of his mind so badly that he doesn't know which way is up and which way is down; Gamzee could turn everything but himself into something frightening, make Karkat a sex sleeve for him.

He lets his mate know this, allows his mate to see his mind; when he leans down to kiss Karkat, he feels himself being kissed. Cold lips and greasepaint. Soft, warm, supple lips. He thinks mine, engulfed in Karkat's sugary-sweet scent, and waits with a hundred eyes, and thousands of multi-jointed fingers, for his mate.

To say something.

To do something.

To look at him and turn away in fear or revulsion or hatred -- the three go hand-in-hand more often than Gamzee would've thought as a pupa.

 

*

 

There's no chance to prepare himself, and when it feels like something-- Gamzee --literally dives into his head Karkat gasps, the sound unsteady and his body arcing for all of a moment, before he is still and quiet; a faint glimmer of purple sits over his red.

His body is little more than a limp doll in his mate's grasp.

To his mind, visualizations make the most sense; what can he trust, if not his own eyes inside his own mind?

Like that, Karkat feels Gamzee pick and prod at the coverings, peel back the layers and open him up-- the way he does it is so, so careful, he could forget that this is the troll who breaks him up every time he's displeased or feels wronged. Could forget that this troll mangles up his heart every time Karkat hands it to him.

Remembers more than ever when Gamzee instills how much he could break him, not just on the outside but from within. Could turn everything inside out and oh wow, something else had told him the very same thing, didn't it? until there's nothing left of Karkat Vantas but a shell.

Gamzee kisses him and Karkat feels that, he feels just as careful, opening himself up for Karkat even though he has no way of going through Gamzee's head like that; the visualization puts Gamzee in front of him, simple, plain white shirt and paintless, at the forefront of his head. His head makes up a rich, green field that he'd see if he was home to put them in the middle of, a great black door looming behind him-- keeping something in or him out?

Either way, it's locked from the other side but if someone wanted to rearrange things in his mind, that'd be the door to go through --, past memories shimmering at the edges while a small, nub-horned pupa plays in the grass behind him, his back to Karkat and Gamzee.

The air in his mind is still, quiet, hardly picks the skirt of his simple, white dress up. Everything is noiseless, even the pupa behind him; the slightest sound just might shatter the piece of world in his head.

Karkat hears Gamzee, how he echoes and prints mine in his head and it feels like Karkat can see flashes of his heart (if Gamzee can see his, it must be that sad, pathetic Red lump smeared into the ground, weakly pulsing).

It's been a long time since he's imagined red strings on his fingers but he supposes that's what his head wants to see, glancing over his hands while all the strings seem to trail out through the field-- all except one.

One thickly woven thread leads out straight to Gamzee, tied respectively around their life fingers. Gamzee has strings that trail out behind him too, but none as thick as theirs, nor as many as Karkat's.

He wonders, if he'd still been able to imagine them now, if Karkat would have been more at ease when Gamzee came to get him, to see their string.

Mine echoes through his head again but Karkat doesn't need much to move forward, to go and bury his face into Gamzee, tears seeping into his shirt. Karkat doesn't look at him with any kind of fear or hatred, when he does finally look up.

Just sad, wet, red eyes.

A mix, perhaps, of frustration, anger, disappointment, sorrow, grief, agony; relief, faintly. But no fear, no hatred, no revulsion, no need to keep Gamzee as far away from him as possible.

Just a deepening sorrow.

 

*

 

Gamzee creeps through Karkat's mind on too-long legs, momentarily becoming a blade of grass or a gust of wind; he refuses the body set out for him, clad in white.

It blinks and breathes and has a working pusher, but the stalk-legged being passing through shimmering half-memories is more interested in the doorway.

He doesn't remember horrorterrors being so obvious, but, then again, Karkat's crying into a flesh-doll of his mate. Non-psychics must be limited.

An eye rolls briefly over the small pupa, lidless.

 

As the red strings grow taut, making a mockery of movement on the body Karkat's set up for him, Gamzee stalks behind the dark door, and opens it from the other side.

He greets the terror on the other side with his own death, the death of his culture, the death of his caste; their Gods are not merciful and Gamzee knows this all-too well.

A moonlit sky falls behind Karkat, slicing conscious and unconscious minds in half; the envelopment of Karkat's mind within his own.

 

Gone is the grass, the strings; Gamzee simply crumbles into sand while a pupa stares blankly out onto the vast ocean.

These aren't the beaches of seadwellers but the beaches of beasts; sand and water, dotted with rocky outcroppings, for as far as can be seen. The twin moons hang bright in the sky.

The pupa is so new as to still be tinged lavender, hair short, horns malleable. It can't be more than half-a-sweep old, if that.

It looks at Karkat as if it's never seen another troll before, but there's the dumb, glazed look of hunger dulling the surprise in its eyes.

That same look usually ends up getting Indigoblood pupa and wrigglers killed; choosing to curl up and die. Their instincts don't tell them to go inland to forage, either; after all, there's nothing there for them.

After an eternity -- or maybe just a second -- the pupa bleats, evidently emulating the noise of its absent Lusus.

 

*

 

Gamzee crumbles through his hands, and Karkat is somewhere new, unfamiliar.

 

He's never been to a real beach. A lake or creek shore, for sure, but not true sand and saltwater waves. Not even when he'd been taken to Ampora's kingdom. His strings are gone and everything he knows is, too.

Unconnected.

Disconnected.

 

Thinking of the word makes him feel anxious.

 

Moons stare down overhead at the long stretch of beach, crags and rocky crops stuck out. The sand that was once Gamzee blows through his fingers, Karkat turning to see where it goes when it brings him to see the pupa.

He's surprised, of course. Sharing blinks with them, as if he'd never seen a wriggler before. They're clearly-- extremely --young, grub skin still soft from pupation, still tinged flush from their color (Purple, his head supplies) and new soft horns that are shaped like another pair he knows; no Lusus or parent troll in sight. He sounds for one, for someone or something to come for him.

Karkat thinks he remembers, that Gamzee told him about this already.

He thinks.. hopes .. that he knows why he's here, at this point, aside from the obvious, real reason.

Karkat makes the slowest, careful steps, barefoot in the sand, toward the pupa. The waves make noise to fill the silence, cover up any sudden, sharp sounds as Karkat approaches. When he's as close as he's allowed, Karkat lowers himself to the sand, sitting down. Keeping his hands open in front of him and where they can see, soft gaze on the pupa as he croons out gentle noise, soft trills and chirps, even his own noise for his Lusus.

At the very least, he wants them to know he's not here to hurt them.

 

Before the spidery being Gamzee had become can fully slip through the door, the pupa who had been playing in the grass looks up and stands with furrowed brows, going right up toddling to the long-legged interloper.

"Hey!" The pupa has to take out the paccy from his mouth, still teething for his big pupa fangs, in order to speak-- he's just learned to speak too, and he wants to use every word he's got like he doesn't have the time-- certainly doesn't for this dummy to go through doors they don't need to go through.

"Hey!" he shouts more insistently, squeaky little voice aside, "Exs'shuse me," evidently, he's still learning, "You can't jusht go in there-- there's a monsht - a mon-- a monster !!" They pout and make a face that looks like it's supposed to be angry but it's just plain adorable, as they point an accusing finger at the door, "It tried to eat me, y'know!?"

He know what's in that door-- that's why he's been sitting there, guarding it, and making sure no one goes in there, nor that it comes out. He's fearless, even against this intrusive being traipsing through his domain; hard to fear anything ever, after meeting a thing that tells you how it's going to eat you.

Though the door is already open, and when it's apparent that he's not getting through to the being that wants to go in, he lets go of it's leg in a huff, big eyes glossy as he sniffles.

"FIne! If you-If you wanna go then go! I don't care if it eats you, you dummy!!" He turns around with a small, teary 'hmph!' and a big sniffle, going back to his spot and picking up the plushdoll he dropped, "...'s not like I wanted to protect you anyway...," he hunches on himself and wipes tears and snot across his sleeve.

 

It is dark, beyond the door, as if the space is it's own void. It hovers in the space, in it's domain, using a shape that doesn't belong to it. Using that shape to barely glance over it's bare shoulder, wearing something vaguely like the topmost layer of Zhen's many-layered dress, though it looks like it might fall off any moment.

Gamzee wouldn't know a horrorterror unless it went and burrowed into his pan, and even then, he still wouldn't get it.

Familiar lips part-- though both that and it's voice are distorted.

It's overall features of the body it's using is distorted, longer, lithe, sharp. Even the face, while sharing the same, sweet, gorgeous face of it's host, this being has cruelty in it's smile, sharper fangs too.
It's voice is dark but lilting, giggling behind a hand-- again, the same delicate hand, but sharper and cruel, longer claws --and sounds as if there is more than just one mouth from where it speaks, more than one voice.

"..........I ̧do̸n͏'̴t̵ t͡hin͘k͟ ͜yo̴u ͞belon͢g͜ ̶h̀èr̨e̢,̧ ̛mo̡th͟er͝f͟uck͜er..."

 

*

 

The pupa watches the troll with that same glassy, tired-eyed look. A bored expression. If he has any instincts to be afraid, they're muted enough that he'd rather warm his perpetually cold body in the residual heat of the sand -- and he doesn't recognise those noises, besides.

He starts to bury his legs, taking all the time in the world.

They have all the time in the world. He knows it. He knows, already, that no one will come for him if he calls -- he can make all the noise he wants, it'll just tire him out and make him stare at the sky until it opens.

One thing of note is his lack of pupa fat; it's already gone, eaten up by his body. Even with his slow metabolism and nightly routine of sitting and waiting, he hasn't found much to put in his mouth; what he has found has usually been spat out, or too tough for his soft, rounded teeth to crack.

Once his legs have been covered in sand, he pulls them free, and goes back to staring out at the ocean.

A few times, he's tried to jump in.

Each time he remembered that's where he goes to die.

Eventually, the pupa's attention returns to the other troll, and he bleats again, tossing a handful of sand near the shore.

That's where his Lusus is.

He's waiting for his Lusus to come back.

His Lusus will come back, even if only to set eyes on Gamzee before submerging itself under the waves.

When he's older, he's going to --

 

Gamzee swims around the horrorterror, lacking form. He'll entertain Karkat with his red strings -- Karkat had too many red strings, though -- but this thing doesn't even know to accept his gift.

He speaks in string instruments, tongue-in-throat, dissolving and dissipating; touching without hands.

He's The Grand Highblood's descendant. If he can't handle a lazy, contented horrorterror, then he'll put himself in the Sun and wait for his brain to melt out his ears.

 

*

 

How annoying .

It wonders if this is the cause of it's host's frustration, what makes the walls of it's void shake so recently.

It doesn't quite care for Gamzee-- Gamzee Makara, yes, it knows who he is, and it doesn't really care for that tiresome plinking he's doing.

Even formless, he can't escape it, it cares not for such a form that reminds it of it's origins-- how rude --and it binds him into flesh and carapace, dragging him to ground that isn't there but the void acts like there is, keeping Gamzee between 'ground' and it's foot.

This is it's domain, and it has no intention of leaving it's host when it isn't ready.

"Oh͏, ͝n̵o̸, ̢I҉ ̸d͞oǹ'̨t͟ want̸ anyth̸i͞ng̵ ̵fr͡o͝m yo̧u. ̧Y̶o̸u ha͘ve n̷ot͢hįn̷g͟ I w͡a͜n̷t.̢" It's tone borders between matter-of-factly and patronizing. "I'v͞e̛ me̛t ͏you ͟ ͢t̀wi̴ce be̡f͘o͡re, I bel͟i̵ȩv́e. D̡i͡dn̸'͠t̡ ̕wa̢nt̛ ̷a҉n̵y̛t҉hinǵ t̵h͏e̵n, ͝d͠o͟n'̶t ̕want a͡n̨yt̸hing ̸n͟ow.͜ "

It grinds barefooted heel into Gamzee's chest, beautiful smile with far too many teeth as it presses down on the bone, slightly creaking; blinking changes it's eyes from full white, to pitch black, and then to something more generically troll. It doesn't need to blink, of course, but it's does when it suits it.

 

Karkat watches as he buries himself in the sand, just to undo it and toddle to where the sea rises on the sand. He follows in worry that the pupa might try and go in to the water, but he's relieved when he doesn't. Makes that sound at him and tosses a handful of sand out to the water.

Karkat wonders how long it's been since their Lusus last surfaced.

If there was any fear in the pupa, it doesn't show it; or rather, he's too tired and hungry to be afraid, which Karkat has to smile a little bit for-- that reminds him of someone.

He comes close again, this time right next to the pupa, open-palmed hand reaching out. If he gets bitten, he gets bitten, he can't fault him for that. This place isn't his, he has no control over it, so he can't get upset at that.

His own instincts says there's food in the wooding just behind the beach, it's just a matter of getting the pupa to come with him. Karkat can't leave him there, at least he doesn't think he can.

Chirping softly for their attention before putting a gentle hand to their small shoulder-- he's so small, his body looks as if it's eating itself up, wasting from the inside out all because he won't leave, waiting for their Lusus.

"Hey...," Karkat's voice breaks the silence of the waves, more than bleats and chirps, "..please, come with me? I've got you..," the pupa is even colder than he's small, and Karkat smooths his hand across his back as if he can chase the coldness away, "..c'mon, please? I've got you."

 

*

 

Gamzee blinks, and time snaps violently forward.

He's still a pupa, maybe a sweep-and-a-half, crusted in sand and salt; the Sun has gotten to him in small ways, the backs of his hands peeling, a patch of lavender showcasing a larger, older burn tracking his shoulder.

The air is thick with rot.

If he's grown, it's hardly noticeable; his eyes have that same dull sheen to them, and he regards the beached seagoat -- his Lusus -- with the same apathy with which he regards Karkat.

 

The beast would look to be sleeping if its side weren't torn open, its innards long-since spilled free, plucked off by lesser beasts to be consumed in the depths.

Still loose-limbed, Gamzee bleats, and wanders over to the corpse, sinking himself against a cheek. The skin is loose but the fur, on this side, still has some shine and sheen to it; the beast was healthy before being killed.

Another bleat, like he's inviting the troll to come sit with him -- because he's seen trolls from afar. He's seen their bodies, too.

After a moment of thought, he clicks instead, wondering if he'll get a positive response.

 

 

His ribs snap, clamping outward; Gamzee's face shifts rapidly from troll-to-troll.

He has enough power, flexing it, chuckling in the voices of all those he's slain.

 

" Ḽ̴̡̛̜̮͚̳̻͔͓͚̆̅̿ḙ̵͔̫̒ͅṭ̴̨͓̗̻̰͇̏͌̈́̔͐͝'̴͎͙͗̂̌̀̈́͌s̶̥͎̘͙͖͑̏̈́ͅ ̶̨̱͌̈̅̃d̴͇̯̅̆̉ơ̵̻̳̗̥̄͆́̄̏̿̕͘̚ ̵̺̦̩͙̜̱̻́̒̊͛̓̆͌̿̕͘͜i̸͖̬͚̜͒̾͂̋͠t̵͎̩̼̥̠̭̓̌̊̉̂́̋͛̊͝ ̴̢̡͕̪̞͉̖̘̻̇̉̐͂͐͂̈͘͘͝y̸̛͖̳̰̦͔̐̂͂̈́̃͝ǫ̸̡̤̯̱̙̔͊͂͆̒̚u̷̧̜̫̎ŕ̶͕͍͙̘͚̐͜͝͝ ̶̘̼͎̞̞͉̩̥̑̓͘w̸̱̰̐a̸̡̯̮̯͇͚̜̾̋̇̿͆̇̅̕͜y̷̼̬̘̰̹̻̝̖̖̑̍͝.̷̢̼̝̤̹̦͚̗̯͍̀͆̉̅͝., then, motherfucker ." His voice bounces off the walls, becomes its own identity; he stretches his power and influence and laughs.

 

In the caverns, Kurloz's hands stop their stitching.

He can hear Gamzee laughing.

 

*

 

It grins with an unreal kind of malice; watching Gamzee push out and rise, throw his voice around-- as if he can do anything here; as if he can do anything to it.

"A̶t ͢l̛eàs̶t͝ y̵o̡u̧'ve ̛st̢o͟p̴ped ̀being ̸ ąn̶noyi͞n̸g. "

 

Part of the glamour drops, releasing shadowy tendril to snake out, one for each limb, as if it means to rend Gamzee apart, even for the other limbs that reach out. It goes back to hovering lazily, clearly unfazed by the show of power and just watching; whatever Gamzee tries, it's sure that it will all be useless before it.

 

 

Time seems to move while Karkat stands, and when he next looks at the pupa, it's clear they've changed; just a little taller but not by much, still far too thin. Their skin is riddled with blemishes and injuries, most of them are just from trying to survive out here, Karkat bets.

Before them now, on the beach, a great seagoat lays. For a moment, Karkat is in awe, never having seen one. Only for him to gasp as he sees the great gash on the side that's up, remnants of entrails and gore are all that remains of it's insides.

Pity wells up heavy, his gaze sweeping back over the pupa as they bleat. Then they click at Karkat, those big grey tired eyes on him. The pupa moves just to sit by the head as he clicks back, coming toward them and their dying-- if not already dead --Lusus. Karkat waits, just long enough to gauge their reaction, before he sits beside them.

Reaching out again, trailing fingers over where they've been burned; it's an old one, but they must not have been able to cover all of themself from the Sun. Even their hands are peeling.

Karkat has nothing here, no medicine or bag to pull helpful shit out of. He's only got himself, and he's sure that's of very little comfort to the pupa. Even so, as much as they let him, Karkat pulls them into his side, brushing off as much sand as he can get and humming that song that's been stuck in his head; when the words tumble out, he's not sure if he's singing it in Alternian or Beforian, but he's sure the meanings become different.

 

*

 

Gamzee laughs, and the red strings lift, tighten, pick up everything in a neat little pouch.

Kurloz does not have the same care as Gamzee - or, if he does, then he does not exercise it while slitting open the Indigoblood's mind, parting loose flesh. Past the steam is a small bag, something they'd use to carry caegers.

The violence with which they're stabbed through and uprooted has Gamzee howling wildly, but Kurloz never misses.

 

The pupa had been looking up at Karkat, pulling in a hollow breath to say something, when Karkat had been flung back into his mind; Gamzee's not moving.

 

He should be moving, and he is awake, but he's just curled atop Karkat, cheek to his mate's chest.

His hollow breath indicates some kind of distress -- an automatic response to fear.
Or, maybe it's awe.

Awe in the way Kurloz picks apart this lazy, arrogant horrorterror. Awe in the disregard he has for his blood brother, picking him apart, as well. Awe for the useful remnants of the horrorterror (there isn't much).

They drift underwater, submerged deep in the sea; seagoats bellow around them, in the distance.

Gamzee wants to go home but he knows the futility of it, knows that Kurloz will laugh; and while Kurloz knows all this, he still chuckles darkly.

Where is home?

That pupa would probably point to the sea, while Gamzee, now, is mindlessly nuzzling into Karkat's breast, shaking and keening.

 

He'd say how much it hurts to exist within Kurloz if his consciousness were with him.

 

*

 

Karkat strokes gently over the pupa, dusting off his back, arms and legs, if he lets him, then the face; if not by the way his bones try and show through the flesh-- flesh that is far too thin and starved than a pupa this age should ever have to be --then in his face it is especially apparent that he's starved (hunger-starved, touch-starved, affection-starved).

As a mutant, Karkat had always been lucky to have a Lusus, even one that was semi-aquatic, trying to stay on land with him for as long as it could until it became too dry. Had been luckier still that Kanaya took to picking him up and caring for him until his Lusus could reemerge from whatever pond or lake it scuttled into; lucky that he had Kanaya to give him the other half of affection and attention that he needed growing up, to call his name, call him 'sweetness'.

 

This pupa wasn't able to have any of that.

They turn to him, suddenly but not, looking up at Karkat, as if to speak or sound.

He gives them his whole attention, gentle smile--

 

The world opens up again and Karkat is falling, gentle smile turned to shock-- the sensation of loss --as he's flung back in moonbrightened fields, landing flat on his back in a way that jarrs everything from mind to body--

Karkat's body arcs up suddenly, eyes wide and still filmed over with purple, mouth open in a soundless scream, something ringing in his ears, unable to breathe-- something holds him from breathing.

 

 

A second interloper-- i҉nt̶r̡u̸̷͝d͢͝ȩr̴͜ , it seethes --messes up the fun of taking their current entertainment apart. It has a litany of curses and insults, hurling them at the new invader, plucking away at it's stolen form--

 

̙͙͚͉̹̞͈͟w̶̡̭̹̭̥͔̖̦r̙̭͉͎̤̱̫͚͕͠ę͍͈̫͓̕ţ̯̯̖̤̰̥c̷͎͚̥͕͠h̵̗̩̖̟̱͔͘ ̪̦͖̺̻̺̤̠́͜ ̡̧͎̹̬̘͈̺̰ ̡̣͙ͅ ̙͙̭͚ͅͅ ̴̻̰̣̝ ̲͍͍͈̭͕̫͍ ̢͍̭̯ ̶̤̲̭̲̠̘̣̪ ̴͔͞ͅ ̀͏̢̝̦̬͍̟ ̛͇̦̟̜ ̸̛̪̥͘ ͏̷̧̺͔̩̖̝̝̝ͅ ̟͠ ͙̪̯̖̀ ̸̧̩͉̺̙̘͘ ̛͚̖̙͈͉̕ ̴͈̪͍̦ ̴̨̭̲̼͇̙̘͇ ͕̩̟͖̬͚͎̻͖ ̸̵̹̻̫͜ ͇̮͎̪ ̢̡̨̳͖͓̠̖̯ ̸̲͇̯̥̦̝̱͡ ̲̀͞ ̨͖͍̀ͅ ̸̣̮̬͖̟̘̦̠ ̻͍̖̯̖͈̞̮͘͘ ̻͇̰͇̤̱̜͍̜ ̛̱̺͙̫̳̥͕̝̀͟ͅ ͈͈̮͙̦͢ ̭̘͖̤̫ ̷͈̘̰̟̬ͅ ̩̫̝̰͇͎ͅ ̘̺̬̱̲̬̻̀͞ ̷̝̺͇̙̗͇ ̨̻̰ ̣̘͚̀ ̸̶̶̺̦ ͙̙̞̣͍̼̩ͅ ͈̟̤̯̣͡͞ ̥ ̡̦̭͉̫̼͝ ̶̠͝ ͓̖̦̪͎͘ ҉̵̙͈̱͚ ̶̦̞̟͓̼̗̞̞ ͖̙̕ ͎̜̀ ͏̨͈̪̰̯͜ ͏̪̰̯̼̼̗͕͝ ̶̛̩̬͈͎̞̘ ̴͓̬̙ ̸̞f̴̡̤̳̺̠̟̟͓i̷̦̭̲͢l̨̥͙͚̰̩̭̤̪̀͜ͅt̥̰̹̻͍̕h̰͖̻͎͇͓̣̫ ̨̱͓͓̭̘̼

̶̛͙̝

̢̠̭̱͓̣̜̪͢ ̨̞̞̳̫̠͎͓̜͈ ̛̛̥̩̞̤̥̬̞̞͠ ̷̤͙̰̠̳ͅ ̵͓̩̱͙̟̳̱͠ ̦͎̠͚́̀ ̘͓̭͔̳̲̙̪ ̧͙̖͕͓͉͞ ̴̛̼̱ ̷̵̛̦͈ ̡͔ ̴̖̻̲̮ͅ ̷̢͍̦̤̪̲͡ ̦͓̣̕ ̸̻̜̞̀v̴̵̺̫́i̴̼͙̥̳͇l̬͍͈͇͙͖̤̬͡͡e͉̦̲̳̻̣̗͞ ̙̪̻̺̝͕̞ͅt̡͔́h̴̸̞͔̼ͅị̶̢̱̦̰͔ņ̵̡͔̞g̛̻͕̻̯͟͠ͅ ̡̬̰̠͔͇͕͈̀ ̤̦͔͟ ̧̣̝̩̗ͅͅ ̢̢̼̤̖̯̲̲ ̪̲̬̘͘ ͕̣̩̰̜͇̳͖̕͡ ̨̢̧̦͚͕̻̼ ̘͙̣̬̕ ̵̠͇̱͘͝ͅ ̶̠̺͖͝ͅ ̵̭̦ͅ ̷̯̠̬̺͜͟ ̲̳͉̳̯̮̗ ̵͎͎͈͜ ̗͇ ̷̙͉̩̱ ̸͖̰̬̹͞ ͔͓ ̙̘̻̪ ̧̧̮̠͓̻h̷̛̘͔ó̫͠w̶͝҉̩̞͇̥̱͖̰̝̱ ͔̥̱͙͢ ̬̤̦̣͚̘͔͜ ̺ ̸̹̳̥̼̱͎̻͇ ̺̪͍͔͖͢͝d͇͓̕ ̡͓͙̫͟͟à̶̘͙͎̗͕̯ ̷̡͉͔͉̩͔̹͜r̨͎̱̦̘̦̖̩̪ ̘͠é̡̯͕̣̝͔͇͠ ̢̙̺͢ ̭̲̭̪̗͙͇ ͇͕̯̮̬̜ ̸͕̻̝͍̰̝̥̟̱ ̹͠y̴̛͔̗͎̘̥͙̬͉͟o̟̱̞̯̠̙̫̬̟͞ṳ̩̯̹̪̼͉͜ ͏̵͖̪

̦̘̩͚͢͡

̯̘͖̗͢ ̴͏̥͓ ̗̙̤͚ ͙̗̱̲͕̼͓̯͜ ̢͎̹͙̫̠͕͔͞ ̷̛̘̥̗̗͙͢ͅ ̢̬̯̠̱̫͞ ̞͎̭͚ͅ ̰͈̠͕̼̤̤̩͍͢ ̢̺̳͔̣̳͖ ҉̘̹̻̹̼̙̹ ̢̡͍̬͈͙͟ͅ ̛̤̗̘̯̟͕̟͚̠ ̡͈̜̠͠ ̶͠͏̬̪̹̭͇͕͓̞ ̭̣̮̥̯̻̻̙́ ͏̼̰̫͡ ̵͏̱̬ ̡̰̩͓͇̤̦̮̫ ̮̙̞͉̫̯͘ ̭͚͟͡ ̥̠̪͖͚͝ ̨҉͇̻̯͉͖̲͈͎̥ ̬̠͎̯̙̺̪͢ ̵̡͚̲̩̥ ̵̛͙̱͚̯͓͖̱͈͟ ̤̦̲̞̝̤̀͞ ̭̲ ͏̴̦͕̰ ̲ ̳͜͡d̴̴͎̗̲̭͙̰̖̹e͖͉̩̮̭͘͠t̥͚̼̩̜̻̥̦͞͞h̻̝̭̜̥̭͘͢͡r̲̮̳̺̘͠o̼͓̞̤̦̝̹͡n̮͔͙̩̘͟͞e̵͙̼͝d͚̲̪̜́ ͎̫̠̰͚p̹͖͕̰̭͎̣r̙̠͎̭̥͈̖̺͢ͅi͙͍̰͎̠ņ̠̩̦̪̩c̵̜̟͈̙̼̪̮͢e̢̥͉̩͙ ͔̙̭͙͈̜͟
̹̬̞̬̼̣ͅͅ ̜̼̥̫h̺͓o͖̩̦͖͙̫̦͠͝w̵̵̳̝͔d̮̯͚̜̥̰a̛͈̻̩̫̦̤̱͕̜r͏҉̙̞͇͉̻͈̗e̤̰̜͙͍̘͕̝͟͡y̷̲̬̗̪̠͇͟o͓̬̘̺͢u̷͉̙h҉͕̻̣̖͓̘̖͈ͅo̢͇͙͟͝w̛̪͍͜͜d̀͏͏͙̝̹̫ͅa̭̹̞͖̩͙̘͔͙͘r̸̖̜e̠̮̳̖̖͇y͉̤͖̹̞̯͜͢ờ̸̗u̸̦̫͚̭̜͇͔̯h͙̖͙̩̩̟͝o̟̻͉̣̞w̹̙̪͔d͏̧̹͎̲͎̰̼̝̹ͅà̛̠͖̤͖̯̫r͇̯͎͙̣͈̘̹͝e̝͕̘̗͖͔͔̝̬͘y̨͚̫̩̥̩̦o͈͎͓̦̭̼̟͘u̴͚͕͎̯͖̣̦̖͞h̙͎̟̹̤͕o҉͉̪̱̪̗̯͡ẁ͉̖͉̝̗̩͞d̶̩̬͚̠̤a̝͍̠͉r͖͍̩͇̙͇è̵̯͍͖ͅy̮͚̠̺͠ͅo̧̧͙͍͖͈͖͈̜̠u̶͖̯̣͡ͅh͓̣̖́̀ͅo̤̕̕͠w̛̩̗̺̖̩̟͙d̜̪͓̠͈͟ą̸͚͎̣̹̮ͅr̖̱͍̲̹̫̩̩͢͞͞ę̡̱̺͙͚̝y͏̼̖̲͉ǫ̙̘̩̫̣̘̲̬̻̕ư̵҉͈̼̖̭̞̤h̙̘̖̰̤͍̰͘͢o̶̴̢̰̱̬͇w̨͈̘͉d̫̞͎͙̳̦̯̼͝a̸̝͓̮̼̟̫r̢͙̮̲̮e̴̴̫̗̘͉͇y̹̞̪͈͙̗̪̩͠o̭̰͎̺u͉̼͓͕̳̰͘͢h̲͖͈̖̜͍̠̣ͅo̵̧̜̣̭͖͓͍̻w̨͉̠͈̳̺̗̻̳ͅd̜̪͎͉͔̙͇͠a̷̠̘̜r͇̞̖̲̱̬͕̥͡͝͞e̢͙͈͉͍̜̠̪͞y҉̢̩̳͚̮̹͡o̵̩̜̬̝͙̲u̷͏͔̜̭̼̪h̙͚̞̬͕̗͉͈ͅo̢͉̱͜͠ͅw̤̟̘͓̖͕͟d̴̵̯͓ą̘͙̰̪̹̱́͢ͅr̵͍̼e̸̺͇̤̘̱̳͕͙͠y̰̗̬̩͝ơ̧̭͍̭͎u͇͓̗͓̹h̭̣̱̦̬̞̭́͠o̠̥͔̝̫͖̝w̶̟͙͇d͙̭͠a̶͙̣̜̻̪̙̖̰ŗ̹͈͔̤̺̪͜ȩ̻͉̯̦͙̪͕̀y̨̦͓̻͞o̷͚͙͇̬̺̬͈u̱ͅh̴̤̠̼ͅo̸̫̝w̻̼̫̭̺͙̹̜ͅd̷̲̗͙̯̲̘̥̮̠͟a̴̵̝͇̮̱̼̥̟ŗ͙e̗̙͙̯͙y͏̜͕̫̖̻̳͡ͅo҉̗u̟͙̜̤͠h̴̰̣͝o̶̡̦̩̕w͢͏̦d̺̥̘̞͍͔a͓̹̳͖̻̖͙͟͠ͅŗ͓̠̯̳̯̼͉͎è̸͉͎̺̠y͏͖̱̻̗̱̞̘̬o͇̰̼̖̬̠̞̬͜u̫͉̜̱̱̞̟h̰̼̜̣ọ͔w̵̫̦̳̘͇͇̤̺͔͘͜d̻̫͈̦͕à̼̲͇̲̝́͢r̨͏̙̣e̳͖̫̮̱̞y̮̞͡͞ò̷̧̙̮̹̮̙u̷̘͓͈̹̜̺͜ͅh̨͖̱͖̱̱o̧̤̖̟͢͝w̯̣ḑ̟͈̗͘ͅa̡̖͍̣̙͜r͉̞̙̰̻̳̱e̵̵̹͔̲̞̭̞̭̙y̨̘̬͈͖̰o̡͔̖u̯͉h͚̦͉̳͈̱͚ͅo̱͕̯͙̰̻͎̬͢ẁ̞͙͈͕̱̹̦͝ͅd̜͕̮͔ͅą̛̠̣̰r̝̼̬̠͘͟͠e̴̻̯̭͚͘y̶̨̟̟̫͢o̶̸͎̮͟ͅu̧͎̪͙̬͇̫͢h͞͏̼̹̣̫̼͕̺o̸̹͔̯̝̹͚͜w̺̲͈̦̼d҉̘͕̱͙͈a̴̵͓͚̞ͅr̶̜̪͚̘̣͙͙̬e̗y͏͕̼͙̱̯͉ò̻̙̼̼̺̞͘u̵͇̩̼̝͈̭͖̕h̶͖͖̳̗̦̟̮͠ó̲͝w̡̜͍̰̼͍̹͘d̶̨̰̻̰̟̤̺͇̼a҉̠̘̞̲͝ŗ҉̼̩͔̤͓e̡̠͢͞ý̹̮͍͔͎̲o͍̱̣̜͍̬ų͖̲̮̣̥̮̲̬͢h̶̦͖̕o̧̧͎͖̞̙̲̕ͅw͏̶̝͇̹͝d̷̥͖͙͙͎̣̻̱͘ͅa̗͕̟̪̼̼̞̯ṟ̷̟̭̩̪ḛ̞̖̠̭y̸͚͉͓̘͢o̮̬u͚͕͙̜͚̺̠̟h̷̝̖̞̗ǫ̺̟̲̺̀͞w̶̡̙̫͉̼͎̪̬d͓͉̗̞̜͓͇̻͞a͏͓̹͍̣͈̝̪̰͎r͖̺̰̪̱̳̖͚ȩ͚͓̙y̫͔͟o̳̖̰̫͍̕u̬̣̘̣̘̠̳̱ͅh͉͈̦̗͟ò̖͎̮̱w̹̗̺̣͢͢͡d̪͕̖͖̩͎̞a͏̠͇͕͇̤̖͈͚͙̀r̜͉̜̰̯̜͜e̬̝̝̹̩̙ỳ̴̠̘̳o͍͖̞̟̖̲͉͠u̜̤̤̺h̘̮̞̟̱͎ͅo҉̬̯̘̕w͏͏̭̱d̢͉̯̩͠a̪̰̠̤̯̫͕r̤̱̤̖͍͖̫e̡̺͈y̺̰̖̠̥͢o̵̦̻͉͜ų̰̩̩̝̞͖̞h̶͈̠̦̬̰͡ͅͅo̢͔̠̕w̵̻̪̲̠͙͈̫̥̺d̸̟̤̹̳̻̲a̻͖͖̥̬̩̼͜͡ŕ͟͏͖̫̱͉e̥̠̬̖y̷̕҉̪͚͈̜̙ơ͉̰̬̲̲̭̫̦͟u̝̳̬̜̙͜h̭̮̻̯͇̥o̸͔̝̟͢͢w̗͖͖d͏͚̜͖̯̙̕a҉̺̤̺̮̟ͅr͜҉̜ͅe̶̶̲͖̗̞̖̹y̷̵̲̩͔̳͕̩o̡̝̻ų̜̝̺̺͚͈͘ͅh̨̰̬̰̟̻̪͇ͅo̲̤̞̦̻͠w̴̧͎̦̭͎d͜͏̧̹̟͍̭̠a̷̱̣̝̟ͅr̷̡͍͕̰̭̜ẹ̛̲̟̺̥̖͡y͏̻̠̹̱̯̪͇͖͘͝o̼̬̘̳͙̹̤̕͠u̢ͅh̶̩̝̬̺̼͢͝ͅǫ̸̼̞w̵̳̫͇̹̣̗d̡͖̟̱a̛̫̬̱͈͖̦͇̖r̳e̸̫͙̼͔̻̜̰ͅy̷̵̡̮̩̗͚̩̫̩͉o̸͚̗͇̥̯̫̣̗̣͝ư͔͇͖̰͟͡h̡̰͔͓̀o̧͚̥̖͖w̶̙̪̜̯͘ͅd̵̤̲͔͖͙̜̪̩̕a̶͇̖̝̲̳͎̹ͅr̛̹̹̻̮͎e͍͇̪y̴͈̺͢o̶̤̝̥̫̜̼̖͜ͅu̵̜͉̱̭̮̬͉͕̪h̶̪̫̕ó̷̵͖̬͉͇͖͎͚ẉ̡̘̭̀d̢͍a҉̻̙ͅr̵̵̡̯͓̱̹̻͖͉͍e͕̥̜̜̯̲̺y̶̱͙̯̯̮̫͘͘ò͇̫u̡͎͉͙͇̞͖̥ẖ̣̲͔̘͓͠o͎̼̙̗̤̤w̸̬͙̕ͅd̶̙̹̱͝a̡̟͉̖̻̖̭͓̣r̜̘͈̪̼͈̞̼e̤̫͍̬ͅy̙͘͞o͖̱u̷͚͍h̵̝̗̗̼̺͎͝o͎̺̬̹͝w̵̞̱̰͎̩͢d̸̪̀a͉̭̦̞͚̲̤͕͠r̨̞͎̻͚̭͉͙̯e҉̷̧̣̯̳̪͙̦̘y̢̨̗̝̻̟͙̣̩o̻͇̫̹̜ṳ̫͇̪͓͘͝h̶̦̘̼͇̭̻̯ͅo̡̼͈w͏̥̩̯̫d̹̱͉̭̱͜a̴̬̦͚ŕ̥̱̱͕ͅè̴̪͖͉̰͇̞y̯̤̦̲̬o̘͔̮͙̼̬̩̬͝u̷͞͏̞̦̜͍͚̙h̡͈̦͇̻̼̟̙̤o͚̪̗̥̮̕͜͡ẁ̶̭͓̣d̵̛̫̮͞a͉̯̱̞͕͚̩r̸͙̥̭͝e̹͙̞̜̩̹̮̟͢y̱̗̼͎o̡̙͉̯̹̬̱̫̖ư̥̼͇̣̫̬͞h̡̙ò̱͍͚̞͉͔͢w̷̡͍͍̲̰d̷̥͍͈̦̼̪̖a̪͉̼̬̠̣͠r͍̻͙̘̠͟e̵̶̘̗̰y̪̩̜̘͖̯̟̻o҉͔̦̭͚͎͖ͅṳ̣h҉͇̻̲̭̱͙̭̼̝͟o͏͏̱͚͉͖͓͚ͅw̸͙̻̘̟̪̥͍̜͎d͉̼̜̟̼͇͉͍̕a̸͍̥͕̞r̵̩̰̹̳̼̀e͙̘͝͞y̶̛̪̝͖̪o̙͘u͎͚̣̰̮͇ḩ̷͇̥̠͓̟ò͏̶̙̭͍͍̫̱̘͍w͇̙̘̱̖͖̼͞ḏ͈̳̱̭̪͢á̱͈̠̼́̕r͕̀̕e̝͓͎͎͇̕y̡̬̥o̧̞̥̬͍̘͙̱u͓͉͝h͍͕̼͙̪͞ó̺̪w̹̝͈̱͖͓͕̲ͅd͖͖̟̤͞a̭͔͓̰̣͉͜r̙̺̳͔͙̼͓͎͝e͕̬͎͙͝͝y̟̲o̡̻͈̩͇̺̭͚̻ư̡̡̺͚͚ḫ͇̜͉͞o̶̡͓̫̻̗̫ẃ̙̝͕̟͚d̛̫̞̣́à̴͇͓̜͢r̫͚͈̯͍e̵͎̮͓̤̤̮̠͟y̛̱̲̝͖̪̤̖͍͝o̶̶̫̺̻ụ̙̱̗̼̫͓h͓̖̬̀̕͠o̶̲̠̗͖̗̗̹̲͟w͙̯̠͚͚͖d͞͏̭͇̘̹a̴̛̲̫̯̮͡r̷̵͉͉̘͜e̴̦̺̥͉ͅy̨͇͚̹̗̞̭ò̞͈̭̰̝̫̞̖u̡̼̻̼h̸̜̦̣͉́o̡̩͔͘͝w̴̴̠̖̼d̶̩͚̯̻͎̫̠a̛̛͎̤̩̭͉͈̞̥r̠̳̹̱̞͢e̯͙̕ỵ̨͚͎ͅo̶̰̙̱u̴̺͔̹͘h̰̫̠͡o̴̗͉̟͖̤̠̯͈̫w͖͇̜̬̰ͅd̷̼͔͓̪͇͕͟͠á͈̻̯͔̻̙̯͚̖͢͞r̫̰̝͍̭ę̸͓̼̣̙̣̙̳̖͡y͉͎̘͞o̱̕u̶̸̴͉̰̤h̸̩̹̟̘̜͖̲͖o̴̦̹͙͈͍̞̠̼͈͠w̷̷̴̰̮͓͍̯͎̺d̴̺̥̠̥̯͘͠ͅa͏̶͏̪̤̰̪̫r̢̙̬̰̞͙͘͟e̴̸̜̪̥̩̥͜ỳ̦̗͉̲̘̤̩̬o̬̕ù̷͎̻̱̩̘h҉͏̗̥̱̣o̩̭̠͝w҉̮͝d҉͏̣̺͍͎͚̰̣a̵͕̗̟̩̯͓̭̙ŕ͙̺͍̱͈̭͈e̡̙͙̼̠̕ý̹̘̩̹͕͙̕o̵̤̦̰͝u͓̬̖̭͎̹̬h͜҉̰̹̭̻̭̬͚̩o̥͉͎̱̦̹͍͓͜w̙̗̜̤̟d̝͖͕̹̝̰͙̠͔́́͞a̪̘̫̺̰̪̳ͅͅrͅe̛̦̺̘͕̞̩̳̕y̢̪͈͘o̵̧̹̪̱͍͙̙̠̯̪u̗̜h̸̥̟͉̗̳̘͜ͅo͇̯͎w̦̪̫̦ͅd͕̭̣́̀a̙͇̳͉̰̲̕͠ṛ̵̞̮͇̕e̠͉̩̠̜̫̱̕y̴̡̞͎͔̠̻̰͈o̞̪͇̲͕̝̙̲u͢͏͙̘͎ḩ̬̣̦͠ò̙͔͜͞ẃ̷̲̱̠̝̞͎̹̘̙͡d҉̥͈̣̠̯a҉͍͈͍̠̦͇̕r͚͍̳͓̤̥̜͞ḙ̢̛͕̝̘̯̤͘ͅý̟͙̘̝̪̣̩̟ọ̞̞͔̳͎̰͡ú̢͇͓ͅh̵͕̲̟̭͘o͍̯̤̣̪̯ẃ̭̰̺̻͚̺͝d̹̫̘̳a̴̯͙͡ŗ̲̹̤̟̠̫̭́͢e͜͏̩͙̹̹͉̻y̵̼̙̦͍͓̕͢ǫ̮͍̺̘͉̜u̳͙̘͓̦̜͔̰͘ḩ̨̯̗̙̫̯o̻̲̱̪̣͞w̶̨̮̠͜d҉̛̗͈̫̯a͏̶̱̟̭͙̮̣̲r̵̢̝͇e̮̟͍̫̙̕ý̫o̕҉̦̭̫͍̣̩̲͙ù͇̼̖h̤̀o̭̹͙̬̥͠w̗̰̗͍̯͎d͚̞͔͍͝a̵̡̢̜̭̫͍̯r̵̴̫̥͙̥̹e͘͏̺̘y̡̮̕o̹͚͕̦͟u̡͚̘͕̩̰̭͉̮h̲͔̟͔͎͡͞ͅo̶̯̳w̴͏̠̳̱͕͍̲ͅͅd̴̺̭̘̫ą̫̺r̦̲̘̺̩͉̻̟̞̕ȩ̢̝y͕̙̮o͓͈̜͖͢͟u͇͍̻̣̹͝ͅh̖̮̺̦̜̙͞o̢͔̖͖͡w̲d҉̨̡̲á͙͍͖͔͖͉̲̣̘ŕ̬̼̹̘͓̘̰̲e̴̙͘y͠҉͚̭͇̼̳o͡͏̝͔̹͈͉̗͠ų͙̯͉̺̺̀͡h̙̗̦̀͠o̸̸̖͇͓̻͉͈w̮͎͙͇͚̘ͅd̲̙̻̝͙͘a̷̠͈̜͎̟͜r͘҉̰̲͖e̸̡̛͕̫y̸̭͓̙͈̤̬̫͔ò̴̦͓̖̭͝ṷ̷̧͡h̡̗̻͙̕͝o̮̱̹͕͉̝̦̕w̦̪̻̼̥̠͈d̴̞̘̼̥͍̯̦̥̻a̸̜̙r̴̟̭̖̦̭͠e͏͏͓̼̘͚̰ý͙̖͇͖̱͠͝o̸͈̘̫̥̲͠u͇̪͚ḥ̛̝͈̕͡o̪͎͎͕̰̮̞̲͡w͏̦͚̭̙̬͝ͅͅd̴̮̬͎́a̸͚͍͕̟̤͇̲̮͈r̩̝͝e̸̷̞͔̣̪͟y̘̘͘o͓͕̯̭̱͠ṳ͕h̘͙̜o҉͉̖̫w͙̙̤̤̻ͅd͏̲͖̦̜a̜͇̰̪͈̣̬r̛̭͙͕̙̼̥̙e̵̬̻̗̲͈̣͖ͅy̢̥̩̣̪͙͎͎o̮̹͎̜͞ͅu͓͉̟̞̜̖̬̕͝h̢̰̺̦̪̤́́ò̳̪̰͙̀w̙d͉̬́͜a̞̗͕̼͇̞̝ͅr̶̲͙̰e̗͝y̪̬̯̩̟̳o̵̢͉̰̙̥̮̻̲ͅu̷̮̻̖̣̦͘ḫ͎͉̖̟͇̜o͍͇̫̹͕̜̫w̘͓̜̦͙̤͘͜d͔͇̖̭̳a̴̩͓̗͓̱̟̠r̫͖ę҉͖̮̳̳ỵ͔̹ó̴̶̼͖̙̱̹ͅu͕͎̪͎͈̳̖͇h̛̳̟͇̜̟̫̤̮o͏̢̺̤̩̪ẉ̨̞̩́͘ḑ͔̱̕a̴̛̪̭r̜̕e҉̗̟͓y͘҉̳̤ò̜̘͖̘͇̜̙u͚h̤͈ǫ̯̠̜͎̲͠͞ͅw̶̳͖͝d͏̧̖̙͎̞͖̟a̸̸͙̗͈̹̬͇͓̱͖r̸̵̮̯̦̝̠̩͡e̡̗̗̳͙̲̰ý̹̳͓̱o̫̙̬͕͓̜̱u͎̺̤̘͙h̲̦̗͕̬̹̞̻͢o̧̱̪͕̜̲̮̳w̝͕̺͘͟͝ͅd̷̥͖͈̭̹͕͘a̮̻̫̻r͏̟͇͈̤̳̳̤͢e̵̫y̶͔̳̹͕̘o̷̠̺̱̙͖u͉̲̯͚̠̗͉ͅh͇ò̤͘͟ẁ̱͇͎̺̕ͅd҉̫̲͙̠a̡̮͚̹̺͈͝r͞͏̠͍͓͍e̡̫̖̥̘̱͔̖͜͠ỵ̸͖͜o̺͎̤͇̬͕̬u̴̡͙̦͉̘͈ͅh̢̥̜̤̯ọ̢͕̹͜͠ͅw̛̦̼̖̬̬̳̘̝͕͡d̴͏̢̝̗̦̭a̼̪̱r̝̤͖̕͠e̡̨̦y̨̧͖̟͈̮o̷͎u̡͖̯̤͈͖͍͔̙h̷̨͇̙͔̦̥̤͙o̶̬͇w̧̠̘̦͕̝͘d̲̗a͍͎̱͝͡r͇̝̗͝e̵҉̛̺̝̠̱̺̳̳͚͕y̮̹̺̻̺͢͡o̗̲̝u̵͚͙͓͜h̷͚͎̝ọ̵̻̝̲͕̬͉w͇̘̘̳̭d̶̢͔̭̟̦͍̣̳̠͜a͏̨̣̰r͉̼̣̰̪̭̖e̴͜҉͚͇͖ỳ̷̺͉͔͢ò̵͚̮̱̝̫͕̘u̟̦̲͖̩h̶̯͎̦̳o̶̜̭ͅw͏̳̜̝̱̣̪ͅd̳̰̀͞à͕̗͖r҉̢͙͎̭͍͉̝͝ͅe͖̰̥̲͍͈y̞̫͓̗̞͟o̤̝̦̖̱̙͕̘͝u͖͢͡h͞͏̶̹̭͖̮o͇̟̙̝̼̠͈̼͙̕w̶̺̬̬̙̣͢d͝҉̦̞̹a͏̧̮̲̻̗̖ͅr͘҉͖̳̜e̶̴̛͓͈̭̺̗̣̫̝ͅy̵̨̰͍͉̼̮̠̺̫o̦̭̘̠̝͔̰̲u̵̮͎͖̦͇ͅh̗͖̟̲̠̳͢͠o͖w̡͍͙̼͎̞͍̮̼͞͡d̷̬͎̘̰̖̜̯͠a͈̟͇̫̤͔͠͠r̞̝̗͖̲͜͡ȩ̵̞̮̪̼̱̟y̡͚̼̙̺̟o̮͉̝̙͍̲͔̺͟ͅu̶̲̼̼̮̘͓ͅh̵̭͝͡o̤̳̳̭͓͍̟ͅw̢̺̗̤͇͚͟ͅḑ̱̳͇̣̠̫͟͠à̛͇̻̮̦͉͓ͅr̫̮̮̳͈͙̖ͅe̢̢̛̬̹̥̲͓̞̣͖y̧̫̳̩͉̝̞̖̞͘͝ó͔̯͈̼͈͉̣̦͞u̸͕͓̖̰̥̜̖̰͉͜h͚̳̙̣̗̪̺̺̕͞o͓̻͖̗ͅw̸̩̝ḓ̴͎̱̠͕̺͔̜a̲̻̟͡͡r͠҉̼̮͚̝̭ḙ̛̦̘y͖͈̝̯̝͢͢͞ò̢͉̪̺̳̟̜̥̞͢u҉͖̯ ̵̨̩̦͓̩̗̗̖̖͠

 

It screams as it picks itself up-- but the new intruder won't let it go, caught by mere surprise, as it's fileted apart and dragged out of it's cozy room in it's host's mind.

It forces a moment to regroup itself, vainly pulling it's stolen form back into place as it surveys foreign, unwelcoming space. Snarling something in words from beyond the void, words that could curl the mind and emanating sheer malevolence as it sneers at the interlopers; it had chosen it's host for a reason.

 

Karkat finally gasps, loud and heaving, as if he hadn't had any access to the air around him, his body shaking; disturbed and unsettled but he doesn't even know from what.

 

*

 

Huddled atop Katkat, Gamzee curls himself tight against the mutant. His breath is staggered, muscles taut; he's shaking, face buried in Karkat's breast.

It's warm.
Warm, comforting; Gamzee feels it on his face, on his skin.

The pretender suffers, grown fat and lazy in Karkat's mind.

Gamzee wants to grow fat and happy with Karkat. He wants to know of bright fields and clear skies.

He wants and this thing is nothing compared to that.

 

Besides, Kurloz bats it around like a purrbeast with a ball. Stabs at it, peels back the skin, blinks in to see steaming organs.

Kurloz is the doctorturer, eyes rolling between the horrorterror and his blood brother.

When those sharp fingers begin to pluck at the corners of him, Gamzee keens.

 

His body remembers gentle hands soothing over battered skin, trailing warmth following touch.

That warmth is still there, and he bleats, asking for the hands -- the only pair of hands never to promise pain or threaten harm.

 

*

 

It is weakened, in here.

This place that has little room for it, and what room there is that intruder occupies, forces it to discomfort. He can hurt it and knows how, and it doesn't like that.

T̛̠̤͕͎̙̺̼̰̙̭͙̻̠̙́̕ ̷̛̲̖̗̥̤̺͈̞̭̖̘͓̝̫͕͔̀̀͜ͅA̻̝̻̬̘͕̲͔̰̮͔̜͎̤͇͈͙͘͢ ̡̨̟̟̤̗̹͚͉̫͇̼͔̲͢͝ͅĶ̣͔͓͚͟͢ ̻̺͚̞̀͜Ę̵͍̘̖̻̝̫̪͝͝ ̀͢͏̶̱̝̜͕M̵̢͡͏̬̰̖͎̺̺͍̹̻̱̯ ̷̡͉̼͉̩̮̙̠E̡̢̼͇̱̟̤̗͍̬̰̲̦̦͎̜͚͓͝ ͏̸̸̯̟͇͎̯͔̦̳̭͙̞̥̞͠͞B̴̛̻̮͍̣̯̭̪̦͇͎̝ ̵͖̬̫̙̝̘͍̱̪̙̺̤̀ͅÀ̸̛͙̙̯̞͔̪̘̦͔͉͔͔̞̘͢ ̨̢̨̪̬̣̜̞̳̣̙̤̩̰̳̀͠ͅC̡̛̯̬̖̹͙̪͓̮̙̟̥̱̹̼͉͙̱͉͡ ̛̘̖͇͈͉̘K̨̠͚͔͙̳̱̥̼̺̭͈͕̭͖̥̗̥̗͢ ҉͍̞̞̮̘͞P̶͇̳͇͖̤̪͎̥͍̩̥̝͓̱̦̯̫͘͡ ̕̕͡҉̥̗̘̘̳̩̞̣̬U̺̱̬̟̮̤̪̺͓̬͖̺̯͢͠͡ ̢͖͍͔̰͓̰̞̲̹̤͇͉͉͉̤̜͔̩̰̀͠T̨̜̠̱̺̱͔͓̝͢ ҉̪͙̺̩̹͜͜M̟̺͟ͅ ҉̸̝̥̱̣̗̪̟̥̺È̸̟̙̪̼͔̬̥̞̩̯̳͙͢͞͞ͅ ̨̮̳͎̬͍͓̻̮̣́͠͝B̷̷̗̪͍̣̖̩͟͠͠ͅ ̝̹̮͘͜A͏̶͖̪͈̼͕̝̯̣̜̪̯͢͞͞ ̝̼͙̹͇̀͠C̥̹͕̭͖̜̯͕̗̬̳͇͡͝ ̢̮͉͎̥͈͉̠̹̲͓͉̗͢͡K̖̩͈͈̥̠̙͟ ͕̬͕̜͙̥̖̲̣̞͈̣̖͓̕͞͞͡H҉҉̤̬̦̯ ̵̢̛̪̲̞͉̤͓͚̼̟̜̳̫̪̰͕̬͈͉͝ͅO̤͇̣͇͘͟ ̴̢̢̨͎̞͕̩̭̮̭͖̩̞̲̺̳͇͙̻͝W͖̫͓̭̯͝ͅ ̶̳̰̰̣̬̖̩͕͓̖̟͈̪͝͝D͍̙̠̖̼̟̥̳̱͍̖͢͠ ̧͙̩̯̼͖̯̰̳̀͞͠A̴̭̼̯͇̻̲̳͢ ̨̛̜̪͍͓̹̹͇̪͎̯̳͎̗̝͔̯̬̹́ͅR͎̗̘͕̭͟ ̷̴̘̱̘̬̮̻͚̟̺̥͟͝E̴̴̡̹͉̲̜̹̲͞ ̷̛͕̺͔̫̖̗̭͍̲̳̺̭̮̬̼͟͝͞ͅY̵̛͎̣̩͙̣̙͜ ̛̥̬̹̫̤͔͜͠O͏̢̛̹͖̳ ̷̸̻̹̣̞͙̥͙͈̙̺̭͚̖̮͘͞Ù̴̡͏̦͈̠̮̪͔͜ͅ ̸͘͟͏͎͔̼̙̦̮̳̣͈̭̯͖͓̣͇͇ͅH̶̸̛̬̲̻̞͕̻̪͓̯̦̻̩̬͚̩̖̙̥̀͜ ̵͔̺̝̘̙̪̳̱̦͓͚̮̗̳͢͢͡Ǫ̷̜̰͓͖͔̞͍ ̨̹̼͙̟̀͘͟ͅW̙̭͉̹͔͟ ͚̝͓͙̼̪͘͠͠ͅD̸̴̩̫̫͚̣̞̤̥̤̘̫͓͘͝ͅ ̶̧̨̼͖͇͡͝ͅÀ̢̻̪͔̳̲̺̟̗͈̖̭͢ͅ ́͡͞͞҉̩̫̰̦̰͔̭͎͉̩̝̼̟̗͖̲͚̺̦R҉̨̧͢͏͖̝̭̝͔̥̺͉̳̳ ̨̢̧̙̖̻̺͈̙̦̞͈̖͕̪̭͚̬̼̲È͈̳͉̝̪͖̠͕̦̘̝̣̳̳͔̦̻͟ͅ ̴̯̩͍̼̦͓̠̰̜̹̭͎͢͞Y̨͇̥͇̖͔̫̬͕̼͙͙̬̣̥̳͍̜̙͢ͅ ̴̥̩͖̀O͡͏͔̬͙̘͍͎͜͢͟ ̛̫̲̟̬̖̜̞̟͡Ư̶̭͖͙̫̰̪͓̮̹̳̜͚̪̭̗̟̗͠ͅͅ ̣͈̻͙̤̩̦̲́͟T̡̳̱̱̪̪͚̙̬̮͍̱͍̞͢͞ͅ ̴́͏̪͍̩͙̯̣͍̮̜͚͇R͠͏̰̞̯͚̺̱͍̦̫̭͇̟͈̠́͘ ҉̴̰͇̬̯̦̥̠̼̫̭̼́Y͘͢҉̴͕̫͖̝̖̲̫̟͈ ̷̡͡҉͚̼̞͈̙̥̩̱̮̮̠̠͢Ą̱̪͍̱̹̻̳̞̠̫̣͘͢͟͞ ̡̥͖͙̝̻͈̤̩̠͘̕͡N̶̡̘͎̰͙ ̵̡̤̱̠͇̰̻̭̭͖̺̯͕̼̤͞D̴̨̨̡͏̱̻̟͕͙̠͚͖̜͍ͅ ̶́͝҉̖͖̺̲͉͙̱͙̯̰̳̗R̶͎̳̤̦̹̟͡ͅ ̸̵̢̠̲̙̤̦̻̹͖̩̤̭̦̮̲̩̯͢͠U̵҉͓͔̪͇̦̙̮͚̤͔̠̳̠̗̪̱̮̲̩ ͓̩͇̦̙̭͢I̵̴̼̬͉̯̣̗̹̭̰̹̫̦͙̰͙̠̪̠̕͜͞ ̵̳̬̦̝̬̘̩́͜N҉̸͓̲̳̣̪̠̬̬́͠ ̵̧̨̹̳̰̤̙̼̦̭̪̻̹̱͔̠̺͍̩̜̀͟M̴̯̮̣̭̼̟͎̱͕͙͕̕͝ͅ ̵̮̤̣͇̣̬͇͓͓͔̹̰̮̠̀Ę̧̳͔̱̱̱̦̣̦̼̥̝͎͖̰͓͉̼̙͍\

 

 

It violently thrashes, even if to escape, for a mere moment before it's trapped in this claustrophobic space, enduring pain it's never had to deal with not even when that fairy thought it had saved it's host, when it slipped through the blindspots while being broken apart, mocking and laughing at the other being while leaving it's trails and marks all over it's new home.

Dragging it's skin with it-- because it is a vain thing as it weathers past stabs and plucks on it's very being.

This worthless, decrowned prince will regret ever knowing of it

 

Karkat feels so heavy, even when he drags air into his lungs, every breath feels like a lead weight.

An explanation might be had, when he's oriented enough to see horns just past his face, feel the mass on top of him. Sees Gamzee pressing into him, as if he could burrow into his chest and maybe that's why it feels more difficult than it should be to pull in an unstrained breath of air.

Karkat has no recollection, at least outside and conscious like he is, of his or anyone else's headspace, figuring that with his non-psi-having brain he must have passed out.

Gamzee's shaking, Karkat wondering why-- he's got a vague idea of himself being punched and then held to the floor under a heel, that he's got some memory of. And of more or less offering up his head for Gamzee to go through.

Even his arm, his hand feels heavy when he goes to lift it, uncooperative until there's some feeling back in the flesh, taking a guess via horns where Gamzee's face is, gingerly feeling him out with a gentle hand on his cheek (or where he hopes is his face anyway)

Karkat doesn't hear the words that leave his mouth-- to him he hasn't even said anything --but the bare whisper seeps out, "....did you find what you wanted....?"

Notes:

To be redundant, twice, don't make yourself stay in a bad relationship, don't force yourself to pretend that everything is alright when it's not. You'll just break apart more and more.

Another redundancy, to you, my friend. I hope that wherever you are, you're fine and safe and that the things you're dealing with be handled easily and painlessly for you. I hope I can speak with you again one day.

Please be safe.

Chapter 24: Amending

Summary:

NSFW Warning

Notes:

After some work, we decided to make this a lot more hella meta, yknow, for spice and flavor. We both worked through this and could finally get back to business. Also not me vaguing Karkat's aspect. You thought it was cool, so we incorporated it wherever it fit in our chats.

at least no one can say the makeup sex wasn't hella, because it seriously was, lolol.

Once again though, to be blunt, don't get caught in abusive relations, shit actually really sucks.

The vanity in dragging its skin isn't lost on Gamzee -- who, even with his memories being shuffled through his head, resurfaced and then plunged deep into darkness -- has always enjoyed the freedom of this realm.
He is, after all, a monster.

Gamzee Makara wears the skin of a troll, has the face of a troll, bleeds the same blood as other trolls -- but he's not a troll.

 

Not really.

 

He's a thing of need and want made flesh, an ugly creature. His reflection is a lie, and something he avoids. Even while applying greasepaint, he won't use a mirror or the surface of a still lake.

He doesn't recall ever liking himself, and he only recalls knowing himself when Chahut had picked him from the sand.

 

Then, Kurloz tries to pry into his time with Karkat, and Gamzee screams , threats of torture and debasement if Kurloz dares .

Kurloz pulls away, folds up his multi-jointed limbs, and returns his gaze to the horrorterror.

 

Gamzee returns to his body with a quiet gasp, a hand on his cheek.

He squeezes his eyes shut, opens them, blinks slowly until the world returns to focus.

"I don't... know." His mind feels slow, stupid; Gamzee returns his head to Karkat's chest.

"There were strings." He murmurs.

"We were in a field, and there were red strings. You had a lot. I didn't have as many. There was a string between us. It was thicker than the rest. You came over to me and cried into me -- but that wasn't really me." He wonders if Karkat believes in the same fate he does.

"That was just how you see me -- and you see me like I am. I... don't deserve that." He cups the hand atop his cheek, and slowly props himself up.

"I didn't mean it." His free hand drags the length of Karkat's body, from his neck to his stomach; where their grub rests.

"Kurloz doesn't know anything. He can't see or feel any of this unless I let him -- earlier, he'd just... barged in. I normally punish him for that, but it felt nice to dance with you like that... Maybe I shouldn't have cared so much. You were trying to make him feel better, right? You're too soft like that..." He trails off, lidded gaze on his mate.

" I love you so, Karkat."

 

*

 

Karkat remembers a pupa, barely out of being a grub, covered in sand and hurt, waiting on a beach just for a corpse to show up, so small and cold and alone; it shoots something awful through his heart, of course it does, but he can't think of why and what for, that he has this memory that doesn't feel like his.

 

He blinks blearily; that's what his head looks like on the inside? Of course metaphorically , not for real , but still .

"Kinda sounds like me..," Karkat huffs a small laugh, chest feeling some relief now that Gamzee wasn't pushing into him as hard as if he needed to get all inside his chestspace, "...you saw strings? I used to imagine strings, on me, on everyone around me. I told myself that they're all attached to each and every connection you make, like when you make a new friend or you meet someone; like clade and family." His eyes close, listening, pretending that he could still see them now-- it feels like if he wanted to, if he opens his eyes, he'll see the string between him and Gamzee.

Of course, it's only in his imagination that he sees one.

"Used to think that a thick string meant a connection was really strong, if others were thinning or fraying, then those ones were weak, easy to break off. 'Cut ties', I've heard. Though when I told others, other wrigglers, any adult that'd listen to a pupa ramble, they just told me it's in my head. They told me that with a bunch of things..," he continues, letting Gamzee finish as he pieces his thoughts together, waiting.

 

"Whatcha mean you don't deserve that, to be seen as a troll? As mine?" Karkat knows if this were different circumstances, he'd be full blushing just to whisper those words, that Gamzee was his , his mate.

"....If you're not a troll, then what, a monster?" Karkat sighs out, "..you are no monster, not to me. I have met monsters." Karkat won't say it, but Gamzee does not even come close; when Gamzee puts fear into him, it's not that kind, it's an angry kind that only makes him madder (the other kind is so, so, much worse.

 

He says he didn't mean it. Karkat knew that, but it's still heartfully reassuring to hear it with his own ears, trailing his digits over skin that isn't burrowing into him, Gamzee's hand resting on his skin, over their grub. "I know, that you didn't mean it. You shouldn't say things you don't mean, yeah?"

Karkat's chest rises with another long sigh; he'd actually forgotten that bit, "..Yeah, I was. Maybe I'm too soft. You've just reminded me that I wanted to kick him in the shins, fucker was doing it on purpose, too, fuckin' stars....," he grumbles more under his breath, and only in his head will it happen that he kicks Kurloz and the elder sibling is actually hurt from it and not the other way around.

He shakes his head, ridding the thought from his mind, at least temporarily, so he could focus more on what Gamzee said before that, a smile trying to squiggle his mouth, "You wanna dance with me like that?" The thought makes him want to grin and squirm, except he still feels like lead and not doing that.

Karkat's expression goes softer, brows gently creasing up as he smiles at his mate, "I love you so. I'm sorry, for getting mad at you. I love you so."

 

*

 

That Karkat seems normal -- or what passes for normal after an episode like that -- melts Gamzee's heart.

 

Kurloz wasn't the most careful. Not while Gamzee had tied up the horrorterror, knotting each string; Kurloz slit them down the middle and ripped out what he wanted.

He's only careful inside his own head, where he has all the time in the world to do what he wants; dethroned prince or otherwise.

It's apt, even if they don't have princes and heirs like other castes; to think of himself as a prince makes him want to laugh.

He's a servant .

 

"I could've chosen not to listen." The highblood gathers up his mate, taking him over to the bed.

"Sister Chahut was having fun with me, anyways. Used to pick me up as a pupa and toss me. Took me a long time to realise she wasn't trying to harm me." Zhen's dress is an easy thing to wear, the seams at the waist giving just enough to allow Gamzee to pull the dress off Karkat in one smooth motion.

He folds the dress, knows Karkat's probably already attached to it; knows Karkat's probably already attached to all his gifts on the mere basis of them being gifts.

 

For a moment, he tries to imagine that string between them; between their hands.

 

"I don't have the words to describe anything before Chahut. I didn't have words at all. My whole life was sand and salt -- but not the kind on this coast. The coast where Indigobloods go is... isolated. Kurloz says we go there out of instinct, since our Lusii can't come to us; it's luck to survive. After all, we're not seadwellers ." He snorts.

"This coast reeks of filth. The kind trolls pour into the ocean. Where Indigobloods come from, it smells of... nature. Any dead pupae get washed into the sea, or eaten by other creatures. We don't frequent the coast, either way; it'd upset Chahut, and the twins don't need to know that." He places the folded dress at the end of the bed, and begins undressing himself, untying his sash.

The clothes come off easily after that, folded up beside Karkat's; he stretches out beside his mate, chirring.

"I let you into my mind, you know? Those early memories, that's where I took you. It's the safest. Just the beach and the sky -- and I know you don't see me as a monster, but other trolls do. If I have to make myself all visible, I prefer like that -- 'cause I hadn't done nothing yet. A pupa what's only watched the sea ain't even said a bad word to no one."

 

*

 

Even feeling like deadweight it must be easy to move him, Gamzee taking Karkat from the floor to the bed. He tries to make it easy for him, lifting his arms as much as he can get them to go for the dress to come up and over his head.

"You did?" His head flashes a pupa, this small thing he wants to hold and keep tight against his chest. Karkat is quiet for a moment, shifting just slightly so that he's facing Gamzee better. "....I....you wanted to tell me something. I remember, I think," when his eyes look his mate's face over, Karkat sees some of that pupa; they share the same starved look, for one, the look that might drown his heart in pity.

"It hurt to leave-- something threw me out, but I wanted to take you with me, I think I remember that, too."

Karkat shakes his head, he doesn't know half of what came out of his mouth.

The beach Gamzee describes must be the one he's thinking of. He bets it must hurt Chahut to pass by that coast; Karkat has an idea she'd try and pick up every pupae she could if they went there (the ones that made it at least).

"We had an adult that did that-- played with us pupae like that. When you're small, everything looks so much bigger and higher than it is."
He's got more feeling in his hand now, enough to crawl it over and lace with Gamzee's fingers, thrumming in his chest and throat.

"What else, about you? Did Chahut take you to The Grand Highblood?"
Karkat pauses, unsure of a few things at once, "...What about me? What else did you see of me?" Another pause, "...did you see anything embarrassing...?"

 

*

 

"Not much." Gamzee admits, giving Karkat's hand a gentle squeeze.

"You're my mate. I was mad, but I also know a motherfucker gotta be careful if he don't wanna shatter minds." He decides Karkat doesn't need to know about the horrorterror just yet -- maybe in future, but Gamzee needs to speak with Kurloz, first.

Pry that thing open a bit further.

So long as it can't get back to Karkat, then it's fine.

 

"You had all these strings coming off you, and there was this lump in the grass. You, as a pupa, was in there; you had one of those substitute passivity devices in your mouth, but you looked old 'nough to be without it. Maybe... sweep-and-a-half." He teases, shifting onto his side.

"Your pupa-fangs were falling out. You were so cute, making noise at me when you noticed me -- 'cause you did. If I saw that pupa right now, and some fucker told me he'd grow up to look like you, I'd ask that troll where the fuck he comes from." Gamzee snickers, free hand patting Karkat's ample hips.

"Not like I'm saying you're ugly, but you're more cute in a pitiable, fuckable way than how a motherfucker finds a pupa cute." He wonders if Karkat ever had to fight off any suitors.

Not literally -- but, surely, Ampora wasn't the first troll to find Karkat attractive.

 

If Gamzee were a village troll, or even living close enough to make trips into the village, he'd probably be pestering Karkat for one of his quadrants.

On the question of himself, the highblood shrugs, hand resting low on Karkat's soft stomach. His thumb brushes dangerously low, close to the cleft between his mate's thighs.

"Of course, Chahut took my bleating ass to The Grand Highblood. Though, by the time we up and got there, I had 'nough Beforian in me to make proper words at people. I knew on The Messiahs." He hums, recalling that old, worn memory.

"That tome you got? He's told as this hulking motherfucker, wild hair, paint so thick his face ain't visible -- but he ain't so muscular. That village Elder you got's more muscle than him. More... muscle what's visible. Don't make him less strong, though, so he pricks my carapace and watches me bleed, picks me up and takes me away. Into his tent. Kurloz was there, too. Got questioned on why the 'rightful heir' didn't just cull someone already waiting on death." Gamzee trills quietly, snugging up to his mate.

His touch draws down, down, until he's cupping Karkat's heat in his palm.

"I felt how it is to kiss you, be kissed by me." Another questioning trill, his hunger slowly returning.

"You're soft in all the perfect ways, Karkat. Perfect for me, anyways."

 

*

 

Karkat wholeheartedly appreciates that, that Gamzee says even if he was upset he didn't go messing around in his headspace; he thinks Gamzee told him he could, too, while he was still upset for some stupid reason, Karkat remembers the implication of being made a sex sleeve and that's messed up on his own fault; he blames all of his books for that, it's entirely their fault.

Any possibly dirty thought is cleared out at the mention of him being a pupa-- Karkat dusting red, hand going to his cheek and lips squiggling, "Oh not that ."

Even he remembers that early in his life, how he held onto his pacifier like he would simply just die without it. At the time, having learned to speak, his excuse was he was teething even after all his new fangs came in. "It took forever to get me off of that thing, and when I did I was moping like a brat about it."

Gamzee even teases him about being the age he was, making Karkat chortle under his hand. Teases him further about being cute and cute . "At least no one can say I wasn't cute start to finish, the proof is in the pan pudding," he gestures toward his head.

He doesn't pick up on wandering hands until digits graze just where his flesh becomes sensitive, body giving a slight start.

Gamzee tells him about meeting his ancestor and Kurloz-- Karkat really should read that tome, when he gets a moment --, met them knowing at least the basic knowledge he needed to know.

He wonders how Gamzee saw his ancestor at the time; wonders if Kurloz was any different before knowing Gamzee, though that wonder isn't particularly pertinent.

It's not lost on him how Gamzee shifts in close and closer, putting his cooled skin right in range of Karkat's warmth, against his own; fingers tracing down further until he's cupping soft mound, where Karkat's heat runs the most, breath catching at the touch, his heart fluttering.

"M..maybe you should go back in," that dusting has bloomed out, Karkat suddenly feeling too lightheaded and giddy, unable to look away from Gamzee-- Gamzee's lips on the topic of kissing. His free hand trails down to soft flesh, light on Gamzee's hand as his thighs press together, squeezing around the appendage, Karkat chirrups and then trills his own noise. "...s-so you know how this feels to me..."

He can't say Gamzee doesn't know how to sweet talk at him, because it's fucking working, how he says Karkat being soft is perfect for him. Even though Karkat knows he's being horny and has been horny since earlier in the night.

 

*

 

Karkat's addicting, the way he trills and chirrups; the way his breathing catches from Gamzee doing nothing more than touching him.

He wonders how much of that is breeder-related sensitivity, and how much of it is his mate.

Either way, with his hand squeezed between Karkat's thighs, Gamzee takes that as agreement to fool around.
Invading his mind, on the other hand...

"You just wanna feel how it is to have a bulge, don't you?" His thumb presses into the fleshy area, where Karkat should have a sheathe.

"Whatever you got here," he rolls the ball of his thumb, "ain't hardly 'nough for my greedy mate?"

He chuckles, squirming a bit himself.

It's true that he's been wanting more time with Karkat since getting to the caverns -- as if they've ever been separated for more than a day . Everything is just so much easier, now, without being so alone.

They don't have to rely on a moody Oliveblood to keep them safe during the day, and, considering what the Jadebloods have done for everyone else, it's safe to assume this cloister is, well, safe .

At least for now, and at least for them.

 

Gamzee intends to take full advantage of that, eating and drinking while he can, sleeping when he's tired rather than exhausted.

 

He'd also like to grope at his mate whenever he wants, at least until the newness of it wears off and he stops wanting to jump on Karkat.

If that feeling ever goes away, anyway; Gamzee wouldn't mind if it stayed this way.

"Y'know, I ain't never had nothing up my nook." His gaze becomes lidded, lazy; almost glassy while he does nothing more than reach out and gingerly touch Karkat's mind, and --

The highblood gasps quietly, then sinks into a chirr.

"My hand's s-so cold." More bit-back noises from him as his fingers sink past Karkat's lips. A loud chirp when a long, cool digit goes deeper. He's empty and full at the same time, and it's nothing more than a finger.

"I f-feel bad... 'cause you can't... feel my bulge." The sheathed organ throbs, already ready to unsheathe.
Gamzee draws Karkat into a soft kiss, shallowly and gently finger-fucking him.

"Do you wanna fuck yourself, mate of mine? Feel how good and right and soft you is?" To alleviate the growing pressure, Gamzee unlaces their hands, and takes a moment to coax his bulge out.

He gasps and chitters at the feeling of getting his -- Karkat's -- nook played with while his bulge takes its time unsheathing, making his own empty nook twitch.

His hand slithers back into Karkat's grasp, and he even feels that twice-over; the smoothness of their palms.
He's already purple in the face, giddy and half-drunk like his mate.

"Even just holdin' your hand feels so ni-ice, Karkat."

 

*

 

Alright, so maybe Karkat is hoping to feel some of what that feels like, having a bulge; mocking a pout and sticking his tongue out at Gamzee's guess despite the way his thumb brushes over sensitive making him fidget, being called greedy.

Gamzee told him once, in his own words, ' I'm greedy like that ', and maybe Karkat is too.

"Nothing? Not even you're own fingers?" he lightly teases. Karkat's at least done that much, in absence of any bulge of course but still.

He can tell when Gamzee nudges into his mind-- that's what if feels like to him anyway, a nudge , a gentle, cursory probe. His mate isn't diving all at once, like...dipping a hand in a trap or pond to test how warm or cold the water is.

 

But Karkat can tell, allowing him in while holding back a snort at Gamzee's surprise at his own temperature. Whatever laugh Karkat was keeping back gets turned into a hitched moan, digits pushing in through plump lips-- might have even chirped right along with his mate, hot flesh squeezing around long fingers.

Like he knew, Karkat can't quite feel Gamzee the same way, having no natural psychic ability unless he wanted to count that uncanny way he can feel certain things but that's too selective to be anything but a fluke.

"I-It's alright, I..I can imagine...," Karkat's read enough extensive detail about throbbing, unsheathing bulges to imagine the sensation, even if he'll never truly know it-- has and is imagining in that spot where another slit should be, compact and quivering, an imaginary length behind it so ready to furl and spill out, pulsing heavy and needy. His head supplies him with memories of memorable passages, poring over words on a page that their writers went into great descriptive lengths to expunge every, single, delicious detail Karkat's read the kind of smut and things where he'd have to go bury himself in a hole if any of it came to light, not that his head is helping any when he's thinking about fictional bulge.

 

Karkat Vantas has no right to call anyone a pervert .

 

Especially when Gamzee asks him such a thing, the way his lips curve at the thought, as if he has thought of that .

"What, you mean like sticking the bulge I ain't got in my own nook? I though that was frowned upon," he lilts, voice becoming a little buzzy and breathy, Karkat slowly bucking his hips on Gamzee's hand. The act wasn't explicitly taboo, Karkat knows, but it was somewhere up there with taking bulge in one's chute, "Bet it'd have felt better than my fingers though..."

Messing around like this, with Gamzee phantoming sensation from him, makes Karkat want to play with his mate's nook even more.

Half-lidded reds flicking down to see royal Purple length twist out. "You haven't even let your own bits play together like that?"

 

Well, he supposes, if Gamzee's feeling through his head, he'll probably feel it soon enough.

Gamzee's all lavender blush and it's cute to see, even better because Karkat's probably the only one lucky enough to see this, his lips losing some of the lechery to soften, laughing gently, "I mean, you get to hold my hand all the time, y'know.."

 

*

 

Gamzee whines, turning his hot cheek into the pillows beneath their head — his head.

“I don’t want you to imagine it.” His fingers slip between Karkat’s, breath coming in stutters whenever a bundle of nerves light up.
He dips deeper into Karkat’s mind, even while Karkat talks of filthy things.

“Is it so... bad?” He squirms, biting back a moan as he works another finger into Karkat.

“Never had m-much privacy. Never f-felt like finger-fuckin’ myself.” Opening up his own mind is... frightening. He’s hesitant, even if Karkat can’t do anything.

“Never wanted to get caught.” A third finger, sunk in to the knuckles, and Gamzee’s quivering, bulge weeping as it curls around itself.

 

When he can’t take it anymore, he pulls his fingers out — the sound is obscene — he grabs Karkat’s hips, pulling his mate flush to himself.

“Can you feel it?” He pants, forehead-to-forehead, fingers sinking into Karkat’s flesh.

His bulge writhes between them, easily slipping between Karkat’s thighs; the organ greedily worms its way past those plump, slick lips, dipping into Karkat’s heat.

Gamzee trills, high and startled, breathless.

How did Karkat get so tight again?

“Can you feel anythin’?” He asks, stroking the curve of Karkat’s body; from the dip of his waist to the swell of his hips, down to his thighs.

“I want you... to know h-how good y’feel.” His brows cinch, a splatter of material pushed through his throbbing bulge as his nook tries to milk nothing.

 

*

 

Oh .

That-- ohh --?!

Gamzee sinks -- both a little more into his mind and with another finger in his nook, and Karkat might swear he sees Indigo at the edges of his vision, just out of periphery.

A wall parts, it feels, and somehow Karkat can feel his own heat nearly searing into his-- not his --skin.

The important part is where he's imagining a bulge on himself suddenly feels-- feels like--

" Fuck , Gamzee," Karkat chirrs and warbles, new sensation ghosting to his core, a moment of blankness making things hazy. "..what'dja even feed that thing..??" He can feel that, ghost sheath split open wide for thickening bulge to wriggle out of, how it curls and twists over itself and what that does, sending sparks through his-- Gamzee's --nerves; he probably won't need to imagine what it'll feel like for that to push and work itself through something nice, tight and hot.

 

"Nn-not so much that it-it's actually bad , that's just old folks for ya. Trolls prob'ly commit sex taboos on a daily basis in this night and age." Karkat's thought about it, sure, how can he not with all the trash he reads.

"Y-Yyou're a little luckier, hh , th-than me..nnot getting caught," (poor Kanaya, she'd come into his room with his clothes in hand only to turn around and walk back out within the same instance, Karkat frozen literally red-handed and a book open in the other.)

He tries to hold the memory back, not only wanting to not think of his caretaker but not needing anything to dampen the situation.

Gamzee's long digits, after pushing into molten heat and nookwall, slickly slide out with a loud, wet squelchh , Karkat gasping a whine as his nook pulses tight on nothing, almost complaining for being empty. Pulled skin to skin, brow to brow, hand tightly gripping Gamzee's as chilled grasp has a handful of his flesh, keeping him in place as barbed tip searches out heat.

"..h hhah ...n nghfuck , tha's...," Karkat didn't think-- can't --with his-- no, not his--

No book has had this , being overwhelmed by feeling how his mate feels, sinking in deeper and deeper through tight and heat -- on top of dealing with his own nerves, flesh closing around each thickening inch of bulge-- and ridge, ridges that need a little more force to wedge past plump, puffy nooklips, press against oversensitive walls. Karkat barely believes it, lower lip dropping slowly on the sheerness of it, fluttering lashes and rolling eyes; biting his lip and buzzing .

Karkat chirps and titters, having no words to even try and describe what's happening-- any words he would have is a complete mess of half-nonsense. He can feel inside him, wrapped in hot silk-- Gamzee writhing in it. Karkat can even feel Gamzee's nook and that ache of milking around nothing.

"I ssat hhow..how I feel t'you?" Karkat would think about making himself a sleeve too, being tight like that, shit . "Y-You're pretty damn big even without fittin' y'self all inside me, an' you haven't even done your adult pupation yet, huh?"

 

*

 

Panting hotly, Gamzee nods.

He wants to ask Karkat the same — if the ridges of his bulge are really so prominent , if being stretched out always feels so delicious .

Would it feel the same with his own nook? Where not even his fingers have probed? He’s been wet, he’s felt the walls of his nook hunger for something , but Karkat is dripping , throbbing around him, sucking him in deeper and deeper.

Each ridge that works its way past those nooklips leaves behind a smear of lubricant, a sheen of lavender on stretched, red skin.

It takes him too long to realise Karkat’s speaking.

 

“You’re jus’ as dirty as me, Karkat.” He breathes, catching a flash of shame; Chahut catching him with his fingers in his nook — except it’s not him, not Chahut, not his shame.

“No wonder it takes... takes jus’ a touch ‘nd you’re all slick for me.” Even if he could pursue that memory, that line of thought, he’d rather not. His mate doesn’t need his own fingers anymore, not when he has —

“Lift your leg.” He helps the mutant throw a thigh over him, opening up his nook, bringing them that much closer.

“Already thinkin’ ‘bout bigger bulges?” He grips a handful of Karkat’s backside, breath hitching while stuffing himself into his mate.

And Karkat’s talking about how he isn’t even a pupated adult.

“ Greedy .” His own voice burns his ears, and he jostles Karkat, enjoying both the heft of his soft warmth and the tight, cool grip urging him closer.

“Got a while ‘fore I pupate... Y’know, you m-might be an - an adult ‘fore me. What’ll my greedy motherfuckin’ mate do, then?” Lightly, open-palmed, he smacks Karkat’s ass; trills from the sensation.
“Didja ever r-read any books ‘bout...” lids fluttering open, Gamzee looks down between them; he’s buzzing from horn-to-toe, “Purplebloods?” He skims a hand up along Karkat’s backside, fingers threading into his hair; tugging for attention.

“D-didja ever h-have... fantasies on bein’ kidnapped? Taken by some big, bad Purpleblood?” His grip goes slack, hand wandering to the nubs atop his mate’s head.

His own horns — hornbeds, especially — have always been sensitive. Not always sexually, but he gingerly rubs the area, wondering if Karkat feels the same.

“ Tell me . Wanna hear your voice — even ‘f it’s n-not th’ one in your throat.”

 

*

 

That's an accusation that Karkat should feel shame for; he doesn't.

Villages don't have all the luxuries as cities and kingdoms do. All it took was one dirty book to hook Karkat on the finer brands of smut.

He can't even say nothing about just being touched before his nook wants to leak; that was true even the first night when Gamzee ate him out.

 

"Like yyou can talk...," he lifts his leg just to chirp as it allows Gamzee to get that much more into him, closer, deeper, it's a miracle Karkat's still got enough brain to be lucid and talking, "..like y'can't keep your hands off me."

Gamzee grips a spilling handful of ass, Karkat fluttering a moan from it while being teased further for being dirty; for being greedy . "If-If I pupate 'fore you, I'll just--!?" Karkat yelps from the slap and squeeze on his flesh, more surprise than anything, trilling through a soft groan. "....I'll jus' sit on your body 'coon and wait for you.."

Only briefly, Karkat wonders how hard it might be for Indigos to pupate; he knows seadwellers make their cocoons in the waves, because it's safer than being on land while so vulnerable, and knows in his own village when trolls who are about to 'coon start sloughing up sticky strands of silk from their skin, go find somewhere safe like in their hive or wherever instinct tells them, stick themselves wherever and build up the silk around them.

 

Purplebloods must have a harder time, being on the road.

(He remembers Kanaya's 'coon holed up in her room, white with a jaded tinge and going in almost every day to see if she'd broke through yet; remembers when Rufioh got his adult body it came with wings; wonders with his blood mutation if he'd get wings maybe.)

Gamzee asks the big-caeger-winning question, and even as dirty-minded as Karkat is, he isn't ready for it, skin gone hot and bright with his color though he hardly has enough attention span for a proper answer that isn't drooling incoherence; Gamzee staring him down with piercing, lusty purple doesn't help either.

"You don't e v -even know..th' halff o f it...Of coursse I had a couple."

He looks Gamzee as best as he can in the eye; greedy and tempting his own downfall.

"Bet you'd like t' know, hnm? 'f I imagined myself in a book like that . Mindin' my own business 'til I'm being plucked up and off and away. Already practically prone b'fore they rip the bodice off-- there has to be a bodice, y'know, 's why it's called a ' bodice-ripper'," and a damn good bodice-ripper read it was, too.

Karkat trills low, pushing his head into Gamzee's hand, thrumming when fingers stroke at the hornbed; his horns are short, so all the nerves are right there , concentrated sensitive on his head.

"Stop? Or keep going? Their bulge is too backed up with slurry it can't even sheathe, 'nd that's what I'm there for, naive little village troll that can't protect himself. Gets dragged however they want s' they can force my poor tight nook open on that fat bulge, rut me like a beast, "He doesn't look away, biting his lip and grinning with a touch of manic, holding on to Gamzee with one hand and letting the other palm over his chest.

"Open and use every single hole 'til I'm leaking Purple, marked up and claimed as their very own bulge-warming toy. Taking me with them so they've got a nice, little bulge and bucket sleeve to use when they're backed up all over again."

 

Karkat Vantas absolutely has no business looking as innocent as he does and certainly not calling anyone else a pervert.

 

*

 

"That's so motherfuckin' predictable." He slurs, surprised at the filth coming from Karkat's mouth.

The world spins for a second as he rolls atop Karkat, trapping the poor mutant beneath him; he sinks to the hilt, and Karkat is so stretched .

"We're so mindless, we can't even empty our shame globes without findin' some poor lowblood to fill? What's the dialogue like? Bet we ain't even got any." He rolls his hips, feeling a barbed tip poke and prod and curl up against his seedflap -- Karkat's seedflap.

"Just some bulges 'nd hands for you." He chuckles, holding his mate's hips down, grinding into him almost painfully .

 

As much as Gamzee's never read a 'bodice-ripper' -- and wouldn't if he could, because Chahut would inevitably find out and tease him about the contents of the book -- he's come across more than one lowblood who thinks that is why they're being targeted.

Not for their money, food, or supplies.

Not even for their blood.

It's almost insulting when some lowblood thinks they've been abducted just to be used as a bucket. Like they're all literally too pan-rotted to take care of their own needs. The existence of female Purplebloods, and pupae, also often confuse trolls; as if Purplebloods are all fully-grown adult males upon hatching.

 

They're beasts, either way.

 

"Too bad for you, mate'f mine, y'took your bodice off for me, 'nd I didn' force nothin' ." Still holding Karkat down, Gamzee leans back on his haunches, bulge pulled from his mate's depths.

"Bet some motherfuckers wish they could've taken you back, all beaten 'n' bloody 'nd raped . Used-up like a bucket." His free hand plays with his own bulge, coated in bright, bright red.

On his knees, Gamzee pulls Karkat's hips into his lap, biting back moans and hissing his breath as he penetrates Karkat again, sinks right back to the hilt. Like this, he can see just how stretched his mate is; he can see their connection just as much as he can feel it.

"Could do this all day," he rumbles, shallowly rolling his hips, "rut into you while you babble like a pan-dead troll. Like my bulge's that good." The highblood brings himself close to Karkat, lips catching, hair tickling.

"Prob'ly be satisfied by any old fucker, you're s-so motherfuckin' sensitive." He finally kisses his mate, chirruping, perhaps enjoying it too much just for a kiss.

"Not fair. All I've known's you . 'S all I need to know." Finally, he thrusts in earnest, quietly groaning, shuddering.

He's never known the feeling of breakability , but there's something addictive about it; that he could break Karkat, feel the mutant break. If he dug deep enough, he could probably find that weeping troll again. Pull out Karkat's heart and hold it, still beating, in his hand.

" I love y'so, Karkat. " Gamzee rumbles, slurring Beforian.

" Cull anyone who touches you, who looks at you with filth in their pans. " He rambles, stopping only when he's blindly kissing his mate's face; cheeks, lips, brow, neck. The sensation tickles his own face, a soft contrast to the spikes of pleasure making his nook drip and his bulge thrash, pulsating inside his mate.

 

*

 

"Th' dialogue is beyond horrible ," Karkat giggles, head dropping back and gasping at the feel of Gamzee grinding to the root, to the very hilt. It's just bordering on painful, but not. To a normal troll, probably; as a breeder, Karkat's built delicately durable , he can certainly take it as rough as he reads it.

"Fantasies 'r fantasies for a reasonn, they're usually s'posed t' stay like tha-a aagh !" Bulge draws out of his nook a little too soon for Karkat, his head coming up as Gamzee pulls him higher on his lap.

They both feel his bulge and how it stretches Karkat's flesh, how Karkat accommodates it the whole way, barbed tip prodding around the barrier. "D'ya want to?" he breathes out, shuddering a moan, squeezing around ridges and being squeezed by hot flesh, "I'd let you. Wouldn' let anyone but you."

He could be insulted, that Gamzee could think Karkat might be fickle like that, that just anybody else would be good enough for him. It's something he'd just have to prove.

Lips graze his with more words like that, and Karkat feels it twice over, from his lips to Gamzee's; from Gamzee's he can feel how soft he is, that kind of soft he talks about him with every time (can feel why Gamzee likes that so much). Kissing Gamzee is certainly more solid and sturdy, straightforward and he loves him for it; to him, it feels like he's letting Karkat know he's got him before he overtakes him as he does. Can't say it's like kissing a mirror, since a mirror isn't at all like this .

Hips snap into his thighs, his-- Gamzee's bulge finding where it's supposed to be, cervic wall finally making enough way for the barbed tip to dart in. Clamped all snug and tight in molten flesh while something unravels from.. behind ?? Behind the root, thickening the length as it pushes through in heavy throbs--

Karkat is too caught by his own quaking release from feeling Gamzee's, distracted from knowing much about how breakable he is despite being sturdy, how it wouldn't take much for Gamzee to break him body and mind how his heart is fairly much the same. Wailing a sob and chirping, finding some kind of purchase on Gamzee or the bed to keep him grounded there.

His mate rumbles in Beforian, one phrase Karkat knows but the others are a little lost on him; he's pretty sure Gamzee is promising something that might be sweet but who knows for sure. While his body still shakes and tenses, he's gifted with kisses all over his face, Karkat letting his eyes close and feebly laughs, trying to reach up to either meet Gamzee or catch his face with a kiss too. " I love you so ." Wishing he knew more, at the least he'd convey his whole heart to Gamzee (or, wouldn't mind Gamzee going back through his head like earlier, if the other Karkat he met could say it better).

 

*

 

Karkat's release -- his own release -- hits him like a wagon, and he can't breathe , can't even think, until it's over and they're both shaking in the aftermath.

He's full, being kissed and pet; he's emptier, kissing and petting.

Gamzee doesn't know how long it takes for him to stop quaking in his own skin, but, when he can think properly again, he gathers Karkat into his arms.

"You're v-very precious t'me, Karkat." He brings Karkat onto his lap carefully. His bulge has no plans to go anywhere, firmly stuck inside his mate, but he doesn't want their slurry to spill, nonetheless.

"If I get upset, 's only 'cause I wan' you so much. Y'know that, right?" Even if he already has Karkat -- and he has no doubts about that, not anymore -- that won't stop him.

 

He's a greedy, wanton creature, after all.

 

"'S only 'cause you worry me, sometimes." He holds Karkat close, and, after a moment, experimentally presses Karkat's ear to his chest.

His pusher is working overtime, dealing with heated blood; it takes less for the muscle to pump, producing a quicker, slightly more faint heartbeat.

"There's so much that'll wanna hurt you, and won't try to - to put the pieces back t'gether after. I just wanna..." Shifting his hips, Gamzee seems to lose his train of thought for a few seconds.

"I just wanna get you up North, settle down for a while. Far trips like these ain't what we do every motherfuckin' night, y'feel me?" Hearing his own heartbeat is... odd. It reminds him of being a pupa, snapping at the strange trolls around him; how Chahut and Marvus would hold his head to their chests until he calmed down.

 

His hand cups Karkat's cheek, tilting his mate's head up for a kiss.

"Your Purpleblood's got all types of enthrallment for you." He has to get creative in Alternian, but he's used to that; Purplebloods tend to acquire language later than most due to their isolated lives.

Gamzee wasn't speaking properly until he was nearly three sweeps old -- and he should tell Karkat that, he thinks. Something funny.

"Y'know," instead, his hand drifts, skims Karkat's chest and ends up between them, over his mate's stomach, "if our grub's got my blood, they'll be one lucky motherfucker." When he allows his fingers to sink into the flesh, he can feel his bulge -- and that does something to him, being able to feel the prehensile tip of his own bulge writhe like that.

"Gonna come out already part of a posse, with adults 'nd wrigglers, 'nd they'll be learnin' how to say words when they pupate -- 'cause I didn't start speakin' nothin' good 'till I was damn near three ." His breath hitches, and he holds his hips purposefully still, shivering while his bulge flexes and relaxes.

A quiet titter leaves his chest, exhaled alongside a soft sigh.

"You wanna go 'gain?" His hand moves to Karkat's hip, then to the small of his back.

"Ain't so sure I wanna go four times 'gain, 'cause that was some - some motherfuckin' build-up... but two or three times might be nice. I was after you all night."

 

*

 

He's sat up, gathered and pulled against Gamzee carefully, settled firmly in his lap; remembers from last time he's not going to get un-stuck until that bulge is done filling him up proper, still hilted as deep as they know he can take it.

Gamzee's voice is shaky, for a moment anyway, but that already shoots Karkat's heart up with pity, hearing him pour out words. It sounds like it's some type of apology, sans the actual words 'I'm sorry', but Karkat knows how he means it (last time Gamzee apologized to him Karkat had to nudge him toward using the words. He won't do that this time, he knows how he means).

Even in his eyes, Karkat can see it, that and how much Gamzee cares for him; how important he is to his mate. His head is brought against lukewarm chest, and he can hear his heart, pounding faster than Karkat knows it to go. Not as fast as he's told Karkat his own goes, but fast for Gamzee.

"I know..," Karkat says, soft voice relaying how he's just a bit tuckered out, but not quite enough to pass out (he was just out, he can deal with being awake for a while longer still), "I know, Gamzee. Still, try not to, be upset like that, y'know?"

He hums a laugh, Gamzee saying things will hurt him and not put him back right-- he knows that, even better than Gamzee says it.

"I wanna hear more about Northside. I bet it's beautiful to look at, but not great to be in-- the snow, at least."

Being told that he's enthralled with is definitely nice; reminds him that Gamzee's as charming as he wants to be when he tries, makes Karkat beam for him as he's tilted for a kiss, stretching up as much as he can himself.

"You didn't start until three ??" Karkat laughs, though tries to hold back some, "You might have been annoyed with me, if you met me then. I couldn't help myself but to say anything and everything. You should have seen it when I first learned to cuss." Kanaya had a right fit about it, she must have been five or six then, Karkat must have been two or three. Even his Lusus had a chiding chitter and krrrr for him.

He ends up having to stop laughing, the both of them tensing when Gamzee's bulge twists for a good moment, Karkat leaning into Gamzee when he can relax. " You wanna go again?" To which Gamzee more or less says yeah , saying that he'd been after Karkat the whole night, which colors his cheeks some despite their position. "I guess I won't make you go until you're dead tired and out," he laughs.

 

*

 

By degrees, Gamzee pulls his mind from Karkat's own, closing the both of them up with the same cautious, plucky motions with which he'd opened them.

It's like relaxing a tensed muscle -- even if he can't feel everything Karkat's feeling, he can focus more on the tight, wet heat surrounding him; Karkat's closeness, his cute little laugh. Aside from the ache in his nook, lips puffy and dripping, it's perfect.

 

"I was thinkin' I'd have been the kind'a troll who'd go outta my way to see you every night, 'cause I'd have ideas for you. If I was a village troll, anyway." His arms snake around Karkat's hips, and he starts up a slow, gentle rhythm between them.

"I'm stubborn when I want somethin', and I don't see why I wouldn't want you less if The Messiahs didn't set us together; I seen trolls I like 'fore. Nothin' never happened 'cause they -- 'cause I'm a motherfuckin' Purpleblood -- but none of 'em was ever cute lil' breeders, neither." Granted, most of his previous romantic inclinations started and stopped at finding a troll attractive or amiable.

They either died or ran off.

 

"You'd prob'ly get annoyed with me first, 'cause I'd bother you s-so much, Karkat." His thighs are slick with their fluids, the thick base of his bulge repeatedly stretching his mate each time their hips connect.

"Or, we'd be quadranted. M-maybe, if I was a village troll -- a diff-different blood colour -- I'd be fine with that. Just havin' you in one." Replacing the slap of harsh thrusts are the wet, messy sounds of grinding; of rolling his hips and urging Karkat to move with him. He's far-past caring how it sounds; if anything, it's a nice accompaniment to their strained, heavy panting.

"Too bad," he chitters breathlessly, "I'd rather ruin you for anyone else. You ever take 'nother bulge, I don't want it to compare. Want you to think of your proper , rightful mate, if circumstance ever has it some other motherfucker sticks their bulge up in you." Gamzee murmurs, lips brushing the shell of Karkat's ear.

"It's like I'll cull 'em 'fore that ever happens, if I'm on this plane -- but I hardly gotta try. Your body already fits mine so perfect, don't it? Even your pretty lil' nook takes all what I got to give." He's damn near purring, voice dripping into Karkat's ear.

"Only had to fuck you once to get a grubling to take." He teases, nipping at Karkat's ear.

 

*

 

Karkat can feel it, when the connection dissipates, Gamzee careful as he is drawing his presence out of his mind. It's not a severing , but like pulling warm baked grain rolls apart, separating into two pieces like that-- or something, he doesn't know for sure.

He...misses it, actually, being connected like that-- not even for feeling how it is to have a bulge , though that was pretty nice too, but just for being able to feel Gamzee like that. There's nothing as close and intimate as being in someone else's mindspace.

But this way he can tell who's who and that's pretty great too, for how full he feels of Gamzee, more or less stuffed with slime and thick bulge.

 

Karkat hums, bringing his arms over Gamzee's shoulders, hands clasped on the back of his neck. "Ideas, huh?"

He can see that, imagine Gamzee as a village troll-- can see Gamzee being more of his laidback, carefree self, relaxed and smiling, being sweet on Karkat and Karkat not minding it (can see that one sweep old with the pacifier taking a younger Gamzee by the hand, making him follow after and telling him ' Don't worry about anything, I'll protect you! '. Karkat used to say that to someone, Sollux, he thinks, when his head would hurt from hearing the dead and about-to-die in his ears or, no, he did say that to Sollux, but he'd say that to someone else too..)

His brow raises a little before creasing, Gamzee making a slow pace. But he did have other trolls he liked before; it doesn't take much to guess what Gamzee means by nothing happening, him being Indigo.

"Hmm, you'd be a decent village troll, too, Purple or not. You smile nice too," Karkat looks more firmly at Gamzee, in the eyes, hips following the gentle bounce that they're doing, "Didja know that? I like it when you smile. Like it better when I can tell you're not smiling about something dirty or bad." He closes his eyes, just for a moment, to get used to their gradually increasing rhythm but also to imagine some more, even if he knows the connection isn't there. "Like you'd have bothered me. Hah , like I wouldn't come find you to drag you everywhere with me by the hand. I was like that, as a pupa..."

Karkat trails off, their pace having him feel more of Gamzee as they move, his nook sinking back down to the root over and over, groaning a sigh. His grip tightening around Gamzee's shoulders, trying to roll his hips with his rhythm, red blooming down his skin-- the sound , Karkat could love and hate the sound of them, sounds like it's going to be a sticky mess to deal with later (sounds dirty and naughty and loud ).

"G-Good thing, th-then, that I don't wan' no one else but you ," his voice flutters and cracks in the middle, and he's bracing his legs on either side of Gamzee's hips, giving some leverage to lift himself.

"An' don't you seem so pleased that I ffit you so well?" He's got half a mind-- maybe literally, right now anyway, to call Gamzee insatiable , teasing him the way he does; getting Karkat to chirp and titter with the quick nip at his ear, squeezing tight around him, only for a moment before Karkat is nuzzling under his jaw, lips at his throat in retaliation and humming, "I told you. This body likes to do me like that."

 

*

 

"I'm very pleased at how you fit me, and I'm very pleased with how your body does you." He tilts his head back, letting Karkat at his throat.

"Y'don't give your body 'nough credit, Karkat. 'S a miraculous, wondrous, beautiful thin', and you shouldn't get so -- so motherfuckin' upset over havin' it be seen." His voice husky, he cups his mate's backside.
"Y'know," he forces Karkat to sit on him, take him to the root, with a gentle slap , "breeders're real important to us." Gamzee topples them, letting Karkat feel his weight.

"Most Purplebloods die 'fore they even get to wrigglerhood." Propping himself up, the highblood steals a kiss, then makes his way down the centre of Karkat's throat.

"Our Lusii're aquatic, or semi-aquatic, and those motherfuckers don't do nothin' for us. 'S why the ones that make it to adulthood're tough as fuck, and prob'ly got somethin' in their pan. Survival of the illest." He stops at his mate's chest, curiously kissing a nub.

 

These are only found on breeders, he knows that much -- and Karkat told him they're sensitive.

 

He cups what flesh there is of Karkat's breast, thumbing one nipple while flicking his tongue over the other.

"Imagine you got somethin' what'll almost guarantee an Indigo grub's gonna... gonna have a caretaker. You'd want it." He continues down Karkat's body until he's curled over the mutant.

"We don't just think you're divine 'cause we're motherfuckin' horny , Karkat." He punctuates his point with a thrust, beginning to move in earnest.

"Though, your sweet stink's real wicked. You're lucky my Brothers and Sisters be kind and con-considerate individuals, elsewise they might try to take you for themselves." Gamzee rumbles, hand resting over Karkat's pusher, cupping a bud.

 

He could get addicted to this.

 

It's a surprise he made it those nights without trying to delve under Karkat's clothing -- even if Polypa would probably have no issue telling them off.

"I wouldn't be half as chill as they been," he groans quietly, adoring the soft yield of Karkat's body, "but they ain't been in your fat nook." He chitters, the closest he can get to a laugh, while bottoming out into Karkat.

"'S like you're tryin' to suck out all my material."

 

*

 

Karkat might have subtly rolled his eyes, Gamzee missing the point of why he was upset, but he doesn't say anything further on it, preferring instead to make his own pecks and nips at his mate's throat.

Just to get rolled on his back, making a short yelp for it as Gamzee's weight bears on where they connect, the suddenness of the impact blanking out his mind.

Elaborating a bit more on why breeders were important to Indigos, Karkat buzzing while Gamzee takes a kiss to trail down his throat, his chest. Even kissing at one of his chest buds, sound fluttering in Karkat's throat as his mate smooths hands on sensitive flesh.

Fidgeting and whimpering noise as Gamzee sucks a bud, fingers toying with the other.

"'F our grub's Purple, they'll come out with a whole group waitin' to meet them. Have that evenn if they're not.." For how Gamzee tells him what happens to Purple grubs and pupae, Karkat will be pretty glad and relieved if this one has him and Gamzee as the first trolls they meet.

 

He's distracted from the thought, Gamzee pointedly thrust ing, Karkat's head gone empty again, just a moment. When some sense comes back Karkat tries to throw a tease, " Horny 's jus' how you feel 'bout me, huh?" Though, it'd probably be more effective if he wasn't getting fucked breathless and blanked out every other thrust of bulge.

"'Specially 'cause you've been all up inside in my nook," he's halfway to purring, lukewarm hand over his pusher while still groping over his chest. Whines out a moan as Gamzee pushes in good , may as well be globes deep with how Karkat feels like letting his head go bliss-blank while doing just that, let his nook suck him in like that too.

 

*

 

"Like y'don't feel the s-same 'bout me." It's the best thing Gamzee can think of to say, watching Karkat blank out every time he bottoms out.

It's that face that sends him over the edge; that dumb, pitiable, blissed-out look on his mate's face. Karkat's not even trying to hide it or hold back.

" Shameless ." Claws digging into his mate's skin, Gamzee all but yanks Karkat to his chest, growling as a second spike of pleasure rocks through him.

While spilling himself into the depths of his mate, body rocking, bulge throbbing with the sheer amount of material, Gamzee's mind blanks out.

If only for two or three seconds, he can't see or hear or think -- and then he's back, too-tight grip on Karkat's hips, forcing the mutant flush against him.

 

The last dregs of material ooze from his bulge, his nerves fuzzy.

"Mother fuck ..." He pants, having nothing else to say for a short while.
Nothing else to do.

Eventually, his arms tire, and he lays his mate down.

"'m never gonna get tired of you, y'know that?" The top ridge of his bulge pushes deliciously against Karkat's lips, straining his mate's poor nook, when he leans down for a kiss.

"Got half a mind to fuck you 'til you walk funny. 's not like you're gonna be workin' in your condition, anyways." His thumb rolls over a budded nipple, lips leaving small affections on Karkat's face and neck until he comes to his mate's chest.

He flicks his cool tongue over the bud, watching it harden with lidded interest.

"Y'like when I play with these?" He draws a nail around the other bud.

"They bigger already? Feels like there's a lil' more of you." He's only half-teasing, wondering what Karkat's going to look like when he's heavily gravied. It's difficult to imagine.

"Y'know," he kisses the soft flesh of the bud, lips grazing Karkat's nipple, "Chahut says cold weather's good for puttin' on protective fat. I think it's just an excuse, but 's 'nother reason to like Northside -- and you'll love the motherfuckin' snow once you get clothed all proper for your blood." He'd remembered that's what Karkat wanted to hear more of, a request in the middle of all this; he takes that nub past his mouth and sucks, tongue swirling over the sweet-tasting flesh.

 

*

 

Shameless, he says, Karkat should roll his eyes; as if Gamzee wouldn't tell him to keep his eyes on him or uncover his face, or even tear his hand from his mouth if Karkat wanted to keep his noise in-- no one came when he was screaming his ire at Gamzee, he imagines their block is probably far enough for him to scream and cry from this .

Karkat doesn't get to call him out on it, claws pricking into his skin as his mate grips him tightly flush against his chest, Karkat pulling himself into him too, breath heavy and crying out as his pleasure crests high up. This time there's no connection to muddle their releases but Karkat could swear he feels it when Gamzee spills-- even more when bulge throbs through the tight press of his walls and a new rush of slime pours inside him, whatever can't quite stay put ends up liberally painting their thighs.

Letting out a long gasp, as if the breath in his lungs had been stuck for a little too long. Even when Gamzee's tensed-up body relaxes above him and lets Karkat down, he's still clinging to his mate, at least trying to, until his arms slip down from Gamzee's shoulders, lightly panting. "I sh h ould hope nnot," he breathes out, heart pounding to his ears. "Should hope not for that, too. I like when all m'bits work the way I need 'em to."

Karkat makes a light groan into Gamzee's lips, a ridge pressing nicely at his nook, feeling like it's trying to pop right back in and in all honestly, Karkat wouldn't mind, tired and boneless as he is he came four fucking times in a row last time they did this, he's pretty sure they could do more if they really wanted.

Lips lead a trail down from his own, over his throat and down the middle of his chest, lukewarm hands still fondling soft mounds. Flicking a half-hearted glare towards the base of long curving horns, " No ," there's a short pause before his eyes roll, keeping himself from shivering at the way a nail drags over too-sensitive flesh, "....yeah..startin' to think you like it just a bit more than I do," Karkat's got a reason to believe Gamzee has a thing for his chest, giving his attention the way he does.

"Can't have gotten bigger yet," though he wouldn't put that past his body either, "Kinda too early still..bet you're gonna be pretty damn pleased when they do though," his point is more or less proven with Gamzee mouthing on his chest.

"Y'think so?" Karkat's only seen a couple of landscape paintings, but he bets it looks so much better, "Bet it's probably it's own kind of pretty, out there..," he murmurs, sighing as lips close around a bud, lightly tittering in his throat for the giddy sensation sucking it sends through his already razzed-up nerves.

 

*

 

Gamzee pops off Karkat’s bud, laying his cheek to his mate’s chest.

“I’m all types of pleased already. Ain’t I allowed to be? You’re soft and warm, you taste sweet and smell sweeter, and you’re a good conversationalist.” He trills back, reluctantly sitting up.

Their meeting is so slick with slurry and lubrication that pulling himself from Karkat hardly makes a noise.

 

“Ah...” The highblood bites back a sudden trill, bulge hanging thickly, curling lazily.

“Can’t blame me for wantin’ to make my mate feel good.” If he didn’t already know , viscerally, how Karkat feels, Gamzee would consider asking him if he’s in pain.

His nook, a cool thumb run over the weeping slit, looks puffy and upset. Red.

Pervertedly, Gamzee briefly entertains kissing Karkat’s nook.

 

Instead, he helps Karkat close his thighs, rocking the troll partially onto his side.

 

“It’s real nice up there — and, if you don’t like it, we’ll move ‘til we find a place that don’t give you stress.” Rather than collapse beside Karkat, Gamzee snugs himself up behind his mate, pulling the mutant close.

It doesn’t help that his bulge refuses to sheathe itself.

It’s far from a dribbling, half-sheathed mess, but the organ still writhes against the plushness of Karkat’s ass, lazily seeking an entrance.

Gamzee chirrs quietly to himself, only stopping the barbed tip of his bulge from seeking out Karkat’s chute. He doesn’t think either of them are ready for that.

“It don’t wanna go back in.” He sighs, faintly ashamed, purple at the ears.

 

*

 

"Of course I am," Karkat chirrs, "I'm surprised you're not tired of my voice yet," though separating makes his breath flutter, a couple of chirps escaping and his body jitters, only slightly pouting once his body makes him aware of the empty ache, like Karkat isn't all stuffed up with Purple that it's even dripping back out of him, at least what isn't stuck behind his seedflap.

Though it does let his body relax, more of that bonelessness settling. Gamzee talks about wanting him to feel good, and Karkat wants to do that too; make Gamzee feel good, however he can and not because Lanque said that he couldn't, wasn't capable.

"Guess I won't..," a purr wants to start and he's about to let it, slowly thrumming up some sound.

Gamzee gets him to move on his side-- which is definitely more comfortable but also has him realize how much laying on his back aches after getting pounded into the mattress, his mate coming behind to tug Karkat in.

Humming as he listens to Gamzee talk more about Northside, "Mmh, I'll try not to be too stressed out. It's probably harder to travel through snow." It'd probably be great of Karkat to not have any difficulties like that, that they need to move so much.

Cooling bulge smears over his skin, Karkat having a slight jump as it curls and twists against him. He doesn't need to share senses to know that Gamzee's blushing, there's enough of a hint of shame and embarrassment for him to tell. Karkat can't really help himself from snorting at that, "Where does it wanna go then?" he teases, starting to giggle behind his hand. Well, he knows where, felt it sliding over round hips and firm flesh, barbed tip trying to be sneaky and push through the valley of his ass.

 

Yeah, they're not there yet.

 

Karkat, still teasing, presses his back into Gamzee's chest, "Do I got you bad again? Wanna get it between my thighs?" He suggests, pursing his lips with just a touch of mischief, "...You wanna get it back in my nook?"

 

*

 

“With you lookin’ at me like that, I do.” He can’t even feel disgruntled with Karkat snugging up to him, looking so cheeky.

“How the fuck can you be so cute and fuckable?” Karkat has no right to make his chest crowd with emotion while his bulge drools at the thought of getting back inside that smooth, tight heat.

Malleable as he is, it’s easy to angle Karkat’s hips until they line up perfectly, and his barbed tip takes little time in finding the mutant’s centre once more.

Even though he’s not up to the hilt, with his mate stretched comfortably around him, Gamzee trills into Karkat’s hair.

“So good , Karkat.” He murmurs praise, thrumming contentedly, building up into a purr.

“Snow-travel ain’t bad.” One arm winds around the mutant, allowing his other hand to freely roam Karkat’s body; caressing his soft, vulnerable stomach, trailing claws harmlessly over exposed skin.

“The twins play all sorts of games. It piles up high, but a motherfucker can make packed spherical projectiles. Twins think it’s real fun to toss ‘em at everyone... It is pretty fun.” His palm skims Karkat’s chest, cooly cupping his mate’s chin, urging Karkat to look at him.

“Don’t this feel right?” He asks, voice barely making it out above the deep thrum of his purr.

“Let’s stay like this for the day, yeah?” His purple eyes meet Karkat’s, his flush pleasant, now.

 

*

 

"I'll tell you it ain't easy. It's actually really hard being fuckably cute, y'know?" he says, acting coy even as Gamzee grasps his hips, lines his bulge back up with plump nooklips, this time it's almost gentle sliding back in; doesn't go as deep, just curling comfortably within molten heat. Karkat purrs and the sound travels between his throat and chest-- Gamzee could probably feel it with his back against him. "It's hard and nobody understands," he sighs with a false forlornness.

Pretty soon his purring matches up with Gamzee's, Karkat making a contented, gentle trill.

He imagines, if Gamzee hadn't come to get him from the wedding hall, doing any of this with Eridan would have been...........at the very least, unpleasant ; at the most his marriage would have been an extremely unhappy farce, leaving Karkat humiliated and in tears. He doesn't want to think much more about it.

Hardly wants to think about what if he'd been Kurloz's mate-- Karkat can't see him at all being the way Gamzee is, and not just because they're different trolls. All in all, blugh .

 

"We hardly ever got enough snow to even do that. Just made ice over the grass. Though , it was satisfying to see some sap who deserved it slip over a streak." No better entertainment than karmic justice.

He laughs a bit, imagining the twins playing. "You sound like even you've played in the snow. I'm a little jealous, just a little."

His chin is gently tilted, Karkat looking up at Gamzee; like he thought, he's all deep lavender, blush spread from the tips of his ears. Gamzee's cute, looking like that. Karkat likes seeing his face like that and the first word to pop into his head is ' cute '.

"Yeah...," his hand finds it's way to sit on top of Gamzee's, enjoying how quickly his skin goes from cool to lukewarm to just a little hotter than that, beaming a bright-- albeit tuckered --smile. "Alright... I love you so."

Notes:

I heard something the other day, and I kind of hate how it stuck with me.

Apparently, supposedly, hope is a deadly, destructive, awful thing. Deep down, i kind of know it, too. You can hope and hope and hope for something, and by the sheer fact that the result that you are pouring all of your hope into *doesn't* happen is what will break you. What will end up plunging you into hopelessness and despair.

I've tried, am still trying, to not have any expectations. It's just really hard not to get my hopes up, and that there's still no result, that I'm doing something so futile, has already left me feeling shattered. Like I'm gradually coming apart and it's just some worn threads holding everything together.

I also suppose that i might be exhibiting some bad attachment issues, as well as unhealthy coping habits. Probably not might, I am. I admit that, and accept it, with begrudging malancholy.

After this, there are seven more chats. I plan to do the same thing, put them up and see if you recognize them, hope that you answer my beacon.

The problem with that, is that these chats are finite, they end abruptly, unfinished.

After I put all of them up, I really won't know what to do then.

Please be okay.

Chapter 25: Renewal

Notes:

i wasn't quite expecting it to be this difficult to do this, certainly not easy, but apparently there are more obstacles than I'd have liked. I'd actually meant for this to be posted in june, but better late than never, yeah?

I'm...tired. I didn't think I'd get tired this quickly yet, and i'm always tired, but recently it's been heavier.

Luckily, this was one of those lighter, more heartful parts that we wrote, something to bite back the heaviness, to make something more joyful, at least I thought so. I've said this a lot already, but i love how in sync we were able to be with each other, never mind same hat or birds of a feather, just that we could match the same wavelength we wanted.

"I love you so." He returns the saying, sharing a kiss with Karkat before finally settling down for the day.
It doesn't take him long to fall asleep, fed and safe and more than contented; his purring persists, ebbing and flowing with his breathing.

 

At some point, even if it does take a while, his bulge calms. Cools and shrinks, returning to its sheath. The highblood feels it, breath hitching, but doesn't even wake enough to do anything.

By the time he does wake, still wrapped around Karkat and greedily sapping the mutant's warmth, it feels like he's both slept too much and too little.

He supposes it'll take a few nights for the stress of everything to wash off -- and, until then, he's just going to deal with it.

 

At least the caverns are nice and dark, the Jadebloods friendly. Even travelling with all the other Indigobloods, Gamzee knows he'd still feel an edge to the corners of his vision.

Here, he can take his time blinking away the haze of sleep, stretching languidly.

Sitting up, he rubs his face -- and takes note of his own general mess. The remnants of greasepaint he'd neglected to wash off, alongside a liberal splatter of dried slurry between his thighs. His gaze wanders over to his mate who, despite his comfortable, rounded body, is just as mussed as him.

His purr slowly fades, persisting only as a lazy rumble.

"Mate of mine," he purrs, leaning over Karkat, "open your oculars. We made ourselves a mess again."

 

*

 

Karkat knows there was a time that he used to remember his dreams (and, unfortunately, at some point, nightmares), but recently that hasn't been the case.

When his eyes flutter closed for sleep, he's awake again in that lush field. Wind moves gently through the grass, through his strings, all of them now trailing out, even the one he knows is attached to Gamzee (Karkat has the brief wonder, that if he were to tug on the thread, would his mate feel it).

Karkat spies that pulsing thing on the ground, moving toward it; what was once a Red, smeared, lump has reconstituted into a heart shape, fitting in both of his hands. It's certainly more put together than the last time Karkat noticed it, smooth like warm candy-glass, the way it is before it cools and hardens, before it becomes breakable.

 

It feels like something even he, who it belongs to, shouldn't be holding, so he puts it back where it was, turning around.

 

The small pupa who was here before is no longer sitting, standing before that massive black door-- now covered and wrapped in chains and locks, despite a long black string pulled taut from underneath the door, leading out somewhere unknown.

That pupa turns around and looks at Karkat with big grey eyes, creased brows and worrying the pacifier in his mouth.
He looks back to the door, taking the passivity sucker out to speak, "......it left...no, someone took it, but,....that door is still here...I don't like it."

Karkat also doesn't like the sight of the door, feeling a kind of foreboding, dreadful, unease when he looks at it.

 

Unpleasant.

 

He wants to break the door, but he's...apprehensive, afraid to touch it at all.

Before he can do much else, Karkat wakes with a slow blink, hearing his mate's voice reach him.

 

Blearily waking, blinking any knowledge of the field and door away, Karkat turns sleep-hazy toward his mate, then his thighs, absolutely coated in purple. His lips part, words on the tip of his tongue, but.....Karkat can't recall what he wanted to say, was it that important? If it was, he'd remember, wouldn't he?

Instead, he rubs at his eyes, despite the want to stay there and be lazy even with dried, tacky ichor all over them. His head clearing just enough to make up words that he does remember.

"....should probably clean up some, yeah?" Karkat shifts more into Gamzee, "...y'think anyone's awake?"

 

*

 

"Probably." Gamzee hums, carding a hand through his mate's hair.

"We'll just be careful. Could bathe in the communal block, or out by the river. Where you wanna go?" Eventually, he realises, they'll need to boil water for Karkat -- to bathe, to drink, to do anything.

Those are worries only after they've collected themselves and dropped Xia and Zhen off with The Grand Highblood -- although the South, once becoming beastly hot, starts to cool down, too. Unlike the North, where the sky is muddied and snow piles high, the far South is barren. Wind whips and howls along permanently frozen ground, and the beasts there are strange creatures with stranger movements.

He's visited once, before Karako and the twins, and doesn't look forward to visiting again.

It'd make no sense for The Grand Highblood to be so far South, anyway. Not if he's looking for his mate. There's nothing down there, and no sane trolls would try to live there.

 

The highblood slips to the end of the bed, picking sleep from his eyes.

"Throw my shirt on," he passes Karkat his stolen top, baggy enough even for him, "and we'll get going. Maybe it's a lil' early for most trolls to be awake? Bronya'd be sure to call on you to feed, y'know?" At least, someone would -- if not Bronya, then Chahut, or even Xia.

"Not like we slept so hard it'd be motherfucking impossible to wake us." He grabs his pants and tugs them on, not bothering with the sash.

He wants to go to their abandoned caravans and grab his own clothes, if possible -- or get some new ones from the merchant cart they've stolen.

 

*

 

He kind of hopes no one else is up just yet, though they probably can't help it if the Jades are; it's their caverns and they do have things to take care of.

Karkat slowly stretches, first his arms over his head, through his back, down to his legs, huffing softly before sitting himself up, mouth quirking at the round to his middle and then to his legs; he's not going to let himself collapse again, rubbing them over to make sure there's some feeling in them.

"Is the river far?" The river might (maybe) offer privacy, from the caverns but not from the outside. While the communal bath sounds safer and nice even, it runs the risk of being seen by anyone and everyone currently in the caverns.

"Do we need anything from the cart? Clothestuffs?" Karkat asks while pulling the shirt over his head, swimming in it for the most part. "Maybe it'd be better to head to the river, if we do." He shimmies to the edge himself, wary of his stomach-- he's not even gravid and it's just slime that makes him look like he is, their grub isn't big enough to cause Karkat much hindrance yet.

Karkat is immensely relieved that when he stands and he doesn't immediately topple-- no doubt Gamzee could have him walking funny for a night or so. He does wobble, enough to throw his hands out for balance and make a small squeak, cheeks puffed out like that would help settle his center of weight any more than anything else. Sighing when it looks and feels like he isn't going to completely trip over himself on flat ground.

His lips make a triumphant, smug curl as he takes some more testing steps around. "I can even walk myself this time."

 

*

 

Karkat has absolutely no right in being so cute so early in the night -- if it is early in the night -- putting a stupid grin on Gamzee's face.

"We don't need nothing," reaching out, he catches the hem of his shirt, and draws Karkat to him, "but I was thinking on grabbing some garments of mine." His arms wind around his mate, giving Karkat a light squeeze.

He's all-too aware of the slight bump to his stomach -- and exactly how much he'd want to sink into the floor if his slurry was found splattered on the floor.

 

Not only would Lanque give him grief -- Lanque is always ready to bother him -- but Chahut, too.

 

"Wearing 'nother troll's shit like this don't feel right, and Kurloz got his garments on. Everyone else just clad in Jade robes 'cause..." He shrugs, getting to his feet.

"Maybe they wanna. I dunno. I don't really wanna, even if Zhen'd soup me up a cute lil' dress." He breaks off into a chittering laugh, one hand holding up his loose pants.

"Could also grab everyone else's shit. Barzum'd probably be able to wear her stuff." His gaze turns to Karkat, questioning.

They'd both felt her and, while her skin was dry and peeling, the carapace underneath was a healthy lavender. If she experienced any pain, neither twin expressed it.

To top it off, both had no problem climbing over Gamzee to get to Karkat.

 

"Wonder if they brought weapons on over...?" Not his bow; the Jades have their own weapons, but Gamzee hasn't seen an Indigoblood wander around with any sort of weapon.

"Might be nice to grab some of those, too -- just in case something happens. Karako always likes to say how safe the caverns be, but that don't mean everyone's totally safe. 'Sides, you could use a pretty blade to threaten Lanque next time he gets uppity."

 

*

 

Gamzee would look...well, a little out of place-- if not completely out of comfort --in Jade robes. Even if Zhen went and tailored something for him too; though, Karkat can see Gamzee wearing a similar piece in his head. Not like the dress she gifted him, but the style, and maybe it's only in his head but Gamzee could rock it pretty well.

"Ya mean you don't wanna match clothes with me?" Karkat giggles, only teasing his mate as he's pulled in; matching clothes was a gift some couples got, Karkat remembers. It's supposed to be a gift showing unity, that someone and their partner, mate or quadrant, or even breeder alike, would stay together.

Though after Gamzee says it, Karkat can agree with him; it'd be good if everyone had access to their stuff. He'll feel more at ease when Barzum doesn't weep from having her eyes open for too long, but he's relieved enough that her body seems to be well on the mend.

"We can grab those too. If they've left 'em, it was probably to keep everyone at ease, y'know?" Weapons out in the open usually give things a tense air.

Karkat laughs again, "Even if you put a blade in my hand, I still couldn't hurt anyone much. As great as shovin' it to Lanque sounds."

 

*

 

“I’ll match clothes with you some other time, promise. How ‘bout when I present you to my ancestor?” He slings an arm over Karkat’s shoulder, taking him out of the block.

 

It’s only a half-joke.

 

As much as Gamzee wants to be seen and taken seriously by his ancestor, he knows that his handful of sweeps pales in comparison to the endless nights his ancestor has lived. If he can engage in silly, wriggler-ish behaviour, then he may as well present Karkat with all the affectionate gusto he wants.

Besides, if Xia’s been truthful, then his ancestor also has an awfully bad thing for his own mate.

 

Mercifully, the caverns are empty.

At least, Gamzee doesn’t hear anyone coming their way.

“He’ll love you.” He murmurs, hearing voices in the distance. The caves distort the voices, but it sounds like one of the Jadebloods.

He walks his mate to one of the entrances to the cave, peering out, blinking up at the moons.

“We didn’t sleep that much.” A quiet comment, made partly to himself.

“If we’re quick ‘nough, should be back in time for breakfast. At least, the Jadebloods like to eat regularly, you feel me?” Gamzee takes Karkat alongside him, ears perking in the woods.

 

It’s always too easy for things to happen.

 

The large figure they come across, however, doesn’t alarm him.

Chahut’s washing herself, unusually alone. The large troll glances over her shoulder, blinking at the couple before offering up a slow smile.

“Could’ve burst my pusher, Little Ones.” She rumbles, hair slicked back from her forehead.

“You two left the celebration early... Shameless.” Gamzee clicks at her, moving upstream.

“We’re mated. You say that like I ain’t allowed to covet my mate.” Surprisingly, Gamzee’s not flushed to the ears; he’s able to have more comfortable banter with Chahut.

“No judgement, just observation... Everyone’ll be mighty pleased to see you for breakin’ our fast.”

 

*

 

Karkat laughs, only for the delayed realization to form that Gamzee may not entirely be joking about that, presenting Karkat to his ancestor; and isn't that a thought, Karkat meeting The Grand Highblood.

Gamzee says he's not what most fairytale stories say he is, and for as much as Karkat's going to take his word for it, the thought of coming face to face with such an acclaimed troll sets some kind of nervousness in his mind.

 

But that's something to be dealt with later.

 

Sneaking through the caverns, even if they're not actually sneaking, reminds him so much of his village that Karkat snorts, covering his mouth.

If he'd seen two trolls going around like they were, half-dressed and coming out of the caverns all secretive, Karkat knows he'd have a heyday gabbing about it to anyone who'd listen.

"Mmh. You think we'll be quick enough?" They probably could, if they're lucky enough that things are closer together than they thought.

This wooded area isn't like the ones closer to home, Karkat neither knows it nor has much apprehension in entering, aside from exercising as much common sense as any sensible troll would; more curious than anything, even though curiosity, as he's experienced, leads to horrific things and disaster.

 

Karkat for one is surprised that they happen upon Chahut, averting his eyes for decency despite recent and prior events. Her hair is much longer while wet, nearly straightened, made into a curtain to obscure her-- reminds Karkat how he wanted to straighten Gamzee's hair out, just to see where it'd reach.

When they're called shameless, it gives Karkat the same bashful, fidgety feeling when he's in trouble and Kanaya's not even said anything because she's giving him one of her silent eye-lectures. Somehow, those are worse than when she actually lectures him.

"How did the rest of the day go?" Karkat almost wants to ask if everyone is accounted for, but perhaps he'll see soon enough.

 

*

 

“Wondrous, Little One.” Chahut straightens, strong arms and deft hands winding her thick, dark hair, squeezing it in sections. Excess water returns to the river, splattering loudly.

“Little feisty Indigoblood returned, seeking forgiveness... None was offered on your behalf. Even with a rotten pan, a clown needs to keep their rage contained... Keeps us from gettin’ culled by the heathens.” Releasing her hair, the Indigoblood stands, allowing the dark curtain to obscure her view of Gamzee and Karkat.

Gamzee takes this for the privacy it is, letting his pants fall.

“I also had my feelings for Karkat.” He ventures, quick to rinse himself off, ridding his thighs of dried, damning slurry.

Chahut chuckles, shoulders shaking.

“You had many feelin’s... Pusher drippin’ from your nutrient gash and all... Makes a bitch scandalised just to think on it.” Despite what she says, Chahut nearly sounds wistful.

Gamzee holds a hand out for Karkat, lowering his mate to sit in the water with him.

 

It’s clear he’s trying to think of what to say, but Chahut beats him to it.

“Apologies, Brother. Pupation is upon me, and it makes a pusher uneasy.” Her sharp nails comb through her dark hair, and Gamzee stares at her, blinking stupidly.

“That why you’re by the water?” He asks, ears perked.

“Perhaps... Instinct and whatnot. The Matron has taken notice, that my skin wants to spin itself a cocoon... Such a shame...” She sighs, “Was hopin’ to delay pupation. I barely know your precious mate.” That’s hardly the only reason for her hesitancy, but that she says such at all picks at Gamzee’s heart.

The highblood looks uncomfortable, now holding onto Karkat’s hand to support himself.

“Y’know, we was talking ‘bout pupation — and Karkat ain’t gonna go nowhere. You ain’t gonna miss nothing.” His words sound hollow to his own ears.

 

*

 

Zhen had come back? Though really, he's the one who should apologize to her, spewed whatever from his mouth and made her upset without realizing it. Stupidly insensitive.

He should also make sure Xia's alright, since she'd also left in bad spirits.

Chahut, even more so without her paint, to Karkat anyway, holds her slow-moving grace with an unseen precision-- with her paint, Karkat knows her grace becomes looming and foreboding. She's very much a beautiful troll and it exudes from her in a way Karkat can't even hope for (the same way he wishes for longer legs that aren't going to happen).

She gives them a chance to undress, which Gamzee quickly takes, going straight for the slurry on his thighs before holding his hand out for Karkat, pulling the shirt off quickly as his mate helps him in. He goes for the same thing, rubbing slurry off of his skin under the water, only minorly shivering since the water isn't so cold.

Though, Karkat is just as surprised and wide-eyed as Gamzee sounds, at Chahut mentioning her coming pupation; before he says anything, Karkat takes careful stock of the both of them, noticing Gamzee take on a different tone, the squeeze of his hands.

Had he missed something? Was something up? Gamzee sounds like he's trying to be reassuring, but he's not doing very well at it. Karkat tries to get his attention, to ask with his eyes about what was going on. Biting his lip before speaking, thinking his words through, "..You'll make sure you spin yourself somewhere safe, where nothing can get to your 'coon, won't you?"

 

*

 

Chahut rumbles in her throat, something resembling a laugh.

"The place I'd want to spin my 'coon, and the place I will spin my 'coon, entail their own dangers... Namely, the burden I'll put on the caravan... Unsightly to take up so much space for nothin' but a glorified molt." An edge creeps into her deep, rich voice; like she'd be more comfortable ripping her own skin off than settling comfortably in a cocoon.

"You ain't gonna spin by the water." Gamzee says, like it's something they'd already agreed upon.

"I won't... That's a certain way to get myself ripped open by a starved, sun-bleached wriggler or two." Her shoulders shake again, ending in a soft sigh.

"Just doesn't feel right, Brother, but you'll know the feelin' when it's your turn." She finally turns her gaze toward the two younger trolls, her smile gentle.

Gamzee keeps a carefully expressionless face, blinking slowly.

"S'pose I will." The two Indigobloods hold each other's gaze, until Chahut looks over to Karkat, nodding her head.

She's slow in leaving the stream, gathering her clothes with all of her usual slowness.

"Little One, I took the liberty of gatherin' all your gifts and puttin' them in that fancy-ass Navyblood cart you two brought over... Seemed safest, considerin' some of the gifts. Since you were stolen by your mate, Brother Karako wrote down his supplemental recipe. That's with everythin' else." She shrugs on a light, high-necked shift, buttoning the neck, then slips into the cloister robes provided to the Indigobloods. It hides her figure, her hair pulled from the robe to splay wildly down her back; she looks mildly uncomfortable while adjusting the sleeves, before that expression drains from her features.
"I'll be seein' you two at breakfast..." She offers them a smile and a wave.

"Don't be late, Little Ones." In spite of her tall, looming figure, Chahut's light on her feet when walking off.

 

Gamzee feels like he can finally breathe again -- even if he does feel a little ill. His expression reflects that, although he makes an attempt to clear his mind of that.

"You look confused." He wets his face, then his hair.

"It's been told that pupation's stressful for us, 'cause we can't rightly go back to our wrigglerhood homes to spin nothing. We spin in our caravans." He slicks his hair back from his face.

"You catch 'nother cocooned Indigoblood, you cull 'em. They're just a burden on a caravan that, at that point, can't even protect 'em." He shrugs, "I don't think nothing'll happen, but Sister Chahut knows we're already disadvantaged, carrying around pupae."

 

*

 

It would seem that pupation is very different for Indigobloods; Karkat's seen stressed-out trolls pre-adult pupation before, erratic behavior, obsessive compulsion, one-tracked thinking, and just a variety of different urges and needs.

Kanaya more or less turned her whole shop and the clinic upside down, rearranging things, got most of the way through the hive except for Karkat's block and her own. She closed her door and when Karkat came to check on her, she'd already spun herself up neatly behind her wardrobe.

 

But in the case of Chahut, and in that extension the rest of the troupe, Gamzee, their circumstances looked fairly dire.

"Thank you, Chahut," Karkat says, waiting until she'd fully dressed before turning his head her way.

She seems more upset, and ill even, than she's letting show, and with Gamzee next to him Karkat can see that it's even messing him up, looking a little sick himself; if Karkat sees concern, he wonders if it's for Chahut, or how Chahut's pupation affects the rest of them.

 

He nods, when Gamzee notes his confusion.

More or less confirms Karkat's thoughts on Purplebloods having much more things to worry about than any other troll.

Karkat's brow creases, hearing the possibility that Chahut could get culled , because her being in a vulnerable state such as that puts the whole caravan at risk-- even the twins, his twins, are a liability.

Was Karkat also a liability? He's a mutant breeder-- double weak and useless --and on top of that, he's carrying, adding a soon-to-be grub on to their pupae count. He must put them at a disadvantage too.

"....We won't let her get culled, will we?" Karkat won't, at the very least. Chahut has only been kind to him, whether he deserves it or not, so for Karkat he can at least do that much for her.

 

*

 

"Over my dead-ass motherfucking body." Gamzee almost snaps, panicked at the thought before reigning it in.

"Her pupation'll go fine. Maybe a lil' stressful-like 'cause we can't put her out near the water, but nothing so dire as a culling. We got pupae, but less than most motherfuckers think; Karako's not even a sweep younger than me. 'Sides, most of us're pretty old. Kurloz'll be the next one to pupate, then Marvus, then me; ain't like we're as vulnerable as when they first picked me up." He actually starts to sound pretty confident.

The twins are far from helpless -- and most of them are close enough in age that, within a sweep or two, most of their caravan will be comprised of full adults.

 

Gamzee scrubs his face clear of greasepaint, the water pleasantly lukewarm for him.

"Chahut's always remembering how difficult shit was when we was all younger. It's different, now. 'Sides, we got you. Indigobloods ain't like to cull breeders -- and, if you really set your mind on it, I'm sure you'd be able to make some nasty clowns take Chahut with 'em." He chirrs, lidded gaze sliding to Karkat.

 

Nevermind that Gamzee's implying he'd be dead; Chahut would probably emerge and try to cull every unfamiliar troll she sees.

 

"I'm sure she's just worried on you and the twins. She always been like that." He offers up a smile. It'll be amazing to see her as an adult, even if she'll initially need to bulk up again; she'll be taller, stronger, harder to kill. She'll still be Chahut, though.

"She worries on those weaker than her, which's... a lotta trolls. We'll keep her safe, though. She got her know on that. Then, you can get your stare on at her more when she's an adult." He chuckles, lulled by the rush of water.

"Adult Indigobloods're something else. 'Specially when they ain't trying to cull or kidnap you."

 

*

 

After being startled by the snap seeing his mate so panicked grips his heart in a way he doesn't like, Karkat's calmed down immediately, since it looks like he's getting Gamzee's version of puffed-up cheeks and chest, as if there was never a chance of allowing such a to thing happen; he's glad for the reaction.

Gamzee puts it that the majority of them will be adults before anyone is out for too long (as for himself, Karkat just hopes his pupation waits until after he has their grub).

 

Clean-faced, Gamzee smiles-- after making Karkat wonder why he'd have to convince whoever was attacking them to take Chahut along, pouting reproachfully before he returns the look. Giving Gamzee a kiss on the cheek too soon as he squeaks, "I wasn't staring," Karkat sounds nothing less than childish, his turn for puffing cheeks, fighting off a smile.

"Chahut's a really pretty troll, and I bet she'll be amazing when she cracks her 'coon open."

With that said, Karkat leans in with all the cheek he can muster, "Bet you'll be pretty amazing when you bust yours open yourself."

 

*

 

Immediately, the highblood’s worries ease. Karkat’s silent agreement — or lack of reproach — makes him feel like there’s one less thing to worry about.

Sure, it’ll be stressful for them all to travel with a cocoon spun in one caravan. Slightly unnerving. At least one of them will need to spend the days in that caravan, with the cocoon, to ward off curious beasts and even more curious trolls.

He tries to think of it similarly to acquiring a new troupe member; something done recently with both Karkat and the twins.

Chahut will probably try to delegate herself to the worst caravan, so he’ll have to find out when she plans on sneaking off to spin her cocoon. It can’t be tonight — he doesn’t want it to be tonight. That’s too sudden.

 

“Didn’t we get our talk on ‘bout that shit last night?” Gamzee pulls Karkat onto his lap, shivering at the difference in their temperatures.

“You’re gonna lay all on my ‘coon like a lovestruck idiot. That’s what you got to saying, anyways.” His arms snake around his mate, hands ladling water down Karkat’s back.

“A brother should be so lucky he ain’t held to what he says with his pan halfway gone — though, you did have some righteous filth to spew.” He could blush just remembering what Karkat had said.

“Are all your clown-based reads so... motherfucking predictable? Some poor, lowblooded damsel gets ‘napped by some big, horny motherfuckers?” He kisses Karkat softly, just teasing.

“Y’know, that’s almost like what happened to you.” He pours more water down his mate’s backside, the motion soothing. It’s easy to imagine doing this to his own grub — to heating up the water if they produce a mutant.

“‘Cept we civil ‘nough not to pounce on a motherfucker. More civil than Fish Fingers, actually.”

 

*

 

Karkat understands at least somewhat that this is a stressful happenstance, for everyone; Chahut who looks uneasy, he imagines because she's going to be vulnerable and unable to protect herself for who knows how long-- with what Karkat's seen and knows from anyone under Purple, it can take anywhere from at least a week to a perigee, she could be in that state for a while.

Gamzee obviously cares far more than he lets on than he does.

 

"We were," Karkat lilts, then laughs as he's tugged to sit in Gamzee's lap, "And I have no memory of saying anything like that," Karkat does in fact, remember saying something like that, and when it comes time for Gamzee's pupation he will be laying across the cocoon and no one will be able to move him unless he wants to.

"I certainly don't remember saying any kind of filth either," Karkat gets his hands on Gamzee's cheeks, thumbing missed streaks of paint off from under his jaw, "and no one will believe you if you tell anyway."

If anyone could ever get away with being cheeky, it's definitely Karkat. He even gets kissed for it, mouthy as he is.

 

"Predictable and absolute garbage. Whoever wrote them clearly hasn't the slightest clue how to write anything substantial past their own nook." The very thought stews through his head, making Karkat grumble while water is scooped over his back, "No matter how much filth you throw in a book, it doesn't matter if the rest of everything is terrible," though like that's ever stopped Karkat from reading trash, "Besides, they're way inaccurate, y'know?"

Chuckling when Gamzee brings up how they took Karkat from Eridan, he gives his mate a grin, "I mean, at the very least you asked me. You didn't just pop a wiggly out and expect me to fall over in bulgeshock, did you?" Karkat laughs again, "I've told you before, I've met things more beastly than you."

 

*

 

“I’d assume motherfuckers ain’t writing accurate shit on Purplebloods, regardless of genre. Ain’t like we be publishing books, neither. ‘Specially not ‘bout how our bulges’re always free-hanging.”

Gamzee can’t even remember the last time he read something that wasn’t, in some way, religious text.

Without that, Gamzee’s not even sure most Purplebloods would be literate.

Not that it’d really be an issue, but he’s curious about Karkat’s past reads. Specifically, if he has any favourites. Evidently, his mate has a good imagination — better than most trolls, anyway. Surely, Karkat’s wanted to try something he’s read.

 

His mate’s laughter has him smiling, the sound light and clear. Pleasant. He chirrs quietly.

“Nah — but, d’you think you’d have gotten used to it? Maybe not to your heathen-blooded fish-mate, but the life he could give you. Y’know, all that opulence seadwellers like to drip?” The question is soft, genuinely curious.

 

A lot of trolls would kill for that sort of wealth and security. If it meant entertaining the sexual whims of a spoiled princeling, they’d do it without a second thought.

 

Even Gamzee has to admit to the splendour of the palace. A thing of beauty, albeit far from his tastes.

“Roaming all over like how we do ain’t really how a lotta trolls feel they wanna live, you feel me?” His claws trace abstract shapes on Karkat’s skin.

“Some nights, it ain’t even how I wanna live. Shit gets tiring, ‘specially when we put raids too close or too far. It’s easy to get complacent, y’know?”

 

*

 

He snorts at that, cheeks gaining some red and slightly wishing he restrained at least a little bit on telling Gamzee about the kind of stuff he's read; Karkat shouldn't talk if his brain isn't operating on one side without any kind of filter.

"Well, I did read one that felt like they tried-- like they were really trying. It still wasn't anything great, I just cornered the pages I liked and left that thing to sit on my shelf." If he ever gets back to all his books again, he's going to go through every single one of them just to read over the pages he marked.

 

Gamzee asking him about getting used to castle life, if he had stayed with Ampora, kind of has Karkat surprised. Sucking in his cheeks as he thinks it over.

"Mmh, honsetly? Yes and no. Yes, for all the things that you hear being royalty is supposed to be like. No, because the other half of it is royal political drama and intrigue. I would always have to have been on edge, y'know? I'm from a small know-nothing village, I'm a breeder and I'm a mutie. Being a breeder keeps me from being outright culled, but the other two things are enough reason for any noble to dismiss me, prince consort or not. I'd have to be really careful and extremely paranoid all the time, playing that kind of high society game; it's a game I like to imagine and read about, but it's definitely not one I want to get caught in."

Karkat sighs, but only for a moment, perking up like he'd been hiding some great secret. "I did have a plan, assuming I could tolerate Eridan-- because tolerating him in theory is a lot easier than tolerating him for real, y'know? But I did have a plan."

That grin turns prideful like this was something Karkat was totally capable of acting out.

"My first phase, if my wish wasn't answered, was to just get through the wedding and deal with it and Ampora-- like I said, easier said than actually done. If I could do that, then barely within the first perigee, I'd have had the entire castle residency eating out of the palm of my hand, every single one of 'em ."

Karkat is more or less radiating glee, putting his hypothetical plan into words.

"That's phase two, phase three would have been the part where I overthrow Eridan, become the city's new tyrannical figurehead and did whatever I wanted until the Empress felt like coming after me. Go out with a big, loud, bang, yeah?" He snorts, "Would've renamed the city, too. Didja know the city's called 'Eridanus'? Sounds like whoever named Eridan was just bored."

Karkat snorts again, though he goes solemn, listening to Gamzee wholly; he's a little surprised at that, what Gamzee's admitting, after usually telling him that the Empress wouldn't allow it or that them settling in one place leads to trouble. His head finds it's way to press against Gamzee's chest, ear where his pusher is the loudest. While claws drag light over his skin, Karkat strokes his own patterns into Gamzee's back, thinking. "....I know.....'s not fair. Should be able to stop 'n settle when you want to...."

 

*

 

“Motherfucker kept you locked up too tight.” He murmurs, settling Karkat against his chest.

“You just planned out your own death. Might take a while, but the end’s the same.” His touch trails the mutant’s shoulders, mind wandering.

“Was it so terrible?” He asks when the rush of water starts to numb his thoughts.

“Didn’t he feed you good? Clothe you nice? Visit with you? I don’t wanna think he did, that he did anything nice or right, but if I know better than to think you’re gonna like me if I’m just ‘nother thing for you to fear, a Violetblood princeling ought to know as much, too. Probably ought to know more than some clowns what don’t even got property.” Gamzee has wanted to lie down and sleep under the rays of bright sunlight, but the thought of planning for it is almost too sad.

The thought of Karkat, so close yet so far from home, driven to think and accept a future where the best he could do is kick up a fuss before dying, is almost too much.

He cups his mate’s cheek, curling protectively over the mutant.

“I don’t put those feelings in you, do I? The plan kinda crumbles on phase three, anyways — there ain’t much for you to take from me, village-troll.” He smiles softly, pressing his lips to the crown of Karkat’s head. The heat coming off his mate makes him flinch back for a second, chirping in surprise.

He presses his lips together, and tries again, easing into the contact.

“Your nugbone’s real heated.” He mumbles, turning his cheek into the heat.

“Maybe it’s a sign of your insanity, implying you’re more comfortable talking to clowns than nobility.” He rumbles, secretly pleased over the idea. Karkat shouldn’t favour him or any Purpleblood over any royals, but the idea makes him dizzy with affection.

 

*

 

"Really? Heck, if that's coming from you my plan must sound pretty morbid, huh?" Karkat laughs. His plan does sound that way, if he thinks about it, as if he'd just been preparing to die like that, no other way-- strange, considering Karkat has always known and thought to himself there's always another way.

He sighs, still with a touch of laughter, "Even a songfowl would think their gilded cage is shit if they've got a shitty master," Karkat pauses, listening to slow, steady beats, "..I was fed and clothed, but any kind of visit was just plain unpleasant . I decked him once," at that Karkat looks and sounds nothing short of extremely pleased with himself, "I was infamous for my deckings. Sure, broke my hand on his face but you should have seen the look he had, getting punched by a breeder in front of company and enough that he bled. He deserved that much if not more, for being gross. Didn't wanna try to see me as much after.....probably because he was waiting until after the wedding to get back at me..."

That would have been something horrible to endure, Karkat knows. Still, he won't allow Ampora so much credit as to fear him.

 

Gamzee curls over him, wrapping Karkat up and for a moment he could swear that his mate is warmer-blooded than Karkat knows, making him smile against his heart.

"You mean me planning my own death? Definitely not. Contrary to popular belief, I love you so. You don't inspire such a need to go out on my own terms. And whaddya mean my plan crumbles on phase three?? I don't have to stop there, phase four could have been me being some great usurping conqueror troll or something--!?"

Gamzee's sudden chirp makes him chirp in surprise too, wondering what happened. Then snorting into a giggle, "Am I really that hot?" Karkat snickers a little more, "Sure, claim me insane, you just don't wanna imagine how great an usurper I could be." He takes a breath, squeezing around Gamzee just a bit, "..Even if I could punch that asshole a hundred times without breaking my own hand on 'im, I'd still rather talk with you."

 

*

 

"I love you so." Gamzee returns the phrase, a gentle rumble threatening to overpower his voice.

"Can't hardly believe you ain't decked me -- " There's a hiccup in his developing purr as he recalls that Karkat had tried to hit him.

 

Seeing his mate rear back a fist was what had really sent him over the edge, although he'd already been upset. Something about it struck a different chord.

 

"...Successfully." He clarifies quietly, sheepishly.

"Least I know if Ampora ever gets his grubby fins on you, you'll fight him." Gamzee also knows the seadweller isn't in the habit of treating Karkat nicely, which sits less soundly with him.

"Not like he ever will. Just a thought." His purr matches his breathing, thrumming heavily in his chest.

 

It takes him a while, to want to move at all, but he realises they'll eventually have to get up. Chahut knows they're out here -- and she's probably helping out with the cooking. She's probably doing anything and everything she can to both keep herself busy and make herself useful.

For as slow as she seems, she's far from lazy.

 

It's Gamzee's turn to be slow, reluctant to get to his feet. Karkat's lifted as he stands, held in his arms like an overgrown wriggler.

"C'mon, let's go gather all our stuff and eat. Sister Chahut made sure all your gifts went accounted in the merchant 'van. I just wanna grab a change of clothes -- and we should get that done for you, too." His clean hair puffs around his head, curling into his face.

"You wanna walk yourself?" They stand on the edge of the river, dripping water. Gamzee smiles, still quietly rumbling.

"I don't mind carrying you. You're like a lil' heat generator."

 

*

 

At the very least, Gamzee's remorseful-- at least he looks it. On some level Karkat knows he's sorry, and that's enough for him to not rehash that. He knows he didn't mean it.

 

Karkat raises a brow before his lips quirk up. There isn't much distance to close for Karkat to reach Gamzee's lips, but hopefully, a kiss distracts him from worrying over it. "If it comes down to that, if, then I'll pummel the shit outta him." It gives him a streak of pride, that Gamzee knows he won't go down easy, if things ever come down to that.

 

Not that they should, stars and Messiahs forbid.

 

They only sit for a while longer, and it's nice to be there like that, laying on his mate where he can hear his heart pump, hear and feel his rumbled thrumming from under his skin. Still can, even when Gamzee rises up and hefts Karkat with him; it's surprisingly hard to want to leave, but even Karkat can fathom why they should get to getting.

He'll be glad though to get some clothes on and whatever they might need in general. Even if it won't do him much good, Karkat won't mind having a weapon of some kind on his person either (maybe he could get a pick like Zhen's? It's the kind of thing that can multitask, aside from being a weapon, at least to Karkat).

As sweet as Gamzee is to want to carry him, Karkat shakes his head, "I can walk myself still. Though if you're cold, I can stay right here."

 

*

 

Gamzee chuckles at the comment, letting Karkat slide to his feet.

"I ain't hardly ever been cold my whole motherfucking life, Karkat." He plants a kiss to the mutant's cheek before leaving his mate, pulling on his loose pants.

They only smell faintly of slurry.

He could probably get away with wearing them, but the only worse alternatives are nudity and going around in Navyblooded clothing. Even a Jade robe would be passable. Not preferable, but not the worst.

 

The walk to their caravans is short, but that doesn't stop Gamzee from being careful, taking Karkat by the hand and slinking through the underbrush. They're worryingly close to a city, even if the caverns provide some protection. It's still more than he's accustomed to dealing with, hearing the occasional early-night troll or cart trundling the pathways.

He's all too glad to lift Karkat into the back of one caravan, almost immediately put at-ease when following in.

It's almost as if the air inside the caravan smells different -- although he knows that's silly. That doesn't stop his shoulders from relaxing, though, as he gets to work looking for their things.

"We're gonna have to leave one 'van behind if you wanna take the merchant cart." He mentions, rifling through a pile of garments.

"Might get some displeased clicking from the twins at first, 'cause they ain't never had to switch out 'vans, but I bet they'll fucking love those seat compartments. Just show 'em that." He chirrs, eagerly fitting himself into a pair of his own clothes; a high-necked, fitted top and a pair of loose trousers.

With that done, he starts rummaging for something that'll fit his mate -- blood-appropriate or not. They're not going anywhere so, as far as it matters, Cerulean is equal to Burgundy.

"We got a weird number of trolls," he starts, tossing a pair of leggings over his shoulder, "too many to get proper privacy, but not 'nough to run four 'vans. 'Specially with Chahut looking to pupate, and the twins." He offers up a blue tunic, trilling for attention.

It might be big, and the style is a bit outdated from what Gamzee knows, but he's sure he can find other things to wear, too.

 

*

 

He's let down to stand, getting a kiss on the cheek and left to shrug the shirt back over his head-- just because they're in the wood is no reason to be naked, especially when they can hear some random passerby coming along the road in their own cart.

 

They're hand in hand, moving carefully while staying hidden among the brush. It's not as long a walk as Karkat would have thought (then again, last time things weren't as they are now), coming upon one for Gamzee to lift him up into. Notably, it feels like some tension his mate might have been holding onto releases once he's inside as well.

"Mmh," Karkat nods; it'd be hard to run four caravans-- it's already going to be a bit difficult for three, he imagines, since Chahut's pupation seems to be hanging over their heads. "We'll need to organize what we're carrying, what can fit where with how many trolls we have," even if some of their travel-party is temporary.

 

Karkat looks up at the trill, considering the Cerulean tunic in Gamzee's hands; it looks like it's meant to fit on a bigger, taller troll, which makes sense, string-laced and decently slit on the sides. He figures on him, it'd probably sit around his knees, could roll the sleeves up some if he felt like it, and he could adjust it with a sash or something to tie in the middle-- can grab his underwear when they get back.

"They'll probably like it, even if it's strange and new. All those compartments make for good hiding spots, if not for just storing things away. There's a trunk space under the floor, too. Could hide a troll or a couple of pupae." Karkat muses with a growing grin, shucking off the shirt and pulling the tunic over his head, fixing it on himself.

 

*

 

"Good point." He smiles, getting to his feet to fiddle with the lacing on the tunic.

"We'll use the trunk to hold some Burgundybloods -- 'cause that upholstery be some shades of motherfucking blasphemous. It'll take at least two, too." Gamzee speaks casually, plucking at the lacing with a claw.

"Don't let the twins know on the trunk 'fore we get everyone settled on the road. They'll end up in there when it ain't their business." He straightens the string, and tries tightening the garment.

The way the fabric caresses Karkat's body is a far cry from the expensive tulle and lace of his abandoned wedding dress; the cheap cotton bunches at the waist, making Karkat look fat.

With a quiet click, Gamzee loosens the lacing, letting the shirt hang off his mate.

"Must've been a male troll, 'cause there's all this room up in the shoulders, and it gets all snug over your hips." He's sure Zhen, or one of the Jadebloods, will have something to say about it.

Thankfully, his mate's going to come into some proper clothing soon enough.

 

With nothing left to pick at on his mate, Gamzee grabs his juggling pins, and digs around for something for Karkat.

He comes back, after a minute or two, with a small knife that flips free with a flick of the wrist.

"You want it?" He snaps the blade back into its sheathe, offering it out to Karkat.

"Easy to hide, and gets the job done. Not really a proper weapon, but I don't really want you out strifing while you're carrying, you feel me?"

 

*

 

Now that it's on him, Karkat can tell this was absolutely made for a troll with a different build-- he feels like a rumpled mewlkit, the way there's too much fabric on his shoulders, not enough to drape over his hips. When Gamzee tries the laces, the garment becomes obviously uncomfortable, tightening in a way over his pudge that quite frankly feels wrong, never mind probably looks it.

If Kanaya saw him, she'd throw a fit over it, either try to fix the tunic or scrape together something else, he can see as much clearly as if she were here with him, making him chuckle quietly.

 

The thought is not enough to keep Karkat from registering that Gamzee had implied....that they'd be holding trolls in the caravan...that they'd be holding them, he assumes, to use to recolor the caravan..........with their blood.... huh ...

"That's.....not exactly what I meant, about the trunk space being able to hold a troll..," the shirt is a lost cause, even Gamzee gives up on it, though that's not really an issue anymore. But even so, Karkat can't really think of anything to say that'd deter them from doing that, so he doesn't say any more on it.

His mate finishes his searching, coming back to present Karkat with a switchknife. "Oh!" He takes it graciously, looking the item over himself, "Don't need to just use it for strifing to be useful, y'know?" This is much better than making a crude knife, though Karkat will say the crude knife has the perk of being able to smash things.

He beams genuinely anyway at Gamzee for it.

 

*

 

Gamzee trills curiously, delighted at Karkat's response.

"Of course! Can use it to whittle rough spears, cut rough fabric, skin beasts; plenty of uses." Equally, Gamzee beams back -- he loves that Karkat has a mouth on him, is feisty and hot as his blood, never devolving into pathetic, mindless fear or despair.

"Y'know," his cool hands clasp Karkat's own, pressing the blade to his mate's palm, "I couldn't've asked for a better mate." He means it, genuinely; that Karkat isn't a weeping, begging damsel, but a troll looking to make himself useful despite his biological drawbacks, allows him to mesh very well with the Indigobloods.

"Feisty, wordy, and always looking to make yourself useful. I knew it the moment we got into the caravan, and you were already looking more than prepared to fight off any unwanted advances. Most trolls already accepted we're gonna cull 'em, by that point. Knew you'd be able to handle the stress of being my mate." Even if Karkat hasn't assimilated, fully, to their lifestyle.

After all, Karkat's... discomfort is easy to pick up.

Gamzee sucks in his lower lip, lidded gaze drawing along Karkat's features.

"I forgot that wouldn't sit well in your pusher -- and I'd love to say I could change it, but it's sorta... what we do." He cups his mate's cheeks, tilting Karkat to look up at him.

"Would it make your gentle pusher feel better if we was kinder to our sacrifices? Ain't like we unnecessarily abuse 'em, but y'know the distress of getting 'napped like that." His thumbs smooth over Karkat's plump cheeks, catching threads of his heat.

 

*

 

More than that besides, he can cut open herbs and plants, gut beasts for innards and things; so many things, and it's not like he can't find a rock just about anywhere on the ground. If he really had to, Karkat could stab a troll, even if it won't do much damage initially.

Gamzee still makes his heart skip and flutter, saying such things; taking his hands in his own and talking like he's making a confession. Brings Karkat's Red to bloom in his cheeks, features bashful while wanting to fidget on the spot in his delight hearing Gamzee say things like that, lips trying to squiggle into a smile. He wants to put his hands to his cheeks like it's going to hide his face but Gamzee's got them

He's had the thought before but Gamzee proves it more than anything now; he's real charming when the opportunity strikes him.

"W-Well put me out of commission, why don'tcha, make my heart pound with words like that...," he's even got a hard time looking directly at Gamzee now, eyes flicking from his down to their hands.
Gamzee probably feels out Karkat being unsettled with his talk earlier of taking some trolls to...paint the merchant cart with. That seems to sober up the rosy, twitter-pated look Karkat has, turning into him giving Gamzee a half-smile, un-squiggled, as his face is tilted to look at him.

"...I won't lie, that doesn't sit really well with me, but..I won't ask you to change it either," he understands that it's a thing they do, that Gamzee does, even if he doesn't know the why itself.

"Sure it'd make me feel better, but I'm not the one dying," he laughs shortly, thinking, "Well, would you..would you even take my Red?" Gamzee told him before that he'd rather not take his color like that, but Karkat would rather no one really died-- he supposes, he's not fighting for it as hard, supposing that whoever the trolls are that get picked up will likely be no one he knows.

 

It's not that great a thought, Karkat knows, and it shouldn't make him feel better about it, but it is some comfort.

 

"I'm just joking, if using my blood doesn't sit good with you."

 

*

 

Gamzee's never figured himself to be anything but clumsy, stunted, sticking his foot in his mouth whenever possible -- that he can have Karkat squirming, touched by his words - by the truth - is too much for him to handle.

The highblood leans down, capturing Karkat's scorching lips in a chaste kiss stained with greed. A kiss that starts innocent, and devolves into sensual as he gingerly bites Karkat's lower lip, fangs raking over the plump flesh as he pulls away.

 

An offer of blood only sweetens the deal further.

 

"You're trying to make my pusher flow over with all your words and considerations, mate of mine." He purrs, adoration dripping from his voice.

"I'd love to take your blood, but you're carrying, and I don't wanna put that kinda stress on you. I don't really wanna put that stress on you at all." His grip tightens, holding Karkat's hands between his own.

"That miraculous colour belongs inside your veins." That Karkat offers himself up at all only continues to endear Gamzee to him -- and he wonders how much further this can go before he's simpering around his mate, always vying for attention and affection.

 

It wouldn't be the worst thing to happen.

 

It's Gamzee's turn to look twitter-patted - he certainly feels it - nudging Karkat's jaw up to bring their gazes level.

"Would you prefer a different caste? Burgundy's just a personal preferences; I like the colour. Don't really hate no colours, 'sides the fish-sticks and Bluebloods. Don't mean they're safe from us. Just means I don't wanna redecorate the upholstery with their colour." Another kiss is stolen, a breath passed between them.

"What'd make you feel best?" He asks, brows raised.

"We don't gotta colour the upholstery. Not now. There'll be sacrifices, 'cause that's just the way of our religion, but you ain't gonna -- you're exempt from that shit. Your soft pusher gets you in a lotta trouble, but I like it. Warms my own cold pusher with how you're so soft and merciful." Gamzee never figured he'd be giving in to the whims of his mate, whatever their caste -- but here they are.

 

He can't find it in himself to think he'd prefer it any other way.

 

*

 

Lips push sweetly on his, even with the touch of fangs that really just streaks his blood hot for a second or two, Karkat tilting himself into it. He's always wanted sugar-sweet moments like these where just words can make him flutter everywhere on the inside, they're not really doing anything, just saying heartfelt words at each other; Karkat just never thought they'd come this frequently or be welcomed so much-- even over something like the supposed sacrifices.

Though, essentially, Gamzee says he can't bleed for the mentioned, possible, sacrifices.

More like, he wouldn't let Karkat bleed for that, not while carrying (and making it sound like not really any other time either).

On some level, Karkat is internally, hiddenly, relieved. It's probably not great of him to feel like that, either.

 

When asked if he'd prefer another caste, Karkat has to shake his head, "It's not really that, not about the caste, more like...," he sucks in his lip, worrying it with his teeth while trying to figure how to say what he wants, "....I've got friends, all the way up, from Burgundy to Navy-- Purple too, now, y'know?" Karkat thinks some more on it, trying to find the words he needs, "...I won't stop you, so don't worry about me. If...if anything, will you let me do funeral rites, after?"

Karkat knows that anything to really do with heathen ways clashes with Gamzee, would probably clash with the rest of the troupe as well. "I can do it by myself, on my own, so it doesn't upset anybody. Or I don't have to do it at all, that's alright with me, too..," he figures, it'd probably be nice for some trolls to get double-sent.

 

*

 

Gamzee hums deep in his throat, smile lazy.

"Would my mate consider partaking in our traditions?" His claws trace the mutant's jawline, and he admires the perfect shape of Karkat's face. Everything complements him; from his thick lashes to his rounded cheeks, his plump lips to the bright, intelligent gleam in his eyes.

"It ain't just indiscriminate violence. We got methods to our madness. 'Sides, not all trolls deserve themselves a burial of any type -- not with how they spew obscenities at us, snap at the twins, see us as monsters and rapists and money-hungry motherfuckers." He's heard his fair share of blind insults thrown until something sticks -- and, if something does stick, that troll isn't usually long for this world.

"There's a beauty in death, y'know? I've seen it. Karako's seen it. It don't hurt to die." He wonders how he can say it with such certainty, but quickly shoves the thought away.

It's barely formed, anyway.

"It hurts to leave behind everyone that needs you -- but The Mirthful Messiahs will bring us all together in Paradise." Another kiss, this one to Karkat's forehead.

"So," his arms slither round Karkat, resting their weight atop his mate, "would you be willing to try it out? If it don't sit right with you, you can do your own rituals and rites. I just want you to see how we do it -- 'cause I think faith'd look fucking wicked on you." Their foreheads touch, and those lavender eyes flutter shut.

"You'll get to keep your garments adorned to your carapace, too." He adds, lightly teasing.

"Can't promise for always, but the real worship of you's gonna take place 'tween just us."

 

*

 

Karkat blinks, as if he hadn't thought about joining in. Well, being present or knowing what's going on, but not being present and present .

Thinking more on it, his mind flits to Xia, how she seemed to have grown accustomed to it, the religion and culture, even if some things were strange her still. Though, he imagines she'd have to be, given who she's mated to perhaps, it's probably not seen well by other Indigos-- other caravans, if someone's mate isn't well-acclimated to the religion. Karkat has the thought, but nothing to really back it up as fact.

"You'd want me to? Partake?" Karkat himself is...for the most part unsure. It's of some reassurance, that Gamzee says they don't do it indiscriminately-- makes it sound for the most part that they end up with trolls who'd treat them unkindly even if they weren't being sacrificed, weighing heavy on his heart to hear the kind of things they get called.

He's worried, how Gamzee says it doesn't hurt to die; but Karkat knows some of that as well-- to die feels like his entire self is being swallowed up and taken apart, piece by piece, bite by bite, until the thing eating him up simply spits everything back out just to repeat the process.

There is certainly more comfort, in hearing that there is something such as Paradise that awaits them, at the very least Gamzee, after this life.

For some part, and also because he promised to try, (at the very least try his best, a promise made with candied kisses), Karkat wants to give it a shot. He should at least be able to do that much.

After a good while of thinking, of truly considering, Karkat looks back up to meet Gamzee's eyes fully, voice gentle but clear, "....I'll try..," his mate certainly lightens things up with a kiss to his brow, even more saying faith would look good on him.

Indefinitely by claiming Karkat gets to keep his clothes on this time, "I should hope so," he laughs, "If you were gonna tell me to strip for this I'd have half a mind to suffocate you with these thighs-- I'd at least send you out a happy troll," Karkat's shoulders shake with his giggles, knowing full well he can't do anything of the sort, but the mental imagery sure is nice.

 

*

 

“A real delighted troll.” Gamzee purrs, caught between pulling Karkat in for a swift, all-encompassing embrace, and pushing him down to the planked floor, parting his thighs.

He settles for peppering Karkat’s face in kisses, lips tingling with heat by the end of his assault.

One last kiss, intense and demanding but mercifully short, as if he’s trying to impart the depths of his affection into that single connection, and Gamzee pulls away.

“I got half a pan to cull myself when you expire.” He smiles, wide and thrilled. Gamzee is nothing if not enthralled with Karkat, eating out of the palm of his hand; he knew he’d die for this breeder on pure principle, but now it wouldn’t be just that.

“Hope we got ourselves long lives together.” He takes Karkat’s hands into his own, lingering in the shade of the caravan.

“You’re a smart motherfucker. It’ll be easy to pick up on everything once you heard it a few times. Though, be a while ‘fore you’re called on to preach.” Another kiss, and Gamzee sighs, absolutely twitter-pated.

“Should we get back? Your gastric sac empty?” Gamzee could do with some food, and the twins never fail to cheer Karkat up.

That, surely, is due to his breeder instincts.

 

*

 

He earns kisses all over his face, Karkat shutting his eyes with a silly grin for cool lips to press on his.

Which quickly (and a little too shortly) becomes a deeper gesture-- for a moment it feels as if Gamzee almost burns that last kiss into him, for how much Karkat feels through it; even Karkat could consider himself crazy, imagining such a thing.

"Don't think such a thing," how Gamzee can talk of dying, even if it is with him (or after him), while smiling like that, Karkat won't know but he loves how Gamzee smiles; smiling like he's that happy looks good on him. It makes Karkat want to keep that look there on his face for as long as he can.

"I'd like to live a long life with you, too. Who knows how long I'll actually live? I knew this old, ancient Burgundy, and she was nearing two hundred sweeps. Maybe I'll last as long, y'know?" As far as that, Karkat can only hope that he ages gracefully.

 

"If you wanna believe a madman's words, a couple sweeps back we had a tradestroll come through our village once. The idiot got drunk and went off raving nonsense how my Redblood was a bridge between Burgundy and Tyrian, in his words, 'lowest of the low, highest of the high'. Of course, we locked him in for the day for disturbing the peace." Karkat snickers and shakes his head at the memory before sighing, "As shithive as it sounds, it's nice to think that I might last a decent while, isn't it?"

If he could live for a good while, he'd be happy with that much; it'd keep Gamzee from dying earlier than he should, and Karkat would be even happier with that.

 

Gamzee reassures him about learning some of his ways, making Karkat smile a touch brighter, "I'll try. I'm smarter than the average village bumpkin, y'know?"

Karkat doesn't think he'll be anywhere near being able to preach, especially about something he doesn't know, but Gamzee seems to have faith in him, so he'll bank on that.

 

He tilts up to meet Gamzee's kiss, nodding as that silly grin inches it's way onto his face, "We should head back, before it looks like we're gone too long. That's the kind of stuff that gets gossiped about."

That, well, even if that's not really a thing here and he is feeling a little hungry-- and he's going to change out of this ill-fitting shirt, either throw on his leggings or the dress he'd gotten from Zhen.

 

*

 

"Two hundred sweeps is just a drop for me." Gamzee pulls reluctantly away from his mate, dropping out the back of the caravan.

"The Grand Highblood got thousands of sweeps behind him, and he ain't even turning white, yet." Granted, to live to such a ripe, old age isn't common. Their lives of violence and strife eventually serve to catch up to them -- but Gamzee's met his fair share of Indigobloods counting their sweeps in the hundreds.

 

A scant few have made it past a thousand.

 

As far as Gamzee knows, his ancestor is the only Indigoblood he's met to emerge into thousands upon thousands of sweeps. Based on how old Karkat's Village Elder appeared, then he'd have to guess there to be a large age gap between the lifespans of Navybloods and Indigobloods.

"Y'know," he wraps his arms around Karkat's hips, lowering him to the ground, "it ain't sure how long we live, neither." He laces his fingers between Karkat's, now walking on the path back to the caverns. It feels safer like this, with weapons and clothes on their backs.

"Longer than Navybloods, but that don't say much -- my ancestor's the oldest Indigoblood I ever met. Truthfully, he probably ain't even so sure of when his own life'll end. Almost all of us meet an unnatural end." Gamzee doesn't expect his own life to be much different, although he does expect to live a long, long time.

 

Hopefully with Karkat.

 

He's not going to foolishly wish his mate to have the same lifespan as him, but squeezing out two hundred sweeps is no small feat. It gives him some small hope.

"If you is a long-living breeder, we could -- " he breaks off into a quiet, giddy chirrup.

"We could try to settle down up Northside. Make a nice, comfortable place for our grubs to grow. Other Indigobloods could come up, make offerings, rest up -- we'd have to send out raid parties to plunder other motherfuckers for a long while, but there're beasts to hunt up there, and shit what grows deep under the cold ground. It's more habitable than you'd think." It's, obviously, just a pipe dream -- but one that pleases Gamzee, if his tone is anything to go by.

 

*

 

Thousands is a long time to live up to. It's an amount of time Karkat can't even hope for. He'd like to, just to have more time, more time with Gamzee, with the grub he'll have, with their troupe-- with Kanaya and others from his village that he cares for.

Time tends to move awfully fast, especially when you don't want it to (Aradia told him that, he thinks-- he knows, she would be the kind to have told him something like that).

 

"Well now that's hardly fair, even if I can make it into a hundred," Karkat sucks his cheeks in, lips set with mild disappointment. A lot of strings would have to be pulled in the cosmos if he wanted to even breech halfway to a thousand, he thinks; and Karkat's not sure if he's really favored by any deities, stars or Messiahs, unless it's to be at their whimsy and mercy.

Gamzee talks about stopping-- settling --again, just to be and grow, somewhere up on Northside, and Karkat can't help the thought that Gamzee would have been quite the village troll if circumstances had been different. The thought, though, is nice enough to make him feel lighter in his steps.

That chirrup doesn't escape his hearing either.

"Am I rubbing off on you somehow? Sounds an awful lot like a village," Karkat lightly teases, almost giddy himself with how he squeezes on Gamzee's hand, "You make it sound really nice, though. Our grubs can play snow games, learn how to take care of themselves without being by themselves. Are you set on white fields instead of green? I'd have to argue, warm fields are just as nice." Then again, Karkat is biased, only ever having lived in green fields.

He really does like this, being hand in hand and, as he said earlier, just talking with Gamzee. "Be nice if there was somewhere in the middle, rare or impossible as it is, yeah?" That too is a nice thought, somewhere with some green while being cold enough for Gamzee to feel comfortable.

The cropping of one of the caverns' entrances comes into view, and for some ingrained relief of Karkat's, it looks like no one's there waiting to catch them together-- not that it would mean anything, since they're mates and all.

Notes:

I'm sorry, my friend. I've been slacking more than I've been meaning to. I'm trying my best, I can only try my best. If that's just not enough, then it is what it is, and I have to accept that. Of course I don't want to, but what can I do? Prayers and wishing have failed me, continue to fail me because I continue to hope that they work and that I am heard, even when I know better.

Sometimes, I feel sick. I feel sick and my insides are twisting, and I don't know why but at the same time I do.

I hope you don't have to experience this unpleasant feeling.

Please be alright.

Chapter 26: Candid

Notes:

And, as expected, obstacles always appear. Of course, I myself am one of them, putting off something that shouldn't be, and then regretting it, but only continuing to do so. But when it rains it does pour, and if it's not one thing then it's another. Then on top of it, everything ends up stacking together, seeming like it's all just to wear you down. Can we do anything else but weather past, rest, and hope there's enough energy left to continue on?

Through these parts we wrote, we wanted to keep going with the fun, lighter stuff, things to fill out the story and not make it so focused on the grand disastrous rollercoaster that was this relationship. I even got to hear how you generally hc Marvus as asexual-- I loved it, most fantastic hc, best boy.

For future reference, or as you might remember, my friend, this is also where we gave life to the notion of Zhen/Kanaya shipping in our other fics-- even Xia/Vriska shipping, don't tell me Vriska's type isn't green and spiteful, we all know already. I've never known or seen an OC/OG character shipping turning out so favorably, to my surprise!

As I've said, we had more than one chat and with those we were able to tweak and work things out more, so even while they weren't as grand or as long as this one, they were all still fantastically created considering two anonymous people put their horny smut-filled heads together and what was intended to be a mild back in forth ended up being written on a grander scale; never fails with my detail-oriented rps, we go for one thing and end up with a fic, haha.

If, and when, you return, I hope I get to continue creating these worlds with you.

“I’d have to argue that you ain’t never experienced white fields.” He retorts, teasing.

Karkat does have a point, though; anyone willing to live so closely to Indigobloods, willing to take up their faith and traditions, deserves to live comfortably. More importantly, there’s no guarantee their grubs will be Indigo. It’s entirely possible for Karkat to pass down his bright red blood, in which case Gamzee doesn’t want his grubs growing up shivering.

“Maybe,” he hums, voice lowering as they come upon the entrance to the caverns, “we could move down to an area where the ground fully thaws. It ain’t so cold there. Actually gets decently warm in Winter. Gonna have to do it if our grub’s hot-blooded, like you.”

 

As they enter the caverns, they find Marvus idly chatting with Zhen.

“Burgundy cotton, as light as you can. If you could steal an entire spool and bolt, that’d be even better — but I’m assuming you want to keep a low profile.” Her sharp voice and sharper gaze show just how well she’s doing, and Marvus, in his relaxed manner, agrees readily.

Chixie, waiting on the back of a trolley, hops off upon seeing Karkat.

“Where were you two?” She scuttles over, keeping a distance from Gamzee. Her comfort is more with Karkat.

“I wanted to apologise. I had a bit too much to drink. No one told me the, um, ‘elixir’ was so intoxicating. Marvus says everything’s fine, but I hope you had a good time, too!” With a pat to the back, Gamzee leaves Karkat, slipping into the caverns.

The moment they have relative privacy, Chixie’s shoulders lower.

“Marvus and I are going into the city. Do you need anything? Um... I was told the gems from your... previous commitment... are being used to pay their stay... Do you want to come?” The invitation comes out unexpectedly, perhaps to cover up any suspicions she might have about any previous relationships.

“Zhen wants to come along, too. She’s making a big fuss over Burgundy cotton.”

 

*

 

"Okay, yeah, you got me there," he supposes he shouldn't knock it until he tries it, like with most things.

"That..I'd like to say that any Red grubs from my are gonna be just as resilient, but I can't know that for sure," that and he'd rather that their grubs are Indigo; maybe any Redblooded grubs from him won't end up weak and fragile, but then again, maybe they will. He wipes such thoughts from his head, because of course however their grub comes out, Karkat's going to love them all the same.

But that Gamzee's willing to compromise where they set themselves, Karkat loves him all the more for it.

 

Just within the caverns, Karkat's surprised to find one of the trolls he wanted to look for straight off-- two, once he sees Chixie.

Zhen is speaking, quite animated in her sharp manner, with Marvus, both looking dressed in a 'bout to head out' kind of way.

Chixie hops off the cart to come up to them, starting into an apology. Gamzee leaves him then as Karkat starts up their chat, "No no, you were fine! You sing so beautifully, I couldn't even tell that you were."

During his first glass, Karkat realized that the elixir was like the alcohol cider his village makes-- of course the taste was different, but it did the same thing: could make a troll drunk. Karkat can hold his drink pretty well....so long as he's sitting, he could probably drink a lot; he doesn't start to feel it until he next tries to stand (and wasn't that a grand time). It's why he only had one glass. "Don't worry about nothin', we had a great time!" Of course, some private events excluded and included.

The way Chixie says that they're going into the city...sounds a little like she isn't leaving just yet-- on the one hand, village solidarity, he'll have someone to talk to that will get him; on the other, he doesn't want her there as a potential sacrifice...that he will be taking part of...yeah...

The other part of Karkat's suspicions is something more light-hearted than that, and probably entails more mischief.

"I'm...not sure? If I need anything..," well, he can think of some things; the twins never got their treat (Karkat would have to get something for Wanshi, too-- you can't get something for one, or two, pupae and leave one out, that's just terrible, who does that??) (if you're going to exclude someone do it secretly, at least be tactful about it), it'd probably be smart of him to get an Oliveblood makeup set, not that he doesn't appreciate Lanque's gift, but if they're out anywhere public, like a city, it'd be better to keep eyes from looking at him for too long.

On top of that, Marvus said he knew an engraver for the rings he'd given him; perhaps they should go? Plus Zhen was also going, and Karkat was hoping to speak with her as well.

"Now that you've got me thinking on it, yeah, probably. I'd have to clear it off with Gamzee, and put on a disguise so I'm not culled on-sight, but..," at that, Karkat purses his lips with a squint that's only a little exaggerated, leaning in close to whisper at the Bronzeblood, careful of other ears, "Chixie.....do you..like Marvus?" He's puts enough emphasis on the word to imply something more than just that, covering it over quickly by saying, "..y'know, as another performer?"

 

*

 

Chixie blinks a few times, expression carefully curated.

“Of course I like him,” she meets Karkat’s caution, “but his message transcends his caste. There’s something for every troll in his performances. We’re hardly on the same level, and I don’t think we’ll ever be on the same level. Not to mention, that kind of infamy never looks good on a lowblood.” She chuckles, a false smile plastered on her pleasant features.

She’s surprised no one has come up to deck her.

“How is it... traveling?” She places the same emphasis on the word, a raise of the brows insinuating she’s asking about more than just ‘travel’.

“You know, as a village troll. I can’t imagine. My pan already felt too full when I moved to the city.”

 

“--I want to leave soon , Xoloto!” Zhen calls behind her back, striding over to the two village trolls.
Her sharp gaze draws over the baggy Cerulean shift, and she clicks.

“What is that? You’re not dressing like His descendant’s mate. They need to get you some proper clothing before I waste the rest of my short life sewing.” At least this time, she’s not insulting something belonging to Karkat.

 

Chixie seems less than comfortable around Zhen’s sharp attitude, and glances at the ice pick tucked snugly in her sash more than once.

“Gonna come to the city?” She asks, lifting her wrapped stump to her lips — a habit.

“I’m gathering supplies. That motherfucker’s been taking all the time in the world. Lucky for you, I guess. Apparently, His first descendant has been lining the Jades’ pockets, so there’s plenty excess — you might be able to buy some good stuff.” Her purple lips curl into a coquettish smile.

“A nice dress, some stockings; a good erotica. Not that you need it when you’ve got your mate, but they could give you ideas.” Her narrow shoulders bounce in amusement, while Chixie fights off her flush.

 

*

 

Karkat has to hear Marvus perform one of these nights, but that aside, Chixie is very good at reading and guarding-- because that wasn't just simple obliviousness --, enough to have Karkat drop the grief and teasing he was going to give her, matching up with her smile.

The way she says 'traveling' is the same way Karkat just said ' like '-- after growing up with a literal gaggle of gossipmongers, those little subtleties become easy enough to pick up, not to mention use --, to which he gives a slow smile with a raised brow, "Which part?"

Though, Karkat's expression turns to something more genuine consideration, "..I won't lie, I do miss my village, y'know? It's hard, to go without something that's always been there, secure and familiar to you, though I don't feel so much like that anymore. You might have felt a little like that when you moved, didn't you?"

Then his mouth curves something just shy of mischief, "Or were you talking about something else?"

 

Zhen comes toward them, and of course Karkat can hear what she says about the shirt before the words even leave her mouth, chuckling. "It's horrid, isn't it? You sound just like Kanaya, sound like you're one step away from dragging me to either change or have me on a stand to adjust it." He's sure they'd get along on some level, if they ever met, "Don't worry, I have to change anyway, if I'm going; city probably won't take kindly to my blood."

 

Karkat would never expect to hear the words 'good erotica', together in that order, coming from Zhen. But he does and he chokes on a snort as his smile turns to something awfully awkward, the kind of smile and expression that says 'I've absolutely read more erotica than you would think and I may have already scarred my mate when he asked me about it' with a light red dust to match how the tables have turned.

Clearing his throat and as much of the expression away before he tries to talk at all, "W-Well, I'd still have to go and ask. How soon...," Karkat looks over at Marvus, who seems to be the head of the city-bound party, before glancing back to Zhen, "...how soon do you think you'll be leaving?"

 

*

 

Zhen's brows raise for a moment, and she lolls her head in exasperation.

"Whenever Xoloto deems fit, I suppose. I've been asking him, but getting a coherent answer out of him is nearly impossible." Zhen's ears flick, and she glances over her shoulder.

"Are you going to go throw on that half-baked dress? You'd barely pass for a Jade. Xoloto and I won't be hiding our blood colour -- mainly because he's impossible, and I could pass for anything from a Navyblood wriggler to an Oliveblood. I'd rather not."

"With your horns," Chixie offers her best smile, "you might be able to pass for Bronze, too."

Zhen shrugs, "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

She turns, takes a few steps, then turns back to Karkat.

"...If this Jadeblood and I ever meet, and we don't get along, I'm blaming it on you. Getting my expectations up." She sticks out her tongue playfully, heading back to the trolley to wait.
Chixie's shoulders drop, and she releases a quiet, airy sigh.

"It doesn't seem real. I spent an entire night with Indigobloods, and I haven't been culled, yet. Zebruh's always droning on about oppression and rebellion , that lowbloods have the same rights as highbloods -- he doesn't realise that I'm just, sort of, aware and concerned that culling me won't have consequences for most trolls." She chuckles, then deflates, brushing off her dress.

"Marvus even told me there were other castes around, but I didn't quite believe him. I think... I would've been alright... if Marvus ended up culling me, I mean." She straightens her back, clasps her hands in front of her body again.

 

It's nice to share gossip like this with another troll.

 

"I was just asking how travelling with a bunch of Indigobloods is, nothing else. Whatever you were doing with your mate is none of my business. I probably wouldn't understand it, anyway -- I've spent my whole life focussing on my career. The farthest I've handled quadrants is rejecting all of Zebruh's advances without making him upset, and making him burn my whole life's work to the ground." She smiles, tilting her chin to the innards of the cavern.

"Do you want me to come with you while you change?"

 

*

 

Karkat figured as much, from how it looked to him that their conversation was going.

"I gotcha, his way of talking takes some getting used to." Karkat's glad for the most part that he's kind of got it down......he thinks.

He sighs, "I'd like to. I really do love it, even if it is half-baked. But I need to be inconspicuous, since I've got no clue if this city's mutie-friendly-- which I doubt," which means that Olive tunic is coming back out. Sure, Chixie's nice enough, but that doesn't mean the rest of the city is-- plus Chixie's originally from a village.

Zhen starts toward the cart, just to come back and throw one more thing at him, which Karkat laughs for, "Hah! If I am wrong, I'll eat a bolt of fabric!" He hopes he's not wrong, Karkat really doesn't want to eat a bolt of anything.

He turns toward Chixie, who more or less deflates, like she'd been holding her breath in, sighing with that pretty voice of hers.

Making Karkat blink with how she talks-- was she alright??? --, like she'd been fully prepared and ready to die. "..Well, I for one am pretty pleased you're still here, and breathing, for that matter. I'd have been upset come to find out you were culled. I don't think the cloister would've allowed it, either." Karkat goes for being chipper, grinning at Chixie.

"I think wanting to put your career first is pretty great-- especially if you're able to. Nothing wrong with that." His lips purse again, "...From how you talk about this Zebruh guy, I think I'd probably reject him, too. 'Specially if his advances are unwanted, ...," that's the kind of troll that sounds like trouble, especially for Chixie-- sounded like he was using his position as critic to shmooze his way into her quadrants (didn't Marvus point out earlier that the guy had a lowblood fetish?? It's gross of him to do that to Chixie, Karkat has hit people over less gross things).

"I don't mind, I shouldn't take long," he's got a rough idea of where his bag is too, so really Karkat just needs to ask Gamzee.

Sucking in his cheeks, Karkat glances at the Bronzeblood, "Say, if that Navy critic is bothering you like that...you want I should deck him for ya?" With that Karkat grins even wider, more prideful, "I'm infamous for my deckings back home." He snorts into laughter, "I'm kidding, if you rather I didn't..y'know, unless.."

 

*

 

Chixie's hands fly up, open-palmed and waving.

"No! No, no, that's okay!" The bolt of panic that runs through her is quick to run dry, her default smile returning.

"I appreciate the offer, but I don't want to risk my career. If he ever figured out I knew the troll that punched him, he'd probably flay me alive -- metaphorically. I haven't met many Navybloods, but the few I've seen don't like to get their fronds dirty. He'd probably just tack up signs declaring my lyrics derivative and my voice cull-worthy. Sadly, that's all it takes for a Rusty to get tossed aside."

 

"Karkat!" Zhen shouts, looking like an impatient wriggler.

"I'm going to die of natural causes before you're all ready to go!" She's not quite pouting, although the toothless threats she doles out might be as close to pouting as she gets.

 

Inside the caverns, Gamzee's grabbed a bowl of sugary-sweet broth (now with some tubers and herbs floating in it) and a fresh baked grain roll for Karkat, his own roll held in his mouth. There's more to be had, but he has a feeling his mate isn't going to settle down and spend the night in the caverns.

Going to the city alone would be a problem, but he trusts Marvus to take proper care of Karkat.

Marvus is, as much as Chahut, someone who raised him. He was a wriggler when Gamzee was a pupa, but he has an air about him that lends him the image of being older than he is; much like Karako.

 

When he sees Karkat, he makes a noise in his throat, trotting over with food.

"Eat," he stuffs the rest of his roll into his own mouth, chewing and swallowing, "Chahut made that. She's all jittery and helpful." He thumbs crumbs off his lips, sucking them off his thumb.

"Still ain't sure on your foods, but she knows how to make it -- and I'll learn, eventually. Gotta know how to best cook for my mate, don't I?"

 

*

 

Karkat wouldn't have thought she'd react so much as she does, but that Chixie refuses-- and for the reason she does --makes Karkat frown a little inside. "Alright, alright, I won't, don't worry. But he sure sounds like the kind of troll that deserves one," just means Karkat would have to tackle that problem a different way, if he could at all.

"I'm sorry. I just don't like the way he sounds is all, especially if he'd do that to you as petty revenge," sounded downright fucking icky, if anyone asked him.

 

Zhen shouts from the trolley, and Karkat can't help but think wriggler, can't help it when she whines like one, "Okay, I'm going !" Karkat calls back, sounding like half a pupa himself, walking further into the caverns.

Karkat doesn't even think before chittering toward Gamzee, answering back. He'd completely forgotten about eating while talking, reminded when he smells the sugar broth and fresh-baked grain. "Oh!"

Taking the bowl firmly in one hand, Karkat tries the roll first, humming in delight-- if he ever meets with Kanaya again, he's not telling her about Chahut giving her a run for her coin.

He starts to talk with a mouthful before trying to chew some more so he can exclaim how good it is (it'd be good for him to learn how to make more food things, thinking of learning right with Gamzee), more or less chirping her praises. The broth, now with tubers and herbals, tastes just as great if not better than last night's.

"I should learn with you. It'd be good if I know how to do it, too, yeah?" Karkat grins up at his mate, Gamzee being as sweet as the broth. He nearly forgets what he wanted to ask, draining his bowl quickly. "Gamzee! Marvus and Zhen're going to the city, can I go with them? Do you want anything from the market?" Karkat nearly runs through questions, asking what the twins would want-- rather where are the twins so he can ask what they want.

 

*

 

His mate is a flurry of praise and questions, praising Chahut's cooking while asking about the twins -- saying they ought to learn to cook together somewhere in the mix of it all -- and Gamzee chuckles.
He leaves a kiss to his mate's forehead.

"Chahut's a real good cook, ain't she? Not like the rest of us can't produce grub, but she can really make meals outta anything. Almost a miracle." He'd love to learn with Karkat, share in the experience.

On the other hand...

"Don't ask the twins for nothing." He cautions, scratching Karkat between the horns.

"They'll like a surprise better, and they'll be real easy to buy for. We ain't picky. We ain't got everything and then some." Even now, buying new things feels more like a treat than it does a mundane part of life.

"Lastly, if you tell the twins you're gonna go, they're gonna wanna go, and I ain't so sure Barzum's ready to leave the caverns. Her carapace still peeling. At least here, if some shit goes down, we got Jades and plenty of medical supplies." Gamzee would be surprised that the twins haven't come barreling into Karkat if he didn't already know exactly where they are; playing evade-and-capture with Wanshi.

His touch moves to his mate's cheek, where he places another kiss.

"As for going, I trust you to keep yourself outta trouble -- and I trust Marvus to swiftly handle any trouble what might find you." He means that with all the sincerity he'd give to Chahut; Marvus is a capable troll, more vicious and dutiful than he looks.

 

He'd die for Karkat, and that's all that matters.

 

"You go on into the city. Might be relaxing for you. Either way, try to let yourself rest. We just got off a stressful journey, and I want you to have the best carry possible." Already, he wants Karkat to keep off his feet, lie down; he knows it's irrational, but it's nearly instinctual.

"Have fun, a'ight?"

 

*

 

He could kick himself-- it wouldn't be fair to ask the twins, being that they'd want to go and can't, at least Barzum can't, and Karkat wouldn't just take Baizli, it's wholly unfair to them.

Gamzee distracts him from thinking any more on it, swiftly kissing his cheek and for the most part allowing Karkat to go. "I don't get into trouble, it just comes to find me," he says, but it's nice that Gamzee feels alright letting him off by himself-- probably because of Marvus, that Gamzee trust Marvus not to let anything happen to him but still (maybe only a little surprised that Gamzee isn't trying to stick to his side, they've been a little inseparable since arriving at the caverns).

"Alright!" Karkat chirrups, feeling pleased with a lot of things tonight. To anyone watching, the air around them might feel almost sickeningly sweet, to watch the two of them act borderline mushy.

Even so, it might be good to separate from Gamzee for a few hours, only for a few hours.

 

After that, it's much easier than Karkat thought it was going to be to locate his bag, heading toward a hopefully empty block with Chixie behind him. Fishing around in his bag for the Olive tunic, deciding on his leggings for his bottoms.

"Did you get to eat breakfast yet?" Karkat asks her, taking a spot in the corner of the block and shimmying out of the Cerulean shirt to redress in his Olive clothes.

 

*

 

Unlike the Purplebloods, Chixie has enough common sense and decency to turn away from Karkat while the troll is changing.

Just because she caught glimpses of Karkat's naked body doesn't mean she's just going to ogle him -- even if he is very pretty.

 

"I just took a baked grain roll. It doesn't take a lot to feed me -- and I know I'm here on behalf of your, um, group. It'd be rude of me to make myself at home." She picks at her nails, recalling the previous day; how Marvus took her to her block, and sat with her until she fell asleep.

Chixie never dreamed a no-name lowblood like her would ever be able to stand equal with highbloods, much less have her whims catered to by Marvus Xoloto. She's been occasionally pinching herself just to make sure it's true.

Not to mention that they seem, generally, alright with cohabitating with all these other castes. Chixie had always thought they'd cull any and all other trolls. Instead, they've got the Jadebloods, an Oliveblood, herself; Karkat and Xia are mutants, and they don't even seem to mind.

The realisation stirs up odd, unwelcome thoughts within her.

 

"You look very happy with your mate." She says, taking into her hands.

"How is it? Being mated to a highblood, I mean. An Indigoblood. I knew that they weren't all like Zebruh, but, usually, they'll say something or do something that makes me want to disappear into the floor." She clacks her claws together.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to -- I'm just curious. The last thing I was expecting was... well, I wasn't expecting most of this. Purplebloods are just daytime stories to keep pupae in their beds, back in my village. It's not much different in the city."

 

*

 

Karkat clicks, lightly chiding, "I'll grab another roll for you." With how much nervousness she seems to emit near-constant at least, while she isn't singing, and Karkat imagines Chixie is probably much more at ease in more familiar company, or he hopes so (excluding Zebruh), Karkat's worried she didn't eat enough.

He's taken a little off guard at her question, pulling his panties up, leggings up, then the tunic down over his head. Karkat holds off from answering right away, waiting until Chixie's finished and thinking over his answers carefully.

"We had those same stories, in my village," Karkat is not going to tell her about his clown erotica, he's sure he's already traumatized himself and Gamzee. Knocking those thoughts from his head as he continues, "They wound up being more wrong than right, on certain accounts anyway."

Karkat gives up on doing anything with the leather belt for now, fully dressed and turning around to move closer toward Chixie, chirring that he was decent.

"It's nice-- unbelievable, sometimes strange, intense, but really nice. We've had our rough patches, as any other couple does. There are still things from him that I don't understand, and I've no doubt there are things from me he doesn't get. But sometimes, we click, fit together, y'know? I like those moments the best, where there's nothing that stops me from understanding anything, from connecting..."

He'd begun to look somewhat wistful, until Karkat realizes where he is and who he's talking to, clearing his throat, "Of-Of course, we get times like that too, where Gamzee'll say or do something and I'll just be so dumbstruck that I don't know how to react but to stare and blink at him, that's still gonna take me a little bit to take in."

Karkat gives her a sheepish look, starting to fidget, "Sorry, to put all that mush and gush on you, that probably wasn't what you were asking about, huh?" Karkat doesn't let the awkwardness have time to settle, figuring something else to talk about, sheepishness turning to a grin, "Have you heard the entire story? 'Bout my prior engagement?"

 

*

 

Chixie turns at the chirr, listening to Karkat, nodding occasionally.
“I wasn’t asking about anything in particular. In the city streets, most highbloods look annoyed with their lowblood mates — even when they’re supposed to be red or pale — and the larger the caste gap, the worse it is.” Even if Karkat didn’t give specific examples, it sounds pleasant. Surprisingly normal.

“I’m glad those wriggler-tales are wrong. I mean, I can definitely see where their... customs... might come off as strange. It was still a fun celebration, I think.” She refrains from referring to Karkat’s nudity — honestly, she’d not even gotten a great look at him. She was too busy entertaining everyone to ogle Karkat.

Besides, there’s someone else she wouldn’t mind ogling.

 

At the mention of his prior engagement, Chixie’s ears twitch.

On one hand, she’s accustomed to being the ‘good lowblood’, the one who doesn’t gossip or hold grudges. On the other hand, village life is so insanely boring without gossip.

“You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to,” she hesitates, “but you can, if you’d like.” In the end, curiosity wins out. If Karkat’s so willing to share, then she should be willing to listen.

The clowns don’t seem easy to scandalise, anyway.

 

*

 

Karkat knew and felt that during his engagement-- capture --with Eridan, that he was just some lowblooded wretch that should feel so gracious and lucky to be marrying a Violet prince-- lucky that he was a breeder and therefore still useful. That marriage would have been for show, and his planning aside, Karkat can imagine what might have been done to him, perhaps even worse.

"City trolls sound like they don't know how to do quadrants, at all . At least city highbloods," Karkat points out. What kind of troll acts like that to someone they're supposed to be quadranted with??

"I mean, some things are true, just exaggerated? But for the most part, it'd been nice for some warning, y'know?" he laughs, thinking how everyone not Indigo may have been just as uncomfortable as he was; at least with it over it's something to laugh at, despite his own internal feelings.

 

That Chixie's willing to lend an ear for Karkat to complain has him grinning his glee-- Karkat is always up for making gossip. "I was supposed to marry some Violet prince. He could probably give your Navy critic a run for his money." No better place to start than the beginning, right?

"Alright, so. I'm in the middle of morning chores and minding the shop for my Jade, er, my caretaker, right? I'd just got everything swept and set up too. Then, some tall as shit highblood guards nearly break in the door, they don't say nothin' to me except to shut up while they drag me out. All the trolls who could've probably done anything were doing field and hunting work, and by the time my caretaker or our Elder gets back, I'm already being taken into the city."

Karkat goes into great detailed length to describe everything that happened, how gross he felt speaking with Ampora-- rather, Eridan speaking at him. He even tells her how he punched that seadweller and lived to tell about it, how he was kept locked up until the day of, and how Gamzee crashed the whole thing to leave Eridan at the altar. Gushing as they walk back toward the entrance, now that he's all set-- taking a couple of rolls as they pass the kitchens, getting ready to hop on the trolley.

"It was all horrid. You really should have seen the dress in full, it was plain, pure awful."

 

*

 

“That sounds terrible!” Chixie exclaims, hardly able to believe the story if not for the abundance of proof around her.

“I figured living under a Violetblood’s rule would be strict, but nothing like that would’ve ever happened in my village. We’re under the Zahhaks — a wealthy Navyblood line — and they have all these rules and regulations about class, even down to gender, but at least they’d never broken into our businesses or stolen away trolls.” She doesn’t feel qualified to comment on his current mate violently interrupting the ceremony — mainly because that sounds just as awful as being whisked away by a bunch of Imperial highbloods.

It’s just luck — or fate — that Karkat doesn’t despise his mate.

 

Zhen’s laid out on her back, legs dangling off the edge of the trolley.

“Seadwellers have absolutely no taste.” She swings her legs.

“If you’re going to be forced into marriage, they might as well make you look good. Breeder charms aside,” she sits up, head lolling, “..those leggings are still a crime. If your Jadeblood made them for you, I’m going to have words with her.” She pats the trolley, beckoning the other trolls onto the back.

Chixie shakes her head, thanking Zhen; she’ll be walking with Marvus.

“Your loss.” The small Indigoblood murmurs, attention shifting to Karkat.

“Come take a seat. Your mate’ll kill me if he finds out I let you walk to town. As much of an honour that’d be, I have a few unfinished projects to complete before I expire.” Perhaps to lessen her obviousness as an Indigoblood, Zhen is bare-faced, having wiped off her paint.

She really could pass for anything from a Navyblooded wriggler — a very young wriggler — to an Oliveblood. Like Chixie commented, her Mothergrub-sequel horns might also lend her credit toward being a Bronzeblood.

“Where is he, anyway?” She brings her stump to her lips, humming.

“I’m actually surprised he’s letting you go anywhere, the two of you are so clingy. Like progenitor, like scion.” She shrugs, waiting for Karkat to join her.

 

*

 

Karkat quirks his head when Chixie says Zahhak; doesn't he know that name? He's sure he knows it from somewhere before.

"You don't even know the half of it," Karkat sighs, shaking his head. "Your village has a Navy lord? I hope they're at least protecting everyone, being strict like that..," speaking of, that's a thing Karkat never thought of, "They're really strict on you like that? Our village Elder watches over us, but we don't have heavy rules like that. Our rules are more like 'keep the peace' and 'don't be an ass to your neighbors'."

Zhen pipes up with her own two caegers which has Karkat immediately throw back, "You'd think with all the riches they throw around they could afford some taste! I'm almost glad you didn't see that monstrosity in it's full glory." She makes him snort with her comment about his choice of legwear, "Hey, these may not be the height of couture but they're versatile enough to do what I need 'em to," he says, climbing onto the trolley while Chixie takes her preference to walk-- Karkat can make a wild guess why.

"I wouldn't've let him. I'm attached enough to you that I'd rather you didn't die, not so soon at the very least," Karkat plops beside her with a mock pout, "I blame you, really. Being all likable and stuff, who said you could do that? Now I have to be your friend."

Zhen is also a pretty troll, without her paint her features have a wriggler-like quality-- with paint, her looks match her personality, sharp-tongued and sharp-witted, a sharp beauty. Even bare-faced, she still seems to drip that foreign elegance in her dress.

When asked about Gamzee, Karkat thinks for a moment on it before shrugging, "I'm also surprised that I'm being allowed to go, I'd have thought he'd either say no, or come with us..," it's a little unusual, being that they've been more or less joined at the hip for a while-- and yeah, Karkat wanted some away time, but now he's feeling suspicious; was Gamzee doing something he didn't want Karkat to know about? That thought aside, Karkat grins and hums at Zhen's remark, "So his progenitor is clingy, too."

 

*

 

"'Clingy doesn't even begin to describe it. I wouldn't be surprised if he's burning down an entire Kingdom just because he has some vague notion Xia's there." Zhen cackles, gripping onto the side of the trolley when Marvus begins pulling them along, a glance that direction.

Her head whips back over her shoulder, and it takes her a moment to relax.

"You're weird." The way she says this doesn't entirely make it a compliment.

"I'm likable? When I'm not gibbering, I'm a bitch. If I'm not doing either of those things, then I'm probably sewing or reading scripture." She shrugs, the motion barely reflected in her dress.

"Maybe I just have enough pathetic qualities for lowbloods to like me."

 

The road beneath them is uneven until they enter into the city. At which point, the roads even out, but throngs of trolls have Zhen wanting to hiss and bite.

Marvus takes them to the side of the road, where Zhen hops off. She offers her hand for Karkat.

"I'm getting some fabric. There are more than enough screamstresses. One of them should have good quality fabric. Are you coming with me, or with someone else?" She wags her stump.

"Going off alone isn't viable. You're like Xia. You'll walk into death like it's a hobby of yours."

 

*

 

Karkat snickers right alongside her; like, okay, the thought of the carnage that comes from mowing down entire kingdoms isn't exactly pleasant, but the idea that The Grand Highblood is going to such lengths just to find her is extremely romantic to Karkat-- in the most extreme way, sure, but still.

Briefly, Karkat wonders if Gamzee would do the same-- no, he has the gut feeling right off that his mate would pull something like that. The thought is actually more sweet than not and has Karkat beaming on the inside.

 

Zhen calls him weird and sounds like she doesn't believe him. "You're weird," he retorts, "Bitchiness aside, you're likable enough. I'd rather have you as a friend than an enemy, if that one makes you feel better, makes more sense, makes it less weird," Karkat sticks his tongue out before cracking back to a grin. Even with her stumped wrist and rotting pan, Zhen is more than formidable enough to not have anyone call her pathetic; Xia can get away with it, probably because their relationship is close enough like that.

 

It's obvious when they're closer to the city, more and more trolls being on the same road as them-- Zhen's discomfort showing in how she leers at almost every passerby, on the verge of growling and hissing.

Like last time, Karkat is in bright-eyed awe of the city market, unable to help himself from leaning out of the cart to look every which way until they stop off the side of the road. Hopefully, unlike last time, they don't have the bad luck to get into any trouble (like Kanaya coming after him again....even though that could have been resolved if he'd been allowed to resolve it).

Zhen is, like the twins, much stronger than she looks, and Karkat should have known that already, taking her hand to get down from the cart. "Oh my-- I wouldn't! I don't look for trouble, it comes after me!" His cheeks puff up as he steps down next to her, "I'll go with you, but it's so that I can look out for you." Karkat huffs-- he survived on his own three days and nights without Gamzee....granted that was in a pond with no other being there to bother him, it seemed, so he's sure he could last in a city market for a couple of hours.

Do the Eastern traders even come this far? They might, Karkat wouldn't know, only knowing his village. "D'ya think anyone will actually have the right kind of fabric?" he asks Zhen, walking close to her side.

 

*

 

"You even sound like her." Zhen mutters, bare feet sinking into trodden dirt.

"Your instinct to care about every living thing -- even the things that didn't come out of your own nook -- makes me sick. There's a mandate out to cull blood irregularities -- why not breeders? You're all soft-panned and soft-pushered." She talks as though it's a detestable quality, but if it were, she wouldn't be by Xia's side -- nor would she be walking through the market with Karkat.

A vendor startles her, offering out candy.

Zhen wants to hiss and ask if she looks like a wriggler, but she probably does; with her stumped wrist hidden under her long sleeves, she must look quite young.

"I'll take one. Purple." She points with her remaining hand, voice an octave higher, eyes wider.

That all disappears into a sneer when the vendor tells her, like correcting a wriggler, that the candy is Violet .

"And who wants to suck on anything Violet ? Give me Burgundy." She reaches into the pouch depending from her sash, slapping down two caegars in exchange for a lolly.

They leave the shopkeeper slightly confused, hissing at Zhen's back.

The Indigoblood doesn't care, if she even notices, instead holding the treat out to Karkat.

"Here. When Xia was carrying, sucking on something sweet always made her feel better. Actually, it just makes her feel better in general, but you'd have to rip her hands off for her to admit it -- and she might not even admit it, then." Not that Karkat's in a foul mood, but she's lived with a breeder her entire life.

 

Sugar just makes them feel better, as far as she's aware.

 

"Some Burgundy cotton shouldn't be hard to get. I mean, I'm not here looking for silk. We'd have to raid a lot of villages, villas, and manours, just to get enough viable coinage to buy silk -- or crêpe, chiffon, satin, lace. It's all expensive. I'd rather just cull the screamstress and take it all for myself. Fat chance of finding anything fit for cold weather, too. It never gets cold enough, here." She rambles, yanking Karkat close whenever another troll draws too near. More than once, she hisses under her breath.

"City trolls have no fucking manners."

 

*

 

"Because if the Mother Grubs start dying again, then who'll pump out grubs?" Karkat sing-songs.

At least that's what the ancient tomes Kanaya has say, the big reason breeder trolls started hatching up so long ago from the caverns was to hold out the survival of trolls across the world; a last-ditch effort to preserve their people by their brooding proxy. It took sweeps upon sweeps until a new healthy Mother Grub hatched, a few hundred more before there was more than one that retook their place at sustaining the populations.

Even with that, they didn't stop making breeders, evidently.

 

They're called out by a candy vendor, Karkat eyeing their wares with some interest (gaze half-lidded, hoping thick lashes cover enough of his eyes that they think he's a pupa too), holding it in when Zhen absolutely pretends that she's as much wriggler as the vendor thinks she is. Though even Karkat is mildly offended when the vendor corrects her, then making a grimace at the thought of sucking on anything Violet.

He's got half a mind to kick the vendor in the shins, lips pursed in a look toward them as he clicks, though he's distracted by that lolly. Zhen is right, for the most part, sugar does a ton of things for breeders, carrying or not. "Ah-- Thanks..," Hadn't she wanted it though? Or did Zhen buy it because of him? "Do you like sweets? If I had the right fruit or plant things, and all the ingredients, I could probably make Purple candy..," seemed like just Indigo and Tyrian were missing from the candy cart.

Karkat nods, sucking on the candy pop, "Mmh, that makes sense, I guess," even if she probably has to kill the screamstress for their supplies, Karkat gets it; outright buying the fabric needs a lot of caegers, he's got Kanaya as an example.

On that line of thought, Karkat bets if he asks and wheedles her, she'd give up a bolt of silk for Zhen to use. Maybe.

He's pulled aside more than once, and true, city trolls really don't have manners-- if someone bumps him they don't even turn to acknowledge that they did, sneering at the two of them and continuing on their way. "Don't worry about that, at least no one's coming up to mug us, I hear that's common in cities like this."

 

*

 

"Purple candy is kind of redundant, isn't it? You can just go suck on your mate." She throws her head back, cackling loud enough to draw a few looks -- there isn't enough Indigo on her dress to definitively identify her as such, and her age could vary widely, leaving a lot of trolls with a lot of unanswered questions.

Karkat doesn't help, pretending to be an Oliveblood.

 

It's been a while since she's laughed so much, stopping only when there's a stitch in her side.

 

"If the Mothergrubs start dying again, you bet your pretty little ass all breeders will either be kidnapped by Indigobloods, or culled. It'd be a boon, actually, if that happened. For us, anyway. I'm not sure how the other castes would take it, but they can all wither and die, for all I really care." She eyes stalls, making sure to keep Karkat close -- or to keep close to Karkat.

Gamzee will have her head if anything happens to Karkat, regardless of what the mutant wants.

"If someone tries to mug us, I'll make them stab themselves. It's a really bad idea to mug a fucking clown -- although, apparently, I look like a no-pan wriggler. That's only half-true half the time." She hooks her arm into Karkat's, dragging the mutant over to a stall selling fabrics.

 

The troll peddling their wares sizes them up, and Zhen ignores the troll's gaze in favour of peeking at the fabric.

"I need a few lengths of Burgundy cotton." She says, finally looking to the stall owner -- who is watching Karkat lick his lolly with a little too much interest.

She looks at Karkat, too, then back to the shop owner, chirping after a moment.

"Take whatever nasty thoughts you're having and lock them in a box. My palemate's quadrants are filled very nicely, and I need some goddamn Burgundy cotton." As if to emphasise this, Zhen hooks her arm through Karkat's, exposing her stumped wrist.

That has the stall vendor perking up, nodding and scuttling into the back.

Zhen sighs, still puffed up.

"Dammit, everyone's so horny. You and your mate included. I found your stash of utter trash, Karkat." She stifles a giggle.

"I didn't even know trolls were writing clown smut. It must be awful. Probably full of rape. I won't say no Indigoblood has never raped a lowblood, but I will say we have a better track record than... pretty much every other highblooded caste. Chalk it up to segregation. It's still a better look." She sticks her tongue out childishly.

 

*

 

A long snrrrrk snorts out of him, palm over his face, "Oh -- that-- no such thought has ever crossed my mind!"

The thought has....on occasion....crossed Karkat's mind at some point. Not that he'd ever admit such a thing.

It's nice to see Zhen laugh, a hearty sound, even if some trolls turn to give them looks.

"Alright, alright, everyone better hope the Mother Grubs don't start dying again." Karkat can't imagine the kind of chaos that'd throw everyone and everything into.

And he's already kidnapped and mated, he's already in too deep.

 

Karkat hums, agreeing that it'd be dumb of someone to mug a clown, "Is it horrible of me that I'd like to see someone try, just to see them stab themselves?" It probably is, but it'd be well-deserved-- on the mugging party's part anyway. "If you're a no-pan wriggler, you're the most powerful no-pan wriggler I know."

Something must catch her eye enough that Zhen drags Karkat along with her, arm in arm toward a stall. The vendor looks them over while Zhen looks through their stuff, finally asking for Burgundy cotton. Karkat peruses just to look, not quite realizing the vendor's gaze until Zhen chirps and brings it up. To which he frowns, going along with the palemate act and tightening his arm around Zhen's.
He should have figured he'd catch someone's eye, just not like that; even his scent would, though it must get lost among all the bodies moving around here.

"In broad moonlight, how rude..," he's not sure he even wants to know what kind of thoughts the vendor had.

Karkat nearly snaps his head toward Zhen and her mention of his 'trash', fighting red from blooming on his face-- he literally can't blush right here right now. "Hold on, what are you talking about? Whatever nasty trash I may or may not have certainly never made this trip." He says rather pointedly, so very sure all of his books got packed up to go with Kanaya, even his trashy smut. "...But yeah, they are awful, and completely inaccurate and chock full of the non-Purple, non-clown author's rapey fantasy. Utter garbage."

 

*

 

"And you've read them." Zhen chirps, prodding Karkat with her stump.

"We're not in a village anymore. It's fine to admit you like your mate's bulge. Besides, I have first-hand knowledge of that -- it was really fun to hear you two frantically mate. Lucky for the both of you, I'm more than used to waking up in weird situations." Her voice dies when the vendor returns with a bolt of Burgundy cotton.

With her good hand, Zhen feels up the fabric, then gives out her measurements, and asks for a price.

The answer makes her stop and consider jumping the stall owner, viciously mauling him before stealing as many of his goods as she and Karkat can carry -- but then she reaches into her coin purse, pulling out and counting caegars.

By the end of the transaction, Zhen's arms are full of Burgundy cotton, and the purse attached to her sash is much lighter.

She chirrs, plodding beside Karkat.

"Do you know how expensive that was? I almost culled the fucker." She whispers, clearly agitated.

"Even if we found some silk, I'd imagine we'd have to wager that little grubling growing in your gestation sac just to cover the costs. Who the fuck does business like that?"

It's more and more obvious that Zhen doesn't often go into any cities; she's accustomed to being left behind, left to her books or to her sewing on good days, and left to herself on bad days.

Being out and about like this makes her want to curl up in that wondrous sopor as soon as they return to the caverns.

"Whatever," she sighs, "at least it's good quality. So, what do you need?"

 

*

 

Zhen is more of a brat than Karkat or anyone would've given her credit for, "You cheeky voyeur. I knew you both heard." Of course, it wasn't like it was hard to listen in-- more like impossible not to, given the situation.

Karkat doesn't get to say anything more, cutting himself off from both going on and laughing when the vendor comes back, bolt in his arms. Which is a shame, now realizing that both she and Xia know what he sounds like-- have known what Karkat sounds like; he could sink into the floor if Zhen didn't look about ready to rip into the vendor.

Karkat would too-- those prices definitely aren't right.

"I wouldn't have minded if you did-- that fucker blew up his prices. I know damn well that's not how much a bolt of that much Burgundy costs, I've worked in a dressing shop half my life." Karkat wouldn't have batted an eye if Zhen did jump him, huffing his irritation with the vendor; Kanaya's made sure he knew his textiles and fabrics.

Maybe the guy thought she was really a Navy who wouldn't have cared, which great on one hand, but also not on the other.

 

Though his soured mood slowly lifts the more he focuses on the lolly.

"Mmh, I wanted to get an Olive's make up set, be easier to go around in this, y'know?" Karkat gestures to his Olive shirt, "Well, be easier if trolls think they see Olive or grey instead of 'cull-me' Red," he adds.

"I also wanted to pick up something for the pupae, I just can't decide between pastries or toys. Though before that..," Karkat quirks his lips up with a touch of mischief in his eyes toward Zhen, "...d'ya wanna make some money back?" Mischief turns to unnecessary glee, "How great are you at acting?" Karkat hums before adding, "Maybe we should get Marvus in on it, might be more successful with his name.."

The big Violet gem and others from the crown can't be sold here, that one he's going to go with his gut on Vriska's instructions; but any of the gems from his dress he can sell out easy-peasy.

 

*

 

"Acting for what?" Her brows cinch, the question posed carefully.

"If someone mistakes me for a wriggler and it benefits me, I won't correct them, but it's usually easier to just bite into someone's neck than try to trick them. I'm sure you already know how difficult we are to cull." We referring to Indigobloods -- especially adult Indigobloods.

Zhen would rather not remember her time in their company.

She does miss the safety of her own home; of The Grand Highblood and the other Indigobloods. It's impossible to worry around them. He takes good care of Xia, and has allowed Zhen the privilege of being weak under his care.

All it took was a turned eye and a single bad decision, and now they're out here, far from home -- Zhen could only vaguely guess as to where The Grand Highblood would even be.

 

She shifts the bundle in her arms, wondering what Karkat has planned.

"Get them treats." She changes the subject, after a moment of deliberation.

"I remember the one thing I always wanted was the food. Not every caravan has a dedicated -- or good -- cook, and the food stalls in cities and towns made my mouth water. Especially after living off the land for a while. Ugh. That sucked. If it weren't for Xia's instincts, I probably would've died on the sand." She admits, remembering the Limeblood toddling into the foliage, returning with edible roots and bark for the both of them.

She was lucky to have her.

 

Finally, the small Indigoblood returns to the scheme at hand.

"What sort of trick do you intend to play? I'm assuming I can't really object -- and why do we need Marvus? Everyone knows him. Is that a good thing for you?" She can't imagine what Karkat has in mind.

 

*

 

"Depends on the trick." Karkat can think of a few things, could play some bumpkin Olive selling gems from their moirail again, though he'd have to change the spiel, since he doubts there's an 'artiste ' who can be wheedled for their caegers in this city as well. Could find some engineer trolls and, like the fabric vendor, hitch up the price a little bit.

"You wouldn't need to do much if you can speak like a Navyblood," Karkat thinks back to Gamzee and his sudden, dry intonation-- tries not to remember how much he wanted to laugh from hearing him talk that way, that it was so spot on. That it was how they got away with swindling that one Cerulean.

Zhen switches topics, telling him to get the pupae treats. Her reasoning makes sense even; Karkat remembers being a wriggler and seeing things that looked good like that (Vriska, much to Kanaya's disapproval, would sneak him pastries or goodies; granted Kanaya disapproved because Vriska likely pilfered them as well as already telling Karkat no, not before dinner).

He hums in amusement, "That sounds like something she'd do. Xia feels like the kind of troll who'd figure out how to survive no matter what, and drag you with her."

They should probably figure out where Marvus is-- Karkat should ask if Marvus has chucklevoodoos, if he'd be willing to help them out.

"Depending on the kind of trick we do, either you and I continue to be 'palemates'," Karkat begins mussing with his hair, getting most of it in front of his eyes, "and we sell an idea with some gems for a killing of caegers to some poor rich sap. Or...," Marvus being known by everyone could either work for them or against them, Karkat will have to think more on it after they find him, "...or we rope in Marvus and, maybe? Throw his name around? I need to think on that a little more...."

 

*

 

“Just because I can pass for most castes doesn’t mean I will. If Indigobloods keep disguising themselves, these dumb city trolls will continue to think we’re just daytime monsters. Besides, I refuse to dress like a damn Navyblood.” The mere thought makes her want to shudder.

“I’m not sure you want to find Marvus right now. He’s probably swamped with thirsty trolls. Let’s just see if we can sell anything.”

Zhen eyes the weakest vendor — which doesn’t necessarily correlate to the lowest-blooded vendor — and acts the part of a quiet little wriggler until she’s in the stall.

Then, she drops the fabric down onto some nice carpeting, and pulls out her pick, threatening to do all sorts of horrible, painful things to the vendor in a calm, insistent drone.

Although she’s hissing, the troll gathers up her things and flees, mixing into the rabble.

Zhen shoves her pick back into her sash.

“There you go. We’ve even got a little canopy.” And a place for her to lie down if her pan begins to slip away, but she keeps quiet about that.

“If that Goldblood comes back, I’ll get them to break all their fingers. They must have that level of psionics.” She muses, content to let Karkat take the reigns when it comes to selling.

 

*

 

Nothing Karkat can do about it if Zhen doesn't want to; then again, if he thinks about it some more, Gamzee only went so far to stay close to him, remembering his distaste for the style, even if he was good at the role.

 

Marvus must really be famous, if he's really being crowded by trolls like that. Everyone has kind of hinted at it to him, even the twins, Karkat thinks, but he can't quite wrap his head around it-- has to be pretty big that even Chixie with her sweet, pretty voice thinks so highly of him-- as another performer, of course.

Zhen is all for the part where they sell stuff-- in extension the part where she more or less threatens and kicks some poor Gold troll from her stall for them to use. Karkat only feels a little bad-- not enough to not use the stall, standing under the canopy.

"Shouldn't take long. Just a matter of getting people to come up."

With that, Karkat makes sure his hair is messed properly and that he's all set up before calling just as loud as the other vendors, if not a little louder.

"Gems for quadrants! Quadrant gifts!"

He gets some trolls interested, some that come up and those on the higher end can afford to cough up some decent amount of caegers. They've made back most of what Zhen had to spend of the fabric and Karkat still has half a pouch to sell off.

 

So far, it was looking up to be an interesting night.

Notes:

I'm really trying, y'know? I'm trying to keep going forward, keep doing the best I can. Keep enduring to the end, even if it ends up meaningless, a futile effort. I want to believe that much. I tried 'don't have expectations and you won't get disappointed', but it's really hard not to, to expect a result and to have it not happen, being disheartened by it like you were truly expecting it to happen.

Maybe it's me. Maybe it's my own doubts that are blocking the result. Is that conceited to think so? That my own negativity could be so powerful, haha.

I know what I said about hope before, but I want to keep trying that, just a little bit longer. As far to the end as I can manage.

I hope you're doing alright, to you and everyone else.

Chapter 27: Ira

Notes:

We made a joke, for Karkat and Zhen to pull up like mean girls to the rest of the current gang and be like 'get in losers, we're going shopping', after making bank. And while they do make bank, of course things don't always go as intended. You set it up and I walked into it like an idiot, but I love that about your writing style, we couldn't be too happy for too long; alas, such is life.

That's not to say that it wasn't fantastic while it lasted, because it was honestly. Even with us throwing wrenches into plans, I loved how well our minds matched to respond in kind to each other, follow up and commit. Even if we needed to backtrack a bit in places, it was always for the better.

I miss that, being able to be like that with you.

Even now, I think I said before but I'll say it again, I've gotten so many new ideas, and I know that you'd like them all. They're all things to make the mental gears wind and run.

I wish you were able to hear them.
I wish I knew if I was able to reach.

"Quadrant gifts!" Zhen eventually chimes in, knowing it's a bad look for her to just stand there. Attracting attention like this has her hackles up, but that the gems go at a decent pace says enough.

A Navyblood ambles his way to the front, lazy gaze drawing over both trolls. "Isn't this show of wealth disrespectful to any potential lowblooded lovers? Or haters?" His voice is buttery-smooth and Zhen hates it immediately. She offers up a relaxed smile. "Is it disrespectful if my palemate," Zhen uses her good arm to gesture to Karkat, "was the one to get all these gems? After all, it's not realistic to think a clown would get all these gems. Just because I sit higher on the spectrum doesn't mean I have infinite wealth." She sounds like she actually believes what she says, nodding along with the Navyblood.

"A clown and a cute Olive boy, huh?" Zhen knows that's not a question to be answered, and she also knows this troll is looking much more at Karkat's body. "You wouldn't happen to know Marvus Xoloto, would you? He was in town yesterday. I heard he was in the Kingdom for a royal wedding -- but I'm not here to talk about the royal rabble." Zhen wants to roll her eyes, blinking when he points at a gem, forgetting he'd ever asked a question. A stupid question, but it still irritates her. "I've got my eye on this adorable little Bronzeblood. We're not officially quadranted, and I prefer to keep my quadrants nice and open, but, in your opinion -- as a fellow strong-willed lowblood -- would a highblood gifting you this stir any particular feelings in your pusher?" Zebruh switches to addressing Karkat, thankfully, although he's too close and Zhen wants to sink her ice pick into his side. He reeks of perfume.

 

*

 

Some icky feeling drips down his back at the first words the Navy says to him; the troll is polished but with grease-- a saying; an insult, if said to one's face --from home that meant someone was a shit-talking sleaze, highbrow highblood or not.

Karkat does his best to not visibly shudder and keep smiling like he's some cute innocent Olive that just wants to peddle off his wares under the protection of his palemate.

Karkat wants to posit that it's disrespectful to think all clowns know each other.......even if they do know Marvus, but still.

 

This troll being Navy means he's got to be carrying some decent amount of coin and Karkat's already thinking of how they're going to walk away with most of his money.

"Every troll appreciates a shiny gem," Karkat blinks long lashes behind his bangs; everything about this troll says he deserves to be punched and Karkat won't need much convincing to do it if he feels so inclined. "All the way through the castes-- even us warmer bloods. Probably can't afford as many as highblood like yourself, Mister. But some of us still get to feel a little special to have and wear something pretty and glittery like that." Karkat lays it all on thick, to even making his voice soft to calling the troll 'Mister' like that's all his bumpkin ass can think of to call him.

He can feel where his eyes are and he's even moved closer, looming over Karkat (it's not a threat-looming at least, but still more of a gross-looming); Karkat should have decked him from the first few words out of his mouth. Wonders if he should be worried that the guy heard about his wedding, but it's not like he knows who Karkat is, or that Karkat was the one getting married, seeming more interested in Marvus, making Karkat think.

"Say, Mister, you're talking about the Marvus, aren'tcha?" Karkat looks as pitifully interested as he can, beginning to fidget in a way he's seen a couple of ditzier trolls do, the movement making the curve of his hips stand out.

"I always hear about his concerts, but I've never been able to go and listen in person. 'S why I'm selling off my gems, so I can go to one!" That's only half-true, but this troll doesn't need to know that.

Even if it's just the one gem he's looking at he just needs to buy it.

"This one is one of my biggest and it's got...a flat round-cut," Karkat can tell somewhat by looking without an eyepiece, but for the most part he's right, which is what's important if the troll wants to prove that it is or isn't, "It'll catch every bit of moonlight, make it glimmer and glow. Might make your friend's smile glow too. It's mined and cut from a pure vein, so I'd price it at a shop at...fifty thousand caegers?" Karkat makes his most pure, innocent, heart-catching look his pretty breeder face can, all saccharrine sugary-scented charm, "But if you're getting it as a gift, I'll give you a discount of half."

 

*

 

Karkat lays it on thick, to the point that Zhen is pretty sure would cross some lines with his mate.

The Navyblood, on the other hand, is absolutely eating it up.

"Oh?" His brows raise, hands slipped into his pockets.

"I wasn't aware he'd be performing anytime soon. The wedding was interrupted, babe. The Prince's mate was stolen. Such a shame. If Indigobloods didn't make such a bad name for themselves, and settled down like you two, they'd be more than welcome in our cities, towns, and villages." He talks like he knows anything, like there isn't an Indigoblood right beside him, and Zhen would stab him if it wouldn't drive away customers.

"Such a shame." Zhen nods, like it matters.

"It makes the rest of us look like vile barbarians, and I want nothing more than to live peacefully with my palemate."

"But you can't get him a ticket to see Marvus?" Zhen bites back a hiss.

"I never said I knew him. Why would I?" She knows why.

The Navyblood doesn't answer, merely shrugging like Zhen would never be able to understand his logic.

"Listen," finally, he eyes the gem, "I don't have anything on Marvus, but I do have two tickets to a lowblood concert. My pretty little Bronzeblood is performing there, so I sadly can't give you both tickets, but I'd love to be an ally for either one of you." This is clearly no longer about gems.

Zhen allows a small smile to grace her features.

"Mister...?"

"Just call me Zebruh. We're all equals here, babe." He answers, gaze flickering hungrily between the two trolls.

"Zebruh, I'm flattered you're offering to help us out. Would you be able to meet later? Maybe... near the end of the night? We'll be able to talk more about who you'll take to this concert, then." She's making sure to keep her stump hidden, now; planning his death is a better use of her thoughts before they rot.

 

*

 

"Oh..," Karkat puts his hand to his cheek as if he's absolutely downcast and put out by the news, "..that's too bad."

He should deck him, running his mouth like that, putting a foul taste in Karkat's mouth and more of that gross, shuddery feeling coming down his spine-- blugh.

This is similar to every interaction he's had with a troll that finds out he's a mutant, has the same feeling. Except worse because it's being directed at Zhen and Karkat can't even do anything because they're trying to get the fucker's money-- even standing being called babe, like this idiot has the right to throw that at either of them-- hearing it makes him want to puke a little.

It starts to look less and less like the troll is going to buy something and Karkat could kick him in the globes, sounding like he's trying to give them a ticket in place of money.
The moment his name leaves his foul mouth, Karkat could boil. It can't be a coincidence that this troll's name is Zebruh, as in Zebruh who Chixie's been talking about occasionally. Karkat has a damn hard time imagining that Chixie would want anything to do with him...then again, if he's the one critiquing her performances, he feels like she's got little choice in the matter.

It gives Karkat a rather protective sense of justice toward her, having to deal with a Navyblood like this.

 

Karkat's jewelry-maker Navy wasn't anything like this, and maybe he's biased on how Navies should act but this ain't it-- and that's not because the jewelry-maker was his soft crush.

Zhen speaks up, to Karkat's surprise, but he can't imagine them having any kind of talk about who's going to the Bronzeblood's concert-- because Karkat is a little late catching on, trying not to look so surprised when he realizes.

"That's so kind of you. If you come by later, we'll have figured out who's going by then," Karkat keeps up the saccharine act, annoyed as he is.

Zebruh grins, that scrutinizing leer never leaving his gaze, "I'm always happy to help out the unfortunate. I'm sure whoever you decide amongst yourselves will be a lovely addition to those attending. Shall I meet you back here?"

All in all, Zebruh doesn't buy a gem, agrees to meet them at his hive at Karkat's suggestion, and Karkat is more than irritated with the meeting and failed sell.

"Well I never. What a disgraceful, lowdown, grease-polished, foul-faced, filth-headed sack of absolute hoofbeast shit." Karkat nearly has motor-mouth with the litany of insults and things he has to say about how horrid meeting that troll went, "--and he didn't even buy anything!! Fucking waste of our time...," his litany dissolves into a ranty grumble, throwing the occasional swear out.

Sourfaced and frowning, Karkat turns toward Zhen, "...I hope you do whatever it is I know you're planning on doing to him. We could probably loot out his hive, can't we?"

 

*

 

"Get used to it." Zhen sighs.

"There's a reason I don't usually go into towns -- okay, a few reasons, but he didn't say anything I haven't heard before." It's also not unusual for trolls to ogle breeders, and Zhen knows how far Xia's gone to conceal her body's nature.

No matter what, biology and instinct seem to win out in the end.

 

They manage to pawn off the remainder of their gems, and Zhen's tougher in haggling for an Olive make-up set for Karkat. They both leave clicking, but she whittled the price down to half -- mostly by her use of threats and violence.

It's proven to work wonders when she has the ability to back it up.

 

City trolls are notoriously soft compared to village trolls, and Indigobloods wouldn't bat an eye at her litany of threats.

With the night growing old, Zhen drops their goods off at the cart. Chixie's waiting there, freshly changed -- she must have gone to her hive -- and promises to watch over their goods.

 

Zebruh's hive is... big.

Zhen can't remember the last time she was in such a place, or even near one; all the surrounding hives are similarly built, the roads paved in smooth stone. No one below Cerulean lives here, she's sure.

"Messiahs know no part of me wants to talk to him again." She murmurs, putting on a false smile, like she's telling something funny to Karkat.

"I'll handle him. You don't need to do anything but sit back and watch the show. I know I want to see his face while he dies." She chitters, coming up to the gated manor.

A skittish lowblood lets them in, and another skittish lowblood answers the door; his Lusus huffs and puffs at them, while Zhen raises her stump to her lips, looking coquettish.

She has to look more appealing than Karkat, and that is a damn challenge.

Even with her demure posturing, the Navyblood still looks at Karkat a little too long for her liking while letting them inside.

"Welcome to my humble hive," he shuts the door, causing trolls on the upper floor to scurry.

"Have you two decided on who'll be my date for the concert?" He asks this like they'd said date at all.

Zhen nods, letting her gaze drift to Karkat before speaking.

"It'd be best for my palemate to go. You seem different from the other highbloods -- I can't quite place it -- and I just know you'll show him a good time."

 

*

 

Luckily after Zebruh leaves, their selling picks up and they've got hella profit from the rest of Karkat's gems, making back Zhen's purse and then some. That at least lifts up the rest of the night.
Zhen is much better at bartering than he can fake-- sure, she's far more intimidating than Karkat but still, it's nice to walk out of the beautification shop with the set he needs at half the price, annoyed with the shopkeeper as they are that they continue to click a decent ways away from the shop.

"City trolls really ain't shit." Karkat snickers once his irritation ebbs away.

They round near a bakery and sweets store, the owners are a Gold and Bronze pair, each respectively stands behind counters on either side of the shop, wares displayed in glass casings and on shelves; the way they banter at each other gives a confusing feeling of being either matesprits or pitchmates.

Both are surprisingly nice for city trolls, being that they aren't city trolls, explaining that they come from a smaller town and managed to get a shop here. They're surprised to figure out that Zhen isn't Navy, but whatever type of way they feel, if they do, they hide it really well and treat her as nice as Karkat.

After assuring them that their samples aren't poisoned and that the honey on their sticky buns is plain honey, Karkat picks out treat bags to fill with chocolates, for the twins and Wanshi, he gets a sticky bun for them and everyone else all wrapped in pastry-paper, accounting that their entire party is staying together for a while longer.

Chixie is at their trolley, Karkat handing her one for herself and one for Marvus when he came back as Zhen lays all their goods inside; Karkat gives her one as well, since they'll be needing whatever energy from the sugar.

 

Like one would expect, a Navy mansion is a big fucking deal. Karkat is, reluctantly, genuinely awestruck-- the place is nice, admittedly, it's like being brought onto the palace grounds again, except on a smaller scale; some trolls seriously live like this??

Karkat schools his face, eyeing the other nervous trolls around the manor as they're let in.

'Helping the unfortunate', huh. Yeah fucking right.

It falls to him, being that Zebruh can't seem to stop himself from staring at Karkat (talk about undressing someone with their eyes-- or worse, eye-banging. Karkat can barely stand it with Gamzee doing that and his mate has the right, and this asshole has the audacious globes to look at him in such a way, just to set this all up for Zhen as she puts it that Karkat is the one going on this date -- Karkat wants to puke even more when the word leaves his mouth.

 

This is a tactical Bait & Switch.

 

Karkat shuffles a little, wondering if Zhen wanted to get him inside the hive or out, but with Zebruh's attention on him, it's easy to get his back to turn to Zhen. "We figured you're pretty decent for doing such a nice thing. And I'm the one who wants to go." He bets it'd be easy even to lead him down some dark alley.

 

*

 

It isn't the most concise things to do, but Zhen's never met a clown who operates under plans and freaks out the moment things go awry. They're usually the cause of things going awry -- like the royal wedding Zebruh is all-too happy to mention.

Zhen is all-too happy to walk up behind the highblood, and kick in the back of his knee.

He grunts, legs bending; she pulls out her pick and promptly sinks it deep into his side, netting her a hiss.

Zebruh twists away from her, and she rips her ice pick from his side; she's gotten the organ she was after, his blood seeping darkly into his clothes.

"You bitch!" He shouts, clutching his side.

Rather than respond, Zhen tries for another stab -- and the Navyblood grips her by the hair. She sinks her pick through his muscular forearm, before she's promptly tossed further into the hive.

His Lusus is less than pleased, and Zhen's on her feet in a flash, barely missing powerful hooves.

"Karkat, outside!" She shouts, finally knocked down -- only for her world to fizzle out.

Zebruh's Lusus misses her head with a stomp, but he catches her horn; it cracks at the base, and her entire small body shudders violently. She doesn't even scream, silently writhing.

 

The Navyblood huffs, gaze turned to Karkat.

He's about to say something when his Lusus screams; Zhen's up and stabbing mechanically, aiming for the vitals until the creature is down on its side.

Next, her rage-reddened eyes lock onto Zebruh, and she takes every two steps for every one the Navyblood takes.

Pillows and chairs are thrown to the ground, small statuettes flung at her; she climbs over everything, batting away the objects thrown at her with her useless arm.

"Make her stop! Make your crazy fucking palemate stop!" Zebruh shouts over the dying noise of his Lusus, the pick promptly, firmly embedded into his shoulder as Zhen finally catches up to him.
She's nothing if not determined.

 

*

 

Karkat does not go outside. He's more concerned with Zhen, now on the ground and even more so after hearing that crack.

Zebruh looks back to him, about to make some cocky smart-ass remark no doubt, Karkat snarling as his eyes dart back and forth between him and where Zhen lay.

Zhen, who is up without Karkat seeing her, already stabbing at the Lusus until it falls to the floor in a bloody mess, braying pathetically. Even more reason to be concerned is the rage-red in her sclera, eyes wide and unblinking as she fixates on Zebruh, Karkat eyeing that big crack at one of her horns.

She bats away anything and everything he throws at her, moving swiftly parallel to the Navyblood's staggered stumble; she's at him in moments, Zebruh screaming at Karkat to make her stop.

Hah. Even Karkat's not sure if he can. Good fucking luck pal.

What Karkat can do is not just stand there uselessly, scurrying over to one of the figurines Zebruh had thrown, take the marble base from a broken one and bring it over; a horn for a horn.

It's too heavy to lift higher than his shoulders, but the weight bears down the same when he lets it clack against a horn, and a little bit of the Navy's head. Karkat repeats the action, but slowly, being careful of Zhen's strikes and not letting Zebruh get ahold of him.

"You lowblooded filth and your disgusting fucking carnie--"

Karkat smashes the base into his horn again on the derogative term, satisfied that even with his weak self he can do this much. "You should have just-- kept your bitch mouth shut-- and bought a fucking gem!" The base strikes again and a nice big crack forms on impact.

 

*

 

Zebruh lashes out at Karkat, keeping the Oliveblood away while pulling the Purpleblood closer -- by the horn, that is.

Maybe it's just one last defiant, hateful act, but Zebruh makes sure to break Zhen's horn. He gets the pick shoved up through his jaw for his efforts, dropping the length of impressive chitin as pain spasms through his body.

Zhen continues to stab at him, even when he's on the ground -- even when there's nothing left of his face -- until her arm hurts, and it's hard to breathe.

The Purpleblood's eyes roll, her lids fluttering.

She manages to cling to consciousness while her mind returns, even if reality is unpleasant.

"Xi -- Karkat, are you okay?" The Purpleblood croaks, habitually trying to feel for her missing horn with her missing hand; she tries to pass the movement off as brushing down her hair, but, aside from a few spatters of Navy, she looks fine.

Well, besides the jagged stump where her left horn used to be.

The pain reminds her of those nights spent with all of those adults, her fingers being bent back until the joint cracked and snapped. Sometimes, she'd black out for a day, or a night or two; Xia kept track of the time by the number of her broken fingers.

Then, one night, her hand was gone.

It should be a big event, something she should cry over, but, even looking at her own smashed horn, she just feels The Mirthful Messiahs' palms closing around her. Hears the Dark Carnival in her ears.

Maybe it's the head trauma.

Zhen's gaze rolls over to Karkat, her eyes glossy and wide.

"Does he have anything good to steal? He'd better. I just lost a horn for this. They don't grow back -- " She breaks off into giggles, each exhale hurting her head.

"I expect that kind of dirty fighting from a clown. You know, those adults -- the ones that caught Xia -- were going to take off my other hand. I heard them considering what to do -- how to play with me -- because it's not every night you get another believer to maim. There was talk of breaking my ankles, taking out my eyes, stabbing sticks into my aural canals until my entire world was nothing but spinning; they even contemplated sawing off my horns. Rape never came up. Not in regards to me, anyway. It's a small mercy. No one even mentioned cutting off my bulge." She chitters, rambling, letting her pan drip from her ears.

It's better than anything dripping from her eyes, and she thinks she's handling the pain better than most trolls.

 

*

 

As Zebruh is stabbed up through the jaw, Karkat whacks the side of his head, enraged as Zhen's horn comes away in his hand.

She strikes and strikes until the Navy's face is just about obliterated with holes and blood, finally stopping when there's a wheeze to her breath; and just as petty vengeance when she stops, Karkat throws the marble base down on his head, the horn he cracked snapping off.

 

"I'm fine, I'm fine! You are not," Karkat crouches on the ground, pulling her upper half over his knees, worrying over the jagged stump; the core is exposed and a translucent purple fluid tries to ooze from it. Zhen is still orange in the eyes, but it must be the exhaustion and trauma that stops her from raging anymore. He doesn't miss that she almost calls him Xia.

"I'll look in a sec-- hey!!" Karkat shouts toward the upper floor, "I know some of you fucks are still here!! Bring me some goddamn med-supplies!!!"

By some strange miracle one of them shakily hands him a kit and Karkat snatches a kit from the skittish troll that managed to come down, too concerned with Zhen to worry about them, rifling through the box to find an anti-septic and something to heal over the exposed core. It's not the first time he's seen a broken horn-- seen Kanaya tending to someone at least.

The core of the horn is even more sensitive than the rest of the chitin, so Karkat tries to be as gentle as possible while securing a bandage to keep the ointment in. Wanting to cry-- for her, that she'd gone through such horrible shit already and he had the choice of stopping her from doing this, so maybe it's his fault for encouraging this plan; Xia just might throttle him.

Zhen rambles and there's a small shiver in her voice that makes him worry, cradling her head and gently shushing her to take slower breaths. Turns to bark orders at the remaining trolls in the hive, "Don't none of you touch her, or you'll end up like that," he gestures his head toward the heap of Navy.

 

Once he's sure that Zhen is breathing more calmly, more stable in spite of the occasional giggle that suggests her pan trying to slip, Karkat grabs one of the cushions that had been thrown, wedging it under her head, ".....and you'd better still be breathing.."

Karkat drags himself up and away, "I'll be fast," thinking for all of a moment before turning to one of the Burgundies-- there's at least ten trolls who were probably stuck here, and none of them are above Olive (the two Golds don't seem to have psionics, or their powers are just fairly weak..that can be said for anyone else who's got psionics here). "Take me up where he keeps his stuff-- like money or caeger notes, and documents," Navybloods seemed more likely to keep banknotes than actual coin, which would be harder to cash in but it's doable, and as for the documents, Karkat wants to find something based off of what Chixie said-- plus the deed to the hive, something else he could keep or sell to Vriska.

"Try anything stupid and I'll gut any of you," Karkat snarls-- internally surprised at how easy it is to say stuff like that, act like he's all big and bad.

 

*

 

Half of her head aches, the sensation running down her neck and into her chest; it's like the agony of that single moment where her hand was being sliced off has been elongated, and the relief that came afterwards is nowhere to be found.

Whatever Karkat does to her head, at the very least, doesn't make it worse.

For a moment, she'd thought Karkat would grab a knife and start digging for the root of her horn.
She lies back as instructed, arms folded carefully over her body.

"Take your time. I'm not dying. It just... hurts ." Even her stump throbs, and Zhen hasn't felt much from the nerve-deadened joint for a few nights.

None of the lowbloods want to get in the way of anyone, highblooded or otherwise.

The few who have access to Zebruh's personal goods show Karkat to his study, where banknotes and various deeds can be found; his silver has been polished to a shine and put away in the kitchen; there's a pouch of caegers in a pair of boots by the back doorway. There's enough to take to make the trip worth it.

At one point, Zhen sits up, keeping an eye on Karkat. Then, she gets to her feet, blinking hard until the world comes into focus.

"We need to go back." She mutters, nerves buzzing; she jumps at every other sound, ears twitching.

"There's... the others... and my pan -- no one said losing a horn felt like this. Stupid motherfucker. I can't think right, Karkat, we need to get back to Marvus." Marvus can protect Karkat -- and she's sure Gamzee will give her shit for letting his mate get so close to violence, but the important thing is that Karkat's fine.

"Do you need me to carry anything?"

 

*

 

They went through all of this just to loot this motherfucker, Karkat damn well is going to take everything they can.

 

The office is as neat as one would think it would be, and Karkat goes through every single drawer-- and of course the important documents are easy to find, it's neatly labeled in a paper file too. After a quick flip through, Karkat plucks out the deed to the hive, as well as a certificate proving ownership of a club, putting them at the front and tucking the file away in his bag, he'll go through it all later; deeds to properties and stuff sell for a lot.

He takes even the majority of the banknotes-- they each are supposed to vouch for ten thousand caegers each (of course they do, this guy was loaded). Karkat doesn't take all of them, only because he's coming down from his...murder-high, that he's beginning to feel bad (if the sacrifices they kill act at all like Zebruh, Karkat wouldn't have any qualms with them dying), and a pouch of coin that one of the serving trolls bring him from the backway.

Most of the shiny things that look like they'll sell big gets put into a sack, silvers and statuettes that won't break, other pieces of jewelry and things, anything to make their time (and Zhen's injury) worth it.

 

"Alright," Karkat is pretty sure they've got the big things, only stopping again to go through Zebruh's pockets, lifting his identification and a fancy timepiece with a sign. Stopping again and going back to the corpse to lift up the statue base and let it drop down on the remaining horn out of sheer spite, his attention turning to the other trolls in the hive, "Get rid of that," Karkat nods to the corpses, "however you feel like. Eat whatever's here and fix yourselves up."

Karkat moves toward Zhen, helping her up and having her lean against him, looking jittery and like she might tip over if she doesn't move carefully. He takes the fancy medkit with all it's big science medicines and tools with them too, putting that in Zhen's good hand and hefting the sack to his side, trying not to let it drag on the ground, his bag secured on his shoulders.

They finally leave the manor, though coming outside it looks like no one is really nosy enough to have come check on their neighbor, which works out for them in any case, walking back to the central part of the city, where Marvus and Chixie should be by the trolley.

 

*

 

Zhen tries to walk on her own once they're outside, at the very least keeping her head up and giving any troll that looks at them for too long an ugly grimace.

Back at the cart, Chixie nearly jumps out of her skin.

"What happened?!" She frets, immediately noting the pallour turning Zhen's grey skin to a sicklier lavender.

"Damn shame, those horns were fine." Marvus is much more relaxed about it, helping Zhen into the back of the loaded cart.

Two trolls -- both Burgundy, if their clothing is to be believed -- sit in the back of the trolley. For once, the lowbloods outnumber the highbloods.

The female Burgundyblood, clad in an old blouse and skirt, startles at Zhen's arrival. The male Burgundyblood, much more squat and unkempt than his counterpart, doesn't seem particularly concerned; he openly looking from beneath his messy fringe of hair.

"So, uh, is she gonna, like, die or something?" He has a slight lisp, and talks just a bit too loudly.

Marvus pockets his injured hand, cane in the other.

"Who? Zhen? Nah, she a toughie lil' trooper. 'Sides, it's the Jades who got that lowdown on oblong meat products, my good Die-man." He helps Karkat into the back of the trolley, alongside, Chixie.

Marvus seems entirely certain everything will work out alright -- and, even if it doesn't, he's not known to get particularly worked up over it.

 

The cart lurches once, and then they're off.

Chixie doesn't quiet know what to do, Zhen is just trying to keep her head from lolling or bobbing. Any movement makes her wince.

With that option closed to her, she turns to Karkat.

"Are you okay? What happened? Um -- w-well, Marvus and I met some fans! Or, well..." Chixie trails off, but the stout Burgundyblood is more than happy to introduce himself.

"I'm Diemen. I wouldn't say I'm a fan of Marvus, but I appreciate his art. Besides, he introduced me to Darava. I've never seen someone able to juggle seven bunned delights while maintaining their delicacy." He almost holds out a hand for introduction, but then decides against it.

"Nothing against you, but handshakes are a little much for a first meeting."

The female Burgundyblood, short-haired and wide-eyed, tries for a smile.

"I'm Vianya." Her voice is high like Chixie's, but wobbly with nerves.

"Chixie told me all about performing for a cloister of Jadebloods and Purplebloods. It sounds like something out of a fairytale. I always thought Purplebloods kept to themselves and, um... culled lowbloods." She peeks over a bag of grain, eyeing Zhen's pained figure.

"Is she going to be okay?"

 

*

 

There's some relief that the rest of the group is there-- along with extras?? --, Karkat more than glad to see some familiar faces. Setting down the things they made off with, taking the medkit from Zhen and helping her lay back, Karkat sticks close to her as he curiously-- ...suspiciously, warily --eyes their new additions.

Zhen settles herself as much as possible in a position that she isn't jostled or moved by the cart just going along the road

Chixie explains that they're fans, who introduce themselves, the male as Diemen and the female as Vianya.

Karkat nods, looking them over, an inkling in his head-- so these two, huh? If that's the case, he hopes they die quickly, painless they both seem pretty decent, "Karkat. This is Zhen." Karkat gestures with his head, thinking over Vianya's question, "..we'll be better once we get back to the cloister."

Karkat feels his hands twitch every so often, holding himself from trying to pet over Zhen's head, around her hornbeds; she'd probably appreciate it more from Xia-- never mind allow it. What he can do for then is subtly scoot himself so that he's sitting between her and these two new trolls, his body just slightly nudged up against hers.

"We...," Karkat isn't sure exactly how much he should divulge about what happened-- isn't sure if Marvus is a tattletale who'll blurt out whatever without Karkat having a chance to say something first to Gamzee. Isn't sure if Zhen wants him to say anything either, and on that note, he'd rather keep her out of trouble, she's already hurt.

That and he's not sure what to tell Chixie yet, if it was even the right troll-- Zebruh Coddak could be a common name for all Karkat knows.

Can't even think of how he's going to tell Xia.

"... got into it with some troll. He wouldn't buy a gem."

It's still the truth, even if not the whole thing and pretty much vague.

 

*

 

"A highblood?" Her brows raise -- she's not stupid, knows Karkat's hiding something from her, but he must have a good reason for it.

Whatever the reason, she doesn't push it.

 

Diemen doesn't seem much for talking when not prompted, instead taking in the scenery. Vianya, on the other hand, chats quietly with Chixie. She's a fellow performer, just as cautious; they discuss a culling that occurred a few nights back, and Vianya says they're already clearing away the rubble and bodies.

They don't seem close, but they aren't strangers, either.

Marvus keeps to himself, busy hauling the cart.

 

When the caverns come into view, Chixie and Vianya hop off.

"Do you need help moving her, Karkat?" Chixie offers, although she's not practised in medicine. Karkat doesn't seem to be, either, but he's obviously protective over the injured Purpleblood.

Marvus meanders to the back of the cart, glancing down to Zhen.

"Leave that lil' baddie to me. Phat Kat, mind takin' Die-man over to our 'van?" He gestures to the merchant caravan.

"Should find some preserved cylindrical grubmeat in there. Might be some beastmeat, too. Can't be picky, right, Die-man?" He chuckles, hefting up Zhen as if she were a pupa; she groans quietly, still pale.

Chixie and Vianya are called to help with unloading the supplies, both lowbloods carrying what they can.

Diemen looks at Karkat -- supposedly so. His mess of hair falls over his eyes in such a way as to obscure them almost entirely.

"You know, there's something to be said for the nomadic lifestyle. Clowns have caravans, I have bushes. Yeah, the highbloods set fire to a lowblood slum a few perigees back, and I've been unchained ever since. It's easier to think of it that way, and I'm not technically lying when I say I have a home. That shrub over there," he gestures, "could be my next home. Who knows?" He stops, chirring in thought.

"Might be difficult to acquire my precious delicacies outside of the city, though."

 

*

 

Nodding toward Chixie-- she's mostly right anyway, they did have a problem with a highblood --, Karkat worries his lip, wondering how best to bring it up, if he should at all; probably be best to do so in private if he does. Like way later.

Wonders if she'll freak out, or be upset with him.

Wonders how upset Gamzee might be, and if Karkat's going to have to play blockade in case he plans on directing his upset at Zhen.

Xia for damn sure is likely going to be upset with him; he deserves more than a slap.

For the rest of the ride, it's mostly quiet, save for the gentle chatter of Chixie and the Burgundy girl. Diemen forgoes speaking in favor of watching the land from the cart. Karkat for once isn't as talkative as he'd been, his mind too preoccupied.

 

They can see the caverns and everyone begins loading off once they round the entrance, Karkat looking up at Chixie when she offers to help move Zhen; Marvus interjects though, picking up the smaller Indigoblood before anyone can really have a say, asking Karkat to take Diemen while Vianya and Chixie work on unloading stuff.

Diemen seems like an easy-going troll (earns a streak of Karkat's pity for sure, hearing that the area his hive was had been burned down), not really much for conversation...unless, Karkat hazards, it's about meat of some kind. Otherwise he seems a friendly, if physically reserved troll.

"That's horrible, that your hive area got burned down. You've been sleeping in bushes and shrubbery ever since?"

Well, something must be working, being that he lasted up until now (literally).

 

Karkat hadn't realized that this whole time he's been lifted up into the caravan, but since no one's doing that for him, he doesn't know how to get up into the damn thing.

"Well, I hope," Karkat grunts, trying to find somewhere to step up that doesn't have him doing splits on the caravan, "that what we've got is close. Marvus's right," Okay, that way is obviously not working, and Karkat can't lay on his front without worrying about his grub, resorting to what he used to do as a pupa whenever someone built up a temporary wooden stage for festivals and other fun events; putting his back to the edge of caravan, both arms behind him, and hoisting himself up with a huff, a chirp proving evidently how surprised he is that it worked, "..you really can't be picky in this kind of lifestyle."

Notes:

Thankfully i've been able to set up some few chapters in advance, so if i can just keep on it, i shouldn't be going so long without putting the next parts up. Of course, that's not including interfering issues that will happen regardless. In case it wasn't clear that I'm so bothered that I'm going back and forth through the stages of grief.

Acknowledgement is supposed to be the first step to healing, and funnily enough I have yet to feel that way. Already sitting at 2/10 HP, just to fall back down to .5. Gain just a little bit of health back, just to lose it all over again, isn't it tedious and tiresome?

This will likely not be the last time I come to this last stage, nor will it be the last that I regress back to step 1. Trapped stumbling in an endless circle, unable to find the way out. And the way out I want is never the next step I can take. The result I want is never in sight.

But, I started, so I must finish. Even if the end of it all is fruitless, I don't know that until I get there. So, I have to keep going.

I wish that you, my friend, are also continuing to go on.
Please be well.

Chapter 28: Veheme

Notes:

If you know, you know. Poor Diemen, rip.

As much as you and I put our souls into fucking things up for everybody, I know we put just as much into these warmer moments.

That's the thing, too. When I make my prompts, I put my whole heart into them, a piece of myself engraved among the words. And even though I make them versatile for smut vs plot, I feel that you recognized that more out of anyone else, you could feel it the most. Or that's what I'd like to believe, anyway. Ours was a chance, fateful encounter, so I'm feeling worse over the sudden parting.

Even so, that it hurts so much, every passing day, might it not mean that my belief is so adamant? That you might come back?

"I'm so glad someone gets it." The way Karkat struggles to get up into the caravan is endearing, even if it does remind Diemen of his own short stature.

"Sure, I'm sad I lost my Lusus and all my belongings, but I'm not gonna lie down and die. I don't think I would've run off to any quadrants, if I had any. It's a dangerous world -- but, like this, I don't have to worry about being culled for living in a slum." He approaches the back of the caravan, and uses his arms to lift himself up, feet scrabbling for purchase -- a firm hand on his behind has him toppling into the caravan with a chirp.

Gamzee hops in behind him, face painted, a lazy smile on his features.

"Sup?"

Diemen should be much more freaked out at the appearance of a highblood -- a highblood carrying a juggling pin of all things -- but they both size each other up, Gamzee offering the Burgundyblood a hand to get him to his feet.
"Nothing much. Just on the prowl for my next meal. Marvus told me you had some savoury preserved links in here." He glances around, noting the distinct lack of sausages, hot dogs, or anything relating to said items.

Gamzee slips his foot under a rug, and flips it to reveal the floor compartment Karkat had brought to his attention earlier.
He gestures to it.

"In there, motherfucker." Diemen keeps himself from beaming, but he's obviously excited.

Gamzee steps aside, gesturing for him to open the door. He has no desire to know why this troll has such a fixation on oblong meat products -- or why he believes they have any. He supposes there isn't anything saying they don't peddle meat products, but the idea still comes off as odd to him.

Diemen opens the trap door, Gamzee behind him, club raised high; the Burgundyblood hardly gets out a 'huh' before he's thwacked in the back of the head, and kicked into the compartment.

The door slams shut, a smear of Burgundy now accenting his club.

"There we motherfucking go!" Gamzee trills, hopping out of the back.

"I got a gander on at the other one. Might be a tight fit, seeing that she got herself some height, but we'll make it work." He opens his arms to Karkat, ready to take him down.

"You was awful cute trying to get up into the 'van on your lonesome."

 

*

 

Aw heck, the more Karkat listens to him, the more he feels like crying, if only because this guy has had it pretty rough, losing his hive and Lusus in such a way.

Well, he's right somewhat, he's not going to be culled for living in a slum (he's getting culled for a completely different reason).

Karkat shouldn't be as surprised as he is to see Gamzee pop out of nowhere the way he does, giving Diemen a, supposedly, helpful push up into the caravan, greeting him on impulse with a chirr.

His mate has his face painted, looking fairly relaxed while Karkat gets a sinking feeling that isn't for himself.

 

When Gamzee makes a gesture to the trunkspace, Karkat already knows what's going to happen.

Karkat pities that hopeful, excited look Diemen has to him, it's almost pupa-like, opening up the trapdoor while his mate raises his club. Quickly turning so he doesn't have to see-- even though he hears it, flinches at the sound --Diemen getting whacked, eyes scrunched for the moment. He supposes he doesn't feel as bad, being that he was part of killing a highblood just hours earlier, but he still feels a little awful, if at least for not warning the poor guy.

Peering through his lashes once he hears the trapdoor close, Karkat watches Gamzee hop out of the caravan, looking pretty pleased and talking about the other Burgundy like this was a completely, totally normal thing to talk about. Karkat takes a long exhale and settles his face, "Of course it looked cute to you, you're not the one who has to deal with being short like this."

Still, he can't quite take his mind off of Diemen, ".....poor guy....he'd told me about all the stuff he's been through, but how he still had the determination to live on..."

 

*

 

Gamzee hums, arms wrapping around Karkat, hefting him safely to the ground.
He pats Karkat's cheeks, smoothing back his hair.

"I know. Let your pusher hurt for him -- but he'll be in a better place. Even the trolls sacrificed under our care go to a better place than the heathens. The Mirthful Messiahs care for us all, in their capricious ways." It'd be cruel of him to tell Karkat to harden his heart -- and part of what he adores so much about his mate is his puny, bleeding heart.

A shriek from the caverns catches his attention, and he pulls Karkat flush on instinct.

 

When nothing more comes of it, he expects to see Marvus with a lolling, half-dead Burgundyblood. He doesn't expect to see Xia, the Limeblood cooly composed in spite of her scream.

Polypa, predictably, comes out after her.

"What happened to Zhen?" Her eyes are thin and narrow, words sharp.

Gamzee gets between them, clicking quietly. He won't hurt Xia -- The Grand Highblood would have his head and The Mirthful Messiahs would watch him writhe for eternity -- but he doesn't want Xia to hurt Karkat, either.

 

The Limeblood eyes him.

"Out of my way. I need to speak to Karkat." She demands, like she's more than a lowblood.

"Nah, I'm fine here, Sister. My mate's aural canals ain't damaged. Chat away." He smiles, noticing that Polypa tenses, arms crossed.

"Lucky for your mate -- Zhen's short a horn. Neither Marvus nor Chixie know anything about it. Chixie doesn't even know that Burgundyblood she's come back with is nothing more than a sac of blood to you." Xia cocks a hip, evidently ready to stand here until the Sun rises and roasts them.

"You can't be saying my mate took Sister Zhen's horn off. He's gotta wiggle himself all kinds of ways to even get in a motherfucking 'van." He gestures to the caravan containing Diemen.

"I'm saying Karkat knows something, maybe caused something. I just want to talk. If you don't move aside, I'll make you." It's less the explicit threat and more the implication that she'd probably exhaust herself trying to make Gamzee budge, possibly miscarry, that has the highblood chirring, stepping aside.

Surprisingly, Xia doesn't slap Karkat. She doesn't raise her hands whatsoever. That sour look stays on her face, but she's not attacking his mate.

"So?" She steps closer, crossing her arms over her stomach.

"Tell me what happened, Karkat."

 

*

 

Karkat also is expecting someone to come out with someone else bloodied and mangled.

He feels even worse when it's Xia coming toward them in a brisk, beeline.

She's only asked what happened and already Karkat feels like her words are darts and he's the board she's aiming at.

Xia's coolness is frightening, and while it's not exactly the raging anger he was expecting, this fuming, calculating, weighted anger is more than enough to have Karkat guilty and hunching in-- like he's being lectured. Talks and demands at Gamzee like he isn't higher than her-- like she's higher than him because she's The Grand Highblood's mate and he'd better fold and give in while he can.

 

When Gamzee moves aside, Karkat is expecting a slap. When there isn't one-- and Karkat wouldn't have minded if she did, he feels like he deserves it, for not having the mind to stop Zhen instead of encouraging her, not protecting her from doing something that'd have this as the outcome --, he stands rigidly while bright narrowed eyes bore into him.

Xia asks him again straight on, determined to get an answer whereas Karkat's reluctant to give one, hands nervously fisting in his tunic.

"....We got into it with a Navy-- no, that's only half the truth..," if there's anything to gain from this, Xia's going to be one hell of a parent troll, if she can stand to give that same look to her grubs for possible reprimanding.

 

He takes a deep breath to try and start at the beginning. Fidgeting with his fingers as he speaks, telling Xia how the incident started with Karkat wanting to make up some extra money after spending a bit, that they'd had some good luck peddling out gemstones and making back what they lost. How that Navyblood had been downright disgusting toward the both of them, led them around buying a piece just to try and put up a front while trying to get either both or one of them alone. Tells that Zhen had turned that on him instead, where they'd get that gross troll alone (servants aside) somewhere so they could stick him. How he'd put up a fight and tore off her horn before they finally got him to quit moving.

"I should have stopped her. I wasn't thinking straight," Karkat who thrives on common sense had forgone that and it's only added another troll to the list of people who are hurt because of him. "After he'd done that to her, I..well, I smashed off both of his...," He knows that doesn't fix Zhen's horn, but Zebruh took hers, so Karkat literally thought and enacted 'a horn for a horn'.

"I did what I could so that the core wouldn't get infected, not that it makes it better..," what might make it better is if either Xia or Zhen had any hope for Zhen reaching her pupation, at least physically, not that it'd change how they're feeling (even then, it's a fifty-fifty chance if it'd regenerate her horn, her missing hand-- they can't even hope for her pupation to dial back the panrot, nevermind eliminate it completely). 

But, that still doesn't undo the damage and pain that's happened.

 

*

 

Looking at the two of them, the taller Limeblood and the shorter mutant -- made only smaller by the way he postures -- it'd be difficult to say they're the same age. Xia has the cool anger of a much older troll, and Karkat looks like a wriggler readying itself for a lecture or reprimand.

"So," Xia starts, composed, "you had all night to think this through, and you never figured it might be pertintent to fucking stop her? Was it so important to fuck with some entitled Navyblood? Then, why didn't you encourage her to go on a rampage and cull every Navyblood in the city? I've certainly never met a single Navyblood that doesn't have some part of their pan shoved right up their own waste chute -- and they're going to think it's cute, a dumb Oliveblood and a dumber clown trying to peddle their wares. Once you leave your village, Karkat, that's how it is. You're not respectable. No one cares if you're more educated than most lowbloods. No one gives a shit that I can run as fast as a Cerulean, or that I could kick a lowblood's head off their fucking shoulders. There's always going to be some bigger, stronger, meaner bastard ready to take whatever you have to give -- I'm The Grand Highblood's mate, the meanest bastard around, and look at where I am." She gestures around her, to the caravans and the cavern openings.

"Zhen already lost a hand for me. Her reward? She gets to lose a horn for you. I'm not counting on her to pupate, Messiahs know if her body will even allow her to pupate; I just want the remainder of her life to be peaceful. She deserves it." Her arms recross, and Gamzee finally feels like he can penetrate the bubble of ire surrounding the two breeders.

Xia's gaze snaps to him when he does, but she doesn't threaten him again.

His cool hand is laid between Karkat's shoulders, trying to soothe him.

"Karkat ain't used to all these different ways of life. You saw his village, didn't you? He ain't used to being talked down like that." Gamzee offers up a defence, and Xia clicks.

"That's why I'm trying to tell him to get used to it. He'd be dead on the ground with grief if the same happened to Karako or those pupae. Sometimes, you have to eat hoofbeast shit for the greater safety of everyone else." Her gaze flickers between Gamzee and Karkat; the former looming protectively over the latter, chirring quietly.

"I need to stay by Zhen," her arms unfold, resting at her sides, "if you need me, I'll be up in the nursery." She leaves, Polypa following behind her.

Gamzee expected much more hatred from her, more rage and indignation, but it really sounded like she was scolding a wriggler who ought to know better.

"Mate of mine," he coos softly, "it'll be okay. Messiahs know -- Xia knows -- you don't got no malice in your pusher."

 

*

 

He'd like nothing more than to curl into himself and sink right there in the ground, Karkat feeling smaller and smaller as Xia starts into him. Karkat tries not to cry, does his absolute best to hold it in-- he's got no good reason to cry, he's not the one who lost a horn, and Xia might really be upset if he did anyway.

Karkat takes every word without saying anything, his chance to say anything was to stop Zhen from going through with it at all, so he's silent while taking Xia's verbal lashing-- she may as well hit him, at least striking him wouldn't pierce so deep.

And it only does because she's right.

He should have known better, should have really thought it through without letting how he felt overtake him, egging Zhen on as if Karkat had even been of any real support, he couldn't even stop Zebruh from taking her horn even while Karkat was bashing in his head.

Even Zebruh being dead doesn't make any of it better, no matter how much he deserved it ten times over.

Karkat's glad he thought to leave out anything to do with Chixie, he's not even sure if it's the same guy anyway, and he wouldn't want Xia to come down on her when she wasn't even involved.

Xia leaves when she's finished, saying she's going to be by Zhen in the nursery-- Karkat wants to do that too, but he already knows that he's more or less unwelcome while Xia is there. Gamzee tries at being soothing, which does work, easing how rigid Karkat had made himself stand; he's still trying not to cry, but there's a hitch when he speaks.

"No, we-- I had some malice for that Navy, and I knew what she was thinking of doing and I didn't stop her. I didn't think about her getting hurt-- I was more concerned about feeling justified, and now...," Karkat laughs bitterly, falsely, at the end but his throat decides then to close up and stopper anything else from getting through.

 

*

 

Gamzee coos, pulling Karkat toward him.

"Don't be harsh on yourself, Karkat. You can't be blaming yourself on every lil' thing. Maybe neither of you had your pans on right, but that's just how we live. I'm sure Zhen knew, in some way, it'd be a risk to her own self." He squeezes his mate close, pressing Karkat's cheek to his chest.

It doesn't take Chahut long to hover at the cavern entrance -- and, ruffling past her robe, Baizli comes running, chirping.
"Karkat!" He barrels into the mutant, small hands grabbing fistfuls of cheap Olive fabric.

"Karkat, are you okay?" He buries his face into Karkat's side.

"Karkat's fine." Gamzee chirrs, watching Chahut make her way over to them.
She looks slightly ill, hiding it beneath her usual stoicism.

"How is the Little One? Any injuries? Stresses?" Zhen's appearance has, obviously, shaken the other Purplebloods.
Gamzee nods, petting his mate.

"Just shaken, ain't you?"

 

*

 

Not being harsh on himself is easier said than done, but Karkat nuzzles into Gamzee's chest anyway for the comfort the action offers. He shouldn't have enabled her either way, no matter how much he wanted to get back at Zebruh for being a slimy, greasy prick; Xia was only right on all accounts, Karkat should have known better.

 

Lifting his head to the chirp-- Baizli --to see one of the twins come running their way, Chahut also by the entrance.

Baizli more or less crashes into Karkat's side, could have Karkat melting if he wasn't already globes deep in self-guilt by the way he burrows into him. Karkat brings his arm without a thought to smooth down Baizli's back, reassuring him with Gamzee, "I'm fine, I'm okay." He's not the one who's hurt.

Chahut follows-- she still looks like she might be sick, combined with her worry she seems even more so, and Karkat doesn't like the look on her; he doesn't need to be worried over, her and Zhen do.

Karkat gives a noncommittal shake of his head, "I'm alright, I'm not hurt."

Looking down at Baizli, Karkat hadn't even noticed his shirt has flecks and streaks of stray Navy, some smeared on his hands.

He wants to change, or at least wash up some; knowing that it's that foul-headed asshole's Navy on him is starting to make him feel sick too.

Rubbing warmly down Baizli's back, Karkat looks back up and tries for a smile. "I'm okay, really. I got sweet rolls for everyone. Should we go in?"

 

*

 

Baizli trills, leaning up on his toes to nuzzle deeper into Karkat -- but at the mention of sweet rolls, he bounces back, an excited grin on his face.

"Sweet rolls!" His grin is infectuous, and he lunges back in for another quick hug before turning.

"Barzum wants hers now! I'll go get her!" He hops off, humming a quiet tune to himself.

Chahut's gaze follows the pupa, then resets itself to Karkat.

"That's awful sweet of you to be makin' purchases on our behalf. Suppose it's only fit my last meal come from your fronds. My last meal before pupation, that is." She lays a heavy, firm hand on Karkat's shoulder, and they all walk into the caverns.

The eldest among them seems preoccupied with the breeders, excusing herself to check on Xia and Zhen.

 

It doesn't take Baizli long to come back with Barzum, her carapace peeling more and more by the night; her eyes are unbandaged, but she holds her twins hand, carrying the skirts of her robe in the other.

"Karkat!" She chirps, able to see more and more with each passing night.

"You brought sweet rolls! Can we have one?"

Gamzee combs his fingers through his mate's hair, trying to offer what little comfort he can.

"You gotta calm it down. Karkat had a real busy night in the city. Y'know he ain't used to such busy nights." He doubts the last thing Karkat needs are two demanding pupae, but... their presence and affection will probably help him calm down.

"Mate of mine, why don't you take the twins to the communal ablution trap and bathe with 'em? After everyone's all clean, they can get their rolls." Gamzee can't think of a better time to calm down, or a better excuse to get the twins with his mate.

 

*

 

From the sound of it, Chahut's pupation must be a lot closer than Karkat initially thought; would it be a problem if she wound up spinning in the caverns?

Either or, someone would need to watch or at least be checking on her every now and then.

"Someone's going to need to check on her cocoon every now and then, keep the outer silk clean. Y'know, so she can eat it." Eating the silk, because the silk for pupation came from a troll's own body, is supposed to help with the pupe-lag, as well as bulk a troll back up; in general, it's beneficial in the long run post-pupation.

Barzum comes hand in hand with Baizli, just as excited for the promise of sweets as her brother and lively even for her skin that's still peeling. Her eyes aren't wrapped in a sopor bandage though Karkat suspects that she might need to cover back up soon; better not to chance it even if she's getting better by each night.

Karkat nods at Gamzee, "Alright," when he looks to the twins, Karkat tries and musters up at least some spunk back to his tone, "You two hear that? Bath first, then you can have a roll, and a treat."
Parting with his mate with a quick kiss and a soft look, Karkat winds up with both pupae on either side of him, having them lead him toward the communal ablutions.

"I got a roll and a treat for Wanshi, too. Let's find her later so we can give them to her, yeah?"

 

*

 

The twins lead Karkat to the communal ablution block, deep within the caverns.
"Wanshi's fun!" Barzum exclaims.

"Even though she's a heretic." Baizli laments, already shifting from beneath his outer robe.

"She lies all the time." Barzum adds, following her brother in undressing.

"She doesn't want to hear anything about The Messiahs." Baizli, nude, toddles over to a pump, and starts the water going.
Barzum's skin is peeling off now in large swathes, much more prevalent on her back then her front; she's clearly been plucking away at the dead flesh.

After dousing herself in the first few spurts of ice-cold water, she takes a seat atop a small stool, and allows her twin to gently peel away her dead skin.

"Bronya says I'm getting a lot better." She turns her head over her shoulder, blinking until Karkat comes into focus.

"It's less painful." Baizli murmurs.

Once he's finished plucking dead skin from his twin, Baizli returns to the pump, working it until it sputters lukewarm water; hot enough to be comfortable for the Jadebloods. Barzum grabs a pail, and fills it with this water, lugging it over to Karkat.
The twins use the cooler water to bathe, taking turns soaking one another.
They chitter in amusement, walking over to Karkat.

"Can you wash our hair?" Barzum asks, able to see -- and smell -- Karkat from this close.

"Someone else usually helps us. They say we don't do a good job." Baizli pouts, although neither of them have ever kicked up a fuss about Chahut, Marvus, or Gamzee cleaning their hair or faces.

"We'll help you wash your hair!" Barzum bursts out, interrupted only when Daraya walks into the block, reeking of salt, fat, and sugar.

"Oh... Am I interrupting anything?" She asks, crossing her arms, more than ready to be sent out and made to wait for her turn to bathe.

 

*

 

Karkat hums and 'ah's as the twins tell him about Wanshi, tugging him along; they like her enough, despite her heresies.

"That so? She must be a lot of fun then. Did either of you teach her to play Slide? Wanshi might be good at it too."

 

The communal bath is set up with stools to wash and rinse up by the pump, while a trap is set into the ground, dug out and smoothed over for someone to sit and soak, some kind of malleable clay plugging the drainage. Though, they'd have to fill it up themselves if they wanted to use that, which Karkat sure as hell isn't going to make the twins do-- he'll do that himself if he feels so inclined.

Both pupae are naked before they're even in the block, Karkat shucking out of his clothes too and folding everyone's stuff neatly; he probably should have thought to get a change of clothes for all of them before undressing, but oh well, he'll put that tunic back on if he has to.

The twins already know how to work the pump, Baizli taking charge of it as the bucket fills for his sister, Barzum dousing herself. Under the dry, dead part of her skin, healthy but almost raw lavender skin can be seen, Karkat almost fretting when both begin picking at the deadened bits front and back, worried until he internally assures himself that they know what they're doing.

"That's good," Karkat says, "You'd better listen to her, do everything she tells you so that you can heal fast, alright?"

Barzum may as well melt him down, bringing him a pail of water. He settles on a stool and scoops it over his body until he can pour the rest over himself, huffing water from his nose and wiping it from his eyes.

Karkat's dousing his own hair when Barzum asks him to do theirs, "C'mere then, sit in front of me. Who's going first?"

He turns straight off when someone walks in, though it's only Daraya and while not completely, despite being naked the day before for everyone's voyeuring pleasure, Karkat relaxes some. "..No, not really. You're fine. Unless you wanted the ablution to yourself?"

 

*

 

Daraya nearly snorts.

“It’s a communal ablution trap. Besides, your mate and Bronya and Lynera would be up every single one of my gashes if they found out I kicked you out.” She shucks off her robes, tossing them aside with haste.

Her first order of business is to fill a pail, crouching over it to scrub her features clean of their heavy make-up. Underneath it all, she looks much more her age; wide eyes and fresh skin. She’s far from pupation.

Barzum settles in front of Karkat, chirping.

Daraya forces the clay plug into the trap, and runs the pump as hot as it’ll go, carrying each bucketful to the trap before dumping it in.

“So,” she begins, Baizli deciding to help her in filling up the trap, “I heard something happened. Are you okay? I know breeders are, just, so — “ she trails off, making a vague gesture.

“They’re great!” Baizli bursts out, dumping another bucket of water into the trap.

“I never said they were bad — dammit, you two are nothing but trouble.” She admonishes the twins, neither of whom care.

“Then, why do you play with us?” That question, posed carefully by Barzum, has Daraya turning a fierce shade of green.

“Because you bother me until I give in.” She spits back, although neither twin believes it, both giggling.

Barzum, eyes squeezed shut, chitters.

“Wanshi, Daraya, and Lanque all play with us. We showed them how to play slide, and Wanshi showed us a game where we all pretend to be wild purrbeasts. We have names and everything.” She whispers, but it’s no help when Baizli pipes up.

“She’s annoyed when we get things wrong, like all the names of the characters, but we’re getting better at it!” With one final bucket, the trap is full of clean, warm water.

Daraya let’s the pump cool, then pours herself a fresh bucket and douses herself. It doesn’t stop the green tinting her cheeks.

“They’re just trying to embarrass me, the brats. Like I’d ever play their stupid wriggler games.”

 

*

 

Barzum takes her turn first, sitting in front of Karkat, ready with a pail of water barely lukewarm, closer to what the twins' prefer than warm enough for Karkat.

He's careful, just in case the dried parts of her skin reach even into her scalp, lightly carding his claws through wet hair. Karkat is gentle but thorough, scrubbing all through Barzum's hair, mindful of her hornbeds and down through the rest to the ends. Her hair, and Karkat imagines Baizli's too, comes down to just around at her shoulders when wet and straightened, no doubt that when they dry off their hair will bounce right back to the napes of their necks.

"I'm fine," Karkat wonders how many times he's going to say that, when he's not really, at least on the inside. He'd brag about the event for sure if it didn't come with the price of Zhen's horn breaking. "If you've seen Zhen, that should explain as much," Karkat sighs, quiet for a few beats, "...I'm sorry, I'm not ready to share all over again about what happened, yet." Not after the verbal beating he took he's not.

The twins teasing Daraya have Karkat fighting and failing to hold his smile back, the Jadeblood without her makeup looking like she's still a ways away from being close to an adult (if age dictated the hierarchy here, Karkat is the oldest amongst those in the block right now he's just barely an adult but Daraya is barely out of being a wriggler herself).

"Mmh, sounds like it's been pretty fun here. You learn how to play Slides?" This he directs to Daraya, turning his attention back to Barzum, both twins giggling at Daraya's expense, getting one out of Karkat. "Anybody any good? Anyone make it higher than me yet?" He is curious, since supposedly Lanque and Daraya now know how to play.

Barzum gets a final rinse off, Karkat scritching between her horns and giving her a kiss on the back of her head, rubbing behind her ears and the back of her neck, marking off one clean pupa, "All done! Baizli, your turn then."

 

*

 

Barzum almost purrs at the sensation, leaning back into Karkat's touch. Her eyes flutter shut, body feeling heavy and limp.

It's all over too soon, Baizli taking Karkat's place with a satisfied trill.

Daraya opens her mouth, Barzum beating her to it.

"Daraya's the best at slides!" She walks over to the trap, dipping a finger in. The water is nice and hot, but she knows it's not for her.

"Lanque's the best at playing with Wanshi. You know, he knows all about Soldier Purrbeasts -- which are the books Wanshi wants us to read." Baizli shuts his eyes, ready for Karkat to bathe him.

His only memories, before ending up in the caravan, are those of sand and the twin moons; tall grass and a large, isolated hive beckoning them. Their shared thoughts of starvation and death.

He imagines this is what it's like to have a Lusus.

"We haven't gotten higher than you, yet." Barzum adds, plopping onto her bare bottom.

"Wanshi isn't very good at slides, but she likes when we talk about everything we've seen outside! It makes her want to go outside, you know? She's never even seen the city." Baizli hums, while Daraya rolls her eyes, pretending she's better than all of this.

She dumps another bucket of water over her head.

"Okay, so I've been entertaining the pupae. It's not like it matters. I'm more concerned with Chahut -- I mean, her whole deal is fucking terrifying, and she makes murder jokes every two seconds -- but she's been looking tired tonight. Even before everything that's happened. She's also been cooking nonstop, and fretting over Xia like the Limeblood's her own grubling. Is there something going on with her?"

 

*

 

"Oh is she?" Karkat hums, beginning on Baizli.

As he thought, his hair comes down the same way, Karkat's hands working the same way he'd done on Barzum's. He's still gentle, even though Baizli doesn't have peeling skin and they've both proven to him that they're strong little things, Karkat still takes care with his nails scraping over Baizli's scalp.

Besides, hearing that Lanque knows all about a wriggler's read gives him something for the next time something starts; maybe Karkat could read the series himself, even if there's a lot in the series, he could probably go through them fairly quickly.

"Maybe you can humor me in a round, Daraya? Takes a lot to know how to entertain pupae."

 

At the mention of Chahut, however, Karkat's eyes widen just a bit before he tries wordlessly communicating with Daraya without the twins seeing-- he doesn't know if Chahut wants the twins to know, or even if she wants Daraya to know for that matter, it's not his information to share. His eyes flick meaningfully at Baizli and Barzum before giving the slightest shake of his head, hoping that it looks like a 'not in front of them, I'll tell you later' kind of look.

Baizli gets the same final rinse and scrub through, all good and cleaned and finished with a kiss also at the back of his head. "There we are, two shiny pupae. Is it my turn now?" Karkat grins, as if the earlier incident isn't bothering him as much anymore, at least while he's not thinking about it.

 

*

 

"Yeah, when they're insistent little pests determined to make you trip over your own robes, it takes a lot to entertain them. They run around like they own the place." Daraya's smart enough to pick up on Karkat's gestures, even as the breeder goes from warning her off the topic to kissing the back of Baizli's head.

It's sickening in a way Bronya would probably approve of.

 

With the twins scrubbed clean and trilling to one another, it's Karkat's turn.

The Jadeblood motions not-so-subtly to the hot bath, grabbing the twins' attention.

They each take one of Karkat's hands, walking him over to the trap.

"I get to wash Karkat's hair." Barzum declares, and, though Baizli chirrs, he doesn't argue.

Once the mutant has sunk into the ablution trap, Barzum gets to work cupping water in her hands, and wetting Karkat's hair. Baizli eases his legs into the water, and cups water over Karkat's chest.

"You're acting like their Lusus." Daraya comments, scrubbing her own hair.

"You bathe them, they bathe you; the only difference is that you can talk and teach them valuable life skills, instead of... being a big fucking beast."

 

*

 

Karkat is surprised when he's being led to the ablution trap, confused and tittering while he looks up at Daraya, having thought she'd drawn the bath for herself.

Still slightly confused but literally sinking in relaxation-- he hasn't had a hot bath for a while, and it's not like any of the streams and rivers have been exactly warm. And it's evident that the water feels good if that involuntary fluttery trill is anything to go by, Karkat slouching enough that by the time he's buzzing he blowing bubbles in the water the way his Lusus does.

He only sits up so that Barzum can get to his head, Baizli bringing water over his front. Karkat hums at Daraya's observation, and for the most part she might as well be right, Karkat certainly feels like their Lusus sometimes, like a parent troll (they were already his when they gifted him pretty river pebbles and he's so sad to think that he doesn't have them anymore, as if Karkat had had them sure as the grub currently in him right now).

"Hey I mean, having a big fucking beast as a caretaker is pretty neat, too. You learn how to fend for yourself and watch out for dangers-- oh, and make sounds like this--" Karkat stops abruptly to make a loud crik-crik-crik-kkkkkkkrrrrrck he learned from his Lusus (his Lusus liked to make that especially at the small flock-herd of Pygmy-Stockbeasts Tavros took care of, he'd never liked whenever they flew too near to wherever he had settled for however long). "--and a whole bunch of other things too."

Karkat takes to rubbing down the tops of his thighs, the heat of the water making things feel especially nice. "I was lucky and spoiled for a mutant though. I had my Lusus, even though he couldn't stay on land for too long, and my--" He nearly snaps midsentence to change his words, "--caretaker for when he couldn't watch me."

He remembers hearing the twins refer to Kanaya as a 'bad Jade', and if he can he'd rather avoid upsetting them by talking about her (at least while they're not ready, probably pretty set on not forgiving her unless some effort was made on his or Kanaya's part).

Just to keep away from the topic, Karkat shifts his attention, rubbing at Baizli's legs, more concerned than curious, "Isn't it hot for you? Are you alright?"

 

*

 

The noise Karkat makes startles all three trolls, the twins sharing a wide-eyed look while Daraya works to compose herself.

"Having a Lusus is like winning the slaughtery. I've seen countless dumb beasts barge into the caverns, get agitated, and start stepping on the grubs -- they don't even have the instinct to, I don't know, not injure or cull the progenitor of our entire forsaken species. Although, that only accounts for the Lusii that can walk on-land, or land long enough to pick out a grub." She slicks her hair back, blinking water from her eyes.

 

The twins, who had stiffened at the unexpectedly loud, foreign sound, both relax.

Daraya gestures to them.

"We don't get to see the Lusii of Purplebloods or Violetbloods. Not that we even hatch that many, but it's so weird to see them grow up, spin themselves a cocoon, and then waddle out. Bronya says we're not supposed to help them, that the nursery is already pushing the line of what we're allowed to do -- but I think she crossed that line when she adopted Karako." She smiles, now much less sharp without the severity of all her heavy make-up.

"Lanque's the oldest here, and you should've seen the look on his face when Bronya said she'd be 'looking after' a pupa. He looked like he wanted to fucking punt one of them down the nearest shaft." She laughs quietly while Barzum and Baizli resume bathing Karkat.

Baizli shakes his head.

"It's not hot-hot."

"I'd put my strutpods in, too, but Bronya says my new skin's sensitive and thin." Barzum adds, trying to keep her claws in check while her fingers comb through Karkat's hair.

The Jadeblood looks at them for a moment, a fang sinking into her lip.

"It's not... common... for Purplebloods to go around with pupae, is it?" She asks, picking at the underside of her claws.

"I know you're not the right troll to ask. I mean, you barely like me. But, Chahut's... not here right now, and neither is your mate. We have a Purpleblood grub, and..." Daraya laughs to herself, "never mind, you already have your fronds full."

 

*

 

He can't even imagine that, having to deal with Lusii entering the caverns just to get upset and squash grubs-- the thought has his hand over his chest, just thinking about that.

Karkat certainly did win the slaughtery on that one.

 

Daraya talks about Purple and Violet grubs, how they grow until they're ready to spin themselves up, just to leave like it wouldn't occur to them to stay put. It makes some sense though, if their Lusus can't, or won't, come to get them, that the new pupae might wander out in search of them.

Karkat glances at both twins, wondering if they'd been like that, come out of the caverns, together of course, but more or less alone while searching for their Lusus (remembers Gamzee telling him that they'd been found in some deserted hive. Thinking of that stirs up a feeling he doesn't like).

 

"Lanque's the oldest??" Karkat wants to laugh but....it seems more likely, even with Bronya who Karkat's immediately placed, at least in his head if not out of it, as Matron. "Certainly could have fooled me, the way he avoids Bronya," with how he'd seen Lanque get his ear pulled like he's as much pupae as the twins, Karkat wouldn't have known. He thinks he and Karako are somewhat the same, in that they were lucky to have another troll there that took on the role of caretaker over them.

Baizli says it's not so hot that he's uncomfortable, and as for Barzum, Karkat wouldn't want for her to do anything to stress her new skin out, having just mostly healed. He leans his head into her hands, trying not to beam so obviously that it looks like he's their Lusus, chirring softly at Barzum's carefulness.

 

Daraya brings up them being an unusual troupe, being that they have pupae. "As far as I'm told, it's not," though, Karkat suspects that they have the twins because of Chahut, being that she picked up Gamzee from that beach, that they were willing and viable to take in Karako from the caverns.

He raises a brow, not really expecting that, what it sounds like she's trying to ask. "I mean, you're a little likable, I'm not snarling at you, am I?" Karkat makes his tone like it's not that big a deal, "Though I don't think that has to do with what I think you're talking about, does it?" He purses his lips in thought, face slightly scrunching; would it add more trouble to their caravan? But...if they leave the grub...it might end up like Gamzee-- like that pupa he'd seen in Gamzee's headspace, waiting through sun and sand and hurt for a Lusus that might not come, or only come washed up and dying.

"....I can't promise anything, but I can ask..," Gamzee or Chahut would at least hear him out.

 

*

 

"I'm talking about pissing on a corner of this burning world. That's what I've been told I can do. I can't overturn the entire Empire -- I'd be culled in two seconds -- but I can try to piss on the fires." She shrugs, passing a hand through her hair.

"I've never wanted to be here. I don't belong here. It all seems so hopeless -- and maybe it's selfish. Maybe it's just to make me feel better about the fact I can't do anything. At least it's something, though. Something... better than nothing." She sighs, looking down at her toes.

"... Chahut told me what happens to the Purplebloods that leave the caverns. It sucks. They're supposed to be pampered highbloods, but they have the shittiest start in life -- and helping them is grounds for a culling." Her thick brows furrow.

"You don't need to ask anyone anything if you don't want to. I'm sure as fuck not letting you near the grub. You'll probably immediately adopt it and make that... weird noise at it."

 

Baizli gently moves his legs through the water, trilling.

"Karkat already has a grub inside him." He turns, peeking at Daraya over his shoulder.

"But it might not be like us." Barzum adds in a stage whisper.

"It might be soft, like him!" His toes wriggle, and he slips a bit more into the hot water.

"We won't be able to play properly with a soft pupa." Barzum amends.

Daraya snorts.

"Liytle psychopaths -- and Lanque is the oldest. Hierarchy isn't based off age, thank the stars. Bronya's the most suitable troll for Matron."

 

*

 

"I would not," okay, he maybe might adopt it, there, that one he can admit to himself; as for the other, "That's certainly not a noise to be made at a grub for stars' sake's. I only made it to show you," Karkat puffs his cheeks up, only slightly flushed and a little appalled that Daraya thinks he would. He wouldn't even make it at the twins, it's not an affectionate sound after all.

Karkat making weird noises he learned from his Lusus aside, he can understand Daraya a little bit, even if not completely.

That feeling of being unable to do anything; the feeling of trying or even doing something, even though it's pointless for all the impact it has; like throwing an egg against a stone. Karkat knows those feelings, if not in the same way then in part some way.

"...Something is better than nothing, most of the time..," Karkat speaks softly, looking toward Daraya, "I'm a blood mutie, y'know? Being a breeder can keep me from being outright culled by anyone else but the alternative is worse, but as I've been told and learned, the Empress would probably have me killed on-sight if she knew I existed. Xia too, and she's even part of the original spectrum."

He sighs a bit, turning back to look at the water, "Gotta say, pissing on a piece of unfair world sounds pretty neat; no matter how small, at least you've marked the world somehow." That's how he feels on that, anyway.

.....Even if it adds another possible liability, he should still ask; even if all of them know that, Gamzee and Chahut might still want to. If only that it would take one away from a number of Indigo pupae dying. Daraya may say things like that but even she's obviously worried about the grub.

The twins more or less are also hoping for Karkat's grub to be Indigo, so that they don't have to be as careful as with a Red grub if they want to play with it.

"You'll still need to be careful even if it's not soft like me, because it's still a grub," he says, keeping from fully snorting how Daraya says without actually saying that Lanque is not Matron material.

 

*

 

"We will!" Both twins say, Baizli fully sinking into the water with a quiet trill. Barzum just crouches at the lip of the trap, leaning over it.

 

Daraya snorts despite herself.

"How am I supposed to know? All Lusii noises sound aggressive and terrifying to me. Cloistered Jades are, you know, cloistered . Our finny overlords want us to have pusher malfunctions if we so much as see the night sky." Nevermind that their cave system has a big hole in the roof; she supposes it's to allow flying Lusii easier access to the grubs.

Baizli, with his legs splayed out over Karkat's, plays gently in the water. His skin is turning a light lavender, flushed from the heat. It's an enjoyable sensation, and one which makes him sleepy.

With a chirr, he crawls atop Karkat, curling up in the mutant's lap.

"Don't be a grubling!" Barzum tries to reprimand her twin, more out of jealousy than anything else, but Baizli's lids flutter shut, and he nuzzles his cheek into Karkat's chest.

"Not my fault you can't be in the water." He murmurs.

 

Daraya gets to her feet, shaking out her hair.

"Lu-sus." She teases, walking past Karkat and out of the ablution trap.

Barzum hugs her legs and tips back onto her behind, watching Daraya leave the block.

"....Are we gonna get a grub?"

 

*

 

Karkat can't help a small chuckle as Daraya laments being cloistered; sure, the security the caves offer is nice, but never being able to leave, to the point someone can fear looking up at the sky? It's not as ideal when put like that.

"Yeah, okay, I see your point."

Baizli is now wholly in the trap, skin flushing lavender with Karkat concerned if it is too warm for him, though evidently he seems to be fine in the water. Enough that he makes small splashes, playing lightly with his legs shifting over Karkat's, Barzum finished with his hair and leaning over as much as she dares without falling in. Only to reprimand her brother-- with a distinct tone of envy --when he proceeds to absolutely melt Karkat's insides by crawling more into his lap, a now lukewarm face nuzzling into his chest.

Sticks his tongue out fully playful at Daraya as she leaves.

Not wanting Barzum to feel left out, Karkat reaches out of the trap to tug her close, inching up so that she's not uncomfortable as he brings her arms around his shoulders. "Don't worry, sweetness. Focus on healing up so you can do everything you want to, yeah? Besides," Karkat stage whispers but it's loud enough for drowsy ears to hear, "Baizli will miss his treats if he falls asleep now."

His fingers drag slow and lulling over the wriggler in his lap, arm around Barzum and rubbing the same patterns on her back, thinking.

"Well, what do you two think? It's not the grub I've got in here," Karkat makes a slight wiggle, gesturing to his belly, "but it's still a grub that's gonna need some help after it pupates. Do you think we should take it with us? We'll still have to ask Gamzee either way, and if he says no then that's kind of that, y'know?"

 

*

 

Barzum puts her head in her hands, puffing out her cheeks.

"That grub might be a mutant like you, though." She leans over to look at Karkat's stomach, although she can't see anything.

"If we got a Purple grub, then it wouldn't matter if your grub's Red." Baizli continues the thought, heavy eyelids fluttering open.

"Chahut's always been saying that, one night, we'd have another troll traveling with us -- and that we'd have to teach them how to read scripture, and preach, and paint their face -- " She goes off, looking excited at the prospect.

"But," Baizli interrupts her, "she always said that'd be after we stopped being pupae."

"We can already do our own faces, though!" Barzum wriggles out from under Karkat's grasp, standing.

Baizli hums his agreement, slowly scooting from Karkat's lap, climbing out of the ablution trap.

He resembles his twin, now; the both of their bodies splotched in lavender. They giggle over it.

"If Gamzee agrees," Baizli starts, "what do you think he'll name the grub?" Barzum finishes, both twins standing at the edge of the trap.

 

Chahut's towering figure ducks unceremoniously into the room, her skin gradually expressing strands of silk; she's fully clothed, and not here to bathe.

Her features soften when she lays her eyes on Karkat.

"What kind of ablution party might be takin' place, Brothers and Sisters?" She asks, both twins chirping to her.

"There's a grub!" Barzum beats Baizli to the news.

"A Purple grub!" He elaborates, just as excited as his sister.

"We're going to ask Gamzee if we can take the grub with us when we leave!" Their voices mingle alongside their enthusiasm, Chahut's brows raising.

She rumbles deep in her chest.

"Twins," she shuffles aside, gesturing to the doorway of the ablution trap, "why don't you two dress yourselves and gather the rest of our flock. I'm sure everyone's gastric sacs are 'bout empty." She smiles to herself, watching the twins toddle off; they chirp at Karkat, waving.

The eldest Purpleblood waits for their footsteps to die out before her attention shifts to Karkat.

"What a lovely surprise... A Sister just wanted to check on one of her most vulnerable Brothers... Your mate will agree if I raised him as is rightful and proper." Her hands lock before her, as they often do.

"Your opinion, Brother Karkat? A grub's the second-weakest creature next to a grublin'; even my 'coon'll offer more protection than the flimsy exoskeleton of a grub. Might find yourself with many stresses and worries if a grub is taken so soon from the caverns..."

 

*

 

Karkat doesn't get to answer, what they'd name the grub-- a question to think about for his own grub --when his gaze moves to the entry, Chahut just walking in and seeming, well, like a stressed troll about to pupate.

The twins can't even wait to share the news with her about the Purple grub, exclaiming with their total exuberance, though Chahut only raises a brow before smiling, telling the both of them to get dressed and find everyone for dinner before turning back to Karkat.

He can see thin strands of silk coming loose and hanging from Chahut's frame, at least where the robes show her slightly purpling carapace. It's worrying, that she still looks a little sick but even so her expression is guarded as she asks Karkat about his thoughts on the grub, having waited until the twins were no longer in earshot.

"I..," while he does think they should take the grub with them, Karkat also has to think about how vulnerable that would make the caravan, choosing his words carefully, "...I'm still not so sure myself. Gamzee told me most caravans don't travel with pupae, makes them vulnerable, and I know that I must be as much a risk too to be traveling around with." He knows he's a liability, was even before carrying, an expectant breeder is anywhere, even in a village (already double weak and useless, and carrying adds a half to that).

"...Gamzee told me, about when you picked him up and how he was before that....," Karkat trails off, not quite able to finish the thought and shaking his head to say something else. "I'd like it if we could. I'd feel better, with one less pupa...going out and waiting like that...," even that he can't finish putting into words, shaking his head again, "But, me feeling better is one thing, being able to provide for that grub is another. It hasn't really even hit me yet, that I'm growing one in here," his hands flutter toward his stomach, "I'm not sure what I'm trying to do, wanting to think about that grub before this one even forms itself out of it's eggsac.."

Karkat shifts to prop himself on the ledge, facing himself more properly toward Chahut, "How...how do you feel about it?" Thinking some more before he speaks again, "You're about to pupate, too, Chahut. The silk is threading off of you even. I'd also like it if we could make sure you're as comfortable and unstressed as possible, so you don't have anything to worry about when you start spinning your 'coon."

 

*

 

Chahut nods, glancing over her hands; she's been picking threads off herself all night, fretting about Karkat while constantly checking in on Xia.

"Your mate insisted I cocoon myself in the merchant van. Most comfortable." He'd spoken with her just after dropping the other Burgundyblood into the trunk, assuring her that they'll be painting the upholstery; there'll always be someone capable to watch over her while she pupates.

Glancing over her shoulder, Chahut moves closer to Karkat until she's nearly looming over him.

"Travelin' with pupae and wrigglers might temporarily weaken a caravan, but there ain't near as much inner strife. The Grand Highblood endorses my... The Grand Highblood has not punished me for taking in Brother Gamzee, Brother Karako, or our Little Suns. I'm sure He wouldn't mind further additions, whether descended from him or otherwise." She keeps quiet, hands still clasped before her.

"We ain't got no easy start in this life, and we suppose it to be to weed out the weak... but, by passing a youngling, we're ignoring a sign from The Mirthful Messiahs... The Merciful Messiah wants Their children to live, even if only to suffer at the hands of Their Malicious Twin." She doesn't know what Gamzee told Karkat, but she can imagine none of it was particularly pleasant.

 

Her shoulders drop, the stress receding -- if only for a moment.
"The Grand Highblood's descendants are enough." She moves away, giving Karkat some space.

"Your mate can be a vicious troll, and Kurloz will be just as vicious as his superior instructs him... Sister Zhen has lost a horn, but if you asked for every Navy in the city to be robbed in turn, they would carry it out. Protectin' some cocoons or grubs ain't a deal for 'em." A shout echoes down the cave, belatedly causing Chahut's head to turn.
She chirrs to herself.

"Time to eat. Does a Brother need himself some help? Company?" Gamzee will surely be waiting for Karkat, at which point Chahut becomes redundant -- but until then, she wants to be helpful.

 

*

 

That's good, Karkat thinks, if she's going to spin in the merchant caravan; it's got a nice amount of space, even for her possible adult body, if she wants to hide some sentimental things there are still some compartments that aren't being used, it'll be comfortable even if it's not the water instinct probably wants her to spin by.

"That'll be nice. Let me know if you want anything put away for you, I'll make sure no one gets a frond on it," Karkat beams, proud of himself for going through every nook, cranny and corner of the merchant cart on their way over.

Chahut moves closer, after looking over her shoulder, Karkat getting the vibe that this wasn't really something she wanted heard by others. Tells Karkat how she sees them picking up pupae-- that The Grand Highblood more or less allows her to do so, whether it's for the sake of humoring her or something else, Chahut's not very clear on it. She...seems almost nervous to tell him, or at least that's how it feels to Karkat.

When Chahut posits that Gamzee can be vicious, Karkat almost breaks face and snorts during such a serious conversation, almost; he knows firsthand Gamzee being vicious, so much so that he won't even let Karkat's own viciousness come out, at least not on him. That aside, it's reassuring to hear from her that they'd go so far, that it wouldn't take as much effort to protect a pupating cocoon or some grubs and pupae.

Someone's voice carries through the cavern, and Karkat should get out of the bath trap while he's got the mind for it.

He grins more heartfully, sheepishly, up at Chahut, beginning to rise from the trap, "I won't mind some company. I just need a change of clothes."

 

*

 

Chahut nods, stepping out for a moment to retrieve a set of robes for Karkat.

The underlining is a simple white shift, the cuffs and collar lightly ruffled; atop that sits a heavier Jade robe. Almost every Jadeblood has their own styling of it, but Chahut hasn't brought down anything else. It isn't her place.

"Figured you'd want somethin' clean to conceal your carapace." Another shout, and she clicks back, the sound loud enough to reverberate throughout the cave system.

"Impatient wrigglers." She murmurs, turning away from Karkat while he dresses.

"Awful considerate of you to keep watch over my belongings, but I ain't got none that ain't shared 'tween every other motherfucker. It's as it should be." Relaxed, she regains some of her calm grace; knowing that she'll be leaving the caravan and its most vulnerable members in good hands.

"Just keep my cocoon clean, Little One. If the outer layers need to be fed to the grub, or to the twins, feel free... Messiahs know it ain't my place to withhold nutrition, tasteless as it may be." The idea of consuming the silk coming out of her pores makes her feel ill right now, but she's sure that after pupation, she'll care a lot less about that, and much more about feeding her newly-pupated body.

Once Karkat's dressed, Chahut walks with him to the nutrition block.

Neither Burgundyblood is in attendance, and Xia, Zhen, and Polypa are missing. Everyone else -- even Kurloz, reclusive though he may be -- is there.

Gamzee chirrs a greeting, approaching his mate.

"Don't you look all shiny-new?" He scritches Karkat under the chin, leaning in for a moment.

"I'll be watching Sister Chahut spin today. You wanna stay in the cloister, or keep me company? It don't matter what you prefer."

 

*

 

Karkat amuses himself by thinking he's also part of the cloister robe club when that's what Chahut comes back with, thanking her as he steps fully out.

She clicks at another shout, letting some irritation show at the impatient wrigglers, Karkat smiling to himself as he fixes the undershirt and robe on him. He has to gather the bottom of it if he wants to walk without tripping but that's completely doable, holding the skirts to the side as he's for the most part swimming in the robes, though Karkat won't complain at that (Kanaya would, she'd be trying to fix the damn thing up much like Zhen having improvised it).

"Don't you worry about anything," he reassures her, intending to make sure her cocoon is clean and ready for her when she's finished and breaking out of the silk.

 

In the dining block, they're short some trolls, and Karkat doesn't mean the Burgundies-- though he is relieved to see Chixie still present, wanting to speak with her about what had happened earlier. Frowning a little that Zhen and Xia aren't there, probably in the nursery, one being mad at him and the other likely submerged in sopor. He'd like to talk with Xia too, though Karkat doesn't even have anything to say that would make her less upset.

Gamzee comes to greet him, Karkat making a soft chitter back. Though he says he'll be watching Chahut put up her cocoon, and Karkat feels like he should watch, just to make sure she's okay, even though that's basically what Gamzee's doing.

It also means his time to try and talk to everyone he wants to is shortened, but..he can be fast if he wants to. "I'll come watch with you. I'll be more at ease knowing she's alright even while she's in a 'coon."

 

*

 

"She'll be fine." Gamzee says this with more confidence than he feels, although he doubts anything bad will happen. It's just change and stress.

"C'mon, let's go sit." He hooks his arm round Karkat's waist, walking his mate to the same seats they'd taken the previous night -- although, this time, Chahut settles herself beside Karkat.

The eldest Indigoblood passes along sugary foods to Karkat, including fresh, ripe fruits, juice squeezed from softer fruits, broth; some glazed featherbeast, and a mug of that thick, viscious liquid Karako had made the previous day.

Gamzee whistles, watching Chahut serve Karkat as if the mutant were royalty.

"You been fussing over the motherfucking breeders all damn night, Sister. They'll be all good." Gamzee shares in the food, as well, though he strays from the sugar-heavy fare put out for Karkat and Xia.

"You'll feel the same irrational urges when you pupate... though, carin' for breeders ain't much irrational, is it?" She rumbles, her own servings rather small.

 

Again, Kurloz pays the Jades in gems from Karkat's dress, passing Bronya a small satchel.

Wanshi and the twins chatter excitedly, while Lynera speaks with Bronya in hushed tones. Karako's stuck to Bronya's side like a wriggler, evidently enjoying his time back in the caverns. Daraya and Lanque chat occasionally, although Daraya's warmed up enough to the other trolls -- Chahut, especially -- that she offers a few words out to them.

"So, Karkat," halfway through their meal, she addresses the mutant, "did you... think about it?" Her gaze flickers from Chahut to Karkat to Gamzee, the latter looking over his mate.

"Think on what?" He asks, and Chahut places a gentle hand on the small of Karkat's back.

"A very interesting query was posited earlier..."

Notes:

Wherever you are, my friend, I hope at the least you're seriously okay.

It's the not knowing that's really getting me, eating me up from the inside to the out. Doing so quietly, I even almost forget that it's there, gnawing at my insides. Then, it'll hit me at the worst of times, at the worst moment, break me down all over again. Make me have to build it all back up again. Makes me feel like it's all worthless, I should just let the pieces sit there and rot, just because nothing good is happening when I want it to.

Maybe I don't because I'm scared.
Maybe because I'm already tired.

 

regardless of all of that, I hope you're doing well. I wish that I can soon speak with you again.

Please be alright.

Chapter 29: Storge

Notes:

You might hate hearing it by now, but you really breathed life into this, into all of our AUs. I loved being on the same wavelength, knowing that you put just as much of yourself into it as I did, or at least I felt like that. It wasn't really hard to match each other, of course except in the rare moments when either of us took a hard turn and left each other gobsmacked for what to do. But we worked through it, retconned and redid things to better suit what we wanted.

Am I by myself in missing that?

Karkat may as well have stars in his widened eyes for the sugar-spread on the table that his instincts immediately register as eat that. There is fruit galore and Karkat's afraid his eyes are going to be bigger than his gastric sac at this rate, graciously taking a little of everything Chahut passes to him. There's even more of that sugar broth and that supplemental concoction Karako made...which isn't bad at all, the taste itself is nice enough, it's just the texture and the way it goes down that he's not excited for.

Karkat starts with that first, downing the mug quickly so he doesn't have to feel the texture in his mouth, feeling a hard sense of pride that he could do it at all probably looking silly if anyone is paying attention to him, looking at his lap with a fist held in quiet victory.

Chahut's fussing won't be for naught, and she'll get to take a break from worrying about anyone else but herself while she's pupating, at least Karkat hopes so.

Though, her suggesting that Gamzee will feel the same need to fuss...Karkat's head supplies him with nothing save a singular thought of c l i n g y but times ten and then some; that's going to be a fun time for sure.

Conversations pick up and go on, adding that nice gathered ambiance and feeling Karkat likes, reminded again of festivals. Happily sipping at his juice and biting into fresh fruits until Daraya calls to him, gaining his attention and slight confusion until Chahut says something, Karkat perking in realization before turning to Gamzee, "Ah-- so...there's a Purpleblood grub here. I know we're not exactly at our peak best or in much of a position to," what with Chahut pupating and having a large number of trolls already to squeeze into the caravan, "but..I thought we could maybe take the grub with us? Just so that, it doesn't try and head to the beach and...," well, Gamzee knows the rest of that particular path.

"If you don't think we should, then I'll leave it at that..," even though Karkat knows it's going to eat at him if they do.

 

*

 

Gamzee blinks, gaze shifting from his mate, to Chahut, then to Daraya -- and, suddenly, to Lanque.

"Motherfucker," he calls, just loud enough to be heard, "you got a Purple grub?" The Jadeblood sighs, flipping his hair from his forehead with a flick.

"I try not to be involved with those things as much as possible. Why?" He raises a perfectly plucked brow.

"My mate and I wanna go check it out. See if there's really a Purple grub." Gamzee cradles his head in his hands, offering Lanque a too-sweet smile.

The Jadeblood replies in kind with a much more predatory look.

"Fine, I'll take you two -- you and your gushing pushers."

With that settled, Gamzee's expression reverts, and he leans over to his mate.

"We'll go see the grub after we eat." He places a hand on Karkat's thigh, giving the mutant a reassuring squeeze.

Kurloz carefully, quietly enters into the conversation.

"Your mate is already carrying. With that, and Xia, do we have enough to sustain a grub?" He's being exceedingly careful with his question, although that doesn't stop Gamzee from sneering.

"Xia and Zhen ain't permanent. They also ain't defenceless. As far as sustaining a grub goes, if we can't legally make a motherfucking purchase, we'll steal it -- cull for it -- whatever the fuck we gotta do. Karkat carrying don't got nothing to do with this." He clicks, watching Kurloz as the older troll accepts his decision, and returns to his meal.

Chahut's relaxed considerably, enough so to begin chatting with Daraya. Marvus and Chixie get along wonderfully, as well; they look almost clade, with how he offers her food and makes sure she gets what she wants.

 

*

 

How Lanque responds kind has Karkat peeved, but not enough to say anything about it-- even though Lanque could have just said 'yes' without making any kind of look at his mate, but whatever.

That Gamzee wants to at least check it out puts his heart a little more at ease, a hand squeezing his thigh has Karkat give him a meaningful smile; even when Kurloz poses a good and important question: can they sustain it? For that too, Gamzee already seems set on them keeping it without seeing the grub-- though he also reminds Karkat that they could probably sustain the grub and themselves for a decent bit with Xia and Zhen, what with all the loot he made off with from Zebruh's manorhive, still having yet to tell Gamzee, or Chixie, for that matter.

The chatter gradually picks back up again, and Chahut seems to be relaxing enough that she's making conversation with Daraya; Karkat supposes that if she wants her to know that she's pupating, then Chahut will tell her. If she doesn't and Daraya asks him about it later though, he'll at least explain, since out of all of them, it's Chahut who Daraya seems the most attached to.

If he glances toward Chixie and Marvus, the air around them seems suspiciously.... sweet. The way they look, especially with Marvus ensuring she gets the foods she wants. Then again, Marvus could just be his usual, overly nice and friendly self and Chixie could just be happy that her idol is paying this much attention to her, and Karkat's reading too much into it; either way, the way it looks is the kind of thing that gets talked about, and he's now got more than Zebruh to discuss with Chixie.

With everyone's gastric sacs getting full, the chattering starts to ebb down, whoever's on schedule is up and clearing away the table. Karkat makes sure to find his bag, pass out the sticky rolls to everyone who didn't already eat theirs (holding Xia's and Polypa's, since he and Gamzee are going to the nursery anyway) and somehow manages to get the twins and Wanshi to hold still so he can give them theirs and their bag of chocolates.

"Don't eat them all at once, or you'll make yourselves sick. And wash out your mouths after. You don't want fang-rot, do you??"

Once they're all bounding off and enjoying pastries and sweets, Karkat sidles close to where Chixie is while she's momentarily alone, acting the very picture of innocence, "Getting on pretty well, aren't you two?"

 

*

 

Chixie trills, ears perking up.

While Karkat's putting on the innocent act, Chixie's ready to dodge any and all questions.

"Are we? I think that's just how he is, you know, with most trolls. It's a totally different troll than what I've heard of him -- in a good way." She keeps it objective, that Marvus is a kinder troll than she thought, and her own feelings don't spill into the mix.

After all, even if there are no gossip-mongers here, being the 'dumb, good Bronzeblood' of the village has already been drilled into Chixie.

"You were getting along pretty well with Daraya." She mentions, soft voice betraying nothing.

"That's really good. The caverns seem safe, but I think I'd get a little lonely if I were forced to live here, and not allowed to leave." Chixie pauses, then leans in, passing some hair behind her ears. "Vianya's dead, isn't she?" Or dying, she supposes; the Burgundyblood just vanished at some point during their hauling.

"Dead or dying. I guess that's how it is around here -- not the caverns, but with Purplebloods. Marvus is nice, but he still culls trolls during his concerts. He doesn't discriminate. A Tealblood is as likely to be culled as a Bronzeblood. Still... that kind of sucks." She hasn't forgotten about Diemen, either, no matter how much she'd been trying.

The twins, who had thanked Karkat with wide smiles and ran off with their treats, couldn't have done anything. They're too innocent. Karako, too, is glued to Bronya's side, occasionally honking, or muttering something under his breath.

Marvus... isn't entirely innocent.

 

Just based on looks alone, she wants to ask if Kurloz is to blame, but she has a feeling that Karkat's mate is to blame -- and she knows better than to meddle with someone's matehood. Meddling in quadrants is one thing, meddling in matehood is an entirely different beast.

"Sorry, I know it shouldn't get me down. How are you and your mate doing?" She perks herself up, offering Karkat an inoffensive smile.

 

*

 

Karkat's cheeks puff, dodged again and Chixie being no fun by doing so. She's too composed to get caught off, and for Karkat that means no proper gossip is to be made or had.

Or perhaps he is reading too much into it.

"Daraya's actually nice to talk to sometimes," well, now that she'd grown on him anyway.

"Yeah, the caverns are safe, but..," Karkat thinks back to some of what Daraya had said earlier, "...I might manage, y'know, if I were Jade and cloistered. But, it'd definitely be lonely, not being able to leave if I wanted to." It's different than being in his village, having the option to leave but being comfortable enough to not want to, versus just not being able to at all.

Karkat has more sympathy for Daraya by that, and some for anyone else who's wanted to leave the caverns.

 

Chixie leans in, though Karkat's not expecting for her to talk about one of the Burgundies. Guilt crosses over his expression, grown somber by the topic; Karkat still feels kind of sad about it, since Diemen hadn't done anything he could justify him dying-- becoming a sacrifice for, and he didn't even talk with Vianya enough to hear about her.

If they didn't die quickly, then the both of them must be terrified by now, being in that trunk space.

"We've been fine," Karkat can tell the smile is forced, but he doesn't say anything on it, trying to match it even, "I don't know if you heard from across the table, but there's a Purpleblood grub here. We're thinking to take it with us when we leave the caverns," Karkat's not sure how much he should elaborate on what happens to Indigo pupae, how most end up dying more often than not. It's not really pleasant to speak about.

He shakes his head and changes the topic, not wanting to think about that so much. "Actually, I had something to talk with you about. You know that Navy you mention sometimes, the music critic? What was his full name? You said he owns the club you perform at?" If Karkat can, he's going to blot Zebruh's name from the deed certificate-- he's read enough about forgery so it should be pretty simple, right?

 

*

 

"He, uh, owns a lot of things. His name's Zebruh Codakk." She gestures with her hands as she speaks.

"He owns venues that normally host lowbloods as accompanying acts to highbloods -- because it's expected of him, and he says the hemospectrum can't be smashed in one night -- and he owns a few nutrition establishments. I'm not really sure what his plans were for those. I think he wanted the nutritional establishment to front for, um, some subversive dealings, but... even if I did want to overthrow the Empire, I wouldn't trust Zebruh with any sensitive information." Chixie laughs and, even nervous, the sound is bright and clear.

She'd only heard bits and pieces of the other chatter round the table, being that she was immersed in conversation with Marvus -- but she perks up at the idea.
"Who's going to be its Lusus?" She asks, the idea itself excessively foreign.

"I mean, I know that you're carrying and you'll be your grub's caretaker, but... does that feeling extend to other grubs?" Then again, she'd seen how Karkat treats the twins.

They should be nothing more than irritating pupae, always underfoot, but Karkat looks at them with a certain affection reserved wholly for them.

"Are you already taking care of those twins?" She asks in hushed tones, in case it's sensitive information.

"I thought Chahut was the, uh, clown equivalent of a Matron. She doesn't have any problems with how you treat those pupae?"

 

*

 

Forgery is going to be so easy, plus Karkat's got the identification he looted and if he copies Zebruh's signature he's sure that'd come in handy for getting away with shit further down the line.

"Zebruh Codakk?" It is the same, and Karkat's got some confessions to make, though his tone is as composed as Chixie's in that he doesn't show anything more than being in surprised and in thought at the name. It looks like those other deeds will need some looking through, sounding like they're going to be pretty useful in the long run.

"He sure sounds like a troll I wouldn't trust with anything sensitive," well, he is dead, so.

The subject of the grub comes back up, Karkat thinking his words through, "I..really don't know. Everything's still up in the air." Though, Karkat imagines that he'd be caring for it, because the grub needs caring for, and because he's the one who asked which puts most of the responsibility on him.

Chahut and the twins...gosh, Karkat hadn't even thought about that, if he was overstepping anything-- now he feels a little stupid, not even thinking about it. Learning how Chahut was and not thinking about her. Despite his sudden nervousness and revelation, Karkat gives an answer, "..She does feel that way, doesn't she? If it does bother her, how I've been with the twins, she hasn't told me yet," and she's really good at hiding it, if she does feel a way about that; if Chahut does have something to say, Karkat would listen to her.

"I...well, that's how I was raised, too. I was lucky enough to get picked up by a Lusus, and then by my caretaker when my Lusus couldn't stand to be dry. She's hardly two or three sweeps older than me, but she still went and picked up some bratty mutant grub to carry around the village. I've never seen my Lusus mind it, and I'd like to think it was because he understood what this random wriggler was up to. My village is kinda like that, too. We'd get some pupae who've made their way there without a Lusus, and anyone who's able tries to take care of them, at the very least make sure they're eating and have a place to sleep." Karkat would like to think that if any Purple grubs or pupae came across their village that they'd also receive that same care and kindness.

After thinking some while there's a lull in talking, Karkat figures he'll take care of the club deed before he tells Chixie anything about Zebruh, give it to her and tell her about what happened at the same time.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but, when do you plan to go back? Not that I want you to leave, please don't think that, I seriously don't. You'd better not think so either, I'm pretty attached to you being here and I've got half a mind to ask if you can come with us too," Karkat jokes-- and really hopes that Chixie doesn't think he wants her to go, "I just have something to give you, and I wanna make sure I'm not going to miss the chance, is all."

 

*

 

"Yeah... You didn't run into him, did you?" It's not a stretch, she imagines -- if Karkat was going around as an Oliveblood with Zhen at his side, then Chixie could see Zebruh eyeing them up. She can also almost hear him drone on about privilege and class, while also entirely missing the mark.

It's been a long time since she's listened to a single thing that troll had to say.
"I'm really sorry if you did." She offers a soft smile.

"I know how awful he can sound. If I weren't a Bronzeblood, I'd probably take some backstage equipment and beat him to death with it -- but I doubt I'd do much more than bruise him and irritate him, so..." She trails off with a shrug, returning to the topic of the grub.

It piques her interest, considering she's never seen a grub.

She's seen diagrams of grubs and heard descriptions of them, but there were no breeders in her village, and she doesn't exactly make daily trips to the cloister.

"My village was... um... If a highblood caught you feeding a lost pupa or wriggler, or sheltering them, that might be grounds for a culling, depending on your caste. Not that it was ever much of a problem!" She holds her hands up, as if waving away the thought.

"Almost everyone had a Lusus, and accidents were few and far between. It was pretty peaceful, so long as no highbloods came around." She twirls a lock of hair round her finger.
Karkat's insistence that he doesn't want her to leave almost makes her think he does want her to return to the city, but, while he does play village games, Karkat doesn't seem like that big a liar.

"Oh, you don't have to give me anything! I actually wanted to see if you'd all still be around in a few nights. I have a gig coming up, and I'm allowed a plus one -- preferably below Teal, according to Zebruh, but I know he'd make exceptions for Purplebloods, and you pass really well for an Oliveblood. I don't think he'd mind if I took you or another troll with me. It's the least I could do, since everyone's been so kind to me."

 

*

 

"Why are you sorry?? Don't apologize for someone else's grossness," and now Karkat feels even worse about waiting to tell her-- dammit, he's going to have to, isn't he??

Karkat doesn't say anything more on that, letting Chixie change the course of the conversation, his brows creasing though as she talks more about her village, making an awed hum, "It really is different in other villages. I don't know why I never thought it would be, but still..," not only was Chixie's village strict, having constraining rules and not even being able to take care of lost wrigglers for stars' sake's, but it sounded...pretty suffocating, to be honest. He can see maybe why she left, even if it was just to come to a city where another highblood took it upon himself to boss her around..... well, not anymore anyway.

Being invited to Chixie's next gig is the straw that broke the humped-beast's back and Karkat can't hold it in, the news already gnawing at him, he can even feel tears trying to come.

"Oh-- aw stars," Karkat gives a quick look around before tugging Chixie toward a more secluded crag-- not quite away from everyone but certainly more private than being in earshot of unwanted ears.
He's holding her by the shoulders, noticing Chixie being just a head or half taller than him before his hands drop to fidget with themselves, taking a deep breath, "Okay, alright...first off," Karkat gathers himself, feeling a little like when Xia was scolding him, but he tries not to be as nervous, "We're gonna be here for another few nights I think, give or take, until Barzum doesn't need to sleep in or wrap her eyes in healing sopor. You sing so beautifully, and I'm so happy and thankful that you came along to sing for the celebration."

Karkat's only good at sometimes hiding how he feels, and even then it's not really successful, for all that his heart shows on his sleeve.

"I'd love to come hear you on your next gig. I have to be honest, I've never heard Marvus perform before, so to me you're the best singer I've ever got the chance to meet." Not that Karkat's met or heard many song idols before but for the most part that's the truth.

"I...have to confess something to you," Karkat swallows but continues with a nervous determination, "Don't be angry...please don't be angry, or well, I can't really ask you not to be, so at least wait until we're somewhere no one can hear you be angry at me," even if Chixie's upset with him, she has a right to be and he doesn't want her dying via Gamzee, or anyone else for that matter, because she wants to yell at him, however she takes the news, "....We..did, meet Zebruh that is. Well, we didn't know it was him, not until later, but still....."

He tells her about how he and Zhen were selling off some gems from his wedding dress and how Zebruh had come up to them, "The way he said he had his eye on 'my pretty little Bronzeblood' was nothing short of disgusting, and when he said his name, I knew he was talking about you." Karkat looks up at her meaningfully, about to ask her if she knows how hard it is to hide how upset he was when he was; he knows she knows, she's been doing it whenever she mentions the Navyblood, whenever Karkat tried to pry her feelings open. "It made me so...infuriated, the way he talked-- the way he looked at me and Zhen, like he was peeling off our clothes and imagining underneath-- asked her if she knew Marvus, like all Indigos were supposed to just know each other. By far, he was the most lowdown, grease-polished, sleaze-minded disgrace of a troll I've ever had the misfortune to meet-- I've known Navies who are leagues more pleasant and considerate than they should be, but never any so bad as that." Again, Karkat is probably biased on how Navybloods should act. "He didn't even buy anything, but, I wouldn't have wanted him to, if he was going to use it as something to hold over you."

Once his flare of anger dissipates and he's back to being nervous about telling her what happened, that they made the suggestion to meet with Zebruh later over the tickets that were likely to her event. How they didn't waste time once they were in his hive, Karkat distracting him for Zhen to stick him-- that this was how Zhen's horn was broken, even letting out the details of how Karkat smashed both his horns and his face afterward.

He's somewhat shaking as he rifles through his bag, looking for the deed to the club, pulling it free and presenting it to Chixie, "....I'm so sorry.... we..I probably made a big mess of things, I wasn't thinking straight and it's probably ruined everything. It's fine if you're upset with me, I deserve it..but please tell me, if this is at least some use to you?"

 

*

 

A variety of emotions cross Chixie's face, from surprise to shock to awe -- and, at the presentation of the deed, she looks dumbfounded. Her brown eyes scan over the document, taking a moment to linger over the signature at the bottom.

"This... is for me?" Gingerly, she holds the deed in her hands, rereading the name as if to solidify it.
Then, she hugs the deed -- hugs Karkat -- and chirps, hopping on the spot.

"Yes! Yes!" She's being less than quiet, attracting Marvus' attention.

"With this, I won't have to deal with that slimy greaseball lording himself over me with his tirades on 'lowblood queens' and how he thinks I'm 'so brave' for 'defying my place in the hemospectrum'." She laughs, positively jubilant.
Marvus saunters over, healing hand in his pocket.

"What's got you two so many shades of fuckin' riled, babes?" His gaze moves smoothly from Karkat to Chixie, and the Bronzeblood can't help herself.
She shows Marvus the deed, beaming.

"I own my own club! I won't have to play second-stringed instrument to highbloods, anymore! They won't have the chance to steal my songs because they'll never get on stage! Can you imagine? A lowblood owning a club?" She's still bouncing when Marvus lays a hand on her head, patting her between the horns.

"Aw sheeeeet, really? You was gettin' upstaged before? And that social pa-ra-site didn't think to himself to 'help the cause' with a lil' fine bloodshed? Fo' shame. Better he culled by our righteous Brother and Sister." Chixie stops for a moment, her smile unabating but her mind rolling over the words.

"How... do you know that? Did you overhear us? Was I too loud?" She shoots a look back at Karkat, returning to Marvus when he chuckles.

The Indigoblood taps his temple.

"A feelin'." He leans down, thick, silky hair falling over his shoulders.

"Our duet was the illest. What you say 'bout openin' your club with a motherfuckin' banger 'tween us?" He straightens, shrugging.
Chixie both flushes and blanches at the same time.

"I'd -- I'd love to, but you... um... cull trolls during... your shows..." She trails off until her voice is a squeak, to which Marvus shrugs.

"Sometimes, the audience gets so lit, they blind themselves and just see what they wanna see. Not that my fans'd be upset to be culled by me... but I'd rather leave those thoughts elsewhere." He smiles, and Chixie could melt.
The Bronzeblood nods, turning back to Karkat.

"Thank-you! I'm sorry Zhen lost a horn -- but this is the best thing that's ever happened to me in my life!"

 

*

 

Karkat was expecting a lot of things but certainly not a hug, nor for Chixie to literally be bouncing in joy. It takes him a minute for his face to go from shock at her reaction to growing glee, getting a little caught up in how happy she seems and hugging back, an ingrained village instinct-- Gamzee shouldn't have a problem with Karkat platonically hugging ....or, platonically, kissing other trolls, not that Karkat just goes around doing that anyway to a friend, and if he does, well, then Karkat...will think of something.

It's the most honest she's been and she's gorgeous for it, Karkat thinks. Makes that entire thing worth it, almost. It'd be even better if he had a way to apologize to Xia and Zhen other than words-- words won't make her horn grow back and the thing that would, neither are really counting on.

Marvus comes over noticing the commotion, and even then Chixie is just as exhilarated while telling him the good news, Karkat doesn't think she could hide how happy she is even if she wanted to.

Though Karkat is also confused at how Marvus knows-- he'd purposely didn't tell him in case he would have told Gamzee before Karkat could. 'A feelin'', he says, which has Karkat raise his brow. Sure.

"Well, I'd wanna come even if you're singing on your own, but if you're gonna have a duet, I guess I'll finally hear Marvus sing." That it's made her day and subsequently let her temporarily forget about Diemen and Vianya and that it's the most real smile Karkat's seen on her has him beaming.

"If you need that to look more.. I dunno, official? Indisputable? Concrete, there, that's the word I want, but if you need it to look more like that, I'll do what I can. But I also know a Cerulean who can make it look more legal and professional, she'd do it as a favor to me."

Vriska won't turn down an opportunity to show off, nor something to put her in Kanaya's good graces even though showing Karkat proper forgery probably isn't the way to do that (though Karkat would like to think she'd do it because she likes him enough).

 

*

 

Despite the ardent shake of her head, Chixie's still glowing.

"I'm finally free! Why would I ever want to be indebted to another highblood? I'll seriously do something very bad if another Blueblood tries to boss me around -- uh, no offense." She tosses the comment over her shoulder to Marvus, who chuckles.

"None taken, babe. It's yours. Don't need no filthy Blue fronds on it to make it 'official'." Marvus would be stupid to deny his place as a highblood.

Chixie gives Karkat another squeeze, careful of the grubling growing inside him, before returning the deed and hopping off, chatting excitedly with Marvus over set lists, performers, and all sorts of things.

The Bronzeblood's sudden outburst doesn't go unnoticed, Gamzee and Lanque sidling up to the mutant.

"What crawled up her nook? Must be good." The Jadeblood mutters, while Gamzee addresses Karkat.

"Ain't you cute? You feeling up to going down to the caves? It's where grubs hatch and spin themselves cocoons." The Indigoblood looks excited, even if Lanque scoffs quietly.

"It's a disgusting, abhorrent little nest for those pests -- and I took your mate there when he was a wriggler. He let the grubs climb all over him while making these... upset... bleating noises." Lanque hides a smile behind his hand, claws perfectly manicured.

Gamzee sighs, the sound nearly verging onto a hiss.

"You gonna hold that on me 'til one of us dies, ain't you?"

"Yes," Lanque answers, unashamed, "because you don't give me a lot to work with. I'll take what I can get. Anyway, shall we? The sooner this is over with, the sooner I can stop dreading it."

 

*

 

Karkat...can't deny Vriska would hold a favor over somebody, and he forgets that the way his connections work don't work for everybody else, as good his intentions might be. Plus Chixie just dodged a blue bullet, so he's not that surprised that she'd turned his Cerulean's help down-- nor does he want to know what Chixie means by ' very bad'.

So, he'll just do his best.

He gets another slight hug before she's off, a literal bounce in her steps while talking to Marvus with performer's jargon. Karkat realizes he'd forgotten to ask for some of her Bronze-- nothing more official-making than blood, but he can do that later once he does the rest of the document.

Karkat turns as Gamzee and Lanque appear, a brightening grin on his face as he tucks the document into the file in his bag. "Just some good luck in spite of my poorly made insight," he says, facing Gamzee, "I'm up for it."

They must have been coming to the cloister often when they picked up Karako, being that Lanque shares a piece of memory; Karkat can almost see it, a smaller, grub-faced Gamzee panicking as he's swarmed by harmless grubs, chortling behind his hand.

"Really? Don't tell me they ganged up and swarmed you," though he can understand, if someone's not used to seeing grubs it probably is a little frightening to have a bunch of them crawl on them.

Though he snorts at their Jade guide, "Why Lanque, you sure sound like you've never been a grub in your entire life." No matter how much disdain is in his voice, Karkat has a hard time believing Lanque hates the caves and grubs as much as he makes it sound like he does.

Karkat of course has never been to a grub cave, but he imagines it can't be that much different than grubsitting....a whole lot of grubs at once. Then again, Karkat's only grubsat one or two at a time, and they're usually asleep most of the time, so he doesn't really have much to go on.

Can't be that bad, surely.

 

*

 

"No, I was once a disgusting little worm -- and if I'd known I'd be cloistered, I wish someone would've stepped on me." He laughs, sauntering off.

Gamzee follows, taking his mate's hand.

"I didn't wanna make no trouble with 'em. Y'know how soft grubs are. 'Sides, we wasn't even supposed to be there." He tries to excuse himself although, really, he'd been dealing with the way their little legs gripped onto him, and how eager some of the grubs were to latch onto his cool skin.

Lanque hardly prepared him for any of that.

After some time walking through a series of winding tunnels, they emerge out into a huge cave -- larger than any other one they've seen -- with stalactites and stalagmites abound, rocky outcroppings, and more.

There are Lusii, both large and small, snuffling for wrigglers to adopt.

There are also plenty of eggs, grubs, and cocoons -- hardly any new pupae, since those get taken by a Lusus once they've hatched.

In the distance, he can see the outline of the Mothergrub, and a line of drones dropping off pails of slurry.

Lanque slides down a slope, and moves to a damper, darker section of the cave; it's mostly empty save for a single bug-eyed, Purple grub.

Gamzee helps Karkat down the slope, and goes over to where Lanque is, his back pressed to the wall.

It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust but, when they do, he sees the small grub. The thing tries to puff up its body, pathetically hissing; Gamzee crouches down and offers out a finger for the grub to latch on to.

Even if it's a Purple grub, all it can do is make his finger sting a bit with all its incessant gnawing.
"Karkat, come take a gander at this lil' motherfucker." He whispers, trying not to spook the grub. It's a little ball of instincts and he's certain a highblood doesn't make it feel safe whatsoever.

 

*

 

He supposes making trouble would have in fact been non-ideal, considering Bronya's preference for the grubs to be as un-squashed as possible; though, Gamzee seems like he's trying to brush off the bit about him freaking out, which Karkat's going to take as he absolutely freaked out.

It's a long way through the tunnels, Lanque seeming to know on instinct-- or habit --exactly where to turn and which forking path to take. Bringing them into another section of cave, Karkat could say it's nearly ten of the gathering block, and it would have to be. Allowing a variety of Lusii in to look over the pupae, grubs, or cocoons, waiting to pick their charge to take along.

Kanaya says Karkat was a grub when his Lusus brought him to the village, though he wonders if the old crab came to wait at a cavern like this. Whatever cavern had overlooked a Redblood grub had allowed him to be here like this, purposely or not.

Down the opposite way Lanque is taking them, Karkat glances at the massive silhouette of what must be the Mother Grub-- he guesses, though the line of drones gives it away.

The drones are a different matter. Their village is too small and unimportant that they hardly see a drone, but whenever one did come, Kanaya has always kept Karkat in the hive, he assumes the same was done for the other breeders; there are a number of things he gets told about drone-behavior around breeder trolls (breeders being mistaken for a Mother Grub is common, and the tales range from them being stolen away to take slurry or something tamer as being brought minor gifts and things), none he's keen on finding out whichever are true, wary and squeezing Gamzee's hand.

They come down a literal slope, Lanque sliding with an ease and grace Karkat can't even attempt; on the brighter side, he's got Gamzee to help him down, holding his hand all the way to a much dimmer part of the cave (if this were an even block, Karkat would call it the corner of the cavespace). It's dark enough that it takes some time to adjust, but as things clear up, sure as the moons there's a Indigo grub there.

It's huffing and puffing, trying to look all big and bad and scary despite being utterly unable while hissing into a fit. Those big compound eyes are on Gamzee, watching where he moves, soon fixated on the offered digit, sniffing through small nasal slits (it won't have a proper nose until after it's first pupation) before going back to hissing, baring tiny little egg-fangs that won't hardly do a thing to anyone no matter how much it wants to.

Eventually, comically, it does end up latching onto Gamzee's finger, throwing it's segmented body with it's all to get it's mouth nibbling away at flesh that won't give, getting three out of six leg-claws to grapple onto the rest of Gamzee's hand, trying for a fourth. Karkat huffs out a short chuckle, moving slow and careful so the grub isn't agitated by too much or too sudden movement.

It's not like he's never dealt with an awake grub, it was just rare. Cavern grubs though might be a little different than what he's used to, makes him wonder if the same things he knows applies.

While it's on Gamzee, Karkat crouches next to his mate, getting close enough that he can blow gentle puffs toward it, the grub distractedly gnawing on it's claimed digit. Gotten the grub's attention, Karkat slowly reaches his own hand out, mindfully moving and cooing out a soft squeeee, and then a louder, warbly chirp, seeing if it'd release Gamzee for any interest in him.

 

*

 

Gamzee's careful not to so much as twitch his finger, his claw settled in a maw he could easily pierce and rip to pieces. The grub is so vulnerable, its horns aren't even hard; he can faintly see the core running through them, more so when its legs try to grapple onto his hand.

The odd, shrill noise Karkat makes has the grub releasing his hand, toppling onto its backside. It chirps, limbs flailing in the air.

"Real pathetic motherfucker, ain't it?" Gamzee asks, reaching out to gingerly turn the grub onto its side, letting it come to rest on its own legs.

At the very least, the grub is plump, and seemingly perfectly healthy.

With a series of tapping motions, claws stabbing into the dirt, Gamzee leads the grub over to Karkat -- and its puffed-up exterior deflates. Segmented eyes rolls over the mutant, and the grub shows no qualms about crawling atop Karkat's lap.

The grub headbutts Karkat's stomach, squirms, then curls up comfortably against the soft, warm mass around it.

Gamzee chitters quietly to himself.

"Must be your breeder stink." He murmurs, now reaching a hand out for the grub to inspect.

It gives him a nip, then allows him to rub it between the eyes; between the horns. Its little legs are firmly grasping the heavy material of the robes, and Gamzee knows from experience that each and every little leg would have to be gently pried free if they wanted to get the thing off Karkat.

"Most trolls are absolutely disgusted by grubs." Lanque pipes up.

"Their faces, bodies, and limbs are disgusting -- and they make an excessive mess. The first time I brought Gamzee to the caverns, I expected him to start kicking grubs across the floor." The memory has him smiling, even if Gamzee sends him a glare.

"What? It's true."

"Not for breeders." Gamzee keeps his own voice quiet, as if the grub has any intent to move.
It looks rather comfortable where it is -- possibly for the first time in its short life.

 

*

 

Evidently, it's never heard such a sound in it's lifespan, and Karkat is just as surprised at how quickly it lets go just to tumble backward, garnering instant pity from it's panicked flailing.

Pathetic is just one word, the poor thing trying to right itself unsuccessfully until Gamzee nudges it to it's side, alarmed chirps halting as it gets itself the right way up. Gamzee taps claws at the ground, guiding the grub in Karkat's direction, still puffed up and making something that sounds like it's supposed to be a growl-- supposed to be.

Being brought over to him, the grub all but deflates as it snuffles closer, seeming less agitated and more curious. Curiouser still as it seems to have no problem with Karkat, going so far as to pull it's body into his lap and make his insides meltdown. The grub simply burrows into the fabric and curls up right there in his lap.

"It probably is," Karkat nods, remembering back to when he'd grubsit for other breeders and trolls who'd wound up picking a grub to look after. Can feel how it clutches into the robes, and unless someone scruffed it from behind it's head, it's going to be a hard time prying the little thing off.

It's probably only instinct but Karkat doesn't think he'd mind that so much.

The grub settles right there on his lap, now only nipping at Gamzee instead of outright biting him, letting his mate go so far as to stroke along it's head. When Karkat does it, just to see if it's used to him, he doesn't even get nipped, almost pushing up into Karkat's fingers.

"There probably is a breeder troll out there who absolutely hates the thought of grubs," he muses, unable to stop his lips from curving, "There were five other breeders in my village, all grown adults too, though only one wasn't having grubs. Whether or not she hated the thought wasn't really anyone's business, or rather it was a topic that got hushed down rather quickly."

He wants to see if he could probably walk around with the grub clinging to his robes. "Anyway, point is, living in a community like that, there was always a grub at some point in the sweep, and you pick up a lot from grubsitting."

As if to agree, Karkat's pleased to hear the grub emit a squeaky chirp, knowing that it doesn't have a damn clue what's going on.

 

*

 

"Your village got a lotta breeders." Gamzee muses, slowly working a hand underneath the grub.

Rather than a flurry of hissing and spitting, he gets a few lazy nibbles, appendages closing around his arm. The grub stiffens as he lifts it, but only for a moment.

Gamzee's sure that, if moved too far from Karkat, it'd start to become more aggressive; all he does is transfer the grub onto his mate's shoulder, letting its small legs keep it attached to the thick robe.

"I'd suppose she just loved taking it up the chute too much, and might've been frightened of the laying process -- that is, having a live grub crawl its way out of your nook. You know that, right? Not very sexy, in my opinion -- but nothing about you is particularly attractive, biological imperatives aside. Gravid or otherwise." The grub clings to Karkat, and Gamzee helps his mate to his feet.

"Good thing we'll be outta your hair 'fore my mate gets gravid, then, ain't it?" Gamzee retorts, helping Karkat to his feet.

Lanque gingerly taps his eye, probably fixing his make-up; he's the first out of the pit, and glad for it.

Gamzee helps Karkat out, and climbs up after his mate.

"Let's take the lil' motherfucker to get named by Chahut -- only fitting, I think, 'cause she named Marvus, me, and the twins. Karako already came with a name, so," he shrugs, "and if any troll'd want to see this one, it'd be Sister Chahut."

Lanque hums.

"You're taking it, then? Adding another burden to your caravan? You've already got two breeders, an invalid, and two pupae." Lanque looks over his shoulder as he guides them back through the twisting cave system.

"Keep running your mouth like that and I'll gut the Mothergrub." Gamzee threatens this as casually as if he were paying Lanque a compliment.

"You wouldn't dare." Lanque almost sounds shocked.

"Why not? Those lumps of slurry ain't sacred to me. I don't wanna have to give my genetic material over to 'em in my lifetime." He'd much rather stuff Karkat with his material, and he's sure the breeder is acutely aware of it.

 

*

 

"Mmh," Karkat hums, "we'd get a tradestroll every now and then who says that, and I guess it has to be true, that it really is different in other villages," he says, remembering Chixie telling him that her village didn't have a breeder. It was something most visitors remarked at, though Karkat never really thought much of it.

Gamzee lifts the grub from his lap, hardly putting up a fight when it'd been so hostile toward him earlier, little legs reaching right for Karkat as it's brought level with his shoulder, grappling to the robe and burrowing at the side of his neck.

Karkat is only stopped from calling it a sweet thing out loud to throw a completely scandalized look at Lanque-- he knows he was just telling Gamzee about that Bronzeblood breeder from his village on their way here but even that part hadn't left his mouth, how the fuck did Lanque hit right on the money without so much as knowing!?

Luckily, Karkat latches onto the other topic just so that he doesn't go full steamy red just from thinking about such a thing.

"Good thing then it's not you who's supposed to find me any kind of sexy or attractive. Though from how you keep bringing it up, a troll could think otherwise." Karkat says with his mock innocence, sticking his tongue out and making a face.

"And how many breeder troll layings have you been at, exactly? The grub doesn't crawl out unless it's been inside longer than it should be." Not.. that Karkat has been explicitly present whenever Kanaya was assisting with delivery, since he wasn't invited by the laying troll nor asked for help by his caretaker, but being a nosy little brat he did... peek ...just to see what was happening.

He's thinking of Kanaya a lot, being in the caverns. Karkat reminds himself of a question he's always wanted to ask, and since he's right here at a cloister, he's got every opportunity to. Though, Lanque probably isn't the troll he wants to ask. Probably be more fruitful to go to Bronya, being that she's the Matron.

As they climb out of the little pit, Gamzee suggests taking the grub to Chahut, and Karkat doesn't need much convincing, since once he says it Karkat only thinks that's the thing to do. She'd probably like to meet the grub, before she goes to spin.

Lanque says two breeders like he didn't pull Xia up to go dance, Karkat raising a brow and setting his lips while he tells them what they already know; they're pretty vulnerable to be traveling, and that's not counting that Chahut is going to be out of commission for a bit.

That Gamzee throws back such an absurd threat ....maybe not so absurd, being that he just might and probably could do it that Lanque actually sounds a touch shocked has Karkat half snorting behind his hand and half glancing to Gamzee in disbelief that he'd even thinks such a thing. Only belatedly realizing the implication of Gamzee not giving the Mother Grub his geneslime and trying to get the blood to stop rushing to his face.

It could be sweet in a way, in a very implicated and naughty way, but also.....

 

*

 

His mate's reddening complexion gives Gamzee endless delight, while Lanque raises a brow.

"Good Stars, you've fucked in the caverns, haven't you?" He slows his gait, more than willing to extend this conversation.

Gamzee slings his arm round Karkat's waist, pleased with the soft warmth at his side.

"We're mated, motherfucker. I'll fuck my mate wherever and however the fuck I please. Too bad for you, I ain't keen on having audiences. Whatever sorry excuse for a bulge you got'd probably shrivel next to mine, and your nook ain't half as juicy as my mate's." The comment has Lanque flushing for a moment, surprised to hear Gamzee be so vulgar -- sexually vulgar, that is.

"Don't know it 'til you try it. You've only ever fucked one troll." As the cave system opens up, he pats Gamzee on the cheek, and gives Karkat a much lighter, fleeting pat atop the head in parting.

"Don't disappoint me!" He calls behind himself, leaving the two alone.

The grub's been nestled into Karkat's neck the whole time, not minding anything so long as the mutant's sugary scent envelops it.

It doesn't take them long to find Chahut, who's up in the nursery. Gamzee trills for her at the opening of the block, and she rises almost immediately, worry on her features until she finds Karkat looking perfectly healthy -- and the fat, purple little blob trying to burrow into Karkat's neck.

"Now," she begins, a serene smile settling itself on her lips, "who's that lil' motherfucker?" She asks, gaze flitting from Karkat to Gamzee.

"We want you to name it." Gamzee blurts out, although Chahut was expecting as much.

Quietly, she chirrs and trills, until the grub is looking at her. It nips at her extended hand, but is coaxed closer to her with a quick series of clicks.

When she has the grub clinging to her forearm, running her thumb between its horns, she takes a moment to contemplate the future-troll.

"... Chitti Urkila." The grub sniffs and snuffles at her, gnawing at her hand -- not to be aggressive but to consume the silk strands. It tickles.

"What you two think on the name?"

Notes:

I don't think I got to tell you yet, I've been meaning to but I'm afraid I've been putting it off, hesitating. I think I felt like it would have become a pointless action. That I made a playlist. It's tuned to Gamkar in general, but i put in songs that especially vibed with our chats. Something I wanted to share with you, but I keep holding back. Would even that not reach you?

Would you believe I think I'm actually halfway done putting up this chat? And then when I finish, I'll move on to the next one we started. Repeat. Repeat. I really won't know what to do when I finish all of them.

I hope you're well and okay, my friend.

Chapter 30: Revelate

Notes:

my notes here must be a rollercoaster for the rest of you. I wish I was more apologetic about it than I am.

As usual, I don't intend to go on hiatus, my own feelings slingshot what little drive and motivation I have to do...anything, into the deep end. This is one of few things that end up as the collateral. Sometimes I always end up circling back to the thought that this is ultimately pointless, no matter how much hope I have or how much I wish for even some small piece of result, in the end there's no point. I'm the only one doing this by myself, wanting something by myself, feeling stupid by myself, hurting by myself. All on my own. Isn't that enough to stomp out this fruitless missive?

Still, that part that's too dumb to give up, too harsh to my own self, hauls the rest of me up and drags this body around, keeping up and enduring. So, I'm going on. That's all I can really do, for now.

Lanque makes another too-accurate guess and all of Karkat's effort of not blushing is ultimately wasted. Gamzee more or less confirms it along with a slew of mild filth-- and boy is Karkat glad this grub can't understand words yet.

His own arm comes around Gamzee, where Karkat can reach anyway, trying not to look like he absolutely can't look anyone in the eye because that look on Lanque's face is priceless.
They're back to more familiar tunnels and a familiar block, Lanque departing since he's no longer needed as a guide. Despite all of that and Karkat being concerned he might have gotten too heated for the grub, the little thing is fine, as docile as a wool-fluff and twice as precious, nestling as it does into the warmth of Karkat's skin.

Chahut is easy to find, figuring she'd be in the nursery. It's so nice to see all that worry melt off into one of her usual smiles at the sight of the grub. Gamzee comes right out with what they want, Karkat shifting to help get the grub's attention toward Chahut, seeing it climb from him to her hand. Little legs grip securely on her arm with it's face pressed to Chahut's skin-- Karkat realizes to nibble at strands of silk while she thinks of a name for it.

He hums in thought, smiling brightly at Chahut, "Sounds like a fine name to me. Don't you think so, Gamzee?"

 

*

 

"Y'know Marvus gonna be calling 'em some shit like 'Lil' Killa' with that name, right?" He doesn't sound displeased -- far from it -- and Chahut holds back her laughter to avoid startling the grub.
He bends, pressing a firm kiss to his mate's cheek.

"It's a fine name, and I know we're gonna have just as fine a name for our grubling, too."

Chahut, for her part, coos and chirrs to the grub, offering her other hand when it begins to snuffle for more silk.

"Already eatin' off me... Feels like I was meant to be a breeder, some nights, for how all you Young Ones nestle yourselves in the gristle of my pusher." The grub huffs and squeaks contentedly, small mouth working overtime.

Despite her size, Chahut handles the grub with extreme care -- she could've made an excellent Jadeblood, it seems -- and, letting the grub gnaw on its latest mouthful of silk, returns the newly-named grub to Karkat's shoulder.

It makes a noise of protest which quickly dies down as Karkat's warmth and scent lull it into a calm.

"Forgive a Sister her curiosity, but do you two have a name for your grublin'?" She's nearly beaming, and not bothering to be very subtle about it.

"Not like I'd intrude upon the most motherfuckin' sanctified of connections... Just idle curiosity... Perhaps somethin' to dwell on in my cocoon." Her smile even reaches her eyes, and Gamzee chirrs in response.

He hadn't thought much about it, but...

"Maybe Karava." The blood-name is a no-brainer; even if it comes out as red as Karkat.

"Ain't hardly thought on it, though," he turns his cheek to Karkat, the mutant now surrounded by Indigobloods, "and my mate and I ain't got to hashing it out. I mean, can barely feel the lil' motherfucker in there."

Chahut nods along, the most at-ease she's been all night.

"Sister Zhen been instructin' me on the... processes. Gestation and birth. Pan rot's a shame, but The Mirthful Messiahs must feel her sufferin', and seek to alleviate it. Ain't that so?" She asks, and Gamzee nods.

"Must be so."

 

*

 

It seems they're all pleased with the name, though their now-named grub just seems happy enough to chew on silk. The sight is something else, Chahut almost delicately handling the grub with all her serene slowness, smiling genuinely as she watches it pick at loose strands, squeaking as it does.

"You'd probably have been the strongest breeder I'd have met if you were," Karkat is willing to bet there are Purpleblood breeders out there, it's probably just a very, very, rare occurrence, especially with that kind of survival rate.

She's so careful maneuvering the grub, now Chitti, back to Karkat's shoulder, holding still for her until the grub is settled, only making minor protests before nuzzling back against his neck.

Karkat's attention perks at the question, the thought having yet to actually cross his mind-- his mate surprising him that he's got a maybe-name in mind. Gamzee more or less says what he's thinking, Karkat nodding along, "We haven't thought about it yet." The egg can't even be felt unless someone pokes and prods at his belly some, and it'll be a while before the grubling breaks the egg to attach directly to him.

At the mention of Zhen, Karkat's smile moves to something of concern, despite his delight at this being the most he's seen Chahut show a genuine smile, spirits seeming to be lifted about her oncoming pupation.

"How...how is she? Has she been alright?"

 

*

 

Chahut chuckles, enjoying her relatively clean hands.

"Little One's tryin' to climb out the 'coon so often, our Limeblooded friend needs to physically push her down. No doubt a weak one -- or, perhaps Limebloods were another caste oddity... Ain't my place to tell." She shrugs, ear twitching when she hears the sound of slime sucking against skin.

This, followed by Xia's hushed, stern voice.

"Oi! Stay in the damn slime!" Chahut peeks her head in, gesturing for Karkat and Gamzee to do so, if they please.
Xia's pressing Zhen back into the slime, although her head isn't submersed; the bandage around her horn has been changed.

"I'm fine." She insists, voice heavy and relaxed from the sopor.

"You're not fine." The Limeblood lowers a raised stump back into the green goop, thinking vaguely about the merits of shoving a handful into Zhen's mouth.

It'd put her to sleep -- and probably just serve to rot her pan even further.

 

"Stop trying to pap me with your stump. I'm not mad. You just need to stay in your damn recuperacoon, because we sure as fuck aren't going to have these when we travel." Xia mutters, and Zhen clicks at her, sinking up to the neck in sopor slime.

"But I'm fine. It's just a horn. Barely even hurts anymore -- and I can take whatever pain this plane has to give." She sounds like a scolded wriggler.

The greenish bags beneath Xia's eyes give away her earlier tears and frustrations, the ones that overflowed after confronting Karkat, and she sits heavily upon a stool, now.

"You need The Grand Highblood to protect you." She says, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"So do you." Zhen offers up with a quiet laugh.

 

Chahut takes this time to enter the block properly.

"Havin' trouble keepin' your clown in her slime? Might be Brothers Karkat and Gamzee could be of service." Although Xia looks tired and worn, she shrugs.

"Just don't touch her horn. Or hornbed. Just leave that whole area alone."

 

*

 

Further into the nursery, he can hear Zhen quietly slurring and Xia scolding back, the sound of sopor glopping back into..well, sopor.

As Chahut said, Xia is literally shoving Zhen back into the slime, at the very least to her neck being submerged; the patch-up bandage Karkat had done has been thankfully changed and applied with hopefully better medicine.

Zhen looks as lax as her voice sounds, maybe even sounds as youthful as she looks-- in the way a pupa would after being scolded, and Xia looks tired, almost slumped on the stool placed by the recuperacoon. As they approach, Karkat more timidly than Gamzee or Chahut (feels like he shouldn't be near either of them. Karkat didn't break Zhen's horn but he may as well have with his ill-choices and overall uselessness), Xia acknowledges them, giving a non-committal shrug. Karkat can't tell if she wants him there or not (at least in the caravan, when Karkat ran out of things to do that he sat and worried over the both of them, she would tell him to quit bothering her, just let her sleep).

Chitti squeaks into his neck, Karkat tilting his chin as it moves and turns, now facing out front this time but keeping under Karkat's jaw, slightly chirring and probably picking up on Xia.
He doesn't ask Xia if Zhen's alright-- Zhen is probably numbed out enough that whatever pain there is, she isn't feeling it now. Xia may not look mad, but there's still some sort of upset she has, Karkat feels, and of course for good reason, he almost doesn't know what to say.

".......Did you eat anything yet?" His voice is only tinged with a waver but Karkat digs into his bag for Xia's sticky roll, being that he'd been too much of a wuss after getting rightfully scolded to seek her out.

 

*

 

Xia glances up to Karkat, watching him rifle through his bag.

"Your Brood-Clown brought me some food. Refuses to leave me alone. Although, if that makes her feel better about her pupation, then I'm not about to complain -- she's pretty useful." The Limeblood still takes the sticky roll, eyeing the grub eyeing her right back.

"Thanks." She opens the wrapping, slicking a dollop of honey onto her finger.
This is offered to the grub, who sucks on her finger and starts up a sort of rumbling purr that shakes its entire little body.

Xia's lips twitch, a half-noise caught in her throat, and she removes her finger once the grub's sucked clean the sugary honey.

"What a sweetie." She muses, ripping off a chunk of the bun to pop into her own mouth.

She thinks of her own grub, not near as fat and healthy -- but it was new. Fresh into the world. She'd wanted to scream and cry when she saw its body reflect her own colours -- and Zhen says she babbled, post-birth, about giving The Grand Highblood a 'proper' grub next time -- but Xia doesn't put stock into that.

Even if she had, she'd just birthed a grub. Her mind was nowhere near where it should be.

"Name?" She asks, vibrant eyes on Karkat.

"You're going to keep your own grubling too, right? That one looks ready to spin. It looks like it's gained enough weight." Chitti's maw opens, and the grub begins gnawing away at Karkat's robe.
It's never had so much of anything in its entire life.

 

*

 

"Chitti..Urkila," Karkat says, relief getting his body to relax and not be so stiff-- if Xia is still upset with him, she must be holding it back-- Karkat wouldn't not be upset with himself, if it were him.

Nerves aside, Chitti seems pleased as punch, purring so strongly it shakes it's whole body, probably never had something as sweet as honey before. That almost smile doesn't go unnoticed, not by Karkat anyway, almost grinning himself.

He wonders, somewhere in the back of his head, if seeing this grub makes Xia think of her own. It's must be hard, to lose a grub. Karkat can't say every grub born and laid in his village made it successfully, as much as he would like to. None were even Kanaya's fault, that some grubs just couldn't make it, whether if they couldn't take a breath, or were already dead inside, or even those that made it for a few nights just to pass on. He can't even imagine it for himself, doesn't think he could handle it well.

"Mmh, I am." Though Karkat hadn't realized what Xia was saying, that the grub was already close to it's own pupation-- was just chalking it up to being a healthy, chunky grub, "It is?" His gaze flicks down, Chitti having moved again, now nibbling at the Jade robes Karkat has on, his hand coming up to press and pet between the horns.

"Well look at you, hm?" This is directed to the grub, "Better make sure you're all fed up before you start making you're own silk." As if Chitti understands anything being said at it, it chirps and goes right back to figuring if the Jade robes are tasty or not; seeing how it gives up and makes a squeak of a sneeze, probably not.

 

*

 

Xia holds back another smile, offering her hand out to Chitti.
The grub, half-dazed from its sneeze, crawls onto her — a slightly cooler breeder, but she’s noticed her own scent ripening as her body stores up sugars.

Carefully, Xia turns Chitti onto its back.

“There are a lot of signs that a grub’s ready to pupate, like gaining weight, horns hardening; one of the most surefire methods of determining that is to see if the grub has begun to harden,” she gently taps the exposed underbelly of the grub, “here.” Chitti allows its little legs to splay up and open, only fussing once Xia’s put the grub right-side up on her arm.

“When you grow up with a booknerd like Zhen, and you’re a breeder, you learn a lot of useless shit.” Chitti nibbles at her hair, its legs digging into her skin.

“She’d probably tell you the exact date to expect this grub to spin — alongside what to feed a new pupa — oh...” She blinks, gaze moving slowly over Chahut and Gamzee.
Chahut takes Gamzee over to Barzum’s cocoon, where the twin sleeps soundly.

“Are you going to try to nurse Chitti?” Xia keeps her voice low, leaning in so Karkat can hear her better.

“It’s the most reliable source of sugar when traveling, but... caring for a new pupa and a new grub might be taxing on your body. I don’t know. I hope you’ll be settled somewhere safe by the time you have your grub.” Chitti’s even breathing beside her ear makes her want to curl up in a pile with the grub, although she knows it isn’t hers.

Chitti’s returned to Karkat, where the overstimulated grub barely stirs.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out. You’ve got a lot of reliable trolls with you. I’d ask if you’d like to see Zhen, but... She’ll try to get out of the sopor again. She was babbling something about you being hurt — that’s just her pan rot, isn’t it?”

 

*

 

Karkat watches with learning interest, how Xia moves Chitti to show him; if he hadn't been stolen by Eridan, he's sure he'd have eventually learned things like this from the adult breeders in his village (Kanaya has technical and medical books, some heavy cavern tomes, and if Karkat had any inkling he was going to be kidnapped away from her like this, he'd have spent time reading more of that instead of trashy smut...maybe).

It must be the fact that they're breeders, that Chitti warms right up to Xia as well, inching it's chubby body up her arm until it's trying to nestle at her neck too, tugging on strands of hair. That Xia is continually fighting a smile even though Karkat knows she wants to makes the sight all the more wholesome.

Chahut takes Gamzee out of earshot, and Karkat guesses that their next topic is meant to be a quiet one. Both brows going up at what it is, "O-Oh, well I....," Karkat knew they were going to figure out somehow someway to feed the grub. He hadn't thought about nursing, though..., "I didn't even think about that. N-Not that I'm against it, but it hadn't even come to mind because...," he can feel his face flushing just a bit, hands awkwardly gesturing to his still flat chest, pulling the robes tight over his front to show how there's nothing, his chest doesn't even ache yet, like he's heard other breeders feel when sap starts storing up.

"I suppose we will figure it out when we get to that point," That Xia says such a thing, plus hoping that they'll be somewhere safe by the time he'll pop touches on a bit of his heart, offering a reassuring smile, "Thank you. We'll get you back to The Grand Highblood before you can even worry about your grub." He hopes so too, anyway. Xia should at least get to spend some time with her mate without stressing.

"I wouldn't want to bother her then, especially if you just got her to stay in the sopor," Karkat says, letting Chitti settle back to where it wants. Blinking at the implication that he'd been hurt-- he's for the most part unharmed only thanks to Zhen.

"I'd say I was just to spite the panrot, but I'm not even scratched. At least I don't think so anyway." If Karkat wasn't so weak, maybe he could have protected and prevented Zhen from her horn being broken-- he's glad that he broke off both of Zebruh's, and now a little annoyed with himself that he didn't think to take his horns with him.

 

*

 

"Oh, right... I guess, since I've already carried, and I'm a female troll... I'll ask Zhen if that has anything to do with it when she's in her right mind. I've been carrying longer than you have, anyways." Xia's pretty sure she knows when Karkat was bred, but she's not going to say anything about that.

She knows just how mortifying it is to have that information available to everyone and anyone.

"Not that you're lacking. You have a better figure than I do. It was a pain to store up enough sugar the first time, and I wanted to bite the fronds off anyone who came near my nest -- besides Zhen and my mate." She hopes she'll be less irritable this time around, but she'd already suffered a bit on the journey over to the cloister.
Xia chuckles quietly.

"If a Navyblood scratched you, you'd notice. The jump in strength from a Cerulean to a Navy is fucking ridiculous -- and then you have clowns. My entire last carry, Zhen kept telling me to be careful with my pupa. Apparently, their fangs are already sharp enough to pierce the skin of lowbloods." Xia never got to find out -- doubly so because her grub was Limeblooded -- but she likes to think it would've been a well-behaved troll.

 

Unlike a certain someone who, now covered in sopor and ready to sleep for the day, groggily toddles over to Karkat.

Without Baizli around, and with her eyes covered, she takes careful steps, hands out.

"Karkat?" She asks, bumping into Xia's hip instead.

The Limeblood redirects Barzum, giving her a gentle push over to Karkat.

The pupa knows she's with Karkat from the sheer heat emanating from the mutant; she smiles, smearing sopor on Karkat's robes when she wraps her arms around the breeder.

"Thank-you for the sweetened circular roll! Baizli and Wanshi also say thanks -- I know for sure Baizli does. Wanshi probably does." Gamzee and Chahut are sat beside the empty recuperacoon, not too bothered. Xia returns to Zhen's side, peeking into her recuperacoon.

 

*

 

Karkat nods, then snorts at being told his figure is better, his tone becoming playful, "Now why would you lie to me like that when you've got some nice muscle built on?"

He knows he'd have loved to have at least some kind of muscle, anything is better than what he's got now-- which is zilch (Karkat used to have the pipe dream of becoming a soldier, and whatever deities that may be saw to it that he be an example of not getting his hopes up).

"I guess I would know by now if I'd gotten anything," Karkat chuckles, though he is curious, since Zhen was still somewhat in her mind when Karkat bandaged her stumped horn and had her lean on him as they met back with Marvus and Chixie, how she'd thought he'd been hurt.

"Really? I know they've still got egg-fangs at that point, but that's a strong bite for egg-teeth." Then again, Barzum and Baizli already have proven themselves able to fight against something as big as a beast, Karkat shouldn't be that surprised that even after the first pupation an Indigoblood would be strong.

Thinking of Barzum, they take notice of one drowsy sopor-coated pupa ambling over, Barzum's eyes wrapped up for the day since she's supposed to be sleeping.

"I'm here," Karkat calls gently, chuckling as Barzum bumps into Xia-- and just like with Chitti, she's gentle and soft even while facing the pupa the right direction, arms reaching toward him that Karkat gingerly tugs until he's got slimy wriggler all at his front.
"I'm happy you enjoyed it, sweetness. Is your brother holding on to your chocolates for you?" He figures if not Baizli, then probably Bronya. Or Barzum has her own way to stash it. "Shouldn't you be sleeping? Pretty sure that's why you're all covered in sopor." Karkat would try and pick her up, but he's not confident with all the slime in the way, already feeling slippery enough just by holding her. Xia's turned to check on Zhen, and Barzum looks like she might fall asleep standing up if she stays right there, feeling her face try and bury into the robes.

Getting the pupa to stand on top of his feet, Karkat begins gradually walking her back over to the recuperacoon, "Well, since you are awake, do you wanna meet someone?" Karkat gets her just shy of Gamzee and Chahut before stopping, carefully nudging Chitti, who's roused enough to peer from his shoulder at Barzum, a light little chirr of interest sounding from it.

 

*

 

She nods, her smile turning secretive.

“We hid them in a place no one will ever find!” She giggles excitedly, being walked back on Karkat’s own legs.

With her feet back on the ground, she nods — and then her mouth drops into an ‘o’ of surprise.

“You got the grub!” She looks excited enough to start bouncing around the room, but instead reaches up, trying and failing to locate the grub.

Chitti looks ready to puff up again, snuggling up to Karkat’s neck as if intent on protecting a being far larger and far more capable than himself.

 

Barzum, however, lowers herself onto her heels, and starts to chirr and chitter and chirp.

The Indigoblooded grub answers certain noises in kind, until the grub has calmed down and returns to resting on Karkat’s shoulder.

Barzum has a pleased smile plastered over her face.

“That’s how Baizli and I talked to each other before we learned to use words. Not that we had to use words, but hearing nothing for nights was so, so boring. I bet we can teach the grub how to talk like us!” She takes two steps back, hitting the edge of her shallow ‘coon.

“What’s its name?”

“Chitti Urkila.” Chahut rumbles, wholly satisfied.

“Sister Chahut picked the name, like she picked your name, and Baizli’s name, and my name.” Gamzee adds, Barzum trying to fight off fatigue.

“Who’s going to name your grub?” She asks, even while Chahut lifts her into her cocoon.

“That grub, Little One, will be made of Karkat and Gamzee. It’s only fittin’ for them to name their own... don’t you agree?” She settles a heavy hand atop the pupa’s head.

“I guess so. It’ll be so nice to have more playmates! Baizli’s excited, too!”

 

*

 

"Oh? Better not forget about it before march-bugs find it; once they do it's hard to get rid of them." Karkat hums in half-amusement, half-serious-- no one here wants any kind of march-bug infestation.
Though once Barzum hears Chitti, she's all awe and growing excitement, little hands stretching up. Chitti however is not as excited as Barzum, Karkat feeling it bunching up it's segments, trying huff and puff a fit like it's trying to be big and bad-- utterly pitiable. That has Barzum relax, making chirrs and chirps at the grub until it responds in kind, having some kind of conversation together and being damn adorable about it.

Chitti calms down enough that it's no longer trying to make itself big, settling once again on his shoulder, nuzzling into Karkat's neck.

Barzum is nothing short of a very pleased beam, toddling backwards to her recuperacoon.

"You think so? Mmh, if anybody's clever enough to, it'd be the both of you," Karkat muses, rubbing his chin gently over the grub, "What do you think?" he chirrs. Chitti chirps back like it knows what's going on.

Chahut seems very pleased with the name she picked, telling Barzum; Karkat learning that not only was Gamzee named by her, but the twins as well (was it also through divine revelation that she knew Gamzee was part of The Grand Highblood's line?).

Barzum gets plucked up and laid back into the 'coon, fatigue and the need for sleep winning out, while Karkat is reminded that he and Gamzee will need to ponder a name between themselves.

"Even if all the grubs from me come out Purple, you'll still need to be careful, because they're grubs. That goes for Chitti too," Karkat says lightly, mindful that she needs to sleep. He himself can't wait, though Karkat doesn't know if it's the same kind of excitement that Barzum exudes, or if he's more apprehensive about what's to come.

 

Perhaps a bit of both.

 

*

 

“I know.” Barzum whines, wriggling down into the shallow slime.
It doesn’t take long for her breathing to even out, at which point Chahut stands.

“A Sister ought to get to spinnin’ herself a ‘coon...” She murmurs, to which Gamzee hops to his feet.
Although he takes Karkat by the waist, guiding him out of the nursery, he stops at the cave entrance.

“You don’t gotta come out.” He says, watching Chahut climb into the back of the merchant caravan.

“I mean, you got Chitti. Lil’ motherfucker might wanna eat.” He scritches the grub between its horns, its body undulating as it breathes.

“Could eat Chahut’s silk, but, y’know, that’s hers.” Maybe they could take some broth, or a piece of fruit?

Gamzee’s not actually sure how much grubs eat.

“Anyway,” he gives his mate a quick squeeze, “I get if you wanna stay in here with our newest addition. Tonight been awful eventful for you.”

 

*

 

Once Barzum is settled and dozing, they quietly file out of the nursery, Karkat thinking through a bunch of things he knows to help the pupation be as comfortable as possible.
Gamzee stops at the entrance to the caves, Chahut continuing on to the caravan, climbing inside-- with considerably and obviously much less effort than it had taken Karkat.

Telling Karkat he doesn't need to come, pointing out the responsibility of Chitti, which Karkat can't really dispute, whether or not he wanted to.

"I can figure that out," grubs, in Karkat's experiences, can and will try to eat anything that they can get into their tiny little maw, whether it's good for them or not; usually, they find out something is bad for them by sniffing it out or being put in it's mouth. Having grubsat, he knows very well by now what to feed them, if not sap.

"But, are you sure? I am worried about Chahut, though I'd rather she have as much silk as possible for after," if Chahut is all spun up then Chitti probably won't be able to help itself, simply because it's food and it's there.

Karkat quirks his mouth and thinks; could he ask someone? No, he's the one who asked about the grub, Chitti is his responsibility, he can't just foist the duty onto someone else so soon. His face begins to scrunch, knowing all around it'd be better for him to stay back, especially with a grub in tow.

"....You'll make sure she puts herself where she'll be comfortable, right? Not just where she'd be out of the way, but as comfortable as she can get? And-and that she undresses before she starts laying silk, right?" Sure her clothes might dissolve anyway, but it's better in the long run of things that Chahut spins bare.

 

*

 

“Of course, mate of mine.” Gamzee presses a kiss into Karkat’s plump cheek.

“I ain’t gonna let Chahut curl up in a dusty motherfucking corner. Don’t worry your pan on it. Worry your pan on Chitti and the twins.” He hasn’t missed how Karkat calls Barzum ‘sweetness’, like the pupa is his own.
With another kiss, Gamzee moves to the lip of the cave.

“Oh,” he glances over his shoulder, “why don’t you go back up into the nursery? Baizli probably sleeps ‘side Barzum’s ‘coon, and I’m sure Xia’s gonna be up there.” With that, he turns, and hops into the back of the merchant caravan.

Chahut’s already shucked off her robes, and Gamzee helps her get comfortable between the seats and the driver’s compartment; when she goes still and begins to spin, Gamzee gets to work slaughtering the Burgundybloods held underneath the caravan.

 

Baizli sneaks into the nursery, stepping past grubs, tossing down a blanket and pillow beside his twin’s cocoon.

He peeks into the cocoon, sleepy himself; it’s odd and unnatural when one of them sleeps while the other is awake.

He’s glad for his twin, though.

 

*

 

Gamzee reassures him, Karkat getting kissed twice for it as he moves to leave, follow Chahut into the carvan,

Telling Karkat he should head back to the nursery, and he probably might do that, see if he can find a piece of floor that he can spread the club deed out on, he might as well do that for Chixie while he's got time. Karkat goes just in time before he can realize the sound of trolls dying.

He probably should see to Chitti eating some food, knowing that some bites of silk and a lick of honey aren't going to cut it for the day.

Going back through the caverns, Karkat takes a wander through the kitchen block, mildly surprised and pleased that his findings come up with some leftover fruits, Chitti fully approving of a piece of sweet melon flesh on their way to the nursery, chirring and chirping happily.

 

True to Gamzee's word, Baizli has already brought himself to the nursery, seen leaning over his sister, Karkat softly chirring so not to wake Barzum, quietly pulling a nearby chair toward the twins.

"Baizli, you should be sleeping, sweet thing," Karkat whispers, though if he's up a moment longer, "Do you want to meet Chitti for yourself then?" He asks, knowing Barzum might have told him already.

 

*

 

Baizli's attention moves to Karkat, his gaze skirting the grub until the mutant brings it up.
He nods, a wide smile accenting his features.

"We talked to it earlier, but it didn't have much to say back." He pushes himself to his feet, and takes his time toddling over to Karkat and the grub.

Chitti chirps a greeting, lacking the same posturing it'd done when it met Barzum.

He'd figured as much, since they smell and look the same; since they're all but the same troll.

Baizli keeps his own chirps quiet, ending with a strained squee. He giggles when the grub clicks back at him, its mouth still baring remnants of pulped melon flesh.

"Chitti's going to be fun! We'll be nice like you said, though. We'll teach Chitti how to do its face, and how to pray -- and we'll need to get Chitti its sign after it pupates!"

 

"It'll be a Caprigo, fat little bastard. Might as well pupate on your shoulder." Zhen's weak, watery voice floats from her recuperacoon, where she leans over the edge, blinking tiredly at Karkat.

"Unless it manages to hold out for another perigee. Then it'll be a Capripia. I'm a Capricer." She mumbles, laying her head in her crossed arms.

"You know, I even combed through old tomes to find Xia's sign -- there's a whole batch of signs we no longer use. I bet Her Imperial Pissiness had them all smelted and tossed in a pit somewhere."

 

*

 

Chitti isn't as wary or intent on puffing up when meeting Baizli, Karkat wonders if it's because the twins have the same scent. It must feel comfortable enough that it chirrups out first, Karkat smiling as Baizli responds in kind.

He's picking another fruit piece out to feed Chitti when his ears perk to the sound of Zhen, seeing her awake and mostly lucid, if not for the sopor. She looks for the most part better than when Karkat last saw her lucid in pain and simple movement making her head hurt, Marvus carrying her inside.

"You think so? I'll have to read up on Purple signs, sooner rather than later." It'd be good of him to be prepared, regardless of the grub's color.
"Did you find a sign for Xia? Even if She went and burned everything to do with Limes I bet she missed more than enough for some Limebloods to have one."

 

*

 

The Indigoblood hums, laying her cheek into the crook of her arms.

"Canza." She mumbles.

"Ugly sign." Xia mutters, although she doesn't sound too put-out by it.

"Unique sign." Zhen retorts.

"Don't argue with me, you're lucky I'm not stuffing you back into your recuperacoon. I can't tell if your pan's rotting or if the sopor's making you like this." She twirls a piece of hair round her finger, glancing to Karkat.
"How does a mutant get their sign?" She crosses a leg, bouncing her foot.

"Zhen had to search for mine in old tomes that'd get her culled for reading them. Until then, I went around as a Leza. Same sign, different caste -- and I could pass decently for a weak Oliveblood. I guess they're pretty easy to pass for in general."

"I'm a Capriun!" Baizli chitters, bouncing on his heels.

"Barzum's a Caprimini -- only because she got out of her 'coon first." He deflates at the fact.

Zhen hums quietly.

"Then, you're under the sign of the Cartographer, and your twin's under the sign of the Perilous. You'll need to guide her to keep her safe. I'm under the sign of the Defender -- fitting, right?" Something of a chuckle leaves her throat, "Xia's under the sign of the Producer." Baizli looks awed, nodding.

"Karkat, your mate's under the sign of the Capricious -- I'm sure you've noticed that. Doing whatever he wants, whenever he wants..." She trails off, almost seeming to sleep before coming back around.

"Do you have a sign? If it's been recorded in history, then I bet I know about it."

 

*

 

Karkat chuckles at the exchange, acting like both long-time friends and like each other's Lusus, "You probably pass easier than me-- if someone touches me next to an actual Olive or they get a glimpse at my eyes, then I'd probably better scram."

Humming in thought, Karkat muses over the question, "I've got no actual sign-memory, but I know about when my wriggling day is." Baizli eagerly shares his and Barzum's signs, Zhen explaining it in a way that curiously fits the current situation perhaps on some level, as most signs came from the stars, or so Karkat's been told anyway; perhaps the stars really do have some sway in the way of the world.

She defines her own and Xia's, Karkat thinking that Zhen's is a little too fitting; she has lost things by defending, and that's kind of unfair if he's being honest.

When it comes to Gamzee, Karkat nearly rolls his eyes-- capricious indeed, doing as he liked most of the time without a care (if Gamzee and his ancestor likely share the sign, it means Xia also has to deal with that capriciousness in the back of his head, some wriggling feeling wants him to ask if Xia's mate ever strikes her, has ever struck her-- being that they're of the same line --, but it's eventually squashed down and put away.

"My sign, huh..," Karkat hums, beginning to dig through his bag for his signsake, "I don't have any sign-memories, at least I think I don't, but both times I was given a sign, it has felt like mine. Weird for an off-spec'd mutie, right?"

His fingers brush against a book that he doesn't remember what it is, but it's overlooked for now since it's not what he wants, going through papers and things until he's at the very bottom, grasping at a chain, the weight of metal dangling from it. "Ampora took it off of me when he kidnapped me-- the gilled-git thought I was so simple to be won over by some other piece around my neck --so when I got it back I haven't worn it in case something like that happens again." Besides, can't get kidnapped if he's with the trolls who are rumored to do the kidnapping.

"Mine is Cancer," he says with a huff, hand free of his bag and pendant in his hand. Whenever he claims it as his own, it feels like he's carrying a great weight on his back; going forward with a multitude behind him.

 

*

 

Zhen watches sleepily until Karkat pulls out his pendant.
Her lips part, and she blinks rapidly -- Xia doesn't even stop her when she lifts herself on a weak arm, leaning dangerously out of her cocoon to get a better look.

"... Sign of the Signless..." She breathes, looking like she wants to grab it, inspect its every detail, but she couldn't reach even if she planned it.
Xia looks faintly rattled, hiding it much better than Zhen.

"Can I see it closer? I won't hold it -- just bring it closer." The Indigoblood asks, Baizli settling down with his blanket to take in the sights and information.

"You and I hatched under the same moon; the green moon. If you were an Indigoblood, you'd have my sign." She lowers herself back into the slime, still wide-eyed, awed and fascinated.

"You're what's left of Limebloods. That sign is part of that caste -- and also not -- because it's the ancestral sign from which all Limeblooded signs depend, but it's never coloured. It's always grey." She presses her lips together, unable to stop herself from talking.

"You know, that was also the Last Sign. After Limebloods had been culled from the planet, that was the very last sign to be used... until now, I guess." She lets out a nervous chuckle.

 

Xia tries to match Zhen's antsy attitude with her own cool, composed one -- but she's obviously surprised.

"Huh... You could've been a Limeblood. I could've been a mutant. It's a... I think it's a very good thing that you're here. With Indigobloods."

Zhen chitters another nervous laugh.

"Duh. Hey, Karkat, do you want to know about your ancestor? All about your ancestor? You have one, and he's long, long dead, but I can tell you -- and you know Indigobloods detest lying, right? I wouldn't lie." She tries to wave Karkat over, while Xia's brows knit.

"I don't know if he needs to know all of that. Half of it is hearsay, anyway, isn't it?" She's half-whispering, vying for Zhen's attention-- trying to get her to shut it.

"Why would The Grand Highblood lie ?"

Notes:

I may have...given myself some false hope. I found a possible lead, I wasn't expecting to find it where I found it, but somehow things lined up and I foolishly thought 'maybe, maybe this time, i can reach you'. Not that I've heard anything back, so perhaps I was hasty and hopeful, once more, by myself.
Like grabbing straws, and what once seemed promising turned out to be misleading. It's hard not to be disheartened, hard to remember what a dangerous thing hope is when it becomes disappointment. Negativity attracts negativity, but it's hard to really be optimistic like this, you know?

Still, I hope it's you. I really really wish it was. It's okay if it's not but I really hope it is.

As always, I hope you're doing alright, my friend.

Chapter 31: Dissension

Notes:

Of course it took this long, why wouldn't it?

I was right. it was false hope. Of course it was, what else would there be?

Unfortunately, it tipped my scale to despair for a while. I'm afraid I'm not sorry this time either. Aren't I allowed that? I'm hurting, can't I be unapologetic for a bit?

I'm tired and I'm in pain, aren't I allowed this much?

It feels like my heart will burst some days.
There's even nothing and no one that can help me. Isn't that pitiful? It's really unfair.
All I can do is cry and complain, pretend that I'm fine, put up that wall, and then watch it break. Put it up again, just to break again.

Is this depressing? I'm not sorry about that either. It hurts, and nothing can heal it.
I am entitled to be in pain and be vindictive about it.

He'll be honest, Zhen and Xia's shocked faces are not what he was expecting, if he was expecting anything and perhaps kind of scare Karkat just a little-- only a little bit.

The only reason Karkat doesn't just balk from their reactions is that he's sitting, now nervous as he stumbles up to move closer to Zhen's recuperacoon, pendant gripped tightly but holding it out anyway. "I-I don't mind, if you hold it..," ultimately, Karkat is confused; why the fuss over his sign??

Zhen almost babbles, and Karkat would call her out on her panrot but she's too clear , despite rambling. Saying they were hatched under the same, green moon (which Karkat doesn't doubt, it's either pink or green), and they'd have the same sign; implying that his sign is so much more than it is, and Karkat doesn't know what to make of it.

Xia speculates that they very much could have been reversed, her being the blood mutant and Karkat being a caste that was wiped out.

Chitti makes a squee and a nervous chirr, probably picking up on Karkat not totally being at ease despite not knowing what was even going on, being petted and soothed at while Zhen looks over his pendant, turning to Xia; luck didn't even have much to do with anything.

Zhen continues, even saying such a thing as he's got an ancestor-- impossible --, and that there's history behind his own blood, not even swayed when Xia tries to have Zhen drop the subject.

Karkat is all ears for her to keep going it, more interested despite half the things she says feeling a little like there was at least some nonsense.

"..You....you're not being serious... are you??" he asks, feeling slightly dumbstruck, "I mean, I can't ...I shouldn't have an ancestor..."

 

*

 

" But you do ." Her smile stretches wide and sharp, and she drapes herself over the edge of her recuperacoon.

"Well, you did . He's dead. Very dead. When She decided She wanted him dead, all She had to do was snap Her fingers... and your Village Elder shot an arrow right into his pusher." Her smile is all teeth, but only for a moment.
Then, her shoulders drop, and she quietly hums.

"The Grand Highblood supported your ancestor. It wasn't like today, where we kidnap breeders; whenever they ran into each other, they courted. Flirted. The Grand Highblood won't ever say anything about it, won't say he ever laid eyes on your ancestor, but The Disciple's obsessive accounts say otherwise." She blinks her heavy lids, knowing this is hurting Karkat -- the truth is harming him -- but that's never stopped her, before.

"He disappeared for sweeps and sweeps after that. A lot of trolls thought he died. Some figured he was executed like a barkbeast -- because The Empress doesn't need two barkbeasts. She just needs the loyal barkbeast." She pauses, eyes glassy with -- something that isn't quite excitement, but agitation.

"There is nothing fair that The Executioner gets to live in a small, quaint village and pretend to repay his sins while all Indigobloods pay . While The Grand Highblood sleeps in tents like the rest of us, and lives uncomfortably -- I know he's your Elder, but there's nothing virtuous about him thinking he's righting some great wrong by hoarding you, hoarding breeders." She stands in her 'coon, slime dripping off her frail body.

"Did he forget?" She asks Karkat, eyes clearing.

"Did he forget that we aren't the monsters? That The Grand Highblood didn't loose the arrow that killed your ancestor? What right does he have to even draw breath?" When she snaps her fangs, Xia gets to her feet, forcing Zhen down into the slime.

" Enough !" She hisses, knowing Baizli's watching them, and Barzum's not shy about peeking over the lip of her recuperacoon.

"You're getting too worked up! You'll have an episode! Just lie back and go to sleep...!" The Indigoblood opens her mouth to protest, during which Xia immerses her in sopor slime.
For a moment, she struggles, but then her lungs fill with sopor, and she goes still, lids slowly falling shut.

Xia pulls her hands free, chirring to herself.

"I'm sorry." She flicks her hands into the cocoon, getting slime off her skin.

"If I knew this would happen, I wouldn't have asked. It was probably a rude question to begin with. Do you want to discuss it more, or...? I don't know as many details as Zhen. She's dedicated herself to books like a Tealblood. I'm also... not as upset about it. I'm barely upset that The Empress culled my entire caste. I'm too selfish, I guess, to really care about things like 'the bigger picture'." She turns to Karkat with clean hands.

"We can talk about something else, if you'd rather."

 

*

 

His mouth thins the more he hears, still disbelieving when Zhen says he has an ancestor-- there's no way . It's too coincidental, for there to be two mutants who are both Redbloods. Mutations come and go and show up in all kinds of ways, and while not impossible, the same mix can't be had twice like that, it just can't .

Zhen only goes on, and for Karkat she may as well be speaking in gibberish, for all that he doesn't understand anything she says, he doesn't know what to do with the information. On his shoulder, Chitti also seems to be fixed onto Zhen, but it's with a wariness, body bunched and clicking. Karkat doesn't recoil or move as she rises from the recuperacoon, slime trailing back down as her voice becomes almost frighteningly animated.

Xia ends up doing something, having had enough and saying as much, standing up to shove Zhen back into the slime. Karkat startling forward in concern when she pushes her in to the slime, Zhen fully submerged and already fallen into sleep before he can do anything about it.

"..It's alright. I'm...not sure I even really understood all of what Zhen said..," not that none of it struck any kind of chord, because it did , Karkat just doesn't understand why .

 

Because it sounded like more of her accusing his village Elder, like another threat?

 

Perhaps, and perhaps it's something else.

 

"I don't even know what to be upset about, if I'm honest," Karkat laughs but the sound is short and halfhearted, "I've never had any notion that there might have been another Red mutant, so I'm....not sure yet how to process any of that, if I'm going to process it."

Chitti for the most part is calmer than before, but it refuses to untuck itself from Karkat's neck, Karkat faintly smiling before looking back to Xia, "I won't mind, if you want to talk about it some more. Though I'd rather know how you're doing. You didn't need to exert yourself like that. Even if it's to say things like that, I like knowing that Zhen's at least clear enough to say anything."

 

*

 

"I'm... fine." She sits back down, holding onto her thinly-veiled lie.

"Honestly, as someone who may as well be a blood mutant -- that is, I have no knowledge of any ancestors and haven't ever met another Limeblood -- it's easier to just remember they all died thousands of sweeps ago. No living troll remembers Limebloods. No living troll has ever met a Limeblood. Pretty soon, all trolls who had met your ancestor will be dead." She offers Karkat up a smile.

"That's probably not the most comforting thing I could've said, but it's true. I don't know much about it -- about The Signless and The Grand Highblood -- but I know Zhen knows what she's talking about. I've brought it up to my mate before. He denies it, says he couldn't have cared less for the rebellion -- it wasn't violent, it wasn't a fun affair -- but the way he talks about... The Signless... the way he talks about your ancestor... makes me think it's true." She sighs, slumping back against the cocoon exterior.

"As his current mate, it's not really fun to think he has unresolved feelings for a long-dead mutant. You'd be peeved if Gamzee held residual feelings for some red fling he had before you, wouldn't you?" She chuckles.
"I'm being selfish, again." Her gaze moves over the ceiling, smoothed down to make a proper block.

"Zhen has big ideas. Even if she won't live to see things, be able to do anything, she has big ideas -- and I'm just some breeder that wants to carry successfully just once ." A short silence falls, her hands smoothing over the slight bump of her lower stomach.

With Zhen out, she can relax a little bit.

"You know, The Grand Highblood's never bred a troll before. Not to quickening... Apparently, your ancestor was either carrying his grub, or had already birthed his grub, before he died. Zhen would know which is true. Either way, it's safe to say The Empress had the grub killed. She had to punish the disloyal barkbeast... but, Indigobloods are kind of like those rebels. They don't fear death. Burning their churches, scorching their land, driving them out; they know why they suffer. It makes death sweeter. That they have something to live and die for besides Her probably pisses Her off, but I think it's a good thing." She smiles softly.

"Sorry, I'm rambling. Are you going to be sleeping in the nursery? Filling the empty recuperacoons with blankets and pillows makes for a nice bed of sorts."

 

*

 

She says she's fine, but it doesn't feel like it.
Though even Xia acts like Karkat having an ancestor is true, even mentioning that The Grand Highblood has known of another troll with his color makes it feel less and less like it's some coincidence.

"It's fine, being selfish," he starts, "Stars and Messiahs know I want to be selfish," in how Karkat wanted things (to stay with Gamzee but also see his village-- the sister village now --every once in a while) (for everyone he loves, no matter what type of way, to get along).

Xia does, however, reveal a little of herself. Being The Grand Highblood's current mate, it does stir her heart around, whenever his past loves are brought up; he'd definitely be sulky if it turned out Gamzee had someone he couldn't get over, still thought of while Karkat was there with him-- for everything Gamzee has put him through, he'd better not.

"'S not even selfish to want to carry a successful term, you deserve that more than anyone." Karkat's heart hurts when she says that, being reminded that her first grub died, how much Xia must have hurt to be the one to live through it. His hand comes comfortingly down hers until Karkat can move closer, lightly rub down her back, ready to move off in case she's not particularly at ease with the touch.

To hear that just to be spiteful, the Empress would had killed the grub, if there was a grub, of his ancestor (who Karkat still can't believe is) and The Grand Highblood, her pettiness having no bounds.

It's from a time Karkat doesn't know, with a blood connection he doesn't rightly believe either.

"Ramble all you like. And I think so. I was going to watch Chahut make her 'coon, but I wound up with this little one," Karkat nudges at Chitti, "and someone told me my other pupa ended up coming here too," his head nods toward Baizli.

Karkat shares off the rest of the fruit between himself, Chitti, Baizli and Barzum and Xia, just to finish it off so he can clean the bowl. On his way back from the kitchens, it's a matter of finding a block no one is using and getting a blanket and pillow from there, Karkat almost unable to see from how much he's trying to carry, taking slow nudging steps into the nursery; wanting to be mindful and careful of any grubs that might have tumbled out to the floor.

 

*

 

Xia's quick to move a grub out of the way, just in case Karkat can't see -- and it doesn't look like he can very well.

"You could've asked me for help, you know?" Too late now, though.

There's an empty recuperacoon situated close to Barzum, Baizli still awake despite his lidded gaze.
Xia helps Karkat heap blankets and pillows into the recuperacoon, only stopping when Baizli quietly chirps for attention.

"Can I sleep with Karkat?" He asks, peeking over his twin's cocoon.

"Well, you should ask Karkat. Either way, you should try to sleep soon. It's getting early." Xia has no intention of sleeping, preferring to watch over the grubs and nursery; she even offers to take Chitti for the day.

Sluggishly, Baizli gets to his feet, dragging himself over to Karkat.

"I want to sleep in the cocoon with you." He whines in the way a tired pupa does; not upset but needy. A small, cool hand even grasps Karkat;s robes, giving the fabric a tug.

"The ground's cold and grubs keep trying to crawl all over me." He presses his forehead into Karkat, the absolute picture of a pouty, tired pupa.

 

It warms Xia's heart to see that -- that The Signless' descendant might have a different ending than his ancestor.

They've come a long way, anyways; Indigobloods are much more difficult to track down with their small, nomadic groups. The Empress doesn't even seem to know about Karkat. She definitely doesn't know about Xia; she has no doubt she'd be culled immediately.

Maybe, with the affection of so many strong trolls, Karkat doesn't have to repeat the tragedy of the past.

 

*

 

Even without asking, help is given anyway, Karkat more than grateful for it even if he tries not to need it, Xia unloading him of blankets and stuff into an empty cocoon, Chitti shifting back on the side of his neck rather than clinging to his back.

"Come here then," Karkat speaks softly, most of the nursery seeming down for the day, aside from the occasional grub crawling out of it's cocoon. Baizli is such a sweet thing, asking like Karkat wouldn't let him, coming up to Barzum's cocoon; as soon as she's all healed up she'll get to do anything and everything she wants, but for now he won't take her from the sopor.

Instead, Barzum gets a kiss, Karkat searching out the least sopor-covered spot on her face and carefully stroking fingers over the bandage on her eyes, "Better get some sleep, sweetness. Sleep is when you heal the fastest and the most, you know."

One pupa in sopor and the other clutching on his robes, Karkat meanders back to the 'coon that's set up, looking to Xia, "Thank you. Are you sure you want to take Chitti?" Though he wouldn't mind keeping Chitti, Karkat's not quite confident about sleeping with one pupa and a grub, worried about moving wrong and potentially harming both, "You're set up by Zhen, aren't you?"

Xia sort of seems like she isn't going to sleep anytime soon, which has Karkat frown, "Hey, you need to sleep too."

 

*

 

"I don't mind." She tries for a smile and partially succeeds.

"I'm a breeder too, you know -- and I'm not really essential to the caravan. I can take naps throughout the night. I'd rather be awake if anything happens." She holds out her arms, cooing to coax Chitti into them.
The grub settles at the nape of her neck, curling up with a huff that clears its nasal slits.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to get attached and steal Chitti from you. It just might not be the easiest to sleep with a grub and a pupa." She steps lightly back to Zhen's 'coon, just across the block from Karkat.

With permission granted, Baizli toddles over to the recuperacoon.
Despite being an Indigoblood, he's still a pupa, and it takes him some effort to get inside. He has to raise himself up onto his toes, hook his hands over the lip of the cocoon, and do some undignified wiggling to topple himself into a nest of softness.

He tumbles in with a sort chirr, peeking over the edge, evidently waiting for Karkat.

"Hey," he whispers, resting his chin on the cocoon's lip, "why do you call us 'sweetness' and 'sweet thing'? Are we sweet? Are you going to call Chitti that? What about your grubling? Are all young trolls sweet?" Without his twin to bounce off, Baizli's much more manageable; subdued and quiet.

 

*

 

Chitti takes some interest in Xia, inching off of Karkat to grip and cling onto her, crawling all the way up in a slow manner, full of sugary fruit and ready for a nice sleep.

"Just let me know if you feel like it," if Xia does get attached, Karkat won't mind if she ends up wanting to keep Chitti-- sure, he's only met them a few hours earlier and he's already attached and it'd hurt probably to let it go, but if she wanted it, Karkat wouldn't mind; knows that Chitti would get just as much care and affection from Xia, if not more.

Karkat lets Baizli settle in first, being nothing short of precious as he hoists himself inside, toppling right in before Karkat can be of any help. Smiling soft as he's bombarded with whispered questions, Karkat dusts himself off-- despite not exactly being couture, the fabric the Jade robes are made from are really something, stain and spill resistant, enough that whatever sopor may have been on him has simply dripped and dried off somewhere else --, and climbs himself into the cocoon, careful of Baizli as he settles next to him.

"Why, don't like it?" Karkat fake pouts, sticking his tongue out for all of a moment, "Too bad, that's what you two get for acting all sweet. Should we find out if you are?" Karkat takes a small hand and mocks biting into it, gasping falsely, "I was only kidding, but you are . Oh no, what're you gonna do if I eat you all up??" Proceeding to make fake claws and paw at Baizli's tummy playfully, tickling getting sleepy giggles-- stopping once he notices Barzum stirring, reminded to be mindful that somehow someway the two are connected like that --as he puts a kiss to a cool forehead.

"I had someone to call me that, when I was small. I'll probably call Chitti that at some point soon enough, and the grubling I've got in here," he pats lightly on his middle, shifting to lay down and tug Baizli next to him-- Karkat bets once Barzum is better, no longer needing to sleep or wrap her eyes in sopor, he'll want both of them to sleep by him like this......assuming Gamzee doesn't hog him like Karkat knows he will, never mind that Barzum probably wants to now .

"You'd better sleep now, or else you're gonna be too tired to play tomorrow, and then what?"

 

*

 

Baizli shakes his head -- he likes the nicknames the older trolls give them, whether it be Chahut, Marvus, or Karkat -- but he bursts into sleepy giggles before he can reply, Karkat falsely attacking his vulnerable stomach.
His giggling dies down as hot lips leave a brand on his forehead.
Things only get hotter as Karkat pulls him close, and he nestles himself right up against the breeder, cheek pressed to Karkat's chest.

"Then she'll make me stay awake all day... 'cause she's so bored...," It doesn't take much for him to nod off, or much for him to start up a high-pitch little pupa-purr.

 

Throughtout the day, Gamzee keeps an eye on Chahut.

It's something of a spectacle, watching her curl herself up comfortably, as if she might nap. Then, over the hours, strands of silk cover her like a fine down; the strings tether her limbs together, and attach firmly to the wall of the caravan.

When dusk hits, and Gamzee's finished recolouring the innards of the merchant caravan, Chahut's cocoon is nearly opaque. Her breathing had long-since evened out, and he can only make out the darkness of her hair, the brightness of her horns.

Marvus comes to relieve him, assuring him he'll watch over Chahut; Gamzee drags Diemen and Vianya a ways away, tossing them into a pile of prickly bushes that should serve to hide them from the Jades and from Karkat.

However much Gamzee would've liked to be the one to wake Karkat, Bronya comes swaying into the nursery, Karako attached to her skirts.

"Okay, girls -- and Karkat -- it's time for breakfast!" This early into the night, she already has a spark in her eye; Karako looks the same, offering up a honk .

Barzum is the first to stir, aside from Xia -- who hadn't slept -- her body feeling heavy, her mind bliss-blank. She licks her dry lips, and Bronya immediately gets her a glass of water.

"No fair, Baizli gets to sleep beside Karkat." She murmurs into the glass, feeling her twin slowly, reluctantly, wake up.

"Well, very soon, you'll be well enough to do everything you used to do." Bronya says, untying the sopor bandages.

 

*

 

Pupa-purrs are such a lovely sound, Karkat thinks. The noise travels through Baizli in a vibrating hum, to where Karkat can feel it through the Jade robes, through his skin.

Once Baizli drifts off, nuzzled right into Karkat, it's a little too easy to be lulled by his purring, letting Karkat doze off as well.

 

In sleep, Karkat sees that black door again. Even more locks have been placed and wrapped and bolted onto it, but still black threads lead out from the cracks, some have even woven together, all taut as if on the other end someone is pulling them tightly. That pupa is there again, this time though he doesn't acknowledge Karkat, simply continues playing in the grass.

That black door both beckons and has him wanting to get as far away as he can, but it's there all the same. Only when he nears an inky black string, apprehensively reaching out to touch, does the pupa turn toward him, getting up in a toddling fuss.

" Don't ," he says, pacifier plucked out of his little mouth, cheeks round and rosy. "Don't touch it, you don't know what it does. It might come back," his little face scrunches, looking both cross and disgusted, "I don't want it back here."

Parts of memory fuzz, and Kanaya-- except not really, this Kanaya is from his memories, still a wriggler herself, even if older --comes to pick the pupa up, she's there to put the pupa level with Karkat; she's exactly how Karkat remembers her at this age, brows halfway set and mouth in a line, features not yet the intimidating beauty queen she is now. Her skirt isn't nearly as long as Karkat knows she prefers at this time, burns and scars coming down one of her legs. The pupa addresses him again, Karkat blinking.

"Is that guy gonna come again?"

 

The conversation is abruptly ended, Karkat jolting with a start, hearing his name called. Peeking blearily up over the edge of the recuperacoon to see Bronya, Karako at her skirts (on Bronya, the Jade robes certainly have a shape, complimenting her figure whereas everyone else has to try a little harder, even Lanque). Barzum is already up and sitting, having her bandages unwrapped; earning Karkat's pity first thing in the night.

With Baizli also waking up, Karkat gently combs through his hair, making soft chirrs, "Awake yet? Are you ready for breakfast?"

 

*

 

Baizli chirrs, hair sticking up more so than usual as weak limbs push him to sit. He nods, eyes still closed.

"I'm not going to help you cheat on the test." He says, keeping his eyes shut as Karako takes a sheet of paper and begins drawing out signs, shapes, and writing names -- the names of their caravan members, that is. Names Barzum would already know how to read.

He moves to the other side of the room, holding up the piece of paper.

Like before, Barzum looks at the page, answering questions about what is where; Bronya takes the pupa's face in her hands and gingerly holds open her eyelids, inspecting the pupil and sclera. She sounds pleased, even if Barzum immediately rubs her eyes, blinking until the foreign sensation goes away.

"I think you'll be able to leave soon!" The Jadeblood coos, Baizli finally opening his eyes.
Barzum climbs from the slime, and Baizli hops out, helping his twin slough off the excess.

Xia, green-tinged shadows under her eyes, gets to her feet.

"That's great. Would you mind checking Zhen's horn? She's been in sopor all day." With Chitti in her arms, the Limeblood crosses the block, returning the bright-eyed, plump grub to Karkat.

She's spent the day idly stroking its segmented back, its pathetic purr rumbling over her stomach; it'd be a lie to say she doesn't want to bring the grub along and call it her own, but it'd fare better with Karkat and his group.

"It slept all day. Chubby little grub. Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?" She asks, sounding just a bit fatigued.

"I don't really have a preference for my own grubling. I just hope this one is healthy."

 

*

 

Once Baizli is out, gone to help Barzum, Karkat climbs out of the cocoon as well, folding up the blankets and arranging the pillows in a neat pile together. Should he take them back where he got them from? Maybe, might be good of him, even if he ends up sleeping in the nursery again.

Barzum being on the mend for the better is infinitely good news for everyone.

Xia comes to return Chitti, Karkat cooing a couple of chirps as the grub climbs up, figuring out where and how it wants to nestle on him.

"Mmh, I don't really have a preference either. It'll figure out what it wants to be at first pupation. Of course I want it to be healthy, though...I suppose, if anything...I really hope they'll be Purple," Karkat thinks quietly for a few moments, before speaking in a much quieter voice, "....I don't want them to be a breeder.."

Of course Karkat wants the assurance of his grubs-- any pupae of his --to be protected, but he doesn't want them to always need that. Always needing protection, not being able to do anything that strains them, always feeling useless because of that inability.

Even if they're mutant Red, at the least they won't be double-downed.

Karkat offers Xia a half smile, "That might sound a little strange, probably.."

He gives her a proper look-over, lips pursing at the green under her eyes.

"C'mon, let's see if Zhen's alright to come out, and then we're going to eat. And then you are going to get some sleep."

 

*

 

"I don't think it's strange at all." She says, keeping her voice just low enough to not pick up the attention of the twins.

"The only time I feel right as a breeder is when I'm carrying. That's why I trained my strutpods. My old caravan used to call me 'Speedy Strutpods', because you really need to keep at it in order for the muscles to stay . Everything wants to be soft. Of course," she sticks her tongue out briefly, "someone always had to watch me to make sure I wouldn't take off -- as if I'd leave Zhen behind, and somehow be quicker than an Indigoblood." She sighs, shrugging.

"Anyway, I get it. It's not pleasant to have everyone else do all the fighting for you." Even with her crass attitude and her strong legs, Xia's still a breeder.
She doesn't doubt that anyone Olive or above could really do some damage to her.

"Anyway," she clasps her hands together, "I'll eat before sleeping. I think I'll take a nap in that merchant caravan if Zhen's doing better tonight."

Both Bronya and Karako haul the slight Indigoblood from the slime, Bronya slapping her back with an open palm in order to get the sopor out from her lungs.

When her eyes open, she looks drowsy, climbing out to be cleaned of excess slime.
After a while of catching her breath, she wraps herself in the innermost layer of her dress, and plops onto a stool, letting Bronya take a look at both her stump and horn.

Her eyes narrow in the direction of the two breeders.

"I have sources to back everything up." Her wrist is bandaged first, used to point to Karkat.

"Don't doubt me. Booknerd Tealbloods have nothing on me. I got a little passionate, but I'm allowed. Besides, you need to be able to educate your grubling -- it'll be a descendant of The Grand Highblood." She winces as her horn is unwrapped, but the pain is nothing like it had been previously.

Xia's expression goes blank for a moment, then she chitters a laugh.

"You're right! Oh, I hadn't even thought of that -- The Grand Highblood will have two successive lines of descendants. Isn't that neat, Karkat? He's surely going to want to see the grub, Purple or otherwise."

 

*

 

Counting on Xia to know better than anyone, to relate, seems like something that should have been plain common sense to him. That she knows at all seems to settle something in his head.

Zhen, to Karkat's surprise, is very much lucid when she awakes, after coughing out slime-- which Karkat feels a little bad for, his not knowing about his supposed blood and sign history getting her worked up and passionate about Purple history, which she is allowed by all rights, and then making Xia uncomfortable to the point she shoved the Indigoblood down into the sopor.

Although feeling like he should have expected her to still be on the topic, something like 'of course she is' mixed with 'at least she's okay'.

He'd put his sign back into his bag, Karkat hoping that it'd lessen the chances of the topic resurfacing; it's not quite something he's ready to deal with just yet.

 

It doesn't hit him until after Xia says it, Karkat blinking a couple times before it really sinks -- Gamzee is The Grand Highblood's descendant. Their grubs are going to be his descendants-- fuck . No fucking pressure or nothing .

"A..ha....," Karkat manages a nervous, awkward laugh, as if he could have gone without remembering that he'd meet with such a storied troll, gone without knowing he's about to be responsible for a bloodline-- and Gamzee's Messiahs must have thought that this would be some big ol' joke to have a giggle about later, putting a blood mutant in charge of such a thing (at least Xia was an original, actual caste, and all Karkat has to go on for the viability of his own is Zhen, if he wanted to believe her).

"That's so neat. I can't wait." Karkat has the smile and tone of a dying troll and poor Chitti must pick up on something for all that it nudges under his chin at him.

 

*

 

"What?" Zhen's tone picks up, her ears flicking in annoyance.

"Did you just remember you're not mated to a no-name troll?" She asks, flinching again as Bronya reapplies her bandage.
Xia also seems confused, but tries to smile for Karkat's benefit.

"Clowns don't have the same expectations as traditional royalty, Karkat. Don't sound so desolate." That said, the rules of royalty might be more palatable to Karkat. At least, with Ampora, the mutant wouldn't be carted all over Alternia.

"Anyway, you'll probably meet him whenever you drop me off with him. He actually checks in with his descendants, even Kurloz." She doesn't know what part of all this is making Karkat sound so... dead, but she tries to cover all the bases before the twins come to huddle around Karkat.

The Limeblood nods to Karkat, crossing over to Bronya, Karako, and Zhen.

The twins tug Karkat along, making idle banter with one another.

Gamzee meets them partway to the consumption block, his hands cleaned in the cool river.

"What's up?" He chirrs a quiet greeting, face paint concealing any signs of fatigue.

"You worried 'bout Sister Chahut? She's spinning just fine. Her 'coon'll probably be done 'fore daybreak. Marvus and Chixie're sitting up with her, now." He notes Chitti trying to all but burrow under Karkat's neck, the twins hanging off his robes.

"Something else happen?" He asks, wondering how much the stress is impacting the grubling inside his mate.

"You're looking a lil' pale, mate of mine."

 

*

 

Xia says there's no expectations, and Karkat trusts Xia as much as his own gut-instinct...which differs on a case-by-case basis. He's thought as much himself, that he shouldn't put so much stock in stories, especially stories that have already been proven, for the most part, false. And yet he can't help but feel he's already failed to live up to some unknown prior expectation-- everything Zhen's said aside.

Katkat's head sticks to the thought the whole way to the dining block, more or less being dragged along by the twins. Meeting up with Gamzee and softly chirping in greeting as his mate has updates on Chahut, Karkat nodding with some piece of relief-- because he is relieved, to know that her cocooning is going alright.

It's noted that he looks pale, and he supposes he does, stressing himself out. Karkat shakes his head and tries not to make such a dead expression, "Nothing, really. I'm stressing myself out over things that I don't actually need to stress about." In trying to not sound like he's dying on the inside, Karkat ends up sounding a bit too cheery, like there really was absolutely nothing to be worried about.

Which, really, there isn't, therefore there's no good reason for his own head to do this to him.

"I'll be fine..," another few moments pass where Karkat is quiet, "...in a bit."

 

*

 

Something almost definitely happened, Gamzee's smart enough to know that, but he's not one for prying -- at least, not right now.

"If you gotta stress, then stress it out. Better than keeping all your feels to yourself. Now," he holds out his hands, and it takes more chirping, but Chitti eventually rolls into his palms, "I'll look after these motherfuckers for a while. I know you're a breeder, but you can't wanna be with grubs and pupae all the motherfucking time, right? Makes eating difficult, too." Chitti's much less active on Gamzee, although the grub still clings to him, seeing the world from a new height.

He pats his thighs and clicks, the twins sharing a look before scuttling over.

Without Chahut in the nutrition block, Daraya tries her best -- Lanque and Wanshi in turn making idle comments that aren't exactly nice while she brings out food. Neither offer to help, either.

Wanshi only shuts up with a squeak when Daraya mentions Karako and Bronya put in work before dusk.
The twins are seated around Wanshi, and Gamzee settles down, not dragging Karkat with him like he normally would. He wants to, but Karkat can choose where to sit.

Chitti cheers up considerably when Gamzee holds up a large berry and lets it stuff its little cheeks full. He's assuming trying to get the grub to drink would just end up badly, so the concoction of sugary-sweet swill meant for Karkat and Xia goes untouched by him.

 

*

 

He's thankful for Gamzee not trying to figure out what' up with him just yet, and Karkat would rather deal with it on his own and quietly if he can.

With Chitti and the twins alleviated from him, Gamzee settling Barzum and Baizli by Wanshi while he takes the grub with him, Karkat feels himself deflate more, at least physically. He ends up sitting by Xia, which makes it easier for the broth and other breeder-specific things to be passed, quietly trying to figure how best to bring up his concerns.

"....Xia..what you said earlier, about clowns' expectations..," Karkat goes on to ask about how it is; even if Purplebloods aren't thought of the same way seadweller royalty is, there must still be some kind of expectation held up, because they are still highbloods.

Asks about her mate specifically, "Gamzee says he's not massive and all that, like stories say he is, is he?" More or less, Karkat ends up rambling on about the details he's stressing over, though much calmer than earlier, thanks to sugar-broth.

 

*

 

"Massive... how?" She keeps her own voice low as well, sipping on sugar-broth.

"Oh! Do you mean that old sketch of him in the ancestral tomes? That's just what that distressed Oliveblood drew up. He looks like an absolute brick shithive in that. He's more like... your mate, I guess." Her gaze flickers over to Gamzee, then back to Karkat.

They do have a lot of similarities, even down to their scent.

"He's slender, like your mate. The biggest difference would be that he's a full adult, so he's taller. A lot taller. He can bend at the waist and be eye-level with me. Oh, he keeps his hair long, too. Actually...," She pauses, thinking to herself.

"If he didn't have the history that he does, I don't really think you'd be concerned -- besides the general rumours about clowns and what they do to other trolls."
Cheekily, she leans over, whispering into Karkat's ear.

"He likes to straighten his hair and tie it up with a Purple ribbon." She leans back, trying to imagine Gamzee with his hair pulled back.

"It makes him look handsome, in a sort of posh way... with the knowledge that he could slap me so hard my neck would break and I'd die -- but I've seen him handle trolls from all castes, and all ages. He was even careful with our grub. It's not like he's going to pick you up and start tossing you around. He might just pick you up for a squeeze -- not enough to damage your innards, or anything. Especially not your gestation sac." Talking of her mate brings out a subtle, youthful joy in her, and she soon forgets her slight embarrassment on the topic.

"Anyway, you're expected to be loyal and supportive to your mate and posse. That's an expectation for every Indigoblood, not just breeders. You're not expected to wear face paint, or to become accustomed to violence, or to pray to The Mirthful Messiahs -- they know you're not an Indigoblood." Her own face is only occasionally painted, but she'd mostly grown up with Indigobloods.

"As for the whole 'descendant' thing... it's less about land and title than it is as a sort of guide for all other Indigobloods. The head of the caste. As far as I know, male and female trolls are both viable. I know it's also customary for descendants to kill one another, but Kurloz's brighter blood makes him inferior to your mate -- but that doesn't mean it applies to trolls that come from a breeder. I'd assume not, but I'll need to ask him about it."

 

*

 

Gamzee mentioned his ancestor had been drawn up like that-- in the tome Karkat hasn't read yet --, and disputed it too. With Xia saying his looks are similar to Gamzee's, looking cheeky as she does too, talking about her mate gets a real smile out of her, the kind that makes her features young and it's clear on how she feels.

It's infectious enough to make him want to smile too.

She answers something that he wanted to know too, in the case of Karkat having more than one Purple grub, more than one Purple descendant-- more than one grub in general; if Gamzee and Kurloz were made to fight each other, would their grubs have to as well? It's not a thought he's fond of.

He'd rather no pupae from him go through that, rightful or not, blasphemous or not.

"Y'know, I had that thought too," Karkat whispers, "I've been wanting to see how he looked with his hair straightened. He looks pretty posh disguised as a Navy, wouldn't he look like a noble troll with it straightened like that?"

Karkat imagines, if Xia says The Grand Highblood looks handsome like that, that Gamzee would too-- looked good with his hair tied back, but straightened?

The moment Karkat gets a comb and some product to his mate's head, he'll be unstoppable.

 

*

 

Xia holds back a giggle -- she doesn't remember the last time she had to do that.

"When you take off all the paint and make them dress up like other castes, they really look like they could run an entire Kingdom. It's not always easy, though. I mean, Kurloz obviously went out of his way to grab his own clothes. I suppose, when you're not extinct or a blood-mutant, you get attached to your blood colour." She shrugs, spooning a soft and lightly sweetened grain gruel past her lips.

"I think he'll like you." She murmurs, hearing Wanshi and the twins bickering over who gets to be which purrbeast -- apparently, Wanshi's having fun finally not being the smallest or youngest.

"The Grand Highblood, I mean. You need to be tough to survive with Indigobloods, and I think you're tough. Not physically, but emotionally and mentally. He likes my attitude, and almost every highblood I've met looks at me like garbage because I don't immediately start prostrating myself to them -- like they all deserve it. None of them have followed through on their threats to kill me, anyways." She goes back to her food, offering a bit of everything she has to Karkat, as well.

Although he feeds Chitti, and himself, it doesn't escape Gamzee's notice that the two breeders are gossiping.

It doesn't escape Zhen's notice, either, but she's beaten to the punch by Polypa, who slings a strong, muscled arm over the Limeblood's shoulders.

"What are you two gossiping about? I haven't seen Xia this relaxed in sweeps. Mainly because I haven't seen her in sweeps." The Limeblood's shoulders handle the weight comfortably, although, rather than answer, she fills her mouth with simmered tubers.

Polypa's gaze moves to Karkat.

"I'm going to guess romance. Am I right? Don't feel the need to leave me out in the cold -- I've read my fair share of romance. Most of it was trash, but my wriggler-pan didn't know any better."

 

*

 

"I mean," Karkat speaks especially hushed, "I don't think anyone would agree to it, but I'm pretty sure if we got some fake fins on Kurloz we could probably infiltrate a castle," he shrugs, but if they really wanted to pull a thing like that, then that would be Karkat's suggestion.

Karkat's never been 'tough' in his life. Called a crygrub and a brat, loud and annoying, but that Xia thinks so makes him beam up at her, "C'mon, I'm at least a little physically sturdy," If he is liked by The Grand Highblood, Karkat thinks he'd like it to be for being tough.

The early evening chatter picks up around the table, Karkat and Xia going on while Xia shares things from her plate and vice versa. It feels a little like talking to Chixie, at least while she isn't holding back and hiding herself. But that sense of ease is there, and if not for being a village troll, then for Xia being a fellow breeder.

He hasn't seen Polypa in a while, and the Oliveblood comes right over to drop an arm around Xia, striking up conversation-- saying that it looked like they were gossiping, of all things.

" Oh ," Karkat muses, tone going playful, looking up at Polypa at the mention of her reading trashy romance. "I see you too have read the garbage books."

 

*

 

"Of course I have," Polypa says this like it's a normal thing every troll does, "I even used to hand out romantic advice like I had any idea what was going on. I still don't know what's going on, honestly."
Xia's brows knit.

"So, you and Tegiri aren't -- "

"Not in a million sweeps. He's a loser devoid of friends, and I'm a loser who kills too many trolls to make friends. Also, he sometimes keeps me from burning up under the Sun. It beats sleeping in the trash... barely." Polypa's mostly straight-faced, although she relaxes around Xia.

The Limeblood stifles a chuckle, turning to Karkat.

"Tegiri's this Tealblood who is absolutely obsessed with Beforian culture. Most trolls we met just say I have a weird name from 'across the large body of water', but Tegiri immediately started talking in broken Beforian. It would've been cute if he were a pupa... It wasn't cute that he kept saying Zhen looked like one of his..." She blanks on the word, looking to Polypa.

"Figurines." Polypa supplies the least offensive word she can think of.

"Right... Anyway, Karkat, if you want to meet a real conniseur of the written word, he'll probably make your pan drip right out of your ears. Not to mention, he can recite local laws whenever someone pisses him off. The best part is probably that he still thinks I'm an Oliveblood."

"He thinks you're dead." Polypa grabs a baked grain roll, biting into it.

Xia sighs, "You told him I died, didn't you?"

The Oliveblood hums, swallowing.

"Yeah. Besides, I met this fucking obnoxious Blueblood looking to get into my pale quadrant around the same time. It was so much easier to say 'fuck off, my palemate just died' than to explain all the reasons why that Blueblood should've just fucked off." That, at the very least, finally makes Xia crack.

She giggles, prompting Zhen to come over.

"Aren't you three friendly?" She nudges Polypa's arm.

"Try to run off with her, I'll personally slice you open and boil your gastric sac." She clicks to emphasise this, although Polypa -- while short -- looks like she could and would punt Zhen across the block.

"Firstly, she's probably quicker than both of us. Secondly, go fuck yourself." Polypa wastes no time with clicks, preferring to hiss.

Zhen looks like she's considering skewering Polypa with her remaining horn, although the sharp look Xia sends her way keeps her from flinging herself onto the Oliveblood.

"You can sit and eat or you can go back up to the nursery to sleep." Xia scolds Zhen like a caretaker would.
The Indigoblood clicks again.

"It's not my fault she has her arm around you -- Gamzee!" She seems to startle the other Indigoblood, who was engrossed in watching Chitti nibble on a tuber.

"What's up? You're looking all hackled." He doesn't know if he could bring himself to get upset with Chitti clinging to his arm.

"What do you think is up? Polypa's basically getting pale with your ancestor's mate." She plops down atop a seat, halfway between pouting and glowering.

"Yeah, I see that... If it was my mate, I'd get that arm ripped right the fuck off -- but it ain't. 'Sides, my mate'd argue it's all clade." His gaze moves over to Karkat, his smile sweet.

"At least you're looking better, mate of mine. Zhen seems real lively, too. Shit's working out for once, ain't it?"

 

*

 

"Oh no ," Karkat's brows knit even as he snorts; Tegiri sounded like another troll with a fetish, if anyone asked him-- and he's pretty sure they just got rid of one of those.

There's a familiarity and a sense of ease between Xia and Polypa, different from how her and Zhen act with each other (there is a familiarity and ease, but a different kind than what he's seeing now).

Polypa easily gets Xia to laugh in spite of her holding out, and just like when she smiles she sounds so much younger than how she acts.

Zhen comes over, though it's to make a threat at Polypa, clicking in warning whereas Polypa takes it in stride and hisses, positing that Xia is much faster than either of them. As he'd thought, Xia interjects before anything escalates, chiding Zhen like a misbehaved wriggler that she can either stay and eat or go take a nap.

And like a misbehaved wriggle looking for justification, Zhen calls out on another source of authority, Gamzee who seems more interested and invested in feeding Chitti than the conversation across from him.

Sitting down like a pouty wriggler who's not getting their way doesn't help the image, and neither does Gamzee, simply on the basis of it not being Karkat. He returns the sweet smile, though his comes with a hidden look that might read as ' better not rip off anybody's arm if they don't legitimately deserve it '.

"Mmh, looks like we're on our good streak for a while, yeah?"

 

*

 

"Yeah," his smile widens a tick, "better hope no one gets it in their pan to interfere where they don't belong." He returns Karkat's warning in syrupy-sweet tones.

Gamzee's on duty with Lynera, clearing away the dishes, bringing everything to a tub of hot, soapy water. The taller Jadeblood tells Wanshi and the twins to get some schoolfeeding done while she's gone, and the look Wanshi gives her makes her cheeks flush a ruddy green.

Stalking past Karkat, she stops briefly.

"Would you mind making sure those wrigglers at least attempt to be schoolfed? I swear, I'm going to lose it! " Her shriek, as she follows Gamzee off with her arms full of bowls, plates, and cutlery, doesn't seem to go noticed.

If anything, it'd be abnormal for her to be quiet.

Daraya rolls her eyes.

"Don't take her seriously. If it were up to her, we'd all be cloaked up to our eyes and schoolfeeding daily." Daraya snorts.

"Daraya!" Bronya warns, eyes thinning.

"Wanshi had the privilege of being schoolfed nightly, but the twins don't. This is a rare opportunity for them to catch up."

Both twins groan.

"I'm too blind and sick to learn." Barzum whines, although she'd happily been eating moments before.

"Yeah! She'll just expire if you make her sit in the schoolfeeding block!" Baizli chimes in.

Wanshi's no help, stifling her giggles behind her hands.

 

*

 

It seems Gamzee's on the rotation today, Chitti being returned to Karkat so he can help clear the table. Lynera is also on cleaning duty, her shrill voice sounding like it could give Karkat's loudness a run for his money.

Blinking in surprise as she asks him to, at the very least, get the pupae to the learning block, not having the chance to refuse or even question what exactly she wanted him to schoolfeed them. Daraya more or less waves her off though Bronya is quick to chide after her dismissal of learning, the twins bemoaning the very idea.

"Oh? Too blind and sick for schoolfeeding but not too blind and sick to play?" Karkat asks teasingly, bag located and slung across his shoulder, giving Barzum and Baizli a meaningful look. "You'd all better be down there by the time I get there," he warns, hoping he actually remembers the way without help.

Karkat starts on his way, thinking he should get a chance to work on the things he wants later on, before he lost too much of the day-- and since he's going to be mostly by himself he thinks. A thought snaps into his mind before completely leaving; he'd wanted to ask Bronya something, didn't he? Karkat had completely forgotten yesterday, occupied with Chitti and worried about Chahut, and then Zhen going on about his sign.

Before he can get to far away from the dining block, Karkat turns back around, locating Bronya before she goes on with her schedule, getting her attention without seeming like a total wriggler-- which is kind of hard, for all that she reminds him of Kanaya and always feeling like that around her.

"Miss Bronya..? I had something to ask you, before I forgot..," Oh stars , like saying it like that didn't just make him feel like a pupa. They're not completely in private but with everyone beginning to bustle around, it feels like they've got a quiet moment despite Karako not too far from her skirts.

"I figured it might be best to ask you rather than Daraya or Lanque, as the Matron," Karkat really thinks it over before saying anything, looking back up at her, "....I wanted to know..what would be some reasons, if any, that a cloister wouldn't take in a Jade pupa, from outside a cavern." When he was old enough to understand, Karkat noticed that, Kanaya being a Jadeblood, and yet instead of being in a cloister she lived in their village. Whenever he brought it up, she tended to not give him a straight answer, or even redirect his attention onto something else.

 

*

 

The Matron turns her attention to Karkat, hands clasped before her.

Karkat's question, however, has her expression dropping.

"In order to answer that," she places her hands on her hips, "I'll need to know why you're asking such an odd question. First off, let me share some of my knowledge with you.

1. The twins speak of a 'bad Jade'.
2. I'm assuming this 'bad Jade' to be the reason you're consulting me.
3. I can assume that Jade had some part in the grevious injuries sustained by the pupa, who appear to have the most negative opinions of them.
4. Whether or not this Jade is truly 'bad' is subjective, I am merely repeating what I have heard through the incessant gossip which occurs in the cloister." After listing everything off with a speed and tone which gives absolutely no time to interrupt, Bronya takes a breath a continues.
5. "Cloistered Jadebloods do not leave the caverns. We are laid, hatched, and pupated within the caverns by other cloistered Jadebloods. Most Jadebloods are not cloistered. They do not meet the requirements. If a pupa from another cavern were to seek refuge, that is the basis for a culling of the entire cloister." Her smile widens, hands clasping before her again.

"We seek to avoid all strife and live in harmony with the Mothergrub we serve!" Karako honks in agreement, Bronya beaming -- before she remembers that Karako's presence is grounds for a culling.

Her single eye fixates on Karkat, smile never leaving her face.

"Please refrain from mentioning Karako. Before joining your posse, he had never left the caverns, so he was unable to invite outside strife. Technically, there is no reason to say he was not allowed in here." She nods to herself, hands on her hips.

"There is reason to say that none of you are allowed in here, but,

1. My affection for my charge is irrational.
2. I am very aware of your mate's ancestor.
3. I do not wish to see myself or any of my girls -- and Lanque -- being culled because we did not take in your injured posse.

"So," she finally takes a proper breath, "am I correct? That you're enquiring about some Jadeblooded acquaintance of yours?"

 

*

 

Karkat infers that she did know everything, had been told everything from those left here at the cloister, their side at least. He won't sugarcoat or lie that Kanaya (himself) did cause this, so Karkat steels himself from being cowed, his expression and tone firm and steady (as much as he can manage anyway) despite the swift change in Bronya's.

"Yes, that's correct," though, Karkat has the inkling that Kanaya didn't hatch or pupate in a cavern, nor in or anywhere close to their village more things he guessed from asking questions that she wouldn't answer. Bronya's answer doesn't really make him feel any better, though he supposes they would have to uphold rules like that, serving the Mother Grub with such strict requirements under the Empress.

"When I was old enough to understand, I asked her why she wasn't. My caretaker either would dodge my questions or redirect my attention entirely-- it was a lot easier to do that when I was smaller," Karkat lets out a short chuckle before schooling his features back down. "Asking around our village, what I learned for sure is that she was a few sweeps after first pupation when she came, and she didn't gain a Lusus until after coming to our village. I just never thought it was strange until I heard others say it was."
Karkat glances down, distracted by his own head bringing things up before giving a slight shake and returning his gaze to Bronya, "Thank you, for your answer. Would you humor another question?" His mouth quirks, wary of the answer he might get.

"Is it possible...has a cavern...been raided and kidnapped from, before?" Karkat is quick to add, "Not by clowns or Indigos, but by other castes?"

 

*

 

"I will say that this is a topic I'm not exactly fond of discussing.

1. My charge came to me in considerable distress.
2. I have been unable to entirely alleviate that distress.
3. You're now divulging information pertaining to the perpetrator which I have absolutely no sympathy toward.
4. You assume cloisters have contact with one another, which would violate our rules of remaining cloistered.

"In short, it is possible, in the way of any troll entering any space to do anything is possible. However, I would ensure the swift death of anyone or anything posing a threat to The Mothergrub, my Jades, or Karako." She takes the small Indigoblood under her arm, still smiling.

She's Matron for a reason; unlike Lanque or Daraya, she's not obviously insulting. Unlike Wanshi, she's truthful. Unlike Lynera, she doesn't point knives at everyone.

"1. I am quite strong for a Jadeblood.

2. That is a requisite requirement for being deemed Matron.
3. I am only aware of this due to the very tests and trials which determined my suitability to become Matron.

"To answer any additional questions you may have, no eggs, grubs, or pupae have ever been stolen, and this cloister has not seen a raid in approximately six-hundred sweeps. If your theory is correct, then it is almost impossible for the Jadeblood you speak of to have originated in these caverns." It's a wonder Karako doesn't speak like Bronya, laying out her points in that odd, fast-paced fashion.

"Is there anything else I can help you with? I'd prefer to end discussion on the matters of your Jadeblooded... troll... However, I understand if that is my only use to you at this present time." Karako honks, looking away from Karkat, slightly hiding behind Bronya.

He doesn't like the topic of conversation, but he's also stubbornly unwilling to leave Bronya's side -- he doesn't get to see her regularly, after all, and he knows too well that he might die while travelling.

 

*

 

If he didn't prepare himself or understand the possibility, Karkat might have been put out or offended, of which he is neither, Bronya saying things the way she says them he doesn't ask if she'd do the same for Karako, and Karkat thinks he already knows the answer-- she can't; it's not a matter of would she or wouldn't she, from what she says, she cannot and therefore will not. On that, he supposes he's a little glad that Kanaya was afforded that freedom by not being taken in by a cloister. Karkat's lucky to have afforded being protected all his life by a troll who can do that.

Karkat matches Bronya's smile-- not out of anything okay, maybe just the smallest, barest, particle hint of spite for her tone, but really nothing! --and shakes his head, "No. Thank you for your time. You answered everything I wanted to ask," he says, lowering his head respectfully (because she's a Matron), ending the unpleasant discussion.

He waits until Bronya's gone on her way, Karako at her heels; apologetic towards him, not quite thinking through how the topic might affect him (Bronya had said she wasn't able to fully alleviate his distress, and for that Karkat feels he owes Karako until those feelings have been lifted).

But, Bronya also said another cavern being raided was a possibility, even if their own hasn't heard of it, nor been raided themselves (oh, no, did it sound like he thought the caverns were all in contact with each other?? He hadn't meant it like that, more like some newsing troll would've told them of such a thing happening? Karkat doesn't know, he must have looked really stupid for not correcting it).

But , it was still possible something like that had happened.

Chitti clicks and chitters, getting Karkat's attention; poor thing had gone and slipped into the neck of his Jade robes at some point, probably didn't like the topic of the conversation either. The grub tucks itself back into the warmth of his neck, the rest of it's segmented body under the neck of the robes, sweet little face chirping against his skin.

Karkat smiles apologetically, petting gently at Chitti's body, "Sorry, sweet thing. Do you think she's bad, too?" He gets a chirred answer that sounds neither negative nor positive, nuzzling carefully over Chitti's head. "Let's go find those overgrown grubs, hm? I bet they didn't even step foot into the schoolfeed block."

 

*

 

"Good-bye, then." Bronya's quick to leave, the atmosphere now unpleasant and heavy.

 

The twins aren't in good spirits, either, waiting so long in the schoolfeeding block; Wanshi's turning out to be a bigger and bigger liar, concealing things under her robes and conspiring against her fellow Jadebloods. It makes the both of them sick.

Luckily, for them at least, Wanshi's snuck off.

"Is she a heathen?" Barzum asks.

"She's a lying heathen." Baizli confirms.

"Should we cull her?" Barzum whispers.

"Probably." He says, and they both nod to one another.

"She's not even fun to play with anymore." Barzum adds.

"No fun at all." Baizli amends.

They continue to conspire in quiet tones until Karkat comes into the block, at which point they look up to the mutant.

"Wanshi left." Barzum starts.

"She's no fun anymore, anyway." Baizli adds.
After a moment of silence, the twins sharing a look, they speak out together.

"We're going to cull her."

 

*

 

To Karkat's surprise, the twins are in the block, no Wanshi in sight. Further to his surprise, the twins have somehow come to the decision that they are going to cull her.

"All because she's no fun?"

Karkat finds that hard to believe, when earlier they were all too happy to call the little Jade pupa their friend. Had something happened? Did they have a fight? And really Karkat absolutely cannot let them kill her for a large variety of reasons; he has to handle this carefully.

"Do the both of want to tell me what happened? Besides, I don't think you should; it wouldn't be good to do that, after the Matron and everyone letting us stay in the caverns. It'd make us look rude, y'know?"

He walks further in, hands firmly but gently on either twin (in case he needs to grab them from running off), getting them both to sit at the desktables set out for them, Karkat grabbing a chair from one to sit in.

"C'mon, tell me what happened. Maybe I can help-- we're not culling her, but maybe we can do something else. You don't really want her dead, do you? You don't even want her to feel sorry and apologize for what she's done?"

 

*

 

They shake their heads in unison, little mirror versions of one another.

"She's a liar." Baizli speaks up.

"And a Jadeblood." Barzum adds.

"Nothing really happened," Baizli begins, "she just keeps sinning." Barzum finishes for her twin, both of their ears alert for passing trolls.

Maybe they shouldn't have told Karkat about their plan.

"Can we talk about something else?" Baizli asks.

"You're supposed to schoolfeed us." Barzum swings her legs lightly.

"Lynera talks about things like addition and subtraction,"

"What a cloistered Jadeblood is supposed to do,"

"And the heretical history of The Empire." They swap who speaks with comfortable fluidity.

"Sometimes, we thought about culling her," Barzum admits, "but she's too big, and she has a pointy knife in her block." Baizli, more or less, admits to stalking Lynera.

"Besides, she's not that bad." Barzum says.

"We think she's the best Jadeblood here." Baizli gets up, grabbing a pair of old, worn tomes.

"Even including Karako's Lusus -- but don't tell him that, he'll get mad." Barzum whispers while Baizli grabs their textbooks, and then takes his seat.

"She'd make a good clown, I bet." He says -- probably basing his opinion of her on her prickly attitude and her penchant for knives.

 

*

 

Karkat purses his lips, looking between the twins suspiciously, how they suddenly want to drop the topic.

"Well, alright...," he says, looking over the tomes they bring-- Basic Mathmetrics, Reading & Writing Arts & Comprehension, Central Alternian Histories, that book especially is embossed with the Empress' sign and Karkat can guess why.

"Though...," he continues, making it sound like he's talking to himself than the twins, flipping one of the tomes open, "..culling wouldn't be any good anyway; the only way to deal with a liar is to catch them in the lie...or tell on them," Karkat sighs, as if the twins hadn't heard him, looking back up at them and giving a slight smile. "You think Miss Lynera's the best? She might be pretty pleased to hear that."

First things first, Karkat skims through the pages of each tome, seeing if they're things he already knows or not-- Basic Maths, yes, Comprehensions, of course , and then the Histories...it's a bit iffy for him, being that Karkat only learned what was necessary for him to know about. More than half of this tome is unknown to him.

Looking back to the twins, Karkat asks them about their workbooks, "To start then, why don't the two of you tell me how far in your Maths you are."

 

*

 

"Wrong!" Both twins burst out, ignoring the instruction to open their workbooks.

"You cull liars!" Barzum hisses, her eyes slits.

"How are you supposed to teach us if you don't know basic things like that?" Baizli looks like he wants to cry, crossing his arms and slumping in his seat.

"You cull them, even if they're Indigo or part of your posse, and then you use their blood to make special elixirs, and you grind their bones into special stardust!" Barzum continues, displaying a nasty pair of fangs for a pupa.

"We wouldn't use them, though, if they were from a Jadeblood." Baizli mutters, looking down to the floor.

Barzum's anger is enough to keep the tears at bay, just like Baizli's sadness is enough to keep Barzum from throwing their workbooks at Karkat.

"I never trusted Wanshi, anyways! I don't trust any Jadeblood!" To compensate, Barzum knocks her workbook off the small, wooden desk.

"They're all bad, but Wanshi's too bad to let live." Baizli sounds on the verge of tears, Barzum getting to her feet and grabbing her twin by the arm, leading him from the block in a huff of anger and sadness.

 

*

 

Chitti is as startled as Karkat from their outburst, curling right up into the robes.

They're so upset they won't even give Karkat a way to wedge in wordwise, Barzum especially enraged while Baizli is more distraught that Karkat doesn't know something that's obviously common sense to them, which is apparently killing liars because that's what they deserve.

It breaks his heart, when Barzum says she doesn't trust any Jade-- and of course he knows the reason why, of course, at the root of it, it's all his fault, shoves her workbook off the desk and takes off with her brother.

Why is it every time Karkat thinks things are looking up they find a way to come crashing down.

Why is it for being so weak Karkat sure has a count of hurting those around him.

Why. Why. Ẃ̴̛ ͟͏̕h̷̶ ̵̷̧y̶̢͏͢͞ .

He's done that to them. Kanaya attacked them, yes, but because of him. Karkat may as well have dragged them out to the sun himself for how they've been affected.

His legs feel weak, like they don't want to hold him up anymore, his chest hurts like someone's gone and reached their hand in and they're squeezing his heart fit to pop. Tears are welling hotly in his eyes-- but Karkat doesn't deserve to cry, doesn't deserve to feel hurt because it's not him that's hurting like that.

He wants to let all of those sensations take him at once, it's so very tempting in the same way it was tempting to simply die every time death had been offered to him.

Instead, Karkat picks himself up and out of the block, robes gathered in his hand to run down the tunnels, knows he should look for Gamzee, *is*, but calls out to every troll he passes anyway, "Find the twins! Find Wanshi! Hurry, please!!"

Notes:

Emotional ranting aside, i sectioned off this chapter the way I did for a reason. Like I said, I have always loved how we could have some good moments going for a minute, before we end up throwing a wrench in there. Case and point, cute moments with the pupae and grubs, heartful moments with Xia, and then our tone change, starting with Karkat's talk with Bronya and segwaying for the ending of the chapter, just to show the way it changed so quick. Of course, it's an rp so we couldn't really slowburn it like an actual fic, but we were doing the best we could to get to our plot points without there being too much cut out in the middles.

No one else can really do that with me, vibe the way we did.
I'm really at a loss at this point.
Calling for help, but either no one can hear it, or no one can help me the way I need it.

Regardless, as always, I hope you're okay.

Chapter 32: To A Head

Notes:

Is there anything more to be said? Aside from the depressive nature of this section, at least.

It's hard to give up, even when you want to, even when it feels so hopeless.

I want to stop, I'm already so hurt and tired, how much more despair can I drag myself down into? How much longer do I want to do this to myself?

Still, I have words to fulfill.

Daraya's spooked into action, Lanque not giving the panicked mutant a second glance -- it's Lynera who, hands still wet from washing dishes, turns and dashes for Bronya.
She doesn't know why , but they don't need to know why.
The Matron starts by gathering trolls into one of the many communal blocks, trusting Lanque and Lynera to keep everyone in the room.

Even Chixie and Polypa are rounded up, although Gamzee argues loudly for Marvus to stay in the caravan -- that, whatever this is, he's not involved, and he needs to watch over Chahut.
Karako comes in pulling Wanshi behind him, honk ing quietly.

"Wanshi!" Bronya exclaims, and all eyes turn to the wriggler. She looks just as confused as everyone else.

"What happened? Where were you? Have you seen the twins?" The Matron's voice is measured, Gamzee keeping quiet.

Now, the only trolls unaccounted for are Kurloz, Barzum, and Baizli.

"I was in my block doing some self-feeding!" Wanshi smiles, wide and friendly, hands on her hips. She's a plump, healthy little troll.

The look Lynera gives her goes ignored.

"I really, seriously don't know why everyone started looking for me! I wanted to play Soldier Purrbeasts with the twins after schoolfeeding. It's so cool how they're one troll in two bodies!" While Wanshi talks, Bronya turns her and looks her over, finding no injury.

Satisfied, she turns to Karkat.

"So? I know we cannot participate in conflict-resolution without all parties present, but I still need to know what is going to be resolved! After all, we haven't had a culling in sweeps, and I intend to keep it that way." Karako, this time, stands beside her, while Gamzee moves beside his mate, laying a cool hand to the nape of Karkat's neck.

 

*

 

Karkat waits until Wanshi had toddled off toward the rest of the group before answering Bronya-- the wriggler doesn't need to hear that the twins were planning on culling her --, going from the beginning in a hushed tone.

"I went to the schoolfeed block, but Wanshi had already left and the twins were talking amongst themselves. They seemed upset and wouldn't tell me what exactly for, aside that she'd been lying, but they were upset enough to tell me flat out that they were going to cull her."

Divulging that seems to up the seriousness of the situation, Karkat continuing, "I tried to get them to think or focus on anything else, their schoolfeed work, but the both of them became more upset and stormed out of the block."

Karkat doesn't repeat what they said, he doesn't want them in more trouble; they just need to find them and have an eye on them...and rather than culling, figure out something else to be an outlet for the way they feel and what they've internalized.

He also doesn't divulge any of his own personal feelings on the matter, he does enough beating himself up over it, no need for anyone else to beat him as well.

"With what they were saying when they left, I just wanted the three of them to be found before anything could happen."

 

*

 

"Very good judgement, Karkat!" Bronya beams, even if Karako bristles ever so slightly at the mention of culling .

"I'm glad you're observing and upholding the cloister rules. Strife is disallowed and cullings have no place in the caverns -- that's where conflict-resolution comes in! Although, we need the twins here..."

She twiddlers her thumbs for a moment. There are multitudes of places for pupae to hide, being able to sequester themselves into the smallest of alcoves -- but Kurloz passes by Daraya, dragging behind him a despondent Baizli.

 

It's a rare sight: one twin without the other.

 

Bronya takes note of this, Kurloz seeming to know where to go, Baizli in tow.

"You are... Baizli, correct?" She asks, and the pupa gives the slightest nod, refusing to look anywhere but the ground.

"Can you tell us where Barzum is? The caverns can be dangerous." She pries, although Baizli shakes his head.

"I won't tell you. It's not fair." He mumbles.

"Can you tell me why you want to cull Wanshi?" Gamzee asks, getting Baizli to finally raise his head.

"She's a heretical liar and a Jadeblood. They should pay." He echoes an alteration of the same phrase he's heard throughout his life: make them pay .

Gamzee chirrs in thought, while Karako glares at Baizli.

 

"I understand your -- " Bronya starts, interrupted when Gamzee walks off, pulling his wild hair back into a tie.

"What are you doing?!" The Matron spins, panicked for a moment, forcing herself to become composed.

" Conflict-resolution ." He tosses back over his shoulder, Wanshi blinking innocently up at him.

"It ain't up to the twins whether or not we make them pay . It's up to me." He drops to a crouch before Wanshi, the wriggler plastering on a smile and about to plaster on the charm when her body stiffens, loosens, and her eyes begin to flicker a multitude of colours.

Karako's honking, rather than grow distressed, has stopped entirely.

Xia's quick to come to Karkat's side, although she's hesitant to touch the mutant.

"Karkat, can I try something? I need you to face me, and I'll need you to close your eyes. Is that okay?" She doesn't sound particularly worried, like Lynera isn't bristling and Lanque and Daraya aren't openly shocked.

 

*

 

Karkat would also like to know what Gamzee is doing, saying 'conflict resolution' like that and walking toward Wanshi.

 

Eyes widening as he, and most of everyone else, realize what his mate is doing.

 

Turning to Xia with the concern and almost panic plain on his face, tearing his eyes from Gamzee-- he knows..he thinks Gamzee is going through Wanshi's head, but to do what Karkat can't even imagine-- memories of being told and given the feeling that everything he is could simply be rearranged, changed or removed, just like that flooding into his dread-- for Wanshi.

He probably looks even worse than the dead expression he had earlier, wondering if he had done this, made a wrong choice by involving everyone.

Xia's still waiting for an answer, though Karkat doesn't know what even she means to do.

But...he trusts Xia, enough that he's willing to try what she's trying to do.

"..okay," Karkat whispers, nodding a little shakily and closing his eyes as he fully faces her.

 

*

 

She's assuming Gamzee's going to cull the poor wriggler -- maybe smash her body against the cave walls until it breaks, or choke her to death -- but she stops short when the Indigoblood gets to his feet, dusting off his knees.

"Bronya," he chimes, "I'm letting you know this now, since I wanna leave soon. Wanshi's a heretic. If she don't straighten out, or you have her straightened out, by the next time we up and meet, I'll have to cull her." He sounds cheery, contrasting with nearly every other troll in the block.

All the Indigobloods know what just happened.
Even Xia knows what's happened.
The Limeblood pats Karkat atop the head.

"Nevermind, I was worried for nothing. Wanshi's fine. I guess we should focus on finding Barzum?" Her false cheeriness is, at least, semi-acceptable.

The Jadeblood wriggler falls to the floor, although, with Bronya fussing over her, she comes to and doesn't seem to remember much of what just happened.

 

Gamzee steps over to Baizli, noticing that Kurloz's grip is rather tight on the pupa's wrist; it probably hurts, but he's taking the pain in defiant stride.

"Baizli," he coos, "you can't cull Wanshi, or any of the Jadebloods in this cloister, without my permission. A'ight?" A nod suffices.

"Good. Then, we should leave tomorrow. Kurloz," his gaze moves to his impassive brother, "you'll help me retrieve and load the caravans, won't you?" Another stiff nod; they're not just going to be silently working, he knows as much.

Xia feels foolish, watching the trolls disperse, although Chixie stays nearby, as does Polypa.

"Whenever my mate needs to... fulfill his duties... I close my eyes and hum to myself. Well, I used to do that. It's not such a big shock anymore. Anyway, maybe it'll help you next time."

 

*

 

Karkat doesn't turn around, but that there's not a dead pupa behind him brings some (extremely) small relief.

Gamzee sounds much too cheerful, Xia sounds like she's faking it.

Karkat doesn't know what he wants to do but he wants to do something, anything...why can't wishes such as being able to do things be granted?

 

"....mh, we should look for Barzum..," his own voice sounds distant to his ears, as if his aurals were stuffed with cotton fluff.

He should be more relieved, that at least two of three pupae are accounted for, and for all they know Barzum is hiding out somewhere in the caverns. Should be relieved that Gamzee stopped, that he hadn't done what Karkat thinks everyone expected. And yet there is this gnawing sensation inside him.

Xia says ' duties ', like this was a normal thing to witness, like Karkat should have expected this; says she closes her eyes and hums whenever her mate does something like this.

He doesn't think he can do that as well as she could.

 

*

 

"When I was watching Chahut with Marvus, we didn't see anyone leave the cave." Chixie supplies meekly.

"Polypa, could you...?" Xia turns to the short Oliveblood, putting on a smile since Karkat seems all but incapable of it.

The Oliveblood puts a hand on her hip, almost rolling her eyes.

"It's a pupa . I'm sure I can find her. Chixie, go back outside and watch the cave entrance. The little... grubling might try to get out." Tying her hair back, Polypa strides off, disappearing deeper into the caverns.

Lynera, for once, gives Wanshi the day off -- she claps her fat little hands, looking to Baizli for a moment. Then, she decides he'll be no fun -- he still looks like he's about to cry -- and runs off to the book block for another reread of Soldier Purrbeasts.
Xia goes after her, not even needing to start a conversation before she's asked about the popular franchise.

Gamzee and Kurloz take their leave, and, without Kurloz's tight grip on his wrist, Baizli plops onto the ground, and hugs his knees to his chest. Under the robes, he looks like a small ball with a head, purple-rimmed eyes glassy.

 

*

 

Everyone begins to leave, Chixie to stand watch at the entrance and Polypa deeper into the tunnels for Barzum. Xia goes after Wanshi, who despite the severity of things and the tension that had just been in the air seems all the more chipper for a day off-- unremorseful, his head supplies, whatever she'd done or said having been the sudden turning point to the duration of their stay.

Karkat may have been coddled, but not even he would have acted like that in his wrigglerhood (no, Kanaya and his Lusus taught him better-- in a shot of hypocritical thought, Karkat would have punched anybody who deserved it, which in his mindset at that age was anyone being mean to him or someone else, but that's not on the same level as wanting to cull someone).

 

Kurloz releases Baizli, leaving with Gamzee-- who barely offers a glance, Karkat unsure how to feel about it but he knows he doesn't feel great. Moving to Baizli once they go, Karkat takes great care in approaching him, crouching down and bundling the skirt of his robes, dabbing gently at his tearing eyes, over his face. If Baizli nudges away, Karkat just does his best, moving on to look over his wrist.

He does realize, that Baizli is probably upset at him, Barzum too. That's fine. They can be upset. Even so, that won't stop Karkat from caring, whether they stop or not.

 

*

 

Baizli makes a noise in his throat, wrist limp in Karkat's hand.

The skin is already bruising a deep purple; Baizli knew his wrist would break if he'd tried to struggle free from Kurloz's grip -- and, besides, Kurloz isn't like the others. He doesn't know how to handle small trolls. Chahut used to say he'd even frightened Gamzee when they'd met, knowing no better than to sprint after the sun burnt, starved pupa; like tackling him to the ground wouldn't make him kick and bleat for his Lusus.

"They're not going to find us." He mumbles into his robes, letting his chin rest on his knees.

"No one finds us unless we want them to." Despite the bruising, his wrist isn't sprained or broken. Like any other bruise, it'll darken, discolour, then dissipate.

He'll have to get Kurloz to squeeze Barzum's wrist, too -- hopefully soon, so they're the same again.

"We're leaving soon, right?"

 

*

 

"Yes, we are," Karkat says softly. They'll have to, after that. The cloister probably won't be able to be comfortable with them for a while-- he feels bad for Karako, for a multitude of reasons; even worse for the twins, because he knows what's made them like this.

His heart catches at that sound Baizli makes for Karkat handling his wrist-- Kurloz didn't need to drag him so harshly, Karkat's willing to bet that as young as they are they very much still can be scruffed from the back of their neck, it would have been much easier on Baizli and much less painful too.

Karkat uses featherlight touches to massage his wrist, already an angry mark beginning to appear. Tenderly, Karkat kisses both sides of Baizli's wrist; even though he knows it doesn't really do anything, at one point he used to believe in such magic.

"..Will you let Barzum know..when she's ready, I'll come to find her. Even if neither of you want me to, I'll still come find you." Karkat gently thumbs off more of those translucent Purple tears, careful with the bruised wrist in his grasp, "If I don't know where either of you are, I'll always come find you." Easing his arm around Baizli to stroke down his back, Karkat wants it to be so simple as that, to kiss and rub away pains, especially the ones that aren't on the outside.

"When she's ready, will you help me find her?"

 

*

 

"That's a lie." Baizli hiccoughs, suppressing the sound almost immediately.

"We don't need pupa-lies like that. You won't find us if we don't want you to, and you won't find us if you don't know where we are." He sniffles, getting to his feet.

He rubs away at the residual tears, much less tender than Karkat; it smears his face paint, destroying the pattern he'd paid so much care and attention toward.

"I'm going to go wash my face in the river." He says, heading for the cave entrance.

Outside, Chixie starts -- but Marvus lays a hand on her shoulder.

"That one's Baizli. We lookin' for Barzum." He reassures her, and she calms down as much as is possible.

 

At the stream, Baizli scrubs his face clean, wetting the neck of his robes. He also dips his wrist into the water, but it doesn't do much.

Throughout the night, Kurloz hauls everything from their most ragged cart, piling it into the merchant caravan; it becomes a caravan of precious goods, and whatever valuables they consider themselves to own.

Gamzee makes repeat trips into the city, disguised as a Navyblood, for more beasts to replace those that had died in their absence.

Polypa scours the cavern, incessantly looking for Barzum to no avail. Baizli refuses to give up his twin's location, and forsakes the robes for his own clothing when Kurloz is hauling. He huddles up in the merchant caravan, staring blankly at Chahut's opaque cocoon.

Xia makes sure to stay with Wanshi, even if she's utter trash at playing Soldier Purrbeasts; she entertains the wriggler with questions about the universe and lore, about the characters. It's easier than she thought it'd be, so long as she doesn't mind some jabbing remarks masked in wrigglerhood sweetness.

 

*

 

Karkat doesn't let his face fall in front of Baizli, nor does he follow after him; he won't push any more than that, even if he wants to, even if he wants to swear up and down that he's not lying to them; right now his words won't reach.

It hurts in his chest, and Karkat wants to pound himself for it, nearly does if not for Chitti, reminding him that it'd hidden under his robes, little face popping up through the neck and making a hesitant chirr and chirp; poor sweet thing looks like it wants to cry too.

Smile sad, Karkat pats over it's body, between the horns, giving a gentle peck, "I bet you probably felt that too, earlier, huh...," he wonders, if Chitti would be mature or developed enough to pick up on chucklevoodoos; Karkat would have rather it got a more gentle introduction, he hopes the same for his grubs.

"The same goes for you, too. I'll come find you, even if you don't want me. Do you think I'm lying?" Karkat makes it a point not to say things he doesn't mean. "Will you come find me too?" Chitti makes a sound, whether it's an affirmation or not, Karkat doesn't care, Chitti can tell him otherwise when it's able and wants to.

"Let's see if we can take care of some things on our own, hm? We can manage, can't we?"

If Barzum won't let anyone find her, Baizli too for that matter, then there isn't much Karkat can do aside from prove them wrong.

 

But, there are things to do before they leave the area, and Karkat imagines that they aren't taking Chixie with them.

First things first is taking care of that document, Karkat going back to the school block to borrow black-inked pens and then off to find some quiet block a ways away from..there. He wants to concentrate, which comes easy even with a grub clinging to him under the robes. Maybe that helps him concentrate better, who knows. Eventually, the only things left on the deed he needs are Chixie's color, her signature, and sign-- had copied down Zebruh's in case, well, in case they need Navy clearance at some point; Karkat does still have the bastard's identifications, and they probably need a little more than a name and a body to cash in those banknotes.

Karkat rolls it up pretty, returns the pens and goes back to moving along the tunnels, looking for something to do; he doesn't...want to meet up with anyone just now, wants to be by himself, not minding if he has Chitti for company.

Ends up back in that storage block with the mirror, where he'd checked himself to see if he was carrying. Not much has changed, if anything there's a few more items that have been left in here to store, though nothing really useful or that could fit in his bag. That dusty portrait is still there, and after several minutes of thinking Karkat decides he's going to see what it is-- he knows he's seen something similar before.
It's an old painting, and if Karkat isn't careful, he might end up ruining it without meaning to. Taking a rag to it and meticulously scraping off the grime, bit by bit the picture is uncovered.....
....Karkat leaves the block, the portrait carefully rolled up. He's...in disbelief, and a little bit of shock, but not a lot. Because he has seen that picture before. It's the same one in Kanaya's room-- that was in Kanaya's room, considering the village moved. It's of an older, much older adult Jadeblood, and if he had to hazard a guess on the sign..... Kanaya's sign...

 

He should ask Zhen about it, when he gets a moment. She'd tell him without holding anything back.

After making sure no one is in the kitchens, at least for the moment, Karkat picks up some grain rolls and a soft fruit to take, for him and Chitti, going back through the communal block, now empty, down another tunnel. At this point, he's sort of going aimlessly, trudging along at a slow pace and sharing bites of food between him and the grub stowed under his robes. There hasn't been anything of Barzum yet, and it's probably getting pretty late, maybe, Karkat doesn't know without seeing the sky or anyone telling him.

 

He bets if he could see those strings in his imagination, it'd be so easy to find Barzum, just by following her thread.

 

Without realizing it, Karkat sees that he's walked all the way to where the twins showed him for the celebration, the pool of running water with it's lightly glowering moss. It's still as ethereal and beautiful as it was when they first showed him, Karkat being drawn in.

 

.....What if he jumped in..and stayed down.... no , that's a dumb idea.

 

He sits on the edge, just dangling his feet in, the water pleasantly cool. Chitti crawls out completely, content to curl in his lap and gnaw away at the rest of the fruit, Karkat taking the chance to breathe. Mindlessly, he ends up half-humming, half-singing that song he'd been hearing in his dreams, at least up until a couple of sleeps ago, stroking over Chitti.

 

*

 

The night passes in a bustle, Gamzee and Kurloz donning day cloaks to continue harnessing the newly acquired beasts. They need to be fed and given water.

Marvus offers to help, speaking from inside the shade of the merchant caravan; one of them shakes their head.

It's a bit difficult to tell them apart when they're both wearing day cloaks.

The only two Indigobloods left in the caverns, Karako sticks by Bronya's side, while Zhen makes it a point to avoid the Jadebloods. She wanders aimlessly, takes a nap in a random block, wakes with a start, and then resumes her wanderings.
She's fully-dressed, ice pick in her sash -- just in case.

Xia, she finds, was left to sleep in the book block -- and she could kill that little wriggler, knows now why the twins wanted to do it, knows it'd be just if not for --
She wakes Xia, and leads her to a respite block.

"Fucking Wanshi." The Indigoblood growls to herself, stump raised to her lips to muffle the noise.

"Fucking ingrate. I'll smash her skull in if I see her before we set off." She seethes, spending the day outside Xia's respiteblock.

 

By the time everything is ready to go, it's dusk -- and Gamzee sends Kurloz, clad still in his day cloak, to go find his mate. They're leaving.

Marvus also gets up to relay this message to Karako, Zhen, Xia, and Polypa; Chixie's hitching a ride to the city, but just until they turn off.

 

The horrorterror is a stupid, slow thing. Kurloz is having fun with it. The way it keeps trying to go back to Karkat's mind. He'd just recapture it again and again -- because there's nothing it can do that he hasn't already done short of frying his mind, and Kurloz would gladly accept that death.

Its inky tendrils lead him to a bioluminescent alcove, although he hardly stops to appreciate the beauty. He's too tired. Ashamed. Rage is in there, definitely, but having things to do keeps him from acting rashly.

"We're leaving. Now." He's curt in addressing Karkat.

"Everyone is ready."

 

*

 

It screams, a horrible nasty sound, but it's unsuitable host always reins it back, even when the host it wants is so close . So, so close , it can almost taste how it was to be inside of that poor defenseless pupa, spent all these sweeps locked into his head, smearing memories with it's essence-- how those traces of itself will fester anyway until a new being is born, and it's not there to eat them before they pick it's host apart --, inside of the now grown, developed troll well on his way to be a ripe, young adult. How intimate it was to be such a way, sharing such a body, such a soul-- the things it's seen through those eyes, how it enjoyed being inside of such delightful flesh --, it may as well have been Karkat's mate long before anyone ever had the chance.

It shares these with Kurloz, scrapping together it's shape in an insult as it's the closest it's ever been to it's original, specifically chosen host. Reaching out because he's right there .
And it tries again, violently throwing itself, casting as far as it can out of it's fool captor's mind-- how d͏҉ ̨͘͞a̢͟͠ ̴̷̢͝r̶͟͜͞ ̷̡e͟ he keep it trapped here, in his befouled, rotted space they both know it won't kill him, then it dies too. It will not die before getting back to it's chosen host.

 

And again, Kurloz pulls it back into his foulness, where it thrashes and howls, doing as much damage as it can before being battered back into shapelessness and void.

 

Karkat glances over his shoulder, Chitti bristling in his lap before climbing back up to tuck itself away-- Karkat understands, he still wants to kick Kurloz in the shins, he only hasn't because it might upset Gamzee, even if Kurloz deserves it for pulling such a thing ( and for how he handled Baizli). Sitting a moment longer before pulling back, up and feet out of the water, standing up. Knows Gamzee is probably upset, that he didn't come to get Karkat himself.

"..Has anyone found Barzum yet?" Baizli didn't come back, and why would he? Not that he would have known where Karkat was anyway. He's already gathered some of the glowing moss from the water, squeezed what he could and wrapped it in waxy, protective paper, it should still glow while preserved. Those in mind, he begins to follow Kurloz at his own pace.

 

*

 

"No," he turns, striding out of the hidden alcove, "she will come with us or she will stay." His tongue rubs against the backs of his sharp fangs, sharp enough to bite right through his tongue.

"You're troublesome. Best learn to take your mate's wishes in stride, or you'll have another mate to contend with." After all, keeping the horrorterror locked away isn't for his sake.

It's for Gamzee's sake.

That they're still connected, he'll have to let Gamzee know. They might have to cut the problem out at the root, no matter how far it goes; it's not like they haven't done that before.

 

He points Karkat into the merchant caravan, taking his place in the second; Gamzee is in the third.

The upholstery of the merchant caravan is now a deep burgundy, and the scent of fresh blood has been aired out. Xia, Zhen, and Polypa sit in the back; Zhen has a book in her lap, while Xia and Polypa chat amongst each other.

With no one to lift Karkat into the caravan, Xia comes over, offering her hands.

"The seats aren't entirely dry. You probably shouldn't sit on them." She warns, instead taking a seat on the wooden flooring.

They're off with a lurch, Chixie almost falling over.

"Sorry! I'm not used to riding in these things." She offers a weak smile.

"You get used to it." Polypa retorts, cross-legged and tired.

 

*

 

What was that supposed to mean, that Karkat would end up with another mate? Or that Gamzee would somehow pick up another breeder? It's a stupid remark either way, but Karkat doesn't say anything about it, keeping his tongue and thoughts held in.

He's worried about Barzum. She wouldn't keep hiding just to spite everyone, would she? The twins can't be far apart for so long, can they?

There isn't anyone or anything to ease that worry away.

 

Xia offers out a hand that Karkat graciously takes, being helped up into the caravan; the inside is now a burgundy , but there's nothing to be done about that. It doesn't make Karkat as sick as he thought it would-- he almost wishes it did, just so he can feel bad for Diemen and Vianya; if he's alone again, he'll send them, alone so that he doesn't upset anyone-- he may not be a Burgundy with psionics or the Second Sight, but even just singing should be enough of a funeral to count.

Being told the seats are still wet, Karkat doesn't fancy the color being on him for a while, and so sits on the floor, for now close to Chixie.

"Hey," he begins softly at her, not exactly hushed but not really putting it out there, "I'm sorry, I don't think we'll be able to make it to your gig. And I'm sorry again, to ask if you wouldn't mind bleeding a little bit, to sign your name and your sign." Karkat faces more toward Chixie, pulling the club deed to lay on the floor, pulling a writing tip out as well for her.

 

*

 

"Huh? Oh," she offers a smile, "it's okay, I understand. You've already done a lot for me." She uses the writing tip to pierce her thumb, being that she lacks fangs; she writes her name in her own blood, her sign beside it.

It doesn't take more than two hours for them to reach the outer limits of the city, where Chixie hops off.

She'd give Karkat a hug any other time, but most of the trolls with them seem down, so she just pats his shoulder.

"If you ever come back, feel free to crash at my hive. It's not a lot, but I like it." She waves, watching the caravans trundle off into the distance.

 

"I'd only go back to that city to cull every filthy motherfucker in it." Zhen comments, flipping through her book.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you won't be going into another city anytime soon." Xia replies, hungry but unwilling to say anything to anyone; they'd probably have to stop the caravan, and they lost an excessive amount of time in the caverns.

"Good." Zhen falls silent after that, swaying with the motions of the merchant van.

It's a lot easier to ride in than the other two. Whether because of age or make, it handles the uneven ground much better.

"So," Polypa starts, "we're going South?"

Xia nods after a moment.

"That's usually where The Grand Highblood prefers to stay. Not a lot of trolls that far South. Although, I don't know exactly where he is." She speaks in the same quiet tones as Karkat, although neither Polypa nor Zhen care much.

"He'll find us." The latter states, apparently able to eavesdrop and read at the same time.

 

*

 

Karkat waves Chixie off until his arm hurts, a little sad to part but then again, that's his own fault, getting so attached.

Hopefully, they might meet again, who knows.

 

He sits back down, only vaguely listening to the conversation happening without him. Thinks he should sort out his bag soon, but not right now. Karkat tunes back in around the mention of The Grand Highblood, Zhen saying that he'd find them, assumingly once they were in the right area. It's nice to think of it as he probably feels that much for Xia, that he'll know where she is once she's close enough Zhen had told him that the progenitor was clingy, much like Gamzee was. He hopes his temper is much better, at the very least that he holds his hands back-- Xia had said that he could possibly slap her head off, but Karkat would like to think better of him.

There's still some grain rolls wrapped in his bag, and he feels foolish for not thinking to share while Chixie was with them but he can't do anything about it now (plus, he's sure in the city she'd probably be able to eat a meal in peace as the owner of her own club).

"Xia," Karkat turns to face her, handing out a roll and not letting her refuse it, doing the same for Zhen and Polypa. Chitti is fast asleep and full, and Karkat would have done the same for Baizli and Barzum if they'd been in the merchant van with him...if Barzum had made it on at all.

 

He wants to ask Zhen, about what he found, but she seems pretty peeved and irate, he'd rather not have her show that she's upset with him.

Afterward, Karkat scoots himself to sit by Chahut-- squinting he can see the outline of her body, but otherwise he's sitting next to a slightly hardened case of silk, anchoring strands keeping her in place and the rest keeping her body nice and sealed for a proper metamorphose. He'd like to think that Chahut wouldn't be so upset with him, but Karkat thinks he knows how she'd look at him too.

Notes:

Like how Karkat thinks Chahut would think, I think of you, too, my friend. Maybe you'd be disappointed and disgusted.

How long has it taken to get to this point? Almost three years? What else can I do? I don't know, I don't know anymore.

I hope you're alright.

Chapter 33: Tranquility in Twilight

Notes:

This time I really didn't mean to take so long to update. I've gotten some heavy news recently about my physical health and a concern about my expectancy of life if not handled well. I've started treatment, and will continue to go through it, so I suppose this is a heads up about other long times between posting a chapter.

I keep saying it should be easy, all I have to do is section it out and edit it and post. But it's not that simple, and now it's even more fire under my rear to put these up. My friend, I know you've not reached back once since I've started doing this, but I will say it would be a nice surprise and I would most definitely be uplifted. It's coming to the day soon, you know?

I know I'm entitled to nothing, not owed anything at all. It just would be really nice to hear from you, is all.

Xia and Polypa take their rolls, while Zhen splits hers among the two Greenbloods, returning to her book.

By the time they stop for the day, already having covered a good distance, Zhen's almost nodding off, and a pervasive fatigue settles on the caravan.

Gamzee, Kurloz, and Marvus set up the tents, Karako taking all the others with him to the stream -- sans Baizli or Barzum.

Xia has to hold Zhen's sleeve like she's a wriggler, tugging her along.
At the stream, rather than wash, Xia tries to pick some things for them to eat; berries, bark, mushrooms. Karako's back in his Indigoblood attire, belts of knives hanging at his hips; he'd go hunting for a beast, but he doesn't hear anything.
Zhen tiredly scrubs her face, Polypa just doing the bare minimum to avoid reeking.

"Your hygiene's as bad as ever." Xia remarks.

"Not like I'm dressing up for a fancy meal. I'd probably get culled, anyway." Polypa shoots back.

Karako honks when she starts to walk off, but Xia assures him that she'll be fine.

 

Back at camp, Xia starts to dig a pit, dumping in small twigs and dry grasses. Not that she really knows what they're going to cook, other than boiling the bark and mushrooms together for a weak, watery broth.

At least the berries have sugar in them.

"We will trade in another city tomorrow," Kurloz says, sewing together the old pelts of long-dead beasts.

"Oh... okay. I'll try to scavenge for more food." Xia replies, returning to the stream to grab more edibles; bark, berries, anything that looks like it could help.
Zhen sighs.

"Indigobloods can go a while without eating. Just make sure you, Karkat, and the grub have enough food." She turns her gaze to Karkat.

"Even pupae will be fine. Besides, I wouldn't count on seeing them for a while. That brat wriggler really deserved to be culled, the way she lied left and right and then let Xia sleep in that cramped book block. You should go lick your mate's feet clean for the restraint he showed. I'd have cracked her skull on the ground and watched her pan ooze out of her aural canals." Karako honks at her, and Zhen hisses.

" Divine right , motherfucker, or have you forgotten you're a motherfucking Indigoblood ?" Karako looks ready to slap Zhen.
Polypa huffs.

"Guess she picks fights with everyone, huh? Maybe panrot isn't so bad, if it makes her more docile." She murmurs.

 

*

 

Once Karkat notes that neither of the twins are even with their group, eyes searching between the caravans, he's counting and recounting everyone with them until he's doubly sure that the both of them are missing.
Zhen says they'll be fine, even without food for a bit, while also making him wish Gamzee had just ignored him and culled the wriggler-- their relations with the cloister would have all but diminished, Bronya would probably never allow them back, might not now either, even....even for Karako (or maybe only Karako), but the twins would be with them and everyone might not be so upset. He nods at her though, understanding that it's his fault once again.

Her and Karako look about to get into it, Karkat turning toward Polypa with a sigh, "Well, she's pretty likable lucid, more so when she's got no reason to be mad at you," he starts a weak smile before it falls altogether, not quite up to even faking one, covering it up by splashing water at his face, finishing washing up in the stream; carefully extracting Chitti to wash the grub, wetting the end of the robes to dab at it's face, over it's segmented carapace until he's got a clean healthy grub.

Should probably wash his Olive tunic and leggings, though that can be done later.
Finished up in the stream, Karkat lets their group know that he's going to help scavenge; there are some trees scattered around, maybe he can poke down some eggs, if he's that lucky, find some more berries, some other edible plants-- maybe he'll be so lucky after this bad turn he'll catch a hop-fiend to..to slaughter, who the fuck knows.

 

*

 

"Guess I'll look for food, too." Polypa sighs, collecting edible grasses and digging at the bases of trees for long, edible roots.

Zhen hisses at Karako again, muttering in Beforian on her way back to the caravan; Karako's purple in the face, but keeps each non-Indigo in his sight.

Polypa catches a nut-beast, breaking its fragile body between her hands with a fibrous crunch . She inspects nearby trees for any stashes of nuts, but ends up with little.

"Some meat." She says, holding the beast by its tail.

"That's a whole mouthful, isn't it?" Xia teases dryly.

When her arms are full of edibles, she nudges Karkat.

"It's getting early. We should go back." It's less a suggestion and more a notice because, whether or not Karkat wants to see Gamzee, he's the Indigoblood's mate. It's not his place or his choice to sequester himself away. At least, that's how Xia's been taught and raised.

"Go check on your mate. I'm sure this isn't good for him, either." With Polypa and Karako out of earshot, she bends, whispering.

"You're his mate. If he needs you, you have an obligation to go to him. If he turns you away, then he turns you away. Indigobloods are fickle." She straightens up and walks off, like she'd said nothing.

 

Gamzee, meanwhile, is trying to rest in the main tent.

He hasn't slept in so long that his thoughts are sluggish at best, and his body feels incredibly heavy; he's laid out on his side atop a pile of furs, curled up tightly like a wriggler.

Marvus, too, is tired -- but not near so much as Gamzee.

Karako posts himself inside the merchant van, checking over and cleaning Chahut's cocoon before hanging out the back end of it.

 

*

 

Finding something is better than nothing, Karkat gathering his own collection of roots and mushrooms while looking impressed at Polypa having caught a nut-fiend.

It's not a lot but it'd add something to the pot.

 

Xia suggests that they head back, before more or less saying to him to go to Gamzee. Karkat knows he has to go talk to him at some point, whether he's keen or not on it. Xia had said the worst he could was not want to see Karkat, and Karkat hopes that she's right; as fickle as Gamzee could be, Karkat knows that's not the worst he could do.

He unloads whatever he had collected by the pot, taking out what of the grain rolls he had left, they could probably be added in or just eaten like that, all save two for Gamzee. First Karkat goes back to Xia, asking if she wouldn't mind taking Chitti while he's seeing to his mate-- if Gamzee can threaten to cull pupae and grubs and be so close to doing it in front of him, he'd rather not bring along Chitti; they've already lost two pupae.

It feels like before being directed to the main tent, Karkat steps in carefully-- he hadn't realized he could miss the floor being covered in furs, had forgotten how surprisingly nice it was --, spying Gamzee curled on his side over a pile.

Karkat is decidedly nervous, for good reason he thinks, but all he can do is swallow it away as he approaches Gamzee. He seems to be resting and Karkat's sure he's mostly a bother at this point, his mate's back facing the rest of the tent. Just so that he's not looming, Karkat sits behind him, back to back, just enough space that he's not an irritation and making a soft chirr so his mate knows that he's there.

 

*

 

Like an unfurling flower, Gamzee's limbs relax as he shifts onto his side, splaying out fully when he's facing his mate's backside.

He returns the soft chirr, arms reaching, around Karkat and pulling the mutant close atop the furs.

The Indigoblood returns to his former compact position, albeit looser with Karkat now settled firmly against him. He hides his face in his mate's hair, and inhales deeply.
Exhaling, he relaxes, like he intends to sleep among the hustle and bustle -- and he probably could, the purpling around his eyes now dark enough to definitively identify him as an Indigoblood, despite the Navy garb he has yet to change out of.

"Y'got that stress-sweat smell on you." He slurs his words against the nape of Karkat's neck, where he can still smell everything; even a hint of the cloister, and those high-necked robes.
"D'you hate me?" He asks, voice muffled.

"They're all diss'pointed in me in s'me way. Y'gotta be, too." Although, if Karkat is disappointed in him, or if Karkat hates him, then he's still going to cling to the small, warm mutant.

"P'thetic." He'd like to cry, like Baizli, and he'd like to rage, like Barzum, but he's not a pupa or a wriggler; he should've just culled the Jadeblood.

At least Chahut wasn't around to see anything, though she'll doubtless hear of it.

 

*

 

He's not expecting for Gamzee to turn and pull him in, long limbs wrapping Karkat into his chest. Unexpected and a little confusing, but not at all unwelcome, Karkat relaxing fully into his mate.

His brow knits in worry when Gamzee asks him that.

"..No, I don't. I thought you were upset with me." He did, thought everyone was (but Karkat supposes he should really get over himself, it's not always about him, no matter how it looks).

His tone is gentle, quiet, not meant for others to hear if they're passing by the tent or the two of them on the pile. "I'm not disappointed," Karkat breathes slow, moves slower, turning so that he's facing Gamzee-- looking over his face with concerned pity, how tired he looks; was he beating himself over what happened?

"I'm...actually really, really relieved...that you didn't cull a wriggler. At least not in front of me," he continues, shifting until both hands are free and he can get at Gamzee's face, tracing gently under his eyes, over his cheeks. "A child is constantly growing, changing. There's always room to grow and learn. You can't always say for sure whether or not a wriggler that's bad now is going to be bad later. None of us can say for sure if Baizli and Barzum," on that, his voice breaks, but Karkat doesn't let it stop him, "...are going to stay the same. Even Chitti, once they pupates they're going to decide who and what they are, how they look at other trolls and theirself. We don't know for sure, all we can do as those that came before them is provide guidance and hope for the best."

Even their own grub, and other possible grubs they might have.

Karkat is quiet for a long moment, thinking, ".......I made a dumb assumption. I thought the twins would listen to me, at least hear me and rethink what they wanted to do. I didn't want them to cull Wanshi, I just wanted them to think of something else to do to her, I don't know, get her in trouble maybe or something to make her think of what she'd done. There's always another way......," he's quiet again, before looking up at Gamzee, "....if we come back this way, to the cloister, at some time later, and Wanshi hasn't changed, hasn't learned....do as you must."

He will not even blink, if ever they get to such a point.

"You are not pathetic. I don't see you like that. Mercy is a strength. Restraint is a strength. Even gentleness is a strength."

 

*

 

Gamzee's eyes flutter shut, Karkat's warm touch tracing his features.

"Wasn't merciful or gentle. Jus' didn' want you t'hate me. 'S it." He deflates with a sigh, turning into Karkat's hands.

"Sometimes, y'gotta cut th' rotten appendage off t' save th' body. Wanshi's th' rotten appendage. I'll be surprised 'f Lynera or Daraya's still 'live when we go back." Gamzee might buy that her malice comes from misunderstanding if she were a pupa, but the twins already have a moral compass.

Wanshi being older than them -- being a wriggler -- doesn't help her case.

Although, they're too far now for anything to be done. Gamzee'd already made his decision. Not out of mercy or the want to show kindness to a wriggle, but to selfishly ensure he doesn't fall into his mate's bad esteems.

 

A shrill little squee has his eyes opening, bleary, slow to adjust to the light.

Xia's returned with Chitti, who happily munches small, ripe green berries.

"Aren't you two comfortable?" She goes over to the fire pit, depositing her goods; Polypa does the same, making use of her sharp claws to skin the nut-creature.

Gamzee grumbles, burying his face back into Karkat's hair.

" Wriggler ." She teases, grabbing a pail to go fetch some water.

Marvus is relaxing, too, stripping the hardest outer layers of the bark and separating the mushrooms.

"Phat Kat, you finna come dine?" There's a roll in there, no doubt from the cloister; it's slightly stale, but they can hardly afford to be choosy.

"We're gonna have t' raid t'morrow." Gamzee mumbles, stretching his legs out until they shake, before going limp again.

"Ain't got 'nough caeger for food." And they need sugar -- honey, fruit, anything sweet -- which comes at a higher cost than meat.

 

*

 

Karkat bets if he'd seen what Gamzee saw going into Wanshi's mind, he might agree; there isn't much to do with a bad egg but throw it away.

"They'd better be. If she's that rotten to cause such things, I'd probably have half a mind to cull her myself." He'd gotten a little attached to Daraya, enough that he'd feel such a way. "If I can bloody a Violet, I'm sure I can do it to another troll."

Karkat glances, as much as he can anyway, toward that bitty little squee , hearing Xia and Chitti come in. Cheeks dusting with red as she notes how the both of them are, though trying not to snort when she calls Gamzee a wriggler. Has half a mind to blurt out like hers isn't but he hasn't seen it for himself.

The thought of meeting The Grand Highblood doesn't make him as jittery as it would have earlier but there's still some things that could make him nervous if he thinks too long on it; not right now though.

 

He's asked by Marvus if he's coming to eat, though Gamzee has his attention by speaking of raiding, saying they don't have enough money--

"Ah..!!" Karkat sits up, maybe too quick for Gamzee's liking but he's already rifling through his bag, papers rustling as he grabs every banknote he can find, the identification tag and Zebruh's signature he lifted from the club deed, big cheeky grin spreading on his face as he shows Gamzee, "We might have some caegers, if we can cash these in before you raid."

 

*

 

Karkat does shoot up much too quickly for Gamzee's liking, the fatigued Indigoblood whining as he pulls himself upright.
It takes a moment for his brain to make sense of what Karkat's showing him.

"... You want me to go to a finance hive tomorrow to cash all these...?" He is dressed the part, and there isn't really anyone who can say that he isn't Zebruh Codakk. Not unless they know him personally but, being a city away, Gamzee doubts it.

Most trolls don't travel too much, or too far.

"Hope that m'fucker was a rich one." He flops back down, already dreading the daunting task ahead of him -- although, during dawn, everything seems daunting.

It isn't that he despises finance hives. It's that he barely knows anything about them. They hold excess money -- that is already a foreign concept to him -- and dole it out upon request. Does he need special papers?

 

"Y'gonna have to do better than that, Phat Kat -- though, that's already pretty wicked. Them centralised financial hives been crackin' down on forgery. Requirin' blood-proof you ain't some lowblood dressin' up in highblood 'finery'." Marvus huffs a laugh.

"Wouldn't happen to have any of that Navy swill on you, would you? Might jus' have to find us a fuckin' donor."

 

*

 

"Motherfucker was rich enough to buy servants, he's rich enough to make a donation," Karkat says chipperly, though seeing that Gamzee's not too keen on it tones his cheekiness down.

It probably is a longshot, there's a lot of things to say that it might not even work, even with identification and the signature. Heck, even with Gamzee's good acting, someone still could set their eye on them just because.

Well, if all else fails, Karkat supposes that raiding a finance hive will get them a hefty amount of caegers.

Even if Karkat puts all his brainpower to work, their chances are still kind of low.

Marvus saying so and that places like that were cracking down on forgeries have him pouting, laying back down next to Gamzee. So much for that plan. "..no, I don't..."

Huffing softly and grumbling quietly as he tries to think things through some more.

"......could pro'lly make it, I dunno...."

If someone was willing to give up some Purple, he just needs some green-- with enough blue in it, like cyan or something. Can't be harder than making dyes.

 

*

 

Gamzee suddenly breaks out into a cackle, the tent filled with his laughter.
It's short-lived, however.

"Don't make jokes on that type of heretical nonsense. Something calls for blood, you use blood. 'Less you got a gland in you what produces Navy blood. That'd be convenient." He warns Karkat, lazily reaching out to pat his stomach.

"Why don't y'do congregate with our Brothers? 'S more entertainin' than lyin' 'side your mate, I bet." At the very least, Karkat could nibble on some berries -- and Xia returns with a pail of water, suspending it over the fire.
The bark is put in first, then the meat; once it's reached a boil, the mushrooms and greens are added.
Xia looks at the berries, unsure of what to do with them.

"Do you know anything to do with plain berries? I mean, besides using them as make-up." She asks Karkat, crouched before the fire.

"It's not really enough sugar for us." She says, then leans in a bit closer.

"Zhen's looking for some honey. She knows the difference between mind-honey and regular honey. I doubt she'll find any, but she said she'll be back before daylight."

 

*

 

That just makes him pout more. Has half a mind to nip Gamzee for more or less saying his idea is dumb, never mind heretical.

Despite his huffiness at his idea being shot down twice over, Karkat puts a soft palm to Gamzee's cheek, lingering until he does that, sitting up as Xia returns with water.

It's put to boil, whatever they were able to find is added in and left to simmer, Xia contemplating the berries.
Karkat hums in thought, scooting closer to her as he tries to think of something, "...How sweet are those? If they're sweet enough, we could make it into a jam? But I'm not sure if we even have enough...," when his head comes up blank, Karkat musses his hair, getting slightly frustrated that he can't think of anything. Honey would help, would help in preserving it too.

Sollux had a knack for finding honey hives, both plain and mind honey, when they'd both go out to the woods-- before Karkat was disallowed. He'd say weird things like the bees, honey-buzzes and whatever other name for them he could think of, could speak to him. Karkat couldn't really dispute it, since the dead and about-to-die would scream in his ear until Sollux cried.

"Honey would be good, for a lot of things, but..will Zhen be alright?" Karkat mimics her leaning, "Shouldn't we go after her? Bring her back before dawn?" Zhen being able to take care of herself, while lucid, doesn't make him any less worried about her.

 

*

 

Xia shrugs.

"She's... not having a good time. The Grand Highblood isn't half as lenient, and Zhen's spent her life reading scripture. Being off on her own for a while will help her better than forcing her in here for her own 'safety'. She might just hurt herself or someone else." Not that Xia's counting on Zhen calming down without a proper resolution anytime soon, but she keeps that to herself.

"Until then, I'll mash the berries into a paste. If we heat it over the fire, we could drink the juice, and then eat the pulp. Chitti already ate." Xia grabs a shallow bowl and a smooth stone, piling the berries into the bowl before beginning the task of pulping them.

The grub, likely more at-ease and well-fed than it has ever been in its short life, all but tumbles off Xia's shoulders while she works, landing on soft, fluffy furs. It curls up and chirrs, its body a little vibrating ball.

 

Although he wants nothing more than to sleep, Gamzee sits up.

"Bring th' lil' motherfucker on over here. 'S gonna have t' get used t'me." He mumbles, wondering if the grubling inside Karkat would have the same reaction to him -- but, surely not. It's partially him. Wouldn't it recognise him as its progenitor?

Granted, that doesn't make him safe , but it's got to count for something, right?

His mind is too addled to properly think that through, or to ask Karkat about it -- but he does know he doesn't want to have to let Chitti gnaw on his fingers every time it becomes aware of him.
He hopes that'll go away when it pupates.

 

*

 

Karkat can't really say anything to that, looking down as Xia takes to mashing the berries. Being alone does help things sometimes, sort out one's head, but not always.

Zhen is probably going to be upset for a bit, whether with him or with the situation, that's fine, she has every right to be anyway.

 

He moves things that Xia might need closer to her, just so that he's not sitting there, doing nothing-- he bets if he found some things from outside, he could probably make a basket, make something useful. Thanks Xia for feeding the grub-- have the twins eaten? Are they somewhere safe, where the sun won't reach them?.

Chitti tumble-crawls off of her shoulder, Karkat's heart almost catching as the grub lands on soft furs, internally sighing once he processes that it's alright, looking extremely pleased and fed, chunky little thing, curling right up and purring into sleep.

Gamzee calls to bring Chitti over, bringing half a smile back up on Karkat's face, gently scooping the grub up and moving back toward his mate.

"Are you sure? It can get used to you awake too," well, gnawing on fingers and still wanting to hiss doesn't really show that great of a relationship. If Gamzee wants to hold the grub without having his fingers eaten, now is probably the time while Chitti is much more concerned with sleeping off it's meal.

Karkat carefully turns the grub in his arms-- thanks so much to all that time that went to grub-sitting instead of reading --, making it easier for Gamzee to hold, offering it with it's legs up, "Mind for it's head, support it with your arms or hold the grub to your chest.."

 

*

 

“Y’got it.” The grub is warm to the touch, its little body running hot. Nothing abnormal for a healthy grub. An alert, cautious state of mind probably points to a healthy one, as well.
Chitti is taken and laid atop the flat, firm plane of Gamzee’s stomach; he reclines, grinning at the feeling of the grub purring.

“See?” He’s extremely quiet, lacing both hands protectively over the grub’s tender backside.

“It likes me.” That’s a lie, and he knows it, but he can’t help but let his shoulders shake with quiet laughter.

Even if their grubling comes out hissing and biting at his fingers, it’ll adore Karkat. Then, when the little ball of instincts has been fattened and made to feel safe, it can get used to Gamzee — who, probably, just signals some type of danger, or at least excites the grub.

Right now, however, Chitti looks like it could care less who it slept on, just that it gets some sleep.

Gamzee would like to be so carefree.

“Got anymore rolls?” He asks, rather suddenly.

“Baizli’s hidin’ out by the third caravan. Th’ one I was drivin’. Why don’t y’go leave a lil’ somethin’ for their lil’ gastric sacs? Barzum ain’t gonna be far.” The twins are never far from one another; it’s impossible for Barzum to be back at the cloister while Baizli is all the way out here.

 

*

 

It's pretty picturesque, Karkat wishes he had something to capture the way Gamzee looks, hands gently over the sleeping grub. So careful with something so fragile, making a joke when they both know that Chitti isn't all that partial to Gamzee, not in the way it took to Karkat or Xia. Still, has to like him a little bit, that it's not fussing on it's chosen bed.

"It'll like you, you'll see," Karkat leans in, making sure Kurloz isn't in earshot or sight before whispering, "...if it makes you feel better, Chitti doesn't like Kurloz either. At all. Poor thing crawled in my clothes the moment he came to get me. So I think you have much better chances."

The thought of Kurloz trying to hold or sleep with a grub the way Gamzee's doing, Karkat can't see it (he pities the imaginary grub for being in such a position).

The thought of the possibility of Karkat having been mated to Kurloz instead of Gamzee......not only gives Karkat a shudder but he can't imagine the elder wanting anything to do with any grubs they might have had; can't even imagine Kurloz making the effort to keep Karkat from hating him; on that Gamzee's more than earned his pity and then some.

 

Karkat perks in question, Gamzee asking if he had more rolls; the worry coming back into his features as he mentions Baizli.
"..Yeah, I do....I'll be back..," rising, Karkat moves to swiftly peck Gamzee's cheek, cause as little disturbance as possible before he leaves the main tent.

Outside, Karkat is eager to get to their third caravan, probably a little too hopeful that he'll see one or both of the twins. Predictably dejected when he doesn't immediately see either. Scanning over the caravan and making a quick look inside to no avail, looking out over the road they were just on, as if he might spot one of the pupae.

"....Baizli..!" Karkat calls, not too soft that no one hears him, but not so loud that his voice echoes. He takes the rolls from his bag, keeping them wrapped up while still looking around, though there isn't even a peep or rustle of noise. "...Save some for Barzum...," he says, leaving the rolls on the back of the caravan where it can be spotted, hopefully by the twins before something else, Karkat hesitant to walk back to the main tent, just in case he might miss seeing them.

 

*

 

Playing a two-troll game of flee-and-pursue is no fun when no one is really pursuing them, and, while they were both too stubborn to move an inch during the night, with the coming day, they're starting to hunger and tire and thirst.
When Karkat comes around with food for them, Baizli only waits for him to be out of sight before climbing from the trunk he'd been hiding inside; the lid makes a solid, heavy thunk as it shuts behind him.

He hears his sister stir from her place, peeking out.
He grabs the package, takes a peek outside, and then scuttles back into the caravan, finding two rolls. Barzum takes her share, and he has his own, ripping the baked grain roll into bite-sized pieces.

 

When the Sun is almost out, to the point that Zhen has to keep her gaze glued to the ground lest her eyes begin to water and tingle, she makes her return to the tents.

Right outside, she finds a little satchel of chocolates.

"Someone left the breeders a little present." She steps into the furred shelter, bag of chocolate dangling from her hand.

Xia's placed the bowl of mashed berries atop the boiling soup, stirring it with a wooden spoon every once in a while.

She perks up at Zhen's return.

"Those are the twins' chocolates, aren't they?" She looks at Karkat, wondering if they should eat them.

Chitti should probably not -- it's too busy sleeping atop Gamzee, anyway -- but the two of them could benefit from more sugar. Especially since Zhen didn't seem to find anything.

The small Indigoblood plops the bag down between the breeders, her skin lightly flushed from the Sun.

"Well, you'd better eat them. I found a hive, but I couldn't find the damn Queen. It's also much more difficult to climb trees missing a hand and a horn. I was already shit at it when I had all my parts."

 

*

 

There isn't the right kind of grass outside to weave anything, so Karkat only ends up coming back in with things to add to the fire.

He hopes that the twins will be alright.

Looking up as Zhen steps inside, Karkat's eyes widen at the bag of chocolates in her hand; it means that the twins are at least with them, at least one of them, on the caravans. It also means that despite not wanting to be out and around anyone they're still sweet enough to do such a thing.

"Yeah, they are...," Karkat resolves to find another sweets shop in the next city, assuming he's going in at all, knowing that Gamzee plans to raid their next area.

That he won't stand in the way of; he'd said to Gamzee that he wouldn't make him change his ways, though without meaning to he still did, and Gamzee said he would hear Karkat out if he had another way. Well, he did, and there were flaws in that plan, so if it's truly undoable then, what else can they do?

Karkat shakes the thoughts from his head, smiling at Xia, "If they've left it for us then it should be alright. As long as there's a sweets shop at the next place we hit up then I can get them more." And if Zhen will show him tomorrow, he could probably climb up to get the hive she found.

Once the pot of stuff is deemed ready, and the bowl of berries mashed, those who are eating gather up and set in. Karkat wonders how Barzum's eyes are; he'd like to take one of his plants from the merchant caravan for her, the fleshy one with the jelly inside. Even though it's not sopor it's still an effective medicine in it's own right, and he's sure it'd work to help heal her eyes the rest of the way.

 

*

 

The soup is alright.
Not compared to what they had from the cloister -- paid in full from the gems of Karkat's dress -- but even Xia can chew through the softened bark.

It'd be a lie to say that she doesn't miss all the sweetened dishes from the cloister, her body craving sugar, but sharing both the berry juice, pulp, and chocolate with Karkat helps quell some of her cravings.
Halfway through the meal, she looks behind her.

Gamzee's asleep on his back, Chitti still resting on his stomach; his hands almost encase the grub's backside, its little legs curled up comfortably.

"Look at them." She nudges Karkat.

"He must know where the twins are, Karkat. He must know they're safe. How could he sleep like that, otherwise?" She keeps her voice low, not wanting to be heard by the others. The last thing she wants is to be seen as grub-crazy.
Even if she may be a little grub-crazy.

Polypa joins them in eating, and Xia had dragged Zhen to eat, considering she's healing from her injuries. Marvus is content with whatever leftovers there may or may not be, and Kurloz is now dissecting the fabric of Karkat's gown; he makes sure to follow the seams, carefully undoing all the hard work the screamstresses no doubt did.

Zhen makes a face.

"Is that mass of tulle and silk your old dress, Karkat? Fuck , that's awful. That wouldn't look good on anyone." She mumbles, gnawing on a piece of bark.

 

*

 

Karkat nods at Xia, slowly savoring a piece of chocolate-- they've got to make it last, and eating slowly is supposed to make one feel fuller, or that's what old folks say anyway. Looking over in total agreement of how his mate looks sleeping with a grub and about the twins' whereabouts.

"He told me Baizli is hiding around in one of the caravans," he whispers back, keeping the tone (not that Karkat is grub-crazy either, he just...... he's not grub-crazy ), "They wouldn't stay apart for too long, or so far. I took some food out there for them, but they must still be upset that they won't come out."

For a lot of reasons, Karkat thinks he knows, a belief that they've been taught was not upheld because his mate didn't want him to hate him; a bad Jadeblood is not dead and all Jadebloods are bad because to them Kanaya may as well held them under the sun to burn, given them that trauma that no Jadeblood can be trusted, and even smaller things that add up into one big mess.

There's isn't as much talking as in the caverns, and understandably there isn't as many trolls that want to converse while eating. Yet to Karkat's surprise Zhen makes note of Karkat's wedding dress, now stripped of gems and being carefully dismembered by Kurloz.

Of course, Karkat never misses a chance to complain about that abomination.

"Damn right you are it was awful. You should have seen it before, it was even worse. Awful and gaudy. I bet if you'd have been there you'd have shredded the damn thing up. My-- she wanted to," Karkat clamps his mouth on outright mentioning Kanaya, correcting himself before continuing, glossing over his words (he really needs to learn censorship better), "I've never worn anything so unnecessarily that my whole short life." Not even when Kanaya wanted him to model on her tailoring stand, and Karkat was very opinionated about half the things she tried on him too; none of those came close to being as awful as that sad excuse of a wedding gown.

 

*

 

"I'd have done more than that. I'd find the screamstresses and shred them , their quadrants; that fish fucker you were supposed to mate. I'd make a dress from their skin and hang it outside the palace walls." Zhen's obviously never heard of eating slowly, gulping the contents of her bowl in one go.

She at least has the manners to chew behind her stump, swallowing a lump of ingredients.

It's never taken much to feed her, but she's been less hungry lately. With a sigh, she settles the bowl onto the floor.

"I'd probably lose more of myself doing it, but those are the risks you take. Besides, I'd rather be in a caravan of malicious, horny adult Indigobloods than deal with an irate Grand Highblood." Xia takes her bowl, scooping her another portion of broth.
The Indigoblood grumbles.

"Anyway, did the screamstresses even try ? I bet it looks better the more Kurloz rips it to pieces -- for sale, I'm assuming? Silk and tulle aren't going to keep you warm up Northside."

"That's right... What'll you do if your grub isn't Purple?" Xia asks, implying mutant rather than outright saying it.

"Would your caravan move to a more temperate area while the grub pupates? If a grub gets too cold, it can hibernate -- but it won't grow, and I've heard it might lead to a defective pupa."

 

*

 

The thought makes Karkat snort, almost choke on his mouthful, of Ampora being made into a dress-- rather his skin, as gory and gross as the actuality of it sounds. It wouldn't make him look any better but it'd do a whole lot of good for just about everybody.

"What they tried was to make a tasteless princeling dipshit and his dumb nasty advisors happy and that meant go bloody ham with the bedazzler. I'd felt sorry for the screamstress if I didn't know they profited from their shoddy job."

Kanaya would never let anything of hers be called shoddy or gaudy, that's for sure.

"I'm pretty sure we're selling it. I mean it's a lot of silk and tulle, but I'm not sure what can be made with it that's useful..," well, if he thought about it, the tulle could probably be used to strain and pan things, he wouldn't know what until it was in front of him, but it could; as for the silk, if there was enough salvageable from it, he could have an extra swaddling cloth.
Though both Zhen and Xia make a point, about going Northside; he's sure any grub with his Red won't be able to stand it much, even if Gamzee told him Karkat wouldn't freeze over.

"That...well, we discussed it, and if we can there's probably somewhere that's smack dab in the middle, y'know? It's cold enough but not too cold, warm enough but not hot. If it is possible, it's still a longshot finding a place like that. Not that I would even know, since I've never been anywhere but my village and Ampora's city. And, you know, everywhere else we've been."

 

*

 

"I don't use a lot of tulle when I sew." Zhen says, lifting her sleeve.

"It's better to embroider, in my opinion. That takes time, and you need your pan on right to make a good pattern; tulle is just some fluffy, frilly shit that highbloods lust after." Whether or not that includes Indigobloods, she doesn't say.
Xia gives up trying to get through tougher pieces of bark, giving it to Zhen.

"I'm not as hot-blooded as you, but The Highblood still moved his usual spot to somewhere I could feel more comfortable. Most of the sweep, I was still swaddled in beast fur, but Indigobloods can live in really cold places."

"Duh," Zhen takes the pieces of bark with her good hand, "it keeps us out of reach of Her. Not that she has much of an actual reach. The night she comes out of the sea is the night I motherfucking ascend." She cackles, eating the bark.

"I hope she chokes on a dead slither creature." Xia adds, and all trolls present and awake -- sans Polypa -- toss in their two cents on what they hope to happen to The Empress.

Even Kurloz wishes her a horrible death.

Polypa, however, shrugs.

"Sharing those kinds of sentiments gets you culled." She'd already finished her portion.

"It hasn't, yet." Xia retorts.

"Your luck is going to run out one day, Xia, and no one will be able to do anything for you." Polypa tries to sound disaffected, but it's clear this is a conversation they've had multiple times.

Xia just smiles.

"I'll go when my time's up. Or my luck. Whichever happens first." Polypa sighs, rolling her eyes.

"Besides," Xia finishes her bowl, feeling full and a bit sleepy, "Karkat's also been lucky, like me. Probably more so than me. At least I was never betrothed to a fish ."

 

*

 

Karkat hums his agreement, embroidery takes both a long time and a lot of skill, remembering the dress Zhen made for him; she said it was short notice but it's beautiful for not having a lot of time, and maybe he's biased because it was a gift but he likes it (perhaps he'll wear it and change out of the robes tomorrow? But the robes are kind of comfortable, and multi-purpose and multi-functional, he hopes to keep them for later).

"There's a right way to use tulle; that dress ain't it."

His snickering starts up when everyone begins bagging on the Empress, words thrown in about how they'd like to see her fall, it would be pretty nice if someone took her down. Maybe the next Heiress will while he's still alive; maybe the next Heiress won't be as horrible and petty and spiteful as their current one, who knows? There's nothing to say whether she will or won't be.

Even if Polypa is right and saying such things would put them more in the Empress' bad books-- like they weren't all already, Karkat and Xia being mutants and everyone else just being Purple, Polypa being Olive; pretty much just being beneath the Tyrian Tyrant on the spectrum was enough to put someone in bad standing. It still makes things lighter to be able to talk freely.

Xia also has a good point, Karkat gleefully adding on, "On that I'd say you are lucky. Being betrothed to a fish sucks, absolutely never doing it again. The shit I had to go through because of that fucker," Karkat jokes knowing full well that he literally can't.

 

*

 

"It's worse than clowns?" Xia jokes, knowing full well that seadwellers -- royalty in general -- can be much worse than a band of raiding clowns.

Gamzee only stirs when everyone begins to get ready to sleep, Polypa putting out the fire while Xia gathers the pail and bowls, putting them aside to be cleaned tomorrow.

He's about to sit up when he remembers the grub on his stomach, and lies back down with a pathetic click .

"Mate of mine," he pulls his legs up, fingers tracing the segments of Chitti's body, "I'm trapped." The little thing blearily wakes, letting out a sneeze which Gamzee quietly thanks it for; he rubs his sullied hand on his pantleg.

It seems to take Chitti at least a minute to realise where it is, and who it's atop, but, rather than hiss, it crawls higher onto Gamzee's chest and hunkers down. The way it looks at him, Gamzee knows he'd have to scruff Chitti to get it off.

Not that he particularly wants to.

"Look at it, all defiant. Ready to see if I'll eat it, maybe. Ain't hungry 'nough for raw grub." Gamzee supposes the area over his heart would be warmest, besides the top of his head -- not that Chitti would be able to know that.
He'd also like to keep the grub away from his horns, for multiple reasons.

Curiously, with Chitti staring at him, Gamzee tries what he'd seen Karkat do in the caverns; he lightly puffs air at the grub. It blinks, makes some sort of noise that doesn't sound aggressive , at the very least, before promptly curling its face into Gamzee's chest.

 

*

 

"Hm?" Karkat turns, seeing Gamzee flop back down and humming a laugh at how he says he's trapped , like Chitti has so much power to keep him down. Sneezing even, his mate being bested by a grub; Karkat's sure if Gamzee really wanted to get up he'd scruff Chitti as simple as that, easily move it without much trouble.

He shuffles toward Gamzee to help out, feeling all melty inside at the sight, Chitti gradually realizing where it is and who it's on. Seeming not to really care for the moment as it seems more set in contesting with Gamzee, gripping on like that and as his mate says, a hint of defiance in the way it looks at the grown Indigo before it.

"Gotta like you a little bit. It's not hissing or biting, yeah?" Karkat says in amusement, trying not to snicker too hard at Chitti's expense, being puffed air at. Sweet little thing is all surprised that it buries it's face into Gamzee-- an improvement from keeling over and being unable to roll itself upright.

"Look at you, getting the hang of it. D'ya want me to take it, or you don't mind being trapped anymore?" Karkat's hands hover, but not yet close enough for Chitti to want to reach and climb onto him.

 

*

 

"I only mind it if you wanna move somewhere else. Wouldn't mind my mate snuggin' up to my side right here." Despite his short nap, he's still tired; Chitti looking about the same, although the grub rubs its little face up and down along the fabric of his tunic.
Belated, Gamzee snickers.

"Lil' fucker's rubbin' its face clean on me. That what I am? Just a towel? Real nice t'know." They should probably take the grub to the river tomorrow.

They don't need to be bathed, but making sure its nasal slits and aural canals are clean, and wiping away any foodstuffs from the corners of its little mouth, would probably be a good idea. A clean grub is a healthy grub -- and Gamzee doesn't know when it's going to spin, but it ought to be as clean as possible to facilitate a smooth pupation.

With more room to move, Gamzee crosses his legs, and twines his hands behind his head.

"I'll stay stuck for a while longer. 'S long as Chitti don't start tryin' to bite my face or nothin', I think we're all good." When Chitti stops cleaning its face against him, it huffs, latching onto Gamzee with its little legs.

"Soon as you get too close, though, bet it's gonna crawl over to you. Can't compete with breeder stink." Gamzee sticks out his tongue, rumbling in his throat.

 

*

 

On the one hand, Chitti at least knows as much as to clean it's own face, or to try to, it's already showing signs of developing good habits; that it decides Gamzee is the perfect place to do that is kind of like melting icing on the melting cake inside of Karkat.

"Better a towel than chew toy, hm?" He's just an ' awwww ' short of acting mushy and gushing, for all that the sight makes Karkat feel just like that. "I'll wipe it down at dusk," back home the other older breeders use shallow basins of warm water, enough so that the grub gets clean but not so that it panics; no one's really had a seadweller grub before, not that he can remember.

Chitti's probably going to be the most pampered cave grub by the time it's ready to pupate, chunky little thing that it is-- Karkat is just barely holding back on grub-talk.

Gamzee gets to shift as he likes though, since Chitti has moved, now finished with cleaning it's face on Gamzee. Deeming him suitable for resuming it's sleep with a huff that sounds more like 'I guess I'll sleep on you for now'.

Karkat sticks his tongue back at Gamzee, "Like you don't like it either." Like Gamzee doesn't try and drape on him whenever he's breathed Karkat's scent in, hah.

Leaning against the pile since everyone seems to be settling in the main tent as daylight creeps more and more, sans Karako, staying in the merchant caravan to watch over Chahut, and the twins, hiding from them, Karkat hoping that they'll stay in one of the caravans at least. For now Chitti seems to be more content than not latched onto Gamzee like it is so Karkat doesn't do anything to bother it or his mate while they're resting-- being awfully cute about it too --, letting his mind wander and doze himself.

Chapter 34: Gelders of Those on High

Notes:

So soon? I know, how unusual.

Because today is special, you see.

Eventually, Gamzee drifts off -- and Chitti, slowly losing its determination to stay latched onto this grown troll, crawls off him, and follows its nasal slits over to Karkat. To the grub, a much more suitable place to sleep. Warmer and softer.

Zhen looks like a grub, herself, curled up tightly in all her robes.

Given the unholy hour at which Xia wakes, dusk hardly having hit, she doesn't blame the Indigoblood when she refuses to wake.

Polypa, on the other hand, is ready to go about five seconds after waking -- though whether she's truly awake is another issue. It's most likely she's on autopilot, expression stoic and somewhat intimidating.

 

Despite that, they have to wait another short while for the Sun to descend to the point that they can creep from the tent. By then, Kurloz has woken, and Gamzee's being pulled out of his stupor; Marvus woke at some point, although neither Polypa nor Xia recall when.

With the Greenbloods leaving to clean themselves and their crockery, Gamzee leans over his mate, gently kissing him.

"Wake up." He barely gets out before giving Karkat another kiss.

"Gotta move if we wanna make it to the city with time to trade." A third kiss, Gamzee rumbling quietly in his throat.

 

*

 

Karkat's eyes open, but it's not to being woken, not this time anyway.

Instead of laying down like he thought he was, Karkat is standing in the middle of the tent, blinking down at his own body in confusion. Wondering why he's not where he should be, looking around the rest of the tent as if to ask if anyone else was seeing what the heck was happening to him right now-- he's standing, but he's also laying there on the pile?? What the fuck???

A look around shows that everyone, if they aren't sleeping then they have their eyes closed and can fake it really good for all that Karkat calls out.

 

Can no one hear him?

 

With his voice and volume?? Impossible .

But so is Karkat being in two places a once.

It's weird for sure, but aside from trying to get anyone to wake up, which obviously isn't working, Karkat can't figure out what to do but look around; staring long enough, he can see the strings on his body, spread and trailed out, his and Gamzee's thickly woven between them-- even on Chitti there's a couple of strings, one goes back to Karkat, another not as big but still there on Gamzee, and one about the same as his own on Xia.

 

The one going to Xia has his interest, even though he gets the feeling he shouldn't, like it might be rude if he looked, but he can't outright help it. He's moving as if he's... drawn , but by what he doesn't know.

Xia has her own set of strings that trail out; there's even one for Polypa, decently thick though it seems to be tied a little loosely. Another goes to Zhen, just about as thick. Like Zhen's, there's another, fairly thicker one, but that string goes out and beyond the tent.

Karkat doesn't know what makes him do it, but without thinking he's crouched by Xia, lifting that string up until it's taut, even from the other end. Taking his other fingers and plucking it once, watching it reverberate. Twice and again he plinks at her string like an instrument only Karkat knows how to play, the motion traveling clear to the other end.

Something makes his attention move, turning to see that pupa looking at him with pouted disappointment. "Well, now that's just cheating."

 

--Karkat wakes up again-- or, no, not again? Isn't this...didn't he just wake up now ?? --to cool lips on his, getting a smile to spread before stretching up to press a kiss back, stretching the rest of his limbs. As Gamzee said, Chitti did ultimately crawl on over to sleep on Karkat, sweet little thing yawning and blearily registering the gradual evening hustle.

"'M awake...," Karkat blinks. Didn't he just dream of something weird? He's sure he did.

Either way he's reminded that they've got to make some good distance if they want to get to the next city for trade-- if they don't outright raid it, he has to remember that is a completely viable thing to happen, especially if trading doesn't go well.

"Let's wash up some, yeah?"

 

*

 

Gamzee hums an agreement, helping the bleary mutant to his feet.

The stream is busy, with Xia washing pots and bowls and utensils; she asks for clothing to be handed down to her so she can scrub it, as well, before slapping the soaked garments down on some rocks.

She’s been travelling in caravans for a long time, it seems.

 

Karako switches with Kurloz, tired-eyed but not exhausted.

“Ah,” Gamzee chirrs for Karkat’s attention, “we should get us a rock of salt. Might be Chitti’d like feeling some of that flicked on its carapace. Might also help Sister Chahut out, if it feels like she’s near some water.” They could keep the rock in a pail of water, letting it gradually dissolve — although salt is by no means cheap.

Karako honks , nodding.

 

Chitti, at the sound of water and the river, shows no fear or apprehension about the shallows. It acts more like a seadweller, crawling down Karkat’s robes in an attempt to get to the water.

Xia’s green-tinted hands stop the grub from tumbling into the stream.

“I guess it likes the water.” She says, ladling a cupped palm of water over the grub’s backside.

It trills, evidently enjoying itself.

Gamzee almost cackles.

“We is supposed to grow up near water. Of course, lil’ motherfucker’s gonna like it. Better have good sense not to get too deep.” He remembers the feeling of the ocean; a connection with it. He’d always wanted to dive into its depths and follow his Lusus, but a combination of trial-and-error and his own conflicting instincts kept him from drowning himself.

“Limebloods,” Xia murmurs, continuing to cup water over Chitti, “apparently like to pupate near other trolls.” Supposedly, to find a Limeblood spun near an often-trod footpath, or a communal space, wasn’t odd.

Gamzee chirrs, soaked to the bone and pleased about it, taking a seat in the stream.

“The next city over’s gonna have some good shit. It’s also finally outta fish fucker territory. I think some... Bluebloods run the place. Cerulean or Navy. Not Teal.”

 

*

 

Karkat only gets what Gamzee means by having a rock of salt-- to facilitate ocean water, he means. Thinking about it, Karkat thinks so too. The rest of the conversation confirms the reasons he guessed at; remembering Gamzee telling Chahut she shouldn't spin by the water, and Chahut even admitting that she had the want.

"If it'd help her while she's in her cocoon that's reason enough, if it'd be good for Chitti too then that's great. Can use salt for a lot of other things too, if we're that lucky." Maybe to preserve and dry meat, it'd last longer than just sun-drying it alone, salt is a good ingredient for some medicines too.

Xia gets him to laugh, remembering Kanaya telling him how he pupated from grub to pupa, "That sounds about right. I actually gave everyone a scare when I pupated, not that I remember much. M-- I was told that I took my carapace over to the well. My dumbass decided that it was a great idea to spin right on the underside of the pail, over the water. No one could really move me and they had to draw water from the streams or the creek. I felt so bad when I understood why I should, and then for how they had to get me when I was breaking out of my 'coon."

Karkat settles in next to Gamzee, still chortling at his own thoughts despite the chill of the water-- it's not too bad, he doesn't mind it as much anymore, even though the warm bath at the cloister was a nice thing for him.

He turns as his mate chirrs, telling Karkat about the city. Hearing that it's run by Bluebloods does mean that there'll be some neat enough stuff. Though it also makes him want to check his map for the place Vriska wanted to send him to sell off the gems from Ampora's crown.

 

*

 

Xia tries and fails to hold back a laugh.

“I think I spun myself in a town or village. I remember trolls. I remember that no one really spoke to me when I made noises at them — so I kept walking, until I found the shoreline, and met Zhen.” The Limeblood focuses on keeping Chitti in the shallows, allowing the grub to dip its face into the water, snort and snuffle, before coming up for breath.

It seems to know it’s not a seadweller, loudly clearing its nasal passages each time.

“It took her a perigee to stop biting at me, even when I foraged and brought her food. In my head, I figured that was the entire world.” She hums, gingerly cleaning out Chitti’s aural canals; opening its little maw for a quick inspection.

“I wouldn’t mind going back there. Over the ocean, I mean. The Grand Highblood refuses, and I can guess why.” Wiping the sleep from Chitti’s eyes, the grub is all clean, free to trundle through the water at its own pace.

 

Gamzee leans against his mate, hair slicked back, dripping.

“We’re gonna get a lotta good shit. Food, sugar, salt — maybe some beast pelts, if they got any good ones. Your poor strutpods gonna need some better shoes and all that.” Hopefully, they can sell the remnants of Karkat’s dress, and Gamzee could try to cash in those Navyblood deeds and such.

There’s no guarantee it’ll work, but he’ll try.

 

*

 

Xia doesn't need to clean Chitti, but that she does anyway Karkat is grateful for; as he thought, it's going to wind up being the most pampered cave grub being taken care of the way it's getting. Got two breeders caring for it, even though it's a temporary thing.

"Gosh, just think if you'd have hatched near my village. I'm pretty sure if they took in a mutant they'd take in a Limeblood. I've heard rumors that our sister village took in a couple of Violets, though no one really ever proved that right or wrong, but I don't see why not Indigo too." Karkat's heard the Elder of the sister village was a Burgundy and a strong psychic too, hence why their trolls with psionics wound up traveling there. Though no one really solidified whether or not they did take in Violets or not.

It stood to good reason why Zhen was so attached to Xia besides her being The Grand Highblood's mate, they've been together, pretty much since the beginning. Karkat can see it even, a smaller Purple pupa wary of some other Lime pupa that kept coming around. They've obviously stuck together since then, it's really sweet in a way.

 

A clean grub happily splashes through the shallower parts of the water, blowing bubbles and trying to stick it's head under, and Karkat could melt at the sight. Apparently, he used to blow bubbles too, though he's sure that's a habit learned from his Lusus, who still makes bubbles from it's mandible.

Karkat relaxes some, the water not cold at all once he's used to it, humming in thought, "We've still got some caegers from the city by the cloister, it'll be nice if we can add to that and get the majority of what we need. I can sell off the fabric from that dress, I know my textiles pretty good too."

 

*

 

“That’s a nice thought, but it’s also a lie.” Xia shrugs.

“Why aren’t village leaders trekking to the coasts to take in Indigobloods? Idleness is as much a sin as neglectfulness.” She’s seen enough, the difference between even the most tame of interactions between her and Zhen, that she knows it isn’t merely a lack of ‘good trolls’.

 

The ‘good trolls’ are the idle trolls, who just turn uncomfortably away from an Indigoblood pupa.

 

“Anyway,” she gets up, stepping out of the water, “they’re trying to solve the problem on their own. They don’t need help. Zhen would probably be hissing, calling it ‘charity’. Be glad she didn’t hear you say that.” She shimmies into a pair of clean panties, slipping into her dress.

“I’ll be foraging if you need me!” She hops off, disappearing into the tree line.

Karako finishes up quickly, honk ing after Xia, his belt of knives clanging.

That just leaves Karkat, Gamzee, Chitti, and Marvus.

Despite his large presence, Marvus isn’t a particularly huge Indigoblood. Not like Chahut. He has a good figure — defined musculature, long limbs, a romantic face — but Gamzee’s sure to pass him in height sooner rather than later, and become a taller adult.

That hardly matters to him, though.

 

“Sheeeet, Limeblood says it raw , Phat Kat.” Hair slicked back, he almost looks like a seadweller.

“‘Sides Fuschiabloods, ain’t we the only caste what keeps to itself, now?” Gamzee asks, keeping an eye on Chitti — who has found some slippery rocks, and is greedily munching on the fuzzy growths there.

“Fuck yeah, Bro-o-Mine. Gotta watch your backs when The Empress wants your corpse on a platter.” Marvus’ speech is probably the most affected, although he seems to occasionally censor himself when saying ‘fuck’.

Gamzee clicks his tongue.

“Wonder if The Empress’ll one night put bounties on Indigoblood heads?” He briefly looks to Karkat, then back to Chitti.

Marvus laughs, wringing out his hair.

“We mad fucked, then, Brother.”

 

*

 

He'd like to argue differently, but Xia makes a point; their village kind of keeps to themselves, no one really ventures out except for a few that have the want, and no one goes looking for wrigglers or pupae or grubs, they take them in when they find their way there.

As far back as he can think, no one really purposefully, actively , has gone looking for others to bring back. Was it some kind of negligence or idleness that they didn't?

 

Marvus comments and Karkat could pout if he didn't feel kind of bad-- he's always putting his village up but there are all these other things to knock it down, it makes him think whether or not they're just as bad as other trolls, even though he'd beg to differ.

He's sure there aren't many villages that would take in an off-spectrum mutant instead of culling them, that's got to say something, doesn't it?

Gamzee mentioning the Empress throwing out bounties on Indigo heads has his brow creasing; that definitely won't be good, and they might as well count themselves lucky enough that she hasn't.

"Mad fucked for sure," he agrees.

Karkat's not sure what would be in store for him being caught by the Empress, whether he'd be outright culled or put to.... use , to imagine an ending.

He doubts it'd be at all pleasant regardless.

 

Chitti skitters downward from the rocks it's picking at, Karkat's hands are under it before it can even splash into the deeper dip, going from tense to relaxed relief while the little thing chitters like it hadn't just slipped. Bringing the grub close to him and swiping his finger on the stream growth it'd been interested in, Karkat is curious about something. Holding his finger for Chitti to have at, he takes the chance to feel the inside of it's mouth while it nibbles away, not totally worried about his finger being gnawed at.

Humming in slight surprise and amusement, at finding that Chitti does have suckling mandibles, right inside those chubby cheeks, feeling a little like an egg-fang but not really, more meant to help it latch.

"Well aren't you just havin' all the surprises, huh?" Karkat coos and strokes at it's cheeks, his finger eventually being let go with just some faint bite dents and a happy squee and chirr for something that doesn't know what he's talking about.

 

*

 

Gamzee is wholly confused by what his mate is doing, stroking the inside of Chitti’s cheeks.

When he has the chance, he offers out his finger.

“Why’d you do that?” The grub latches onto him more fiercely than it had Karkat, and he carefully touches the smooth innards of those plump cheeks.

Finding the mandibles, he flushes, chirring.

“You’re flat.” He says, thankful Marvus left them.

“I ain’t seen your buds get bigger, and I like to think I’d be a good judge of that — you thinking of asking Xia?” His own finger comes out covered in saliva, and Chitti chirps, seeming to think this is some type of game or affection.

Gamzee’s just flustered, cleaning his hand in the stream.

“That’s what the sling’s for... You think you should start wearing it? Might be better than letting Chitti decide where it wants to cling. A troll bumps into you, or we gotta run, and it might fall off. Indigo or not, it’s still a squishy lil’ motherfucker.”

 

Although, that might just signal ‘breeder’ to every troll around, considering it’s not commonplace to see trolls carting grubs around in the city.

He’d rather not increase the likelihood of his mate getting hit on by some horny asshole, if he could.

“... We gotta get Chitti clothed. I mean, we gotta get fabrics for that. Even if it comes out as big as ‘em, the twins need their clothes.” A dress would be good, although Chahut has never been shy about breeching pupae early. Barzum and Baizli walk around in their garments just fine.

“They’ll share. Just that we don’t need to see more naked pupae than we already do.”

 

*

 

Karkat flushes at that, his being flat-- okay, yeah, Gamzee's not wrong , but he didn't have to put it so bluntly.

" I know that, I just wanted to see if it had 'em or not," he clicks, flustered himself with his red spreading over his face.

He knows he's still flat, he still hasn't got the ache of growth or weight happening to his chest like he's heard, and the fact alone that he's not leaking the extra sap he doesn't have means he shouldn't even have the thought of trying to feed Chitti like that.

 

Talk about grub-crazy.

 

"Well, she already talked to me about it, though neither of us is quite capable of nursing just yet. I wouldn't ask her to anyway, she's already doing a lot-- has done a lot." Xia does so many things around the camp when she doesn't need to, takes care of Chitti when it's not her responsibility. He's not going to ask her to nurse the grub, she should be relaxing as much as possible and resting for her own. Karkat asked for Chitti, so it's Karkat's responsibility.

He's a little glad for the slight topic change, "If we even take the grub to the city, but you're right on using the sling. Chitti won't be able to crawl around as it likes, but it won't fall off of me either," Karkat muses seriously, not at all thinking that walking around a crowded place like that with a grub attached to him would put it right out that he's a breeder.

"Mmh, we can pick up a bolt of fabric or a cut of it at least, though a bolt will be good to make more things for when the pupae grow out of their things." Karkat can.... he can make clothes, he's kind of learned from Kanaya, he's just really, really slow at it.

 

*

 

"You ain't flat -flat." Gamzee clarifies, chittering at Karkat's bashfulness.

"I'm all twitter-pated with you, now." He chides, plucking Chitti from Karkat's hands.

"It's all your fault, motherfucker." He gets to his feet, placing Chitti on the ground while he dresses quickly; the grub sniffs the dirt and grass, keening when Gamzee moves too far.

Without Karkat or Xia, he's the next best thing that, so far, hasn't shown any inclination to eat the grub.

"Too bad we chucked all our privacy out the motherfucking window." Dressed, Gamzee picks Chitti back up, and lets the grub settle on his shoulder.

"I'd die if anyone caught us. Y'know, anyone what matters. Chahut might be in her 'coon, but that don't mean all too much." The grub tugs at his wet hair, trying to drink the excess water.

Gamzee wishes he minded more than he does.

He helps his mate from the stream, lavender dusting his naked face.

"We'll trade, first. See if I can pass as a Navy good 'nough for those financial hives. Then, we get food. Pair of shoes for your strutpods... If we gotta cull a few shopkeepers, then we gotta cull 'em. Just try to look away, aight?"

 

*

 

Well now that just has his whole face blooming red.

It wouldn't matter how many times their bits have a go at each other, that Gamzee can still make him flush like this should say a lot. Especially at the implication that if it weren't for certain pairs of eyes they'd be having a go at it right now.

"Don't blame me when you're gettin' all twitter-pated by yourself. I could be sitting still fully clothed and you'd still get like that and we both know it," Karkat mumbles out despite being fully fit to steaming red he might actually warm the stream if it was possible.

Gamzee gives him a hand up, Karkat wiping off as much water as he can to put on clean clothes; he'd decided on wearing the modified dress Zhen gifted him, even though the stripes of Jade would draw in some eyes. He's sure if he's clever, darkening some of the Olive makeup wouldn't make anyone look too hard at him. Plus his Olive tunic is still drying.

Pulling up his panties and carding through his hair to wring out whatever water managed to stay, Karkat is more or less ready for the market; belatedly, perhaps he shouldn't go. It sure seemed like there was always some kind of trouble to be had for the two times Karkat went. But, still, he doesn't want to be left behind to wait.

Bag located and slung around him, Karkat goes rummaging around until he finds his map. Both the sister village and the city Vriska wanted him to visit are marked on there, but the city is the more important one.

"Gamzee," Karkat nearly skips toward him to show the map, "If we came through here, and the cloister is there , and we left through this , would you say this is where we're headin'?" Karkat draws over with his finger, landing on the marked city.

"This is where Vriska said someone would buy those crown gems we have. You think we can check it out if there's time?"

 

*

 

"That's the nearest city." Gamzee says, eyeing Karkat's map.

"Given your track record, and how lil' I trust Bluebloods, you'll get to see this troll only if we got time and if we're all allowed to up and bring our weapons. Any funny shit goes on, I take their head." He isn't asking Karkat, his tone implying this isn't something he'll budge on.

Trading is already stressful enough.

With a pat to the backside, Gamzee walks with Karkat back to the tents -- which have only been partially dismantled.

Without Chahut, and with another troll needing to guard her, setting up for day and breaking down for night takes more time.

 

Zhen's also gotten up and dug a fire pit a safe distance off, having already pulled up a small collection of roots.

"Do you always take so long to bathe?" She asks, not quite so sharp as usual, but not rot-soft, either.

"Come help me start a fire. It's hard with one hand." She wants to fry up some tubers, but they don't exactly have any fat. If Polypa could catch something, then they might be able to be more diverse in their diet.

Gamzee leaves a kiss to his mate's cheek.

"I gotta help everyone pack up. You help Sister Zhen, aight?" His voice lowers into a soft whisper.

"Looking like the past few nights been catching up to her." Another kiss, and he's on his way, helping Marvus in packing up their things.

 

It's true that Zhen looks exhausted -- nearly a perigee of fretting over Xia, contending with malicious adults, and sustaining injuries leaving her spent. The fact that she can't even start a fire on her own would piss her off if she had the energy to get so worked up.

"Can I stay behind?" She asks after a moment.

"I'm not really a city-troll. Would rather stitch you your clothes."

 

*

 

Karkat nods, albeit a little apprehensive; he'd have to hope Vriska wasn't trying to pull anything by wanting him to go here.

But if something did go wrong, he wouldn't stop Gamzee without good reason.

 

The tents have already begun being dismantled, Zhen meanwhile commenting on their bathing time and asking for help. Gamzee goes to help finish taking down the tents and Karkat doesn't need any further prompting to help Zhen.

"I've got it," Karkat says, coming down by her and starting the pit up. The wood isn't the right kind to spark but there's enough rock on the ground for Karkat to start something, soon blowing into the pit as it makes smoke, embers catching more and more.

Zhen looks drained and worn out, and she's not as sharp with her words at him-- as far as being upset goes, but that might just be because she's too tired for that. Even in asking that she stay behind, her voice sounds softer than usual, almost pupalike.

"Of course you can. You had a rough time because of me last city trip," he'd hug Zhen if he knew she wouldn't likely snap at him for it, make him feel bad for feeling bad and some possible other things.

"You'll be careful, yeah? Won't let no one come mess with you?"

He wonders if he sounds too pitying, like he thinks Zhen can't take care of herself-- Karkat knows she's more than capable, even one-handed and dealing with rot, he just can't help worrying over her (hard not to want to do things for someone who lost a horn for you, regardless of how they feel on the matter).

"Tell me if you want anything, I'll find it for you."

 

*

 

Zhen's conscious enough to track the pity in Karkat's voice, the offer to get her whatever she wants, but she's too tired to even glare at him.

She feels a bone-deep fatigue, mind foggy.

"I'll put my pick in anyone that gets too close -- besides, the mime's staying back, too." She makes use of one hand, trying to break the roots into bite-sized pieces.

They could probably buy breakfast in the city, but it'd be nice for those staying behind to have something, as well.

"I need sugar... fruit, but only the kinds with high water content... a jar of plain honey, if that's available. Honeycomb works, too. Uh... that's probably enough." It's clear that she struggles a bit to think, dropping the roots into a pot of water, placing it above the fire.

"This won't really come out well, but there's not much to eat around here. Crappy spot to stop, but it can't be helped."

 

Sounds seem to startle her a bit more than usual, Polypa and Xia's reemergence causing her to bristle for a second.

"Ah -- " she looks at Karkat, then to the two Greenbloods, "... find anything good?"

More berries, and Polypa shakes her head.

"We're too close to the city. Any beasts around are small and flighty. Hunting's pretty much a waste of time." She speaks more to Karkat than she does Zhen.

"Are we heading off, soon? We'll eat in the city."

 

*

 

"Alright. I'll get those," Karkat can do that at the very least. Water-heavy fruits, which means melons mostly, or pit-fruits, even citruses, fruits that make a lot of juice, he's sure. And honey for sure, not just for eating but for medicine and preserving, if they can get enough.

Xia and Polypa emerge from the treeline, Karkat catching how Zhen tenses but not saying anything. Their scavenging evidently didn't go well, and like Polypa says, this close to the city won't have them anything sizable or easy to catch in the first place. At the very least there's more berries, though Karkat decides he won't have any, being that he's going into the city.

It means more for Xia and Chitti, the twins and everyone else, so he's fine with that.

"We'll pack up first and head out, and then move the caravans somewhere safe, I think." The first time that's what they did, and the other time with Marvus they only had a cart and no one seemed to want to go and bother it.

Another question to ponder is whether or not he is taking Chitti with them. If everyone is going, aside from Zhen and Kurloz, then he might have to. Which is fine, he can use the sling Xia gifted him.

Speaking of gifts, since they're on their way to meet The Grand Highblood, Karkat figures he should find a gift for Xia; he supposes when they meet up, Xia's mate is going to want to celebrate her carrying.

 

*

 

Zhen clicks to herself, grabbing her pail of water.

"I'll go dump this, then." Xia accompanies her, even if she complains that she'd still eat the boiled roots.

 

With everything put away, Gamzee's changed back into his clean Navy garb; pulling his hair up and back for a fluffy ponytail. Karako shifts into his Jade robes.

The smaller Indigobloods walks around the third caravan with a pair of matching Cerulean outfits. He eventually finds Baizli and sniffs out Barzum, scruffing them lightly while dressing them up.

They fuss and flail, but they're both too young and pathetic to put up any real fight.

Gamzee meets with them, coaxing Barzum close. Like Bronya, he holds open her eyelid, inspecting the sclera and pupils.

He's no doctorturer, but they look like they're healing on their own, bit by bit.

 

Polypa and Xia are coming along, while Zhen, Marvus, and Kurloz are staying back at the caravans. One to rest, two to watch over their things.

Gamzee chirrs, going over to Karkat.

"We taking Chitti, or leaving Chitti. Lil' motherfucker's awful young for the city, y'know?"

 

*

 

Karkat also comes after her with Xia; even if it's just boiled roots it's still food that can be picked at until the trading party returns with something better.

With two breeders Zhen will have to relent, even if it's just because she's tired.

 

Their camp is packed and put away, everyone who's going is dressed, either disguised or not needing to-- out of all of them, Polypa is probably the only troll who can walk around as she is without having to be questioned, about her blood anyway.

Karkat carefully smooths makeup on his face, lightly spotting Olive on his cheeks, enough that at a glance he's passing for Green but no one should be getting close enough to know what kind. Maybe he should also find a Jade makeup set? He is wearing Jade on his dress after all-- on that note, Karkat combs down his hair, over his eyes and down the back and sides too; someone should at least mistake him for as high as that, so he should look as neat as one.

He puts his own stuff away after using a simple gloss on his lips, chittering as Gamzee walks toward him, still looking pretty spiffy as a Navyblood.

"Mmh, ....I'm not really keen on taking it somewhere dangerous like that. I'd rather not see it get squished," the issue there is who would watch Chitti if it stays with the caravans. Zhen needs to rest and no doubt a grub would keep her from doing that. With how Chitti reacted to Kurloz, that's likely also not an option, nor would Karkat ask him from how he handled Baizli.

"....Do you think Marvus would watch Chitti?"

 

*

 

"Yeah, motherfucker's aight with younglings. I mean, he older than me, and took care of Karako and the twins, too." Chitti doesn't seem too happy about the decision until it's placed atop Marvus' head, where it chirrs in delight.

 

With everyone ready, they head toward the city.

Karako staggers in the back with the twins, while Gamzee walks alongside Karkat and Polypa. Xia's middling.

"You supposed to be Olive or Jade?" Gamzee asks, glancing from the Jade fabric to Karkat's cheeks -- his hair, too.

"Whatever, I ain't supposing this'll go too peacefully." He should've paid more attention, with how nosy and high-handed Bluebloods are; they even treat Tealbloods like the lowest scum despite their relatively high status.

 

The city is bustling, its paved streets hosting vendors and open-air eateries.

"Polypa, go with the breeders to eat. I'll try to get some coin from the financial hives." Karako and the twins already know their place; to pick pockets and steal from preoccupied vendors.

Gamzee doesn't kiss his mate good-bye -- he's a Navyblood, too good for that nonsense even if he chose to share a quadrant with a Greenblood. Polypa looks blankly at the food stalls.

"I'm assuming I'm mostly here to guard you two. Eat wherever. I'm not that hungry." She pockets her hands, keeping an eye on the trolls walking past.

Xia looks uneasy, catching Karako and the twins meandering off into a packed area; a place where things are much more difficult to keep count of.

"I'll eat anything." She says, turning back to Polypa and Karkat.

 

*

 

That is an immense relief, and as much as Chitti seemed against it, the grub more or less lights up being put so high up on top of Marvus-- whether that chirr was particularly happy or sounded a little like mischief will be determined later...that or Karkat's just imagining things.

 

On their way, Karkat can't help himself from glancing at the back of their group, seeing both of the twins; Barzum seems alright, but he's got the urge to go and check for himself, repressing it with each step. Wonders if she'll let him put medicine over her eyes-- if not him, then Gamzee, or even Karako.

 

It's a pretty highbrow city, seeming on par with Eridan's, maybe even more-- now wouldn't that be a blow to a seadweller's ego, some landdweller city managing to be even fancier than theirs.

Like the village bumpkin he is Karkat is all starry-awed at the sights, looking every which way.

Even while like that, Karkat gives Gamzee the identification and the signature to study at, as well as some pointers for the financial hive-- he may never have been in one, but he reads a lot and most writers seem to have a similar idea of the ideal bank terrorteller, which is Teal or below.

Gamzee leaves, and so do Karako and the twins, Karkat watching with just as much concern as Xia when the two blend into the crowd, much smaller than Karako; how can he help it, when those are his pupae, as upset as they are with him right now.

Neither Xia nor Polypa have anything in mind to eat, and Karkat spies several stalls that have the things they need, but the majority they need to wait until they have more funding. The things Zhen asked for too-- and he's got to figure out what to get for Xia.

"Well, pastries or fruits? Both have sugar, both will do all of us some good."

 

*

 

"Pastries." Polypa answers before Xia's even got her mouth open.

"She'll say she doesn't like sweets, but pastries are her favourite." The Oliveblood allows something of a smile to cross her features, while Xia crosses her arms.

"I'm fine with fruit, too. Pastries are more expensive." She argues back in hushed tones.

"That's why you like them. You've always had surprisingly expensive taste, given your caste." Strong, muscled arms cross behind her head, fingers knotting over her neck.

Xia pouts, ears flicking.

"I do not have expensive taste. I'm just not picky." Polypa starts off at a rolling stroll, Xia following behind her.

"Uh-huh. Hey, Karkat, did you know Xia can pass for most blood colours? She used to be bait; with speedy strutpods, I never had to worry about het getting culled. We've dressed her up as high as Navy. I bet we could've gone higher." Xia flushes, huffing.

"That was when my hair was longer. I wouldn't pass, now." She retorts, staying by Karkat's side.

"Maybe the next city over, we find out." Polypa chuckles, turning abruptly to a vendor.

 

The Tealblood regards Polypa with ambivalence.

"Three fried, filled spheres, and a bag of candied nuts." She props herself up on the stall shelf, staring down the Tealblood as he prepares her order.

Xia nudges Karkat.

"Do we have the money for this? We could get away with stealing if you're fine running a few blocks." Not that Xia sounds excited at the prospect -- not at all, she tells herself the idea of running off with stolen goods is for Indigobloods and her past self.
Not the current troll, who carries a grubling inside her, and has a mate looking for her.

 

*

 

" O ho? You like the fancy stuff huh, Xia?" Karkat naturally joins in on the teasing; he shouldn't even be saying anything. Fruits might be his favorite, but he'd like to try a lot of things if he has the chance.

Giggling some more as Polypa divulges some of their pastimes, Karkat chirring with intrigue, "As high as Navy??" he's awed but hushed down, no one needs to be eavesdropping on their business.

"Heh, I bet you acted the attitude to match, huh?" Karkat would like to see how high he might pass if they tried. If he straightens his hair out, be bets he could probably pass for Cerulean, even a Navy wriggler despite being soft and warm. Vriska made fun of him the one time Kanaya did it, calling him 'young lord'.

 

While Polypa looks unfazed by the vendor, dumbass eyeing them like he's figuring if he should sell to them or not, Xia asks if they've got enough to pay for it.

"I've got some caegers. Zhen helped me sell off some gems from my wedding dress," as well as looted a tied up purse from Zebruh's hive but he doesn't bring that up, but point and case is they've got some decent coin, just not enough for all the supplies they need.

"Maybe...we won't run unless he's adamantly unreasonable? I'm pretty good at haggling if it comes down to that. I'd like to think I'm smarter than the average village bumpkin and tougher than a city troll." Karkat beams at her. Running should be a last resort if they're not all keen on it-- especially since he and Xia are carrying.

 

*

 

"Tealbloods are nothing but unreasonable." Xia retorts, relaxing when the troll gives them their order.

Even if Polypa's short, she can hold her own against most trolls, and it shows.

"Pay the troll, Karkat." She hands Xia a fried sphere filled with jelly.

"Or don't. What's he going to do? Call the drones ? A Tealblood should be able to handle some Greenbloods like us no problem." She bites into her own, holding onto Karkat's portion and the nuts.

Xia laughs, almost perfectly mimicking the condescension of a Cerulean with the mindless glee of a Bronze.

" Right ? It'd be so utterly pitiable if the drones were called for some lowbloods stealing a few treats." The Tealblood flushes angrily, and Xia, thumbing a bit of jam off her lower lip, offers him a smile.

"I know a very good legislacerator that will have your waste chute in court if you attack any of us. We're just making fun. If you can't handle that, then you should go live out in the countryside, where some clowns can kidnap you and bleed you dry."

She takes another bite of her treat, swaying her hips as she walks off.

The Tealblood glares at Polypa and Karkat, holding out a hand for payment.

"We'll give you half ." Polypa starts, countering the price demanded of them -- and that just stokes the Tealblood's ire further.

"They're not even that good. How old is this jam? My palemate makes better jam than this, and we grew up in a cave." She takes another bite, ready to kick the Tealblood's fangs out if he doesn't accept the deal.

With a hiss, he does, although Polypa's more cautious when working off of Karkat than with Xia.

"Pay the troll his fare. We've got better places to be."

 

*

 

Polypa and Xia are ruthless-- they must have been quite the team before Xia became mated (either to her first caravan or to The Grand Highblood Karkat would have to ask). Simultaneously they tear the Tealblood down and get their price lowered.

Karkat is much too gleeful to be a part of it, trying not to be too obvious about snickering behind a hand and going in with a soft, almost airheaded gimmick. It probably helps that his lashes are thick and long, enhanced by makeup and how his hair obscures his eyes, making him look almost meek.

"Really? Let me taste," Karkat asks, his voice just soft and ditzy enough to seem like he might be more reasonable. The pastry and jam itself is actually pretty decent-- not the greatest , but not too bad either, it could be less dry though and use more glaze --but they've got a price to swindle.

Karkat holds his hand to his mouth like he wants to spit out the mouthful, almost whining when he speaks, "Mister, your recipe is just terrible , I can't imagine anyone paying for this."

Acting all troubled and conflicted like he's thinking really hard, "But, it's not like we can give these back, so I'll still pay you," Karkat paying is Karkat flicking three caegers-- much, much less than the halved price --up onto the stand in a way that they bounce off and flip right into the Teal's face (a coin trick he learned from Vriska) (half the things he learned from Vriska Kanaya would highly disapprove of), getting Polypa and Xia to hurry and go while the vendor is too preoccupied with catching coins and feebly yelling for them to stop.

 

*

 

"You shouldn't even give them the satisfaction of being called Mister ." Xia trots along, fingers ripping into her pastry.

"Some trolls can pull off the 'pan-deficient' angle." Polypa replies, watching Xia all but scarf down her sugary treat.

"Well, I'll kick him in the globes if he comes after us." Xia throws a look over her shoulder, sucking her fingers clean.

Polypa chitters.

"Stars have mercy," she leans to Karkat, "I've seen her fell Tealbloods with a good kick."

"That was an accident! Tegiri scared me!" Xia chirps, half-scolding Polypa.

"Doesn't change that he walked funny for two nights."

The Oliveblood rips her pastry in two, pawning each off onto the breeders. She insists, and it doesn't take much more for Xia to put away the treat, the rush of sugar bolstering her mood.

 

A few streets away, vendors peddle their fabrics and finery; everything from fine-spun muslin to cotton, gold jewelry to wooden bangles and woven bracelets.

Xia indicates a particularly rich stall, manned by a seadweller dripping in her own gold.

"She has a lot of nice things, doesn't she? Hold Karkat back for me." Xia smiles, and though Polypa looks wary, she takes hold of Karkat's upper arm.

"When shit hits the proverbial fan, run in with me and grab whatever you need." She mutters, watching Xia look over wares with innocent, wide eyes -- and, in an instant, she's snatched a glittering arm band, and bolted .

The seadweller shouts, giving the Limeblood a head start; failing to grab her, and then needing to step from behind her stall, shouting for the drones -- or a nearby highblood.

Given that Xia's already slipped out of sight, they'll have to wait for the drones.

With how quickly Polypa ushers Karkat over to the stall, one would think the drones to be immediately descending.

"She'll be fine." She stuffs some basic fabrics into her bag, especially black -- and grabs a few trinkets and baubles for trade -- leaving Karkat to handle the finer specifics.

"We used to be partners. You know... I'd say 'mercenary', but that implies we did it for anything more than survival. Besides, that bulge-sucker Okimaw acts more like a mercenary-for-hire."

 

*

 

"Gosh, was I that bad?" Karkat laughs through a mouthful of pastry. He can't have been that bad, he means, they got away, didn't they?

Laughing with a supply of sugar always ensures a great time, Karkat getting to hear more on Xia and Polypa's past. "Wow, you're famous for kicking, huh? For me it's a good decking."

That Tegiri is mentioned again, and Karkat pieces together they must have been quite the group.

Polypa gives away her jam-filled pastry, tearing it in half for the both of them. Xia tries to refuse, and so does Karkat but the Olive doesn't budge until they both take it. Even if reluctantly, both him and Xia are thankful for the extra sugar.

They come up through another street lined with stalls and vendors, various goods being called out for and a lot of new sights to take in, for Karkat anyway, walking along with his mouth trying to drop open, having to be tugged on occasion in the right direction.

Xia gestures his attention to a seadweller's stall-- Karkat surprised that someone Violet would be out here this far peddling wares.

They barely have a plan, Xia goes up first without any indication of ruining the Violet's day, before bolting with a snatched armband. And Xia is fast , booking it off and away, the seadweller actually leaving her stall to stand in the street and cry for someone to call the drones or whatever authorities hold power in the city.

Polypa wastes no time and neither does Karkat, following after her into the stall and cleaning out the stall of the seadweller's caegers and pilfering the stand of things to trade or buy off what they want; a lot of things are stuffed into their respective bags before they're making off with most of the seadweller's belongings before she's any wiser to Xia being a distraction.

She doesn't have any papers or identification or anything, rather if she does then it's somewhere on her person, which is makes Karkat click in annoyance.

"I bet you could be a pretty great mercenary. Surviving's as good a reason to do most things, y'know?" Well, for some things anyway.

 

*

 

"I prefer the term 'assassin'." Polypa shifts her load onto her back.

"After all, I don't fight for trolls. I don't rally myself behind some political cause. A troll needs coin to live, and that's how I make my coin." If anyone noticed them looting, they don't care enough to follow.

 

Nearly half an hour later, Xia trots over to them, panting hard.

Before Polypa can even ask if she's alright, the Limeblood is waving off her concerns.

"I'm fine... I'm fine... Seadwellers are fast." She gulps air, cheeks tinged green -- but, if she's here, then she's lost the seadweller.

When Xia's regained some breath, she saunters over to Polypa and Karkat.

"So, what'd you get?" She asks, gladly taking a few offered nuts.

"Pretty much everything." Polypa supplies, "Karkat was even looking for deeds."

Xia chitters quietly.

" That would've been something."

 

*

 

Inferring from that, Polypa seems like a real survivalist troll; she does what she has to in order to continue living. Doesn't do it for anyone or any other reason than that. Karkat wonders if that's why she's uncomfortable around bad-mouthing the Empress, it goes against surviving-- an Imperialist would have some trouble to make with them, with the things their group thinks of Her.

 

Karkat's a little antsy when they don't see Xia for a while but he perks up immediately as she jogs their way, cheeks green and panting. She doesn't let either of them get the chance to ask if she's alright, waving off concerns and taking candied nuts.

"She barely had anything good," Karkat says flatly, disappointed with that in particular, "I mean, you'd think she would have had some kind of papers, being a highblood. Dripping in gold only gets you so far."

He clicks again, though he's pretty sure that Violet is a bit out of place.

"Aren't we....isn't this a bit far inland to see Violets? Or am I more of a bumpkin than I thought?"

 

*

 

Xia puts her hands on her hips, stretching out her back.

"You're telling me all of her jewellery and fine fabrics were left in the dust because she didn't have some shitty papers we'd probably never be able to cash? Jeez , you're in for a lecture about property and communal living from your mate." It doesn't make her feel good to hear that, but it is what it is.

She takes another handful of nuts to compensate.

"Guess we wait for the others, now." She sighs, and leans up against a brick building.

"Violetbloods exist everywhere." Polypa shrugs.

"Some prefer to live in the ocean, some prefer to stay by the ocean, and others go wherever they please. They don't have some biological imperative to keep their heads underwater constantly."

" She just does that because... I don't know, maybe it makes Her feel superior. I don't care." Xia adds on, referring to The Empress.

They need to be a bit more discreet in the city.

"Should we go hang around the financial hive, now?" She continues, wiping her brow.

"Polypa could help if things go to shit."

 

*

 

" No , I took whatever I could," Karkat swings his bag in front of him with a huff, pulling up balled up fabrics and everything else he'd swiped from the stall; precious metal chains, jewelry, gemstone brooches, whatever caegers the Violet had. Like with Zebruh's hive, he took everything that looked useful or sellable.

"I look for paper stuff because that sells for a helluva lot. Lotta trolls wanna own property because it's a big deal to own something big like that."

Karkat puffs his cheeks at Xia, mumbling, "I already got that lecture, kinda...," He's sure either their first or second night of Karkat being new to the troupe that had Gamzee told him about that.

Putting all the items he nicked back into his bag, Karkat looks between Xia and Polypa as they explain seadwellers being this far in; he hadn't considered that, really. Sure, Karkat would've thought that most seadwellers prefer to stay near water, but he guesses that having the ability to breathe underwater doesn't bar one from moving further from water.

"Maybe," Karkat gets up with a fancy handkerchief with a soft coolness to it-- picked up from the stall --to dab at Xia's brow (wishes he had a waterskin handy, Xia looking like she needs a drink), "Let's head that way, at least. For the most part we won't be totally separated if something happens. Let's also see if we can find somewhere with a drink."

As they head toward the finance hive, Karkat nudges at the Oliveblood, walking just a little behind Xia, "Polypa, what kind of gift would you say Xia likes?" Aside from Zhen, since Karkat hadn't thought to ask her, Polypa might be his next source of insight.

 

*

 

"Don't make faces at me." Xia swats Karkat's hand away, speedily walking ahead of the other two trolls, huffing.

Polypa has to stop herself from laughing.

"I'll try to feed her more sugar until she calms down." Polypa follows Xia, taking Karkat along, toward the financial hive.

When asked about gifts, Polypa shrugs. She takes a moment to think about it, but no more than that.

"I've never seen her really get attached to any items. She'll probably take anything and be grateful for it." The Oliveblood doesn't say anything about the days where Xia wouldn't sleep, where she looked lonely and despondent; that she used to say she feels like she can't understand most trolls, or get close to them.

Karkat can't gift her friendship, and Polypa bets it'd be difficult to keep up any regular rapport once they separate.

"No jewellery. Indigobloods don't wear traditional jewellery. A book of daytime stories for pupae and wrigglers might be nice, if The Empress isn't featured." Polypa wonders the chances of coming across anything where The Empress isn't featured.

"It must make me sound like a shitty palemate, but she's not an easy troll to treat. Everything's going to get a smile out of her, whether she likes it or not." She hums a moment, stuffing her hands into her pockets.

"Your best bet is probably something practical, or something for the grub. At the very least, she'll need to use it." She shrugs.

"Why? It's not her Wriggling Day, yet."

 

*

 

No jewelry is something he guessed at; the necklace of fangs made by Chahut and the rings from Marvus don't count as jewelry -jewelry, right? Couldn't Karkat do something like that?

He could, and he thinks he knows what to make, too.

There should be enough time, hopefully, before they meetup with The Grand Highblood.

Karkat smiles, "I got a feeling that when we drop her off with The Grand Highblood he'll wanna have a celebration too, for her carrying. I don't want to be empty-handed when she's supposed to receive gifts, y'know?"

He'll have to get a few things, it would add on to their expenses but not by much if Karkat does his maths right and is careful about what he wants.

"So I'm preparing ahead. And, if there isn't a celebration, I'll still have something at least for when we have to part," like he does with most trolls, Karkat has gotten unnecessarily attached to Xia, and Zhen, and he'll probably be a little sad to part ways after traveling together for the while they've known each other wonders if there's a string between them, how big it is and if it'll stay; probably if he squints.

The finance hive isn't busy so much as there's trolls coming in and out at a trickle. Karkat doesn't see Gamzee yet, so he takes it that his mate is still inside, hopefully not having too much trouble.

Notes:

It's the day, you know?
The last message I received from you was today.

1096 days.

I'm sorry, keeping track of the days kind of vibes with obsessive stalker, but I can't deny that this is kind of obsessive, if not very much exactly.

Of course I also found music to that vibe, very fitting with my feeling over this to be honest.

 

'I been going through something

1096 days, I been going through something

be afraid'

 

although, I don't know what there is to be afraid of, I can't actually do anything more than this

this and say again, over and over again, it'd be really nice to hear from you.

Chapter 35: Ravish & Ravagery

Summary:

NSFW Warning

Notes:

Another one???

I might be....trying to mass put up a lot, before I go in for my next round of treatment this weekend, and in between fatigue pass outs. like trying to rush a big project you were supposed to have been working on. It's not even finished but you turn in what you have anyway and hope for the best.

that's all I can do right now, hope for the best. All I can keep doing, in the end.

The financial hive is a large, sprawling building of brick; permanent and immovable.

Trolls are shuffled in based on blood; Ceruleans with Navies, Teals with Jades. The occasional Oliveblood is left in limbo, and no one lower than that dares step foot into the place.

Considering his hue -- the hue he's faking -- Gamzee's taken on immediately by a short Teal in glasses, bags under his eyes.

If Gamzee could feel pity for the troll, he might.

 

Instead, he's taken aside and sat down -- offered tea and coffee, both of which are refused as if a Tealblood would surely fuck up the brewing process -- and they get down to business.

Almost everything he says is a bluff but, at the end, when asked to sign a few papers in blood, he smiles.

Gamzee comes out of the financial hive with a satchel of rolled coins, neatly packed away in thin paper. He's never seen that before, but it's a good way of counting.

Of course, walking around with thousands of caegers would put a target on his back, so he's only got a few hundred on him. Still a sizeable amount. There's also a deed, now in his own name and smeared in Indigo rather than Navy, transferring the liquidated properties and deeds over to him.

He'd liked to have gotten boonies for it, but that's not a viable currency.

"Sup?" He meets the gaggle of Greenbloods, going over to his mate, looking bored.

"Got 'nough cash for the night. Also got a deed what'll be good in other financial hives. Codakk was loaded ."

 

*

 

Spotting Gamzee, Karkat is both relieved and beaming, especially when, from what his mate says, he says he got in and has a deed and cash to show for it.

"I told you he was," and with this kind of good news, they can get what their caravan needs and maybe even head downtown to where Vriska instructed.

"How was it? Nobody bothered you, did they?" Karkat asks, halfway between holding Gamzee's hand before making himself stop; he'd picked up earlier that even while quadranted, most highbloods here don't seem to be all that into publicly displaying their relations or affections. It doesn't sit right with him, that trolls would act like that-- to their quadrants, no less --but there isn't anything he can do about it, they've still got to act their bits at least enough to not be singled out.

Should they sell off some of the things they lifted? It'd fatten their purses even more-- perhaps they split up again and one group sells while the other buys things for the caravan?

Karkat's a little torn between either since there's things he wants to get and he's also got to get what Zhen asked for-- though what she asked for just seems like things they'd get anyway, but still.

He brings these concerns and questions up to the other three, seeing what their ideas might be.

 

*

 

“They all bothered me. They’re Tealbloods.” Gamzee keeps a disaffected air about him, though he notices the twitch of Karkat’s hand.

How unfortunate.

He doesn’t want to look down on his mate with a mixture of apathy and bland disregard, but that’s what a Navyblood would do.

“Karkat comes with me to make purchases,” he wants to sling his arm around his mate, “while Xia and Polypa can sell their goods. How’s that sound?” He doesn’t really sound like he’s asking, but Xia nods, shuffling over to Polypa’s side.

“Sorry I snapped at you. Adrenaline.” She murmurs, patting down her dress.

Gamzee bites back a smile.

“Let’s go, then. Got us a lotta goods to purchase — might be we’ll need to hire a pack-troll just to carry it all. A Bronze?”

 

*

 

"You've got nothing to be sorry for. If I was bothered you'd know," Karkat would have said the same even if he wasn't bolstered by his good mood, hoping his mood rubs off on her to put her back into spirits.

Karkat takes most of the jewelry and trinkets from his bag, keeping some for trading, to give to Xia and Polypa to sell. He'd taken fabrics but the kind he needs is white, for what he wants to do for Xia's gift which comes cheaply enough depending on the material-- speaking of gift, he also needs strong weaving straw, which should be cheap too.

Gamzee asks if they should hire a pack-troll, Karkat musing it over, "You think so?" They probably should, it'd look weird if a Navy was trying to carry so much stuff out of the city, probably, and it's a lot of stuff they're buying too.

"A Bronze might be good. Supposing we can find a troll that's not already working for someone." It seemed that way, like mostly highbloods and a few rare lower bloods could afford to play around while everyone else worked.

Either way, they split up again with an agreement to meet outside the city if anything went south.

Karkat heads with Gamzee toward the part of the market where there's less demand for finery and more use-specific things; foodstuffs, produce, hides and craftings, beasts even, all sorts of stuff. Here, Karkat can find the rest of what he needs most likely

"Gamzee," he keeps his voice low enough that unwanted ears don't pick up on anything they shouldn't. "D'you think your ancestor is gonna want to have a celebration for Xia?" Whether or not his guess is right, he still wants to make something for her.

 

*

 

"Maybe, maybe not. Whether or not we're invited is an entirely separate matter, too. He'll do as he pleases." If it's too much work, then probably not -- at least, that's what Gamzee supposes.

"Now, quit all the motherfucking whispering. We got parts to play. I don't wanna have to cull a couple dozen trolls on account of us being too suspicious." There are more middlebloods here, so Gamzee has to adjust himself accordingly.

That is, he has to make himself look more interested in the beasts than the trolls around them.

He doesn't need to find a free pack troll, however, stopping a Cerulean and all but stealing their pack troll. After all, he's a Navyblood. A Navyblood who threatens to rip out various organs, but he delivers his threats with the same dryness a Navyblood would.

Once they've gotten a pack troll on their side, he starts buying the essentials; sugar, milled flour, pre-dried beast meat. He's terse with Karkat and barely even acknowledges the pack troll, snapping his fingers rather than speaking; daring to be questioned on his choice of beast-feed or why a Navyblood would need beast-feed.

"Are you done here?" He asks, pocketing his hands.

"I can feel my intellect actively dropping." As if, but it sounds like something a Navyblood would say in a general market.

He's not going near the Lusus milk or forcing himself to talk about anything muscle-related. Gamzee knows the weird shit Navybloods get into. He prefers his own weird shit -- which, thankfully, isn't usually sold in cities.

 

*

 

Gamzee acts his bit almost naturally, commanding the poor Bronze troll with a dry ease and a slew of threats; the guy is real quick to join them and even quicker to obey Gamzee despite the Cerulean he was just catering to.

They go through getting most foodstuffs first, Karkat adding in honey and fruits, essentials as well as requested. When asked if they're done yet, Karkat does his best to be just as dry and curt with Gamzee, though his version is more muted, being that he's a lower caste.

Salt, a decent chunk of it like Gamzee had said earlier and a pouch of it ground up, is added on to the pack troll's burden. Karkat searches out a pot-- ends up with a free one and won't that be useful? --and the materials for weaving, internally pleased when he finds all of what he wants and trying not to show it. The pack troll seems to be doing his best to hold out and Karkat could feel bad for him, almost, adding on the things he wanted.

"I suppose that's everything, isn't it," Karkat's tone is flat and almost bored, as if he's here only because his quadrant can't stand to be here among the market rabble.

 

*

 

"Is it?" The Indigoblood asks, craning his head to get a better look at the face of his 'quadrantmate'.

He didn't know Karkat could act so dry -- almost bored -- but he prefers it to the sweet tones his mate uses to suck up to other highbloods.

"Did we need the rock salt and the ground salt? You think I don't have trolls to grind my own salt? Waste of money." It'd also be a lie to say he isn't enjoying the Bronzeblood trying to heft all their things without a struggle.

Rather than take Karkat's hand, he gestures for the mutant to follow him -- like touching the troll is beneath him -- and the Bronzeblood follows suit. After all, he'll get paid.

 

Whether or not he lives through the night is another thing entirely.

 

While they walk through the streets, Gamzee putting Karkat ahead of him and forcing a pace just uncomfortable enough to have his mate panting a bit, he can't help but steal a quick caress down the troll's backside. A pinch to his ass.

"Isn't it pathetic?" He intones, like he'd done absolutely nothing.

"A shitblood is stronger than you." The way he addresses Karkat could read pitch, or it could read pale -- it really depends on how his mate spins it.

"Why do I keep you around?" He breathes down the back of his mate's neck, holding back a smile.

 

*

 

Whatever Gamzee's trying to pull, Karkat is confused for it. He can't quite keep up with his mate's long strides, and being made to walk in front of him couldn't make that more obvious, Karkat's lips held in a line as he tries to conceal how out of breath he is.

Fighting back a squeak as a hand wanders down the curve of his back to pinch at his rear, though Karkat can't keep back the bodily need to tense up. He'd glare at Gamzee, pulling such a thing now , of all times, if it wouldn't blow their act.

Though, once he notices, this street isn't as crowded as the market, and while Gamzee's still playing at disdainful highblood he's getting away with doing things at him such as that, breath ghosting down his neck.

"I thought it was because I was pitiable. Is that not it?" Karkat plays at being a coy Greenblood, hoping that the Bronze has the good sense to avert his eyes.

 

*

 

"You're a pitiable waste of caegers." Gamzee murmurs, taking note of every little nook and cranny they could slip into -- just so he could nose at Karkat's neck, nip at his throat.

 

Trap him against a cold brick building and fuck him silly.

 

The Bronzeblood is beginning to slow down, even if only the slightest bit; it's enough to have Gamzee staring impassively at the lowblood.

"If you," he looms, getting in the troll's face, "need to take a break," he holds out his hand toward a bench, "why don't you go take a seat?" He straightens, noticing the Bronzeblood actually able to breathe again.

"My palemate needs to be reminded his place, anyway." This is said just loud enough for Karkat to hear, like he's an unruly beast.

The look Gamzee gives Karkat, as the Bronzeblood skitters away, is cold as ice; he grips his mate's wrist firmly, pulling him along, suddenly dipping into an alleyway.

It's a dead end and, with no destitute lowbloods currently occupying the space, perfect for their needs -- his needs, he supposes.

 

The Indigoblood lets out a breath, pressing Karkat to the wall of the alley.

"You're so cute," he breathes, "getting defiant like that." A cool hand, placed to the centre of the back, keeps his mate pressed to the wall -- but he doesn't otherwise restrain Karkat. He wants to see his mate squirm, see where Karkat will draw the line.

"One night," he murmurs, other hand stroking through Karkat's hair, "you'll be clad in the finest, most vibrant of Reds, and I'll flaunt you. You'll be the prettiest breeder, all dolled-up in Red; heavy with our grubling." The Indigoblood rumbles, lips pressed to the back of Karkat's head.

"Can my mate stick his ass out for me?" His touch trails to a green cheek.

The Olive-hued make-up doesn't look half-bad, but Karkat's bright red would look so much better.

 

*

 

He raises a brow at that, Gamzee saying he needed to be reminded of his place-- what was that supposed to mean?? --like Karkat had actually done something.

That look his mate gives him only raises his suspicions further, mounting pretty high up when he's tugged along with Gamzee, all but confused for what the actual heck he was up to.

Turning into the alleyway clears up a lot .

 

Things sort of click in the moment Karkat's front is put up against cold brick, hand lightly at the small of his back-- Karkat could move if he wanted, it feels like; Gamzee seems pretty sure that he won't --while his red flushes down his cheeks.

He should have picked up on Gamzee being horny , he supposes-- and don't Zhen's words come back to him about his mate being capricious ?? Gamzee did hint at it earlier, at the river. And it only gets worse with his mate whispering things like that against the back of his head, nearly pressing Karkat into the wall, beginning to fidget. Only really squirms when Gamzee asks right at the nape of his neck to put his backside out.

"Y-You-- you're insatiable , wanting to do this in an alley...," Karkat can't quite keep the stammer from his voice. He's not accounting how his heart pounds heavy between his chest and brick wall. Karkat's cheeks are red enough, close enough to be steaming up the alleyway if Gamzee pushed him further.

The situation's kinky, he's read it enough to understand the shames that come with it, and here his mate is pulling a fast one on him. Karkat could be dizzy with the things that go through his head, nevermind that he's starting to actually feel like he is.

 

*

 

Gamzee twirls a lock of hair round his finger, no longer acting like a high-and-mighty, huffy Navyblood.

"I'm allowed, ain't I? Hardly ever had time for a crush , then The Mirthful Messiahs toss a mate in my lap -- a plump, pretty motherfucker who gets all red the minute I say something dirty." He smooths the lock of hair behind Karkat's ear, able to see his mate's face just a bit better.

"'Sides, ain't like you know what the fuck I wholly wanna do." Karkat's skirts are flipped, a cool hand running claws along the tenderness of his inner thigh.

"I bet you read on this somewhere in one of your books, right? Can't be too unusual. There're communal slurry collection hives, trolls what you can pay to play your false quadrants; the city's real fucked like that. Two motherfuckers in an alley's probably some tamer shit." His hand rounds Karkat's backside, fingers slipping underneath the delicate silk of his panties, gripping his ass.

Jostling the smaller troll, Gamzee peels his panties down -- lower and lower -- while wondering how he could get Karkat some that'd fit him properly.

The white silk is nice to the touch, but he knows Karkat would look good in lace, too; he'd look cute in a pair that covered a bit more. Helped mask the scent of a breeder better than these.

Gamzee sinks to his knees, the white silk at Karkat's ankles.

"Lift your strutpods for me. Can't get everything all filthy this time -- though I'd love to see all them motherfuckers and the ways they'd look at you," he kisses a thigh, "knowing they can't have you none," he feels lightheaded, gaze shifting between Karkat's thighs, a glance stolen to the mouth of the alley, "not even as a palemate."

 

*

 

"Y-Yeah I have, s-s-so-so what if I have--?" His breath hitches, another squeak let out as chilled hand palms up the bouncy curve of his rear, flesh being squeezed and sending something sparking up his nerves.

Karkat's even gone so far as to imagine such a thing like this happening, but now that he's got Gamzee instead of a faceless troll the very thing seems so much more intense.

Panties get rolled down his thighs, his legs, Gamzee shifting down with them and telling Karkat to lift his legs, underwear removed completely from his person and now bare under his dress. Shivering and tensing as cool lips press at the back of his thigh, Karkat's skin growing hot and unnecessarily sensitive to it.

"I bet y-you'd like to do that, wouldn't you, show off h-how much no one else can have me jus' so you can be smug about it." Karkat is reminded of their celebration, how Gamzee said him being naked was a 'look don't touch' kind of thing; without a doubt he's sure Gamzee would do that all the time if he could Karkat can guess for a fact he'd be popular at a brothel hive.

 

*

 

"I'd love to do that." He trails soft kisses up along Karkat's thigh, feeling every twitch of the muscle; every movement Karkat makes.

Gamzee nudges his mate's stance wider, blowing a gentle puff of air over his exposed nook.

"A motherfucker's very pleased with you, and you make him very proud." Black lips press just to the inner junction of Karkat's thigh, right next to his plump nook -- and Gamzee can smell it, could flick his tongue out and taste his mate if he wanted.

He could also flip Karkat's skirts back down, give him that much privacy and humility, but, if any trolls feel like watching, he wants them to see him take his mate. Not some no-name, faceless troll.

"Does my mate want my tongue inside his hot lil' nook?" Gamzee asks, the air feeling thick with arousal. Like they've been abstaining from each other for a sweep .

"What does my mate want? I won't do nothing if I don't know what my mate wants." He licks his lips, draws his tongue along the soft skin of Karkat's inner thigh.

" Tell me , mate of mine, or I'll just make you drip right here, like this." He switches to the other thigh, peppering the skin again in kisses, treating Karkat like a virgin when he really wants to fuck him into the ground.

"You'll have to walk the whole way back to the 'vans with your poor nook all puffy." He teases, reaching up to give Karkat's behind a quick slap.

"And I'll keep caressing your ass the whole time. Maybe, next time you get yourself under my carapace, I'll bend you over my lap and make your backside red -- but, I ain't sure that'd even be a fit punishment for you." Fingers sinking into Karkat's ass, Gamzee sits back on the balls of his feet, and catches site of Karkat's chute.

 

That'll be his, too, sooner or later.

His mouth, too.

Just thinking about it has him needing, chirring from the depths of his chest.

"C'mon, tell your mate what you need of him. It'll be an awful disappointment to go back to your fingers, wouldn't it?"

 

*

 

He can feel when slurry collects just behind fat, puffy lips and Gamzee hasn't done anything more than talk dirty and kiss his skin. Not even kiss at his nook but around it like a tease, Karkat biting his lip and pushing more against the wall. Each little thing done earns a quivering twitch from his body, from his mate mouthing along the plump flesh of his thighs, just teasing around his nook, to how hands grip him nice and firm to keep him in place.

Karkat realizes the kind of game Gamzee's trying to play, cheeks gone full red and the color beginning to spread down his neck. He wants Karkat to say it all out loud , asking what he wants like Gamzee doesn't already have a clue or the mind of what he wants to do to him wants Karkat to die of shame, basically, because spewing his own filth before while halfway out of his mind wasn't enough.

Even at the threat of being left to drip and walk all the way back with his own slurry dribbling down his thighs, Karkat can feel his nook throb, reluctantly allowing droplets to run along his inner thighs.

"Y're bein' mean," he whines, stance being widened, exposing him further, "Tryna make me say stuff like that, 'cause you wanna hear me babble about how I want your tongue."

Karkat isn't keen on walking through the city more than half-aroused, having to feel his fat nook with every step he takes-- he'd be a beacon to any troll picking up on his scent and then there'd be trouble.

Yelping shortly as he's smacked on his backside, Gamzee not sparing any detail of how he'll punish Karkat for being unruly and defiant, like leaving him hot and bothered isn't punishment enough.

"Wanna hear me say filth again, teasin' me like this. That I need y'to fill my hot sugarhole up before I try an' do it myself.."

 

*

 

"Your fingers can't get as deep as I can, Karkat." He takes a hand off Karkat just to run his middle finger along Karkat's thighs, meticulously collecting his spilled slurry. Gamzee isn't shy about sucking his finger clean, almost purring in satisfaction.
"You've gotten sweeter." He rumbles, getting to his feet; he shifts the waist of Karkat's dress higher and higher, until he can run his hands from the cleft between Karkat's thighs to his buds.

"Maybe more sensitive, too." He muses, caressing Karkat's soft stomach; never venturing low enough to even give his mate the idea he'd slip a hand between his generous thighs.

Instead, Gamzee's touch trails upward, and he cups a bud, massaging what flesh there is.

"You're dripping, and I ain't even touched your nook." He kneads the bud in his hand, lightly pinching the nipple; giving it a few tugs until it perks up.

He repeats this with the other bud, massaging and teasing the nipple.

"Ain't told me what you want, though, Karkat -- and if I catch you trying to use your fingers to please yourself, I'll just watch. It won't be 'nough." His hand snakes through the collar of Karkat's shirt, fingers splaying to cup his mate's jaw.

"Do you wanna hear what I want?" He purrs, bringing his lips to Karkat's ear.
"I wanna drink down your slurry, and shove my bulge in you while your fat lil' nook's still quivering. I wanna wring you dry on my bulge and fill you so full, make the slurry take , and after I want you to cling to me 'cause you can't walk." His hand retreats back down the front of Karkat's dress, pinching and tugging on a nub.

"I want you so blissed out, your pan's dribbling out your ears -- and, when dawn comes, I want you to take my bulge down your nutrition chute." He applies just a bit more pressure, then massages away any discomfort he might have caused.

"I'm also thinking of preparing your chute for me. Be a shame not to cover every part of you in my slurry, wouldn't it, mate of mine? You'd like that, wouldn't you? Who'd like it more," his hands return to Karkat's stomach, his hips pressed firmly to Karkat's ass, "the breeder in you, or the filthy lil' village troll?"

 

*

 

He wants both to bury his face somewhere so he won't have to see anything-- maybe even up to his burning ears so he won't have to hear anything either --, and to push his body into Gamzee's hands, needing touch, something that would alleviate the fever in his flesh.

Gamzee is only right, Karkat's own fingers won't do as much for him anymore even if he wanted to be stubborn enough to pretend that it would. He's got half the mind to fake it, but that thought is formed on already half of his brain capacity.

Which may as well have left him, lips parting and his expression almost glazing over as Gamzee cups at his chest-- the flesh is doubly sensitive, more than Karkat would have thought, his palm-filling mounds have just a little squish more than Karkat last remembered. His mate teases the flesh, pinching at budded nipples until they're stiffened up and every minute graze or brush sends something through him, almost throbbing in time with his pounding heart.

The things Gamzee says against his ear has his mental function fogged over, mind unhelpful as it supplies phantom sensations Karkat would feel as if he were reading something so juicy and full of pan-rotting filth ( thinking how it'd feel to take his mate's bulge down his throat, split his back end open on those ridges ). He can't even begin to think of anything to say back-- never mind think at all --and it's going to be hard to refute the fact that anything Gamzee says or does isn't making red slick drool down his skin.

"'S not fair," Karkat almost slurs, his mate pressing bold against his bared backside. He's weak in the knees, thankful that the wall is there whenever his muscles fail and go slack and limp. "Y'd break me like that," he says but Karkat doesn't sound exactly against it.

" Un fair, gonna say all of th-that but y'want me to...to say stuff like that ," at least, ask for such things while he can feel the shame for it. Fine . "...y're such a pervert ..won't you touch me? Gonna talk all like that and make me drip, give me something , dammit. Your tongue, your fingers, your bulge ..," he's more or less whining now, ignoring shame to roll his hips back against Gamzee's.

 

*

 

“I been touching you.” Gamzee supplies, chuckling at the way Karkat squirms against him, hot and needy.

“Feels like I don’t need to do nothing else but give you some touch and you’re all slick and dripping, mate of mine.” Although he teases, Gamzee slips back down to a crouch.

His tongue traces the seam of Karkat’s drooling nook, picking up sweet slurry.
He kisses those lips like they could return the gesture, cool tongue darting between them, collecting hot slurry to drip down his throat. His hands dig into Karkat’s ass, exposing him just that much more; giving Gamzee full access to every single part of his mate’s puffy nook.

The Indigoblood shivers when his long tongue pushes its way into Karkat. He can feel his poor mate shuddering for contact, weak-kneed; Gamzee’s ready to catch Karkat in his lap if he should buckle and fall.

With a slick squelch , Gamzee pulls away just enough to breathe, licking his lips clean. He swallows the dregs of slurry that had been sitting in his mouth.

“Does my mate want his nook stirred up so bad he can’t motherfucking walk?” The highblood coos, voice rough, low and needy.

“Don’t worry none,” he kneads Karkat’s behind, resting a flushed cheek against the other, “I’ll carry you home, and lay you out on the furs, and cater to your everything.”

Even the image of Karkat, fucked boneless and laid out in the main tent, chirping for Gamzee whenever he needs something, is attractive; it stirs up the protector in him as if Karkat doesn’t naturally do that.

 

*

 

Karkat jolts, Gamzee finally putting his tongue to him, feeling him lap along juicy puffy slit, can hear when he does it too, how his mate mouths over plump flesh like the most indecent kind of kiss. The sound is obscene as lips press at his lower set, and Karkat hardly makes it to stand while Gamzee's tongue smooths in through his folds, shivering with a light gasp.

Can hear Gamzee swallow like his slime is something to do that with, and Karkat could very damn well tumble down from that . That glazy look to him only gets added on, his own red tongue lolling over his lower lip and every particular stroke of tongue has his pupils attempt to either roll or cross up.

Even when he pulls away it's lewd , Karkat whimpering as slick sound is made as that long tongue slides back out and he could swear Gamzee's breath on his sensitive skin is pretty heated; probably from having his mouth on him, leaving an aching need behind.

The thought of being made unable to walk shouldn't sound as good as it does, and Gamzee is a cheat with his words and his voice for being able to do that. Karkat can't rightly think-- if he can even think at all --with the ebbing edge of pleasure fading. His mate is certainly no help at all, playing with ample handfuls of ass and building up the need for release.

He should refuse, he'll end up being a burden if he has to be carried back-- and everyone will know , the thought of that should discourage any of this furthering, never mind of his nook getting so completely stirred he's left in a stupor and incapable of walking; both would end up going hand in hand for him.

"You'll h h ave me a mess 'f y'do that," Karkat slurs, his insides wound up tightly to his core and lightly frustrated that Gamzee had stopped at all; not being in any kind of right mind of thought to even try and make his words even sound like a refusal. "Gunna stir everythin' up 'til m'pan is shot out my ears, aren'tcha..."

 

*

 

"You talk on that like you wouldn't enjoy every motherfucking second of it." He pecks his mate's nook, licking the slick red off his lips.
Karkat's definitely gotten sweeter.

"Now," he casts a quick glance to the opening of the alleyway, then returns his attention to Karkat, "I'm gonna drink your slurry. Give your mate a good load, a'ight?" The Indigoblood feels himself bloom from the neck of his tunic to the tips of his ears, skin heated.

Eager lips and tongue return to Karkat's nook, firm hands gripping Karkat's hips, holding him in place. He kisses and licks and sucks, plunging his tongue into his mate's depths; panting hotly, pulling breath whenever he can.

It's obscene, his long tongue snaking into Karkat as far as the muscle can go, coming out drenched in red slick.

Gamzee tries to angle his head, keep Karkat pressed flush to him; he means to drink every last drop of slurry, seemingly intent on sticking to his word.

It'd take nothing more than a second for him to edge down his trousers and unsheathe himself. He can feel his engorged bulge curling eagerly at the entrance.

If he were in Karkat's position -- if Karkat were on his knees, sucking him dry -- Gamzee's certain his bulge would've already unsheathed itself, pulsating and dripping like something from one of his mate's books.

The highblood chirrs deep in his throat, mouth open around Karkat's nook, tongue caressing that sensitive place; the place where Karkat should have a sheathe.

He's asking nicely -- as if Karkat could hold back -- for his mate's slurry.

 

*

 

He can't be bothered to care about possible passerby at the alley's entrance, once Gamzee's mouth is on him again it takes all of Karkat's attention. Biting his lip on the kind of noises he makes as his entire body seems to light up, pleasure being built back up right quick and Karkat fumbling attempts to keep himself quiet only working half the time.

Gamzee holding him by the hips keep his body in place and somewhat upright-- which is a hidden blessing for how any strength in his upper half leaves him to slump against the brick wall, staring through lust-haze at the ground and glad that his short horns let him lean the way he does. He can feel each swipe of tongue and how the affected nerves have his body tense and shift, how his mate sucks at his swollen folds and how it makes Karkat buzz .

After all that prior teasing and with him already dripping slurry, it's hard not to spill, not to buck and push his nook at Gamzee's mouth; it is hard not to notice and feel every little thing being done, lukewarm tongue smoothing over bundled nerves and nerve-lined flesh, slipping out to sweep over smooth sheatheless flesh. "..Gam z ee...," his voice breaks and hitches, just from his mate's mouth while Karkat's begun to drool from his own, mental usage dropping and dropping.

His breathing is reduced to ragged panting, a steady, growing pulse running through his body, down to his core and in his nook. "Gamzee...!" Karkat's cry cuts off to almost drunken repetitions, bursting from the inside and nearly gushing heat. Body tightening as he half muffles a wail, thighs shaking all the way down as he spills sugarslick into his mate's mouth. His knees buckle by the time he's finished, only held up thanks to Gamzee's grip on him and the wall keeping him from collapsing forward.

 

*

 

Karkat's quivering nook spills into his mouth, Gamzee trying to swallow in time with those pulsating lips; he chokes, quietly, slowing his breath while his mate shudders and shakes.
With an audible, thick gulp , Gamzee pulls away.

Strings of thick red slurry cling to his lips, which he wipes away and licks off his fingers -- and then he goes over his mate's nook one last time, tongue flat, cleaning him of any excess that might've been left behind.

" Thank-you, Karkat ." He purrs, getting to his feet.

There's an intense heat in his stomach, Karkat's slurry mixing into his own body. He'd take more time to revel in the sensation, dead-panned, but he has other things on his mind.

 

He loops an arm around his mate, keeping the poor troll upright, while his free hand works down the waist of his trousers just enough for him to push his thumb against his sheathe and --
A low growl leaves Gamzee as his bulge unfurls, engorged, betraying his blood colour. It weeps a pale lavender, and he jostles his mate.

"You're gonna have to stand up for this, Karkat. I know you're not broke yet. C'mon, use your legs." Although he says this, Gamzee hardly gives Karkat time to right himself, bringing their hips flush with a quiet slap .
His bulge immediately knows where to go, brute-forcing its way halfway -- and Gamzee gasps, claws digging lines into Karkat's hips.

"Your nook's always so tight for such a fat lil' thing." He rumbles, forcefully stuffing more and more of his length into Karkat until the mutant's stretched around him, and it's almost painful.

The smile stretching his lips is absolutely lecherous, covetous, fangs bared shamelessly as he looms over the mutant.

"It's great, ain't it?" The rolls of his hips are hard, Karkat's own held firmly in place; Gamzee really does mean to break Karkat.

"You're my personal bucket. Takes nothin' at all to get you drippin', and you always tighten right the fuck back up." He's panting quietly as he speaks, picking up the pace almost immediately, pulling out halfway only to plunge back into those hot depths.

"How's it feel? Is my mate gonna cry? From pain or pleasure? Shame?" His low baritone mixes delightfully with the squelching slap of their bodies, his claws dug firmly into the mutant's ample hips.

"Turn your face t'me. I wanna see it."

 

*

 

There's fluff in his head for sure, prolonging that blissed sensation from horn to toes and Karkat is too confused to muster more than a "nnnhh..?" when Gamzee nearly hoists him up, rumbling behind him, over him, the sudden snap of their hips making him yelp and jump.

Karkat stutters on his mate's name, bulge thick and smearing on his skin, already seeking out his trembling nook for the heat it offers, filling his tightness too much all at once and having Karkat wail, "G gghhamzee !!"

Gamzee doesn't let him have the chance to adjust, never mind stand properly, the length wriggling to thrust as deep as it can get, his mate forcing ridges past his entry with a need ; he's filled and stretched quicker than Gamzee's done to him before, so much that the sheer impact of him has Karkat's pan pulling a fast blank on him, half-lidded eyes mindlessly crisscrossed, welled with tears on his lashes, while sound drools from his lips, making half-formed nonsense.

"--h hghg , Gamzsh ....!? N nnf f... fhhah ..!!" Karkat can't help but to let out something for every slap of skin at skin, can't even start on his explanation that breeder bodies heal fast-- as if he could even focus on anything that's not his mate's bulge.
There's so much Karkat's not sure how he isn't completely dumb yet, Gamzee driving in deep and hard that he can feel the stretch of his body trying to accommodate, streaks of pleasure just on the border of pain; claiming Karkat his personal bucket and his stupid breeder brain is all too pleased to repeat the thought.

Gamzee tells him to turn his face, and Karkat's reluctant-- slow because his own body doesn't want to listen outright to anything he wants --only because he knows Gamzee's going to make fun of his face later. That slack expression sits clearly on his features, Karkat trying and failing to keep his eyes on Gamzee as he tilts his head over his shoulders.

 

*

 

If someone were to look down the alleyway, it'd look like a Navyblood raping a Jadeblood -- and only the dumbest troll would try to do anything, Navies are just about the highest trolls that can be found almost anywhere -- and, with the sounds Karkat's making, the pathetic way he tries to twist out his name, Gamzee's not entirely sure he has his mate's full consent.

That doesn't matter, though.

Gamzee doesn't need it -- Gamzee doesn't even need Karkat to love him -- and this probably wouldn't be happening if Karkat despised him, fought him, clocked him in the jaw and hissed whenever he came near. His mate would've simply been bred and left to feed on sugar and gestate. Gamzee wouldn't want to always be by his side, always feel his wamrth; wake up with him and fall asleep with him.

His first release hits hard and fast, liberally coating his mate's inner walls.

"Ka- ah -Karkat," he groans quietly, "you're makin' s'ch a lovely face right now." The Indigoblood doesn't even let himself rest, pumping into Karkat while his own slurry has yet to settle.

He can feel it slosh around inside his mate, trying to take.

"My perfect, personal bucket." His mate's ass is starting to turn red from his thrusting, and Gamzee can only imagine how puffy his mate's nook must be.

The Indigoblood empties himself again into Karkat, grabs the neck of the dress to haul him up, and traps the mutant between cold brick and his own rutting hips.

His hands slip between the brick and his mate, under the dress, kneading Karkat's soft buds.

Anywhere he can, he kisses and nips at exposed skin; whether it be Karkat's lips, his jaw, his ears, or his neck. Gamzee even leaves a trail of cool saliva along the back of Karkat's neck, where he would've been scruffed as a grub and pupa.

"Th' more noise y'make, th' more I wanna make you my lil' sex sleeve, mate ." Gamzee doesn't have the capacity for names, not with a third release building deep in his gut; he hammers deep into Karkat, squeezing his buds hard with the first gush of slime; his hips roll with subsequent bursts of pleasure, until his third orgasm subsides.

However, Gamzee stays firmly stuck inside Karkat, refusing his aching bulge to retract.

"Gotta wait for my material t'take." He slurs, panting, some of his wild hair free from its ponytail.

"Don' wanna leave a mess b'hind, righ'?"

 

*

 

Karkat squeals at the first gush of cool slime, brows knitted up and pupils rolling back. It pours straight into his womb, nerves shooting off to what's left of his pan that he's being bred again in spite of the grubling already inside him. Too soon he's climaxed again, though there isn't as much of his own slime this go, the walls of his nook clamping tight around throbbing Purple bulge.

There's not enough mental power to do anything more than buzz from his throat, fluttery panting until Gamzee begins a new pace, hips wetly smacking into hips as Karkat whines, already vice tight around his mate. His orgasm isn't as jarring, simply picking up and prolonging his state of bliss-blank.

When he's hoisted up though it changes the angle, pressed against the brick and rutted , whines turned to half-sobs, groans, and partial squeals. Feebly bracing against the wall as Gamzee litters his skin with kisses, back arched and head dropped as far back as it can, the position winding up pushing his aching chest into his mate's hands; the way he grips the sensitive flesh does something, almost kneading a little too hard and contesting with the third round of potent slime to be emptied into him-- unhelpful entirely, essentially saying how he wants Karkat as his bulge sleeve and dumb breeder brain seems way too pleased about that too (maybe one day, if Karkat ever becomes more amenable to the thought being more than fantasy) --, Karkat all but groaning his release, wringing Gamzee's bulge for everything he's got.

He can feel when Gamzee finishes, bulge lazily curling inside him, but Gamzee keeps him well and stuck on his ridges-- to let it all take so they don't make a mess is the reason. Karkat's far too bliss-panned to do much more than shudder a moan and babble nonsense that would be incoherent affection, body tensing and twitching from aftershocks.

His gut is nice and rounded, not just from being bulge-stuffed but from all the slurry he's holding; if he pulls the dress back down, Karkat might look like he's been carrying for a while, despite his chest not being developed yet.

 

*

 

Massaging his mate's buds, Gamzee waits to catch his breath -- he doesn't need to ask to know Karkat's hardly coherent. The constant, unyielding pressure surrounding his bulge is enough to tell him he could get his mate to nod along to just about anything, so long as it involved being bred.

He tries not to take too long to recover, letting his material settle deep inside the mutant; it's quick to take, at the very least.

His touch skims Karkat's stomach, a quiet chirr of appreciation.

" All mine ." There's a loud, wet sucking sound as the base of his bulge is pulled from Karkat's nook, its ridges squeezing through the mutant one last time. The organ is covered in thick streaks of red, which disappear into his own body -- and that makes him shudder, makes him wonder what if feels like to be filled with slurry.

"Okay," he lightly taps a thigh, getting Karkat back into his panties as if he were a pupa, "time to get back. I bet everyone's already gotten all their shit." He turns Karkat to face him and, being careful of his mate's stomach, hoists him up.

"Hide your pretty face in my neck so motherfuckers can't see the face you're making. It's awful pleasing." He gives Karkat a kiss, then guides him to do as he's told, walking out of the alley.

The look he gives the Bronzeblood dares him to ask what was going on, even though he probably heard Karkat's squealing if he was at all listening.

 

Everyone's waiting by the city walls, the twins letting out a shriek as they see Karkat -- and they come running over, blue gowns billowing behind them.

"Is he dead!?" Baizli chirps.

"Don't be dead!" Barzum grabs the hem of Karkat's dress, tugging on the embroidered fabric.

"We were so mean and now he's dead!" The twins wail, Karako honking, trying to remind them not to jostle Karkat -- because Gamzee has a reason for carrying Karkat, but he's not dead.

Polypa's picking her nails, and Xia pretends to have little interest -- but she knows what a bliss-fucked breeder looks like. She's been one herself. It's a better look on Karkat, for sure. More pitiable.

 

*

 

He's got at least two fully formed brain cells to rub together to produce some kind of thought, though Gamzee doesn't even give him the chance to see if he needs to actually be carried-- they both know he's not going to be able to even take a step, never mind standing.

Karkat groans lightly, chirring and chirping as he clings to Gamzee, burying his face in his neck; the further from the alley and the more they get back into the crowds, the more his sense of shame returns, not even going to look at the Bronze troll, he doesn't want to see in his face whether he knows or heard or not. His main indication of them leaving the city is the noise of hustle getting quieter and quieter, at least more distant as they pass the gates.

If he could look up at all without knowing he's still somewhat bliss-faced, he'd try and reassure the twins that he's fine. Still does, even if muffled from pressing his face tight into Gamzee's neck and clothes; oh stars , how is he even going to do anything when they get back-- how is he going to look at anyone when they get back?? Karkat's sure at least most if not all of them who are older will know at least the nature of why Karkat's being carried.

His makeup must be a mess if it hasn't come off on Gamzee's clothes, and he's sure the dress probably smells like fuck -- if those cloister robes he had on before are dry he's absolutely wearing that.

Karkat figures they must be a little near the caravans, since he can hear the stream. Has the wonder how Marvus handled Chitti, if either were okay; how Chahut's cocoon was doing.

Absolutely dies in his own blush hearing the twins shriek after him, tugging at his clothes in their lament; finally willing to come out and now Karkat's the one hiding, good grief.

 

*

 

The twins seem to have entirely forgotten their anger and confusion, chirping apologies at Karkat the entire walk back.

Like he's injured and not just freshly-fucked and too weak to walk.

At some point, before reaching the caravans, Kurloz comes to meet them -- he greets them with a smile, offering in silence to take the Bronzeblood's load off. Upon seeing an obvious Indigoblood, the poor troll freezes up, guided along by a spidery hand to the back.

Marvus greets them -- and keeps any comments he has to himself -- with Chitti squeeing in his lap. The little grub had a good time just gnawing on his hair, his fingers; crawling around the expanse of his back and shoulders.

More than once, it tried to either worm its way to Zhen, or to roll over to Chahut's cocoon for a little snack.

Marvus supplied it with some berries, instead.

He hoists Zhen up, the troll bleary and half-asleep, and vacates the merchant caravan for Gamzee and Karkat.

 

"Mate of mine," he coos once they're alone, the twins being coralled by the older Indigobloods, "I'm gonna set you down on a nice pile. Don't go making a mess, a'ight?" Still holding onto Karkat, Gamzee shuffles together all of the soft things in the caravan, creating a nice, sprawling pile into which he gingerly deposits Karkat.

The Indigoblood isn't done yet; he strokes his mate's face, pushing hair out of his eyes.

"You was so good , Karkat." As much as he wants to lie in the pile with Karkat and caress him until his shame dissipates, Gamzee knows he has things to do; he has to dissolve the salt, handle the Bronzeblood, handle the twins .

Most importantly, he has to take care of the mess he made.

"Must be awful tired right 'bout now, though." He's a bit tired, himself, but probably nowhere near as much as Karkat.

"I'll take care of you, so you just lie down for a while. If a motherfucker needs anything, he'll call for me, won't he? I don't wanna find you tripped 'cause you tried to go somewhere." Gamzee doesn't leave yet, sat at the edge of the pile.

The neck of his tunic is smeared with Olive, his palm dusted in it.

"... I love you so, Karkat."

 

*

 

Karkat is sorry to make Zhen move but not enough to forgo wanting to utterly hide and not let anyone see him. His cheeks are still hot even, being unburied and unwrapped from Gamzee to be put down on the pile, his mate being simperingly sweet his fangs might actually rot. Doesn't even have the heart or the energy to throw anything back at Gamzee (telling Karkat don't make a mess-- he's just made a mess of him and his ability to walk without tripping over himself , Karkat should be able to make a little mess), chirring and still a little dewy-eyed when he looks up.

Cool fingers for his flushed cheeks, Gamzee stroking his face and through his hair, speaking gently at him, even praising. "I'm alright," he says, even though his entire lower half would beg to differ, "Aren't you tired? You did all the work..," any mention of what had just transpired promptly gets snapped off in his mouth, simply nodding at Gamzee wanting Karkat to call for him.

"Mmh, don't worry, I won't try to move so soon.....as much as I want to," everyone's going to be up and moving around and doing stuff, and Karkat's stuck in here because he went along with his mate's whims and let him throw his legs out of order; such is life.

This even throws back some of his plans and projects of the night and day that he was hoping on-- they didn't even visit the part of the city Vriska wanted him to but Karkat doesn't think they really missed out on much.

Gamzee earns a bright smile despite the remnants of bliss on Karkat's face, " I love you so ." He wants to ask Gamzee if he'll teach Karkat proper Beforian, wants to know what parts of the phrase mean what word, even if there's no proper translation to Alternian.

He's still close enough, hasn't left yet, that Karkat can reach him, pulling Gamzee as much as he can without unsettling himself from the pile to meet his lips softly.

Laying back down, Karkat sighs, trying not to move in a way that will remind his legs that they ache but there's nothing to be done about it right then.

"Will you get my bag from the pack troll? I may as well sort it out while I'm not doing anything else." He wants to ask for the twins, even if they'll question him about what's up with him and why can't he walk.

 

*

 

Grinning dumbly, Gamzee nods, hopping from the back of the merchant van.

Unlike their other two caravans, the merchant van has a small door to the back, and a side which seems to pop open -- obviously to display wares, although Gamzee doubts any sane troll would willingly try to haggle with an Indigoblood.

He checks over his shoulder, pleased with the sight of his mate and of Chahut's clean, purpling cocoon.

The Indigoblood retrieves Karkat's things, dropping them off and stealing another kiss.

Inside the cocoon, Chahut stirs, shifting; that reminds him.

"I know what my mate can get up to while his body rights itself." He trills, this time retrieving the pot and the rock of salt.

 

Marvus has already dressed the twins in their own garments, Karako taking the initiative to do so himself; he always feels safer with his knives.

Xia gets to gathering dried grasses and dead twigs, insisting that they could rest in the same spot two days in a row -- it won't kill them -- and, if Karkat can't even walk, then it'd just be more stressful on him.

She's the only troll willing to openly acknowledge what happened, so Gamzee gives in, shrugging.

Polypa's sent off to the stream to fill the pot with water, while Xia immediately starts fanning a cook fire with Zhen's fan.

Said Indigoblood crouches beside the flame, content in the warmth.

Gamzee, Kurloz, and Marvus begin to set up their tents -- early for them, but they get it done quick enough, layering the ground in coloured furs.

Xia's already salted and skewered some meat, wondering if she should make preserves or use up a few ingredients for the dawn-time meal.

 

Leaving the others to idle inside or around the main tent -- sans Karako, who takes watch just outside the merchant caravan where Chahut has spun -- Gamzee passes him by, and climbs into the back.

"C'mere, we got it all set up. Gonna sleep communally 'gain, ain't much privacy to be had, 'less we switch it up with Brother Karako and keep Sister Chahut some company while she spins." He plucks up both Karkat and his mate's things, only vaguely wary at the sound of another approaching caravan.

They have enough trolls to defend themselves, keep everyone safe -- but he still holds Karkat closer, nudging his mate's face back into the crook of his neck.

"Keep your nugbone down." He murmurs, Karako and Kurloz following the same sound.

If all else fails then, at the very least, Marvus and Xia could take the youngest trolls and flee.

Chapter 36: Catalyst & Punishment

It's honestly too soon for him to be moved but Karkat keeps his complaints as minimal as possible, despite having to go to the main tent. He's so tempted to say as much, that they switch with Karako and continue to stay in the privacy of the merchant caravan, but he'd calmed down considerably, enough that his face isn't so red anymore, so maybe everyone seeing him won't be as horrible as he thought.

Gamzee seems more than pleased anyway to be carrying him around-- he'd dare to say peppy even, and at least one of them is happier than the other about the predicament. The way he smiles about it is completely infectious to the point that Karkat can't really help himself either.

 

Safe to say that it's noticeable when the smile drops and Gamzee seems wary, Karkat soon picking up on the sound of another cart or caravan passing on the road. There's a stirring tenseness to his mate's hold, telling Karkat to keep his head down, just in case.

 

It's not exactly an ideal time for anyone to happen upon them, what with Karkat incapable, though their odds are somewhat more favorable than before the caverns; five combat-abled trolls, six if Karkat counts Zhen, eight if Karkat counts Zhen and the twins but he'd rather they didn't fight at all.

Karkat does as told, but he keeps his eyes out on the road, seeing a caravan come up. He can see enough that it's pulled along by two beasts and that the riders, as far as the two trolls sitting at the reins show anyway, wear cloaks. They regard their little camp just as much as they them, watchful as they move on.

He squints at the set of their respective horns, not exactly keeping his face hidden anymore, and it's as they begin to pass by that Karkat's eyes widen in his surprise the same time as the one not driving, pointing out an almost accusing finger, "Ah--!! You!!"

"-- You!!!!!!!! " The troll exclaims at the same time, pointing at him in the exact same way, pulling the hood off so fast the horn clasps simply come loose, revealing a grinning face he wasn't expecting to see so soon. A hand holsters on a cocked hip as they're looked over with an intrigued expression, "Well, wouldja fancy that. How's it been, shortstack?"

"Vriska!" Karkat is more surprised than anything (and maybe just a tad pleased to see a familiar face, only a pinch). The other troll on the cart has a wide rack of horns that Karkat knows by gut who it belongs to, "..and Tavros???" As he says it, the other hood comes off and one of the Nitram brothers sits there in all his dumb gorgeous Nitram glory, swiveling that wide rack to look their way. "What're you two doing out here??"

In usual, bold Vriska manner, she saunters right on forward like this isn't a camp of Indigobloods, Polypa and Xia and the pack troll aside, that could very well tear her good arm off, her legs, and then her head. "Getting spoiled by your boyfriend, I see-- sorry, mate."

From the caravan, Tavros hops down with a pat to the beasts that calms them from being restless, looking slightly in disbelief toward Karkat, "Is that Karkat?? Really?" The cloak doesn't even bother to hide his body, physique gained from long nights and several days herding and raising most manner of beasts; he still looks stupidly good but Karkat bets he's still got a head full of rocks, animals and his fairies can't believe he used to like that....... does still kind of like that, as far as skin deep beauty goes anyway.

Vriska rolls her eyes at Tavros as he makes his way toward the rest of them, "Yeah, I borrowed a couple of stockbeasts from him--"

"Stole," Tavros corrects.

"Same thing," Vriska huffs, setting a glare at Gamzee, "considering someone borrowed the beast off my cart." Though it's a short glare and she snorts for it anyway, "That and there was some heavy-lifting to be done, and Nitram here gladly volunteered--"

"I ain't volunteered for nothing, you're paying me for the beasts and labor costs. And you're supposed t'take me back home."

Up close, Tavros is almost as tall as Gamzee; but he's certainly thicker in sheer bulk, muscle made from hard work and lots of it. He still has that simple charm that makes a troll swoon but Karkat knows better, holding out when Tavros addresses him,

"Aw, heck, I'm real sorry Karkat. If I uhh..if I'd known we'd be seein' you I'd have brought you a gift. You're carryin', aren'tcha?"
That by itself makes him flush, that Tavros can tell.

Vriska certainly doesn't help, leaning in a little with her voice lowered but not by a lot, "Is that why we smelled 'breeder' and 'fuck' our way this way?? It seriously reeks like 'breeder' and 'fuck', like we picked it up a ways back up the road."

Karkat could die for all that the inside of his head is nothing but internal screaming and a smile is frozen plastered on his face, "No comment."

 

*

 

"You might be smelling me ." Xia saunters right up to Vriska, no longer clad in her shabby smock but in Zhen's flattering, high-cut dress.

"Or, did you forget about me? I know Bluebloods don't exactly have the best memory when it comes to lowbloods, given all the extremely important shit you all have to do." The Limeblood puts herself right between Karkat and Vriska, hands on her wide hips, lips and lashes denoting her blood hue.

 

Gamzee cackles.

"Don't gift my mate, stabletroll, or I'll take it as a challenge. Be a shame to have to up and rip your head right off. You're like one of those motherfuckers what come right outta my mate's filthy, heretical books." He offers up a smile, knowing that, despite all that muscle, he could break the beefy Bronzeblood in a second.

It takes away some of the charm of being broken -- he doesn't even sound like he'd be able to talk the same filth Karkat does.

Still sporting his Navyblood attire, Gamzee hefts his mate up, and saunters over to the main tent.

"Why don't you two motherfuckers make yourselves at home? We ain't living like barbarians out here, 'spite of what Her Imperial Bitchiness might want you to think." With that, Gamzee slinks into the main tent, rearranging his mate atop a plush pile of furs close to the fire.

Zhen's fanning it, keeping it alive with handfulls of grass or an extra log whenever it threatens to die down.

Outside, Xia clasps her hands together, chittering to herself.

"You don't just ask a breeder if they're carrying -- especially not Karkat. Anyway -- " The sound of sloshing water accompanies Polypa as she returns, pot clasped in her hands.
She levels both trolls with a suspicious gaze.

"These are...?" If she feels threatened by them, she gives none of it away -- aside from the obvious fact that she's almost hip-to-hip with the Limeblood.

"A dense Blueblood," Xia points to Vriska, "and a piece of ocular sweetness." She points to Tavros, her tone not conveying the lust the words imply.

"Zhen would be hissing at you over that." Polypa intones.

"Zhen hisses at everything." Xia retorts, getting a chuckle from Polypa.

"Hisses at her own fucking shadow, complete wriggler. Anyway," her tone reverts to that of a cold professional the moment she stops chatting with Xia, "play nice with Xia or she'll kick your globes in. Both of you." With a turn, Polypa leaves to deliver the pot of salt water into the merchant caravan.

 

*

 

Vriska hums, a touch scandalously, almost looking Xia up and down with her uncovered eye, "Lime girl cleans up nice," which isn't wrong at all, the Limeblood looks a lot better than last time Vriska saw her, less tired and a bit healthier too. "Oh trust me, you both might smell sweet as fangrot, but there is a difference. I almost wish I had my moirail right now, she'd be able to tell you all the little nuances and weird stuff she picks up on. But thanks soooo much for thinking about my schedule, makin' me think you care and all."

There's some tension there, and Karkat being Karkat would snicker into his hands if he wasn't all flustered.

Poor Tavros waves his hands-- fucking big damn hands --in front of him, trying to clear up from being misunderstood even as Gamzee walks away, "Oh nononono! I-I mean uh, I'd 'f brought a gift for you too, y'know being his mate and all, it'd be real rude of me if I didn't...," Tavros trails off a little dejectedly, Karkat feeling just a tiny, tiny surge of pity.

"Try not to be too mean at him," Karkat whispers as he's placed meticulously on a pile, "He's too oblivious to think his words through and you'll only feel worse than him for making him fret. Trust me." The look Tavros gets on his face takes all the joy of yelling at him, Karkat would know; pitiable as fuck.

Gamzee says to make themselves at home, though Tavros is caught between following them and waiting for Vriska-- only because he's a good-mannered troll who feels a bit like he's imposing.

Vriska on the other hand, continues whatever bickering game she's playing with the Limeblood, "There's a lot of things you shouldn't ask Karkat unless you want to see him steam up." Though she's not too keen on basically being called 'dumb' again by the Green breeder, letting out an indignant "Hey!"

Of course, understandably, no one can really stand next to Tavros, in that it only makes him look better and the other troll worse. Tavros looks for all that he's never heard anyone call him that his entire life, flushing amber the way he does as if more than half the village doesn't swoon and call him that behind his back, not that he knows.

Vriska smirks and snorts, regarding Polypa-- reminded of her favorite Olive if that there's a distinct lack of puns with her cold tone. "I'm always nice, aren't I Tav?"

"Definitely not."

"Nice enough, at least. C'mon, Tavros, the man invited us in, don't tell me you're gonna sit out here with the Lusii-- don't sit out here with the Lusii, they can handle the sun and you can't, let's go."

With her satchel slung over her shoulder and Tavros hurrying to tether their beasts, Vriska addresses Xia again, "I take it your pan-low clown is still kickin'? Resilient little gutsy thing, huh?" Starting with her to head in the tent like they weren't just throwing mild banter. Vriska places herself where she can see everyone and talk between Karkat and Xia, while Tavros comes in, looks embarrassed and awkward, awkwardly greeting everyone in the tent, and proceeds to awkwardly place himself where he isn't taking up so much space against the tent wall.

 

*

 

"Yep," Xia pushes a lock of uneven hair behind her ear, "and you have her to thank for my niceness. Zhen's a better screamstress than anything any village has to offer, and she's on par with anything a palace has to offer -- even one-handed." Xia does a little twirl, the slits of her dress riding dangerously high.

"She also handles the bleaching of my cosmetics since, you know, being a dead caste, I can't really go buy them. I wouldn't buy them, anyway. Stealing's much more entertaining."

Gamzee pulls his hair free, shaking out its fluff.

"I saw you give that motherfucker the once-over," he whispers, "and it is custom to take gifts from other castes as challenges. Ain't gonna change that just 'cause he looking like a troll straight outta one of your bodice-rippers ."

With all the shame he shows around any other troll, Gamzee grabs his Indigo clothes, and changes; he may not be as burly as Tavros, but he's ethereal and graceful, comfortable in his skin.

 

Leaving the fire for the moment, Zhen steps over to the Bronzeblood.

"Oi," she nudges him with a bare foot, "get your carapace off the canvas. A beast might rip open the side -- and gore you in the process. Besides, if your horns make a hole in the canvas, I'll chip them off for you." They're exact opposites; Tavros is all fleshy muscle, Zhen frail and doll-esque.

Tavros is all awkward politeness, and Zhen's about as blunt as they come.

 

When Marvus saunters into the tent, leaving Kurloz the only troll missing -- sans Chahut -- the twins squeal, launching themselves at Karkat.

Their little bodies topple atop the breeder, legs kicking as they chirp out apologies, and wrap their arms around the mutant. They bury their faces in his softness, Gamzee chuckling as he applies his greasepaint.

"Aw sheeeet," Marvus slurs, tipping an invisible cap, "welcome to the motherfuckin' festivities, brothers and sisters." If one troll has Tavros beaten in looks, it's Marvus -- but Marvus has every troll beaten in looks, so that's not really a surprise.

"Villi-bros of Phat Kat? Niiiice ." He takes Chitti off the top of his head, depositing the grub atop Karkat's chest, between his buds.

The grub immediately hunkers down, chirping.

"I'm assuming I need to feed you." Xia steps over to the fire, arranging an assortment of bowls and the like, while placing a pot of water atop the fire.

"Considering you can't even infer the obvious without your moirail snuffling the folds of Karkat's nook -- I bet they're a lower caste than you, but not too low. After all, you get so bent up whenever I say you're pan-deficient, but you haven't really given me evidence to the contrary." Xia snaps a few large greens into the pot, tosses in the carcass of the nut-beast from the prior night.

"Not that I care. If I were gunning for something pale, you'd be low on the list. Besides," she gestures, a rotund tuber in hand, to Polypa, "that's my ex-palemate right over there. I don't need more than her."

 

*

 

"Gonna have to disagree with you there, babe. Not that I doubt your clown, I'll hand it to her that doing anything one-handed is a fucking skill, but I know the best screamstress. Your little number is cute and all, but she's made pieces that puts royalty and aaaallll their hired hands to shame," though, Kanaya might say otherwise; the styling of Xia's dress isn't lost on Vriska, she knows where it's from and that Kanaya would kill, do anything to learn how to make the styles of the Eastern Continent.

Anything but get on a boat (as much as it pains Vriska that she can't take the Jadeblood sailing off with her, it's not as much pain as hers; she understands and won't push until Kanaya lets her have some give.

"At least you know what's up. The cosmeticentalists steal the skin off your back anyway, it's only fair to steal first, right?"

Meanwhile Tavros glances up-- without moving his head too much --at Zhen just to immediately go rigid with a stammered, "Y-Yes ma'am!!" and promptly scoot forward so that he's no longer touching the canvas of the tent, slightly hunching inward, "A-Also...a beast wouldn't be able to uhm, gore through the tent. I'd've already..asked it not to...," realizing that probably sounds really shithive without further context, Tavros is quick to add in, "I uhh...I've got beast psionics, s-so I can, y'know, talk to Lusii and things...they usually listen to me..."

 

All Karkat sees and hears is Tavros floundering in the metaphorical pool that is socializing, though he guesses it's more that he's unfamiliar with his current choices of being social with-- a.k.a., none of them are Lusii.

Putting his attention back on Gamzee, Karkat really thinks through his words; deciding ultimately to smile real smug and make a face at his mate, "So," he keeps to the whisper, "what you're sayin' is that you think he looks he came out of a bodice-ripper, huh?"

On some level, Gamzee has also fallen victim for that dumb simple charm the Nitram boys are famous for.

That conversation will have to wait, being that Marvus enters with the twins in tow-- both of whom make a beeline for Karkat who's trying his best to calm the slew of apologies and worried chirpings. Both try to burrow into his sides while Marvus relinquishes Chitti who promptly clutches itself to the middle of Karkat's chest, also trying to nuzzle into him.

He's absolutely melting on the inside and there's nothing he can do about it.

 

Vriska pipes up in her own greeting, "I'm not actually a village troll, just a frequent visitor and friend. Pleasure to be here!"

Tavros makes a muted greeting, still cowed by Zhen and all that her doll-like stature looms over him.

"Don't worry about feeding us," Vriska turns back to Xia, "And I don't need to infer nothing, when both of you are scenting out plain as the moons." She huffs and raises a brow, "I could argue that's the only reason you gotta be talking to me, thinking I'm pan-deficient. Fine. Continue on," Vriska sing-songs before childishly sticking her tongue out and making a face. "That kind of sounds like you weren't gunning for something pale. Aren't you the one saying you're mated to the big honcho man himself?" She says, making a face that's half smirking and half 'too bad', though it's a toss up of which one means more and what exactly.

 

*

 

"But what if I... control your insipid little brain... and make you ask a beast to kindly remove your organs from your steaming carcass?" Zhen stammers back, blinking innocently at Tavros before the act drops immediately.

"Don't make claims you can't back up, you village wheel. Get back to me when you corral a seagoat to shore." At least, with Tavros no longer sat against the canvas, Zhen's able to forget the fire and return to her embroidery.

The talk of her skills does not go unnoticed by her, but it's one of the few things she's above.

Xia giggles.

"Fuck off into the Sun, then. We don't need to feed or shelter you, big and strong highblood that you are, so go be an unattractive piece of dumb hoofbeast shit elsewhere." She minces a slab of beast meat, peels a few tubers, and mixes some precious milled flour into the minced meat to create balls of packed meat.

"Plezzy's all mine, fellow traveler. Got a juicy tip for you out on them roads, if you're plannin' to skeet-skeet your ass past the city." Marvus smiles his habitual, lazy smile.

"Turn back." He deadpans.

"Somebody sent out a SO-motherfuckin'-S, and thy will be motherfuckin' done." He reclines, arms behind his head, looking like a troll meant to be painted.

"Take the Eastern detour. Long, but worth it." His long legs cross loosely, foot bobbing.

"Though, can't make a biz-nitch listen. Jus' information from a clown to a spider." There's something in his smile, something knowing too much, but Marvus leaves it at that.

 

Xia continues work on the stew, straining out the large greens, tossing in the cut tubers and meat dumplings.

Gamzee sits next to his mate, smoothing hair back from his forehead.

"I'm saying I saw the look you gave him," he whispers back, "and that's a look meant only for me, mate of mine."

 

*

 

Tavros gives out another "Yes ma'am! " like he seriously intends to do what Zhen just said, really go and find a seagoat and get it up on the land ...Rufioh could probably do it, maybe; Karkat feels bad watching him get bullied, but what can he do with his legs out of working commission.

The way Vriska and Xia bicker and bite words though -- it's like watching village drama unfold. There's definitely something bubbling up there, and it'd be cute and something to tease either one about later (you know, if Xia didn't have a possible rampaging mate looking for her) (he's pretty sure it's fallen on him to keep Vriska and Tavros as alive as possible so he's going to do just that).

Karkat may have given Tavros a once-over-- he's still pretty to look at, it's not like Karkat doesn't have eyes, but that Gamzee says he's looking at him like something else has Karkat purse his lips with a small snort, hands on both the twins while they're more concerned with being buried into his sides, "I ain't looked at Tavros Nitram in any kind of way since I was six and I'm confounded that you think I would now."

Tavros was only pretty to look at and good to ask favor from, but as far as romance went it was a dead end.

Vriska raises a brow listening to Marvus; not that she wouldn't take his advice, just that the delivery is highly cryptic and it's bugging her usually trusted sense of intuition. She can hear her moirail already, talking with too much pep 'Duly noted and considered!'. "I won't doubt that you've got a particular reason for droppin' such advice on me." And neither does her gut instinct. Something's about to happen and it's likely that she and Tavros don't want to be there for it.

 

Deciding to throw Tavros the metaphorical lifeline, Karkat chitters for his attention, "I heard you were moving most of the Lusii to the sister village. How's mine?"

"Which...," Tavros is only confused for a moment, though it clicks that Karkat wouldn't ask him about Kanaya. "Oh! He's fine, hunkered right down in a pond as soon as we got there," Tavros visibly and audibly relaxes, talking about something else,

"Old thing must miss you a lot, he keeps hiding all the pupae in his shell. Miss Mardha had a right fit when she couldn't find her youngest, though it's not like he keeps them, they all crawl out eventually."

"Ah, her grubling pupated already?"

"Speaking of grublings," Vriska cuts in, making a gesture at Karkat, "I know damn well the last time I saw you was just a couple weeks ago and you weren't carrying then. How'd you get these bitty things?" Vriska is sort of indifferent to pupae and wrigglers, and grubs, children in general. Certainly won't admit that she likes the attention when she's crowded and asked to tell a story or what she's brought to sell this visit; it's more intense with the added numbers of the sister village.

"What's it to you?" Karkat sticks his tongue at her, more playful than biting, "Who says they aren't all mine?"

"Well well! Hey Tav, doesn't that remind you of one of your fairy stories? Which one, oh-- Pettar Pahahn! Didn't you call Karkat 'Whendi' on accident once? Didn't your breeder mom make you that little outfit you used to wear??"

Tavros proceeds to hide his ambering face while Vriska, and admittedly Karkat, snicker at his expense, "I was three!!"

 

*

 

The village-talk immediately has the tent's atsmophere dropping, Xia and Zhen both intent on their tasks; the twins twist away from Karkat and sit up, wholly ignoring the Blueblood.

Even Gamzee stays out of it, wishing he hadn't done his paint so quickly.

Xia makes a mixture of flour and water, and pours that int othe bubbling pot of stew, watching it thicken.

Zhen embroiders twice as quickly as she had before, pricking herself twice as much; she sucks off each droplet of blood before returning to the crimson fabric beneath her.

Gamzee gets to his feet, grabbing a tattered suncloak from a chest.

"I'm gonna go set up some other tents, see how Kurloz is doing. Make sure you eat, Karkat." With that, he shrugs the garment on and leaves the tent.

Karako follows, looking like a wriggler in his suncloak.

 

Marvus laughs despite himself -- although he doesn't give off the air that he cares.

"Clowns really do be the most disadvantaged caste -- and we can't even say nothin' in the motherfuckin' blessed air of our tents! Richer than a fish-face." He sits up, silky hair falling over his shoulders.

"Phat Kat, I know you new and I know you wanna make your homies feel all home-like, but you're makin' Bro-Gam look all types of shameful. GHB might just get it in his nugbone to rip the poor boy's head off -- and then what?" He offers a hand, long pianists' fingers contrasting Tavros' thick palms.

"We all perish." He flops back down, kicking his legs up.

"An-y-way," a bare foot bobs absently, "what I mean to say's that, due to oppression by The Empress and The Empire, Indigobloods only have Lusii in name, never in practise, and most face a painful death on the shores before any older Indigobloods come to test their mettle. Even then, their mettle might be too lil', and they fuckin' die. Bless Sister Cha-Cha and her bleedin' pusher, none of us'd be here without her. Village-talk's plezzy for you and your homies, but shit's a biz- nitch for us -- and, Tavvy," he sits up, slings a friendly arm over the nervous Bronzeblood, "don't feed into the stereotype of dumb Bronzebloods, my man." He pats the lowblood's chest.

"Don't look good on a motherfucker tryna make his life, you feel me?"

 

*

 

Karkat's face falls as his mate stands has Vriska in suspicion, eyeing Gamzee as he leaves the tent. Was...what, did he not like hearing about Karkat's life before being taken by finned princes and clowns? That seems kind of dumb. What kind of prick takes a mate and doesn't want to know all about them ~~?

That Karkat's expression worsens while Marvus throws out an explanation says more.

If they didn't want to hear about village life, why take a village troll?? Why take a troll as chatty and connective as Karkat? Don't even want to hear about his Lusus-- what, were they jealous? Bitter? It's beyond her knowledge, probably, but it doesn't seem to be doing any good for Karkat.

And Vriska's always hated seeing other pupae pick on Karkat in any way, even if he held his own pretty damn well. Maybe that's just Kanaya rubbing off on her after all these sweeps.

Vriska would scoff is she wasn't so good at the poker face game, keeping her own expression steady as she looks to Karkat, who hasn't said anything but look down at his lap-- this isn't the headstrong wriggler who says what he wants when he wants and how he feels, who's the happiest when someone's listening to whatever it is he has to say; it doesn't sit well with her, even if it's not really any of her business and when has Vriska Serket ever cared about butting into business that wasn't hers to butt into?.

She supposes it bothers her more that Karkat isn't saying or doing anything when the Karkat she knows would have by now.

 

At the very least it sounds like none of their respective Lusii didn't try and eat them, but no one has seen or heard her complain or be bitter about that.

 

It's Tavros who breaks the heavy feeling in the air first, seeming hardly bothered by Marvus putting an arm around him, "Well, I ain't dumb. I'm smart at some things and not so great with others, but it don't mean I'm dumb." He sighs like it's a common misconception; half the older folks at the sister village have told him he's dumb in some way, he's smart enough to know that.

There's some ease to the air, though not truly enough, Vriska only going lax enough as her attention goes to Karkat; she wants to ask him if he's alright has he been hurt? By his mate? Did she miss something the last time she saw them?, but perhaps those in the tent might take it the wrong way (says a lot they're all put out by village talk).

"...It's unlike you to be so quiet, shortstack. I've actually got some news for you, if you'd wanna listen." Vriska gets a look like she's real proud of herself, "Happened to get a couriaviate in my service--, well, not the couriaviate specifically, but her moirail is the delivercenary who is working for me. Anyway, would you believe it that they work by air? The couriaviate is a sky-eye , so she's up there most of the time," she points upward, though of course with daylight there it'd stand to reason that no one is up in the sky at this time, stars forbid.

With that said, Vriska gives Karkat a rundown of what this opens up for her businesses, a general idea of the wares she's dealing in-- being vague about the more risque stuff, being that there are pupae in earshot.

Karkat does take interest, not super openly, still feeling bad for getting too overexcited by talking with familiar faces, but he is interested in being able to buy things while on the road; the calling system supposedly works by way of flares being shot up into the sky to be visible to the courier.

 

*

 

The tents are set up outside, and Marvus goes eventually to join them.

Xia scoffs loud enough for everyone to hear, commanding attention.

"Shut up. I'm sick of hearing you talk about stupid shit we'll never be able to use. A flare? More clutter. More useless things to give away our position. Maybe it's better Karkat shut up every once in a while -- because you don't know shit, Blueblood. Be humble, fuck off, or try stealing the mutant back." Her eyes thin, and she stands, tone acidic at best.

The Limeblood gathers up some fresh berries and a pinch of sugar, piling it into a bowl while the soup simmers.

"I'm going to just assume being humble isn't in your DNA, so your other two options are...? That's right ." She deadpans, returning to the fire.

"Fucking off, or trying to take back the mutant who can't seem to think before opening his nutrient gash. Of course, we all know the latter won't happen. Highblooded mind-fuckery aside, I'd rip your head off and leave it on a pike somewhere. Maybe for your infamous moirail to sniff out." She grabs a knife and wields it with far too much dexterity, chopping the larger berries into bite-sized pieces.

"Karkat, learn your lesson. How many times has it been that village-fuckery's been brought up and it's gone over badly ? Not to mention, that debacle with Wanshi -- you can't even handle a simple culling of a wretched wriggler. I thought you were better than that." Every syllable from her lips drips disdain, even as she continues to prepare food for the lot of them.

"I think some very bad things are going to happen soon, and you're going to have to stop playing the village troll eventually." She mixes the berries and sugar, not mashing but merely coating them for a nice treat.

She flicks her knife free of berry juice.

"Don't you dare sink into a pout. What more do you want ? You want Indigobloods to stop being Indigobloods -- The Grand Highblood will cull Gamzee if he's weak."

"Won't cull Karkat, though." Zhen, continuing to embroider, sounds weak -- far away.

Xia stops for a moment, then giggles.

"I know. That's when I'll cull myself. A good knife should do it." She makes this comment like she would about the heat of the day, lifting the pot of stew off the fire.

"Food's done, if any of you have an appetite. Karkat, want me to bring you a portion? The berries are for later -- and I'll make preserves later."

 

*

 

"Oh well good fucking thing that I wasn't talking to you then, huh????" Vriska nearly hisses over her shoulder, "I thought you had finished wasting your time on me, since I'm too dumb a Blueblood to speak to. Yeah, alright, I don't know jack shit about you and yours, and neither do you about me, or about Karkat for that matter. And if that 's your logic then that sounds like a you -problem, and you can fuck right off with that."

Karkat reaches out carefully, a hand on her arm to get her to stop; he isn't pouting, expression neutrally dead, though almost breaking when Vriska shrugs him off.

"And you. Is there a reason you ain't done anything to her yet? Does she matter that much to you already? You've bloodied higher castes over less important things, so that has to be it."

"Vriska..," Karkat tries again, "..it's enough, please..," If he could walk right he'd be out of the tent already-- sun or not --to find somewhere to scream; scream until he's sick and puking, or burning, whichever comes first even being uncaring whether anyone would stop him.

He could laugh at himself, he's already lied to Gamzee without knowing it. Gamzee had asked if he made Karkat think about dying, or even plan out dying. He'd said no, thinking Gamzee meant in the same way Ampora had; he's definitely thought about it more than once, after the thing with Kanaya and at the caverns. This time it's not because of Gamzee, but it's the same isn't it?

"...sorry, Xia. If that's alright...," he'd scoot himself off the pile and get it himself, but Karkat's willing to bet that's something else for everyone to get upset at. He ushers the twins up to go eat and figures he'll feed Chitti most of his meal; Karkat's not sure if he has much of an appetite to appease.

 

*

 

"It's no problem." Xia stands, ladles out a portion of stew, and brings it to Karkat with all the calm of the eye of a particularly vicious storm.

Then, once she's handed the bowl off to Karkat with a smile, the Limeblood backhands Vriska as hard as she can -- and she can feel her wrist strain, the back of her hand immediately flaring in pain.

That's nothing compared to the way Xia puffs up, giving Indigobloods a run for their money in her sudden rage.

"You will mind your motherfucking business. " She speaks like an Elder beyond her years, like someone commanding a troll take the knee; she stands like it, looks like it, and though the back of her hand is already growing green and a few layers of skin have peeled off, she's staring Vriska directly head-on.

Challenging her.

Polypa gets to her feet but a quick, harsh hiss has the Oliveblood stopping.

Even Zhen's watching, wide-eyed, pins clasped between her lips.

"I dare you to hit me. " Xia holds her head high.

"Hit me for all the perceived wrongs you suppose I've done. Go on. You're a tough, no-nonsense Blueblood from a tough, no-nonsense village -- and if Karkat should be striking me, then you should be holding my eyes open to the fucking Sun. Go on. Do it. Make me pay." The words send a shiver through the Indigobloods in the tent, and Karako peeks his head in, quickly scrambling when he sees Xia's face.

Her sclera aren't reddening, they're becoming white; wisps of her hair are floating and there's a subtle crackle of energy around her.

 

*

 

For a moment, Karkat thinks everything will just calm down and that they'll leave each other alone after that. It would have been best, since it seems like none of them are seeing eye to eye.

Xia slaps and it sounds hard , enough that Karkat can feel it see the cobalt welt beginning on Vriska's face.

Vriska is up and snarling in an instant, and Karkat thinks she's going to strike her, even with the tense energy in the air, Xia dangerously shifting.

"I don't fucking hit fucking breeders ," the Blueblood seethes, suddenly emitting all the threat that Karkat's always known she could but he's never had to see for himself.

He knows what she's doing without having to look, can feel it when Polypa nearly drops and then straightens, trance-like and blank-faced; Tavros shudders and grabs at his head, though none of the Indigos in the tent are being affected-- because Vriska doesn't use what she can't control, what she doesn't know for sure won't work and Polypa is absolutely in her web of range, in all contexts.

Not that Vriska hasn't tried on other Indigos when she's gotten the chance-- they attacked her cart first so it was all fair game and turns out she can go higher than Navy.

 

Karkat watches in dawning horror, Polypa raising something blunt in her hand, Zhen about to stand, either to stop the Olive or Vriska, he can't tell. His chest is so tight it's hard to breathe, and he feels dizzy enough to be sick right there-- no, he's going to be sick, bile rising hot in his throat, burning his body up. The air is heavy and somehow Karkat knows if this goes on, they really will all die.

No.

 

No.
.
.
.
Ǹ̴͜ ͘͢͡O̢̢͘

 

Something happens, amidst all this horrifying tension. It resonates clearly in his head before moving far back.

 

 

Grab the threads

 

 

It's like some random gut reaction, an instantaneous instinct he can't help, can't hold back.

In the moment, Karkat is breathless, a mental hand closing around strings in his mind, his physical fist grasping and tightening on things that aren't there, and he pulls.

Everyone in the tent, sitting or standing, it matters not, they are all collapsed to the ground.

This...whatever this is, it's the same feeling he gets whenever he's yelling at someone real good.

Vrisk and Xia are both laid flat, panting, and Karkat even has the blue thread that crosses between the Cerulean and Polypa. Even Zhen, pins scattered on the floor, the twins, and even Chitti, crawled into the back of Karkat's dress and shivering.

 

No one is exempt.

 

There is no discrimination.

 

As far as the range of the tent, anyway.

 

It's a long, long, moment before anything happens, until Karkat takes a longer, slower drag of breath, steam seeming to come out on his exhale.

".....I said enough , didn't I? "

His voice booms in the tent despite his quiet tone, the air feeling still; eyes wide and his red seeming to glower.

"....You're such a hypocrite, Xia," he says, as soft as if he was cooing over Chitti or the twins. "Brought your palemate with us-- ex, as you like to say -- but I bet if you were with your own mate and troupe you wouldn't even have the globes, would you?" He can feel her struggle through the thread-- can feel everyone, even outside of the tent, but especially the immediate area.

"Then again, I suppose you wouldn't have needed her if you were. And what then, when we take you back? You'll just dump her off somewhere? Cut her off again?" Because Karkat won't believe she'd let Polypa die because of her mate's whims. "It ​must be so easy for you."

That criking noise ticks in his throat, growing louder and thicker, as he looks down at her, grip tightening and keeping Xia and everyone else held to the floor. He can feel Vriska and what might be Zhen trying to seep into his head. They're rejected, them and whoever else tries; they don't have that permission.

"...I'm not like you, it doesn't work like that for me. But what would you understand about that?"

 

*

 

She cuts it all off.

Everything.

It's all gone -- every string, every connection -- and she's never been colder, older, felt less than the sum of her components.

Karkat is an eternity away and The Dark Carnival won't take her for her blood -- The Grand Highblood won't take her for her blood -- but no one will puppet her. These terms are hers and if the suffering must alone be hers, then she'll endure it.

Once, she had thought of birthing Limeblooded grubs; to find a place for them, return them to The Empire.

Once.

Those are all just fantasies, however; wisps of happiness which slip through her fingers, linger in the corners of her vision before disappearing from view.

The Limeblood is deaf and dumb and mute, her head empty; her blank eyes stream with unending, emotionless tears which track into her hairline -- and she could move, but there isn't anything to move toward.

The past?

She sees nothing but a bitterness denied to her.

The future?

There isn't room for her.

She could be a corpse for all the responsiveness shown; for all the input and output occurring within.

Even a corpse will decay, though.

 

Zhen, Polypa -- everyone -- feels something sever , cut at the root, whipped away and pulled inward.

The small Indigoblood, pins puncturing her lips and cheeks and tongue, opens her heavy eyelids and stares at Karkat.

He did this.

When she parts her lips, blood drips slowly down her lips, pooling atop the furs beneath her head.

Her breath is a rasping wheeze.

 

*

 

Karkat feels that-- it most certainly is a severing and he's never known anything like it, that kind of disconnection . It's shocking and horrifying, to feel Xia do that , so much that he recoils and his grip releases on everything he'd been holding onto.
What....even more than before, it's hard to take a breath in. Letting go, everyone else at least gives a stir, a motion of moving, of being alive, being connected to this world; Xia does not. She barely breathes.

He's done something-- he's done something and he felt it, there's no way he didn't-- what has he done ? What did he even do!?

Karkat just wanted them all to stop

He was so angry at Xia, he wanted her to stop the most, but not this much.

The strings are gone, the ones in his hands-- but Xia's had retracted , disavowed, a complete and utter rescinding, and now--

She's as still as death. Karkat's never felt so hollow just to look at someone.

The world inside the tent upends and Karkat goes numb.

 

Vriska gasps, able to take a proper breath.

Had Karkat always been able to do that? No, he'd never done anything, or even had anything to show that he had any kind of ability like that. For her, it's beyond her understanding and scary as fuck. And she knows it was Karkat, because she felt it and he wouldn't let her inside.

Weak and trembling-- it felt as if her very soul had been pinned to the ground, no one has ever done such a thing to her --Vriska tries to push herself back up, body heavier than it should be.

They need to get out, and she will drag Tavros if she has to; after checking Karkat over.

 

*

 

"Stay down." Zhen growls, primal and hurting, hauling herself up and hissing, hating.

She heedlessly pulls the pins from her mouth, spitting blood -- onto the bright, bleached fabric she was just embroidering.

If Zhen never has to bear witness to such a colour again, it'll be too soon.

Her wide, watery gaze doesn't stray from Karkat as the other Indigobloods enter into the tent.

They step over Xia's form, her lack of presence so acute; Polypa rises to her feet and takes a discarded suncloak, tossing Zhen another, and leaving a third atop Xia.

The twins, when they can, begin to cry -- earnest, frightened wailing; Chitti huffs and puffs and Gamzee's first to take the grub off his mate, noting how it tries to hide behind him. Like Karkat's something to fear.

Barzum and Baizli, too, in their squalling, scramble behind Kurloz, and grip his legs, their own wobbly and weak.

Polypa, although clumsy and pan-fried, begins to wrap Xia in her cloak. Like a cocoon. Zhen's got everything she needs on her back -- that is to say, nothing -- and helps with the process, recovering quicker than the Oliveblood.

 

"What hap -- " Gamzee's cut off by Zhen, who ties knots with her hand and teeth rather than pinning fabric.

"We're leaving. Don't follow us. Don't talk to us. We're not wanted here, and we don't want to be here." She's forcing herself to be sharp and concise when her pan is a mess, but Gamzee can feel something... wrong.

Something is very wrong.

With Chitti now clinging to his back, almost entirely hidden from view, Gamzee turns back to his mate, and gingerly places a hand to his shoulder.

"Karkat, I need you to lie down." He's choosing his words carefully, allowing Polypa and Zhen to drag Xia out into the daytime -- because he doesn't want them here.

He doesn't want the Blueblood or the Bronzeblood here, either.

Hopefully, they plan to take their suncloaks and leave, too.

 

*

 

The three of them leave, rightfully upset, and Karkat can't even say anything-- he has nothing that allows him to. No right, no connection, no nothing. Can't even do anything for Vriska who's still picking herself back together.

 

She couldn't even move her fake arm, and that thing's always been pretty reliable in a pinch. Tavros isn't any better, his bulked frame shaking and shaken even when Vriska played mind tricks, it was never anything like that-- whether it was because she was stopped before anything could escalate or because she had a sudden fit of a conscience.

"T-- shit , Tav...!" Vriska can barely get her voice to work, and it's a wonder that Tavros gets himself functional enough to meet her gaze, and hopefully she doesn't have to puppet him; she doesn't think she can , right now. "Gg...get your shit, we nneed to go."

She has to force herself to look at Karkat-- this kid who she's known since he had a passivity sucker in his chatty loudmouth, who'd wail on someone only if they deserved it, who'd come cry to Kanaya if he couldn't --body tense and shaking; can feel her octadic eye going fuck all under her eyepatch.

"....Karkat...I don't......I don't know ... what you did, but that shit was mad-fucked, kid," it's what she can get out before her throat closes up on her words, fist clenching and unclenching, shuddering as she stands and shakily fixes her hood on, Tavros following her unsteady gait out of the tent. They'll stay in their caravan and then head out with the dusk.

If not Kanaya, she'll likely tell Damara what happened.

 

Karkat barely indicates that he's heard anything, either Vriska or Gamzee, until he's being told to lay back-- he doesn't, shaking his head oddly as his hands now grip into the furs under him. He can't, he feels so numb, he can't Xia's getting too far, he can't leave things like that.

 

*

 

"Karkat, lie down." Gamzee places his palm to the centre of his mate's chest and uses just enough force to get him on his back.

"Whatever happened," he leans in, whispering, "you need to let them go. I'll take care of everything else."

With the twins wailing, refusing to get close to Karkat, and even Chitti putting up a fit whenever it gets too close to Karkat's scent, there's a lot to deal with.

Mainly, everyone needs to be fed and laid down to sleep -- although Karako is glad to go back out, and sit watch with Chahut's cocoon.

The twins stick by either Kurloz or Gamzee, and Chitti's little legs dig into the back of Gamzee's neck.

He feeds the little thing a few pieces of sugared berry, before the grub unceremoniously scuttles beneath his shirt -- and that is a distinctly odd feeling, but one to which he quickly acclimates.

 

The mass of black and red fabric is moved aside carelessly by Kurloz, who can tell they won't be needing it.

Marvus takes the place of Xia, handing out bowls of stew, followed by a portion of sugared berries. Karkat gets a double portion of the berries, although Gamzee's eyeing him constantly, wary -- wondering if he should cut his losses before The Grand Highblood cuts him, if he should tear open his own throat and bleed out to save his soul.

After all, there is still Kurloz.

There will be another.

 

He tries not to dwell on the thoughts too much, but, pawning Chitti off onto Marvus so he can settle down beside his mate, neither does Gamzee sleep.

"You get some sleep, okay?" He's shared very few words with Karkat, all careful, and these are no different.

"Everyone's alright." That's a lie; the twins huddle together across the tent, and even Marvus doesn't feel like speaking, preferring instead to pray quietly to himself.

 

*

 

He has to be pushed down to lay, but it hardly does anything. Everything is still horrid and things could not be any worse (and they have been in worse conditions, this shouldn't be so big a deal as it is but it is ). The inside of the tent is so tense it's nearly suffocating and nothing can dissuade him from the case.

Neither the twins nor Chitti can stand to be anywhere near him, don't want to be anywhere near him and Karkat wouldn't either; Karkat wouldn't want to be any kind of near himself, he'd rip and escape his own skin if he could how could he not want to? This body has always been disgustingly useless, what a shitty useless thing. He's done something awful inside of it and he can feel it, how it shows, how he's stained .

Eating is a quiet affair, and why would anyone have a reason to talk? No one really wants to break the silence, and anyone Karkat would talk to have already left-- not that they'd want to talk to him at all.

He picks at what he's given-- this isn't anything that can be helped by sugar alone --and only puts enough into his mouth to satisfy Gamzee. Karkat has no appetite, and if his body does then it's completely ignored. He can't feel the hunger anyway.
Gamzee tries to reassure him, lie to him-- because they both know it's a lie, that everything and everyone is fine; it's not fine.

If not just Karkat, then the entire tent is sleepless and Karkat is denied the mercy of being put out of his body or even drawn into his own mind as he had been recently. Dusk comes far too quick, and Karkat shifts himself off the pile, legs unsteady and uncooperative, trying to go before he can be stopped, by his legs or his mate or anyone else. He picks up the forgotten pile of fabric, stray pins sticking into his skin as he balls it up to take, ambling to the stream.

 

*

 

Gamzee makes no show of hiding that he's following Karkat.

Kurloz's gaze is on them when they leave the tent, his painted features meticulous, but he doesn't say a word or hardly breathe.

Neither does Gamzee on the walk to the stream -- he'd glad it's only the stream, and not somewhere dangerous. These lands are rather safe but there are still larger beasts, some rocky outcroppings; occasional reminders of danger.

"What're you gonna do with that?" He asks, indicating the ball of sun-bleached, partially embroidered fabric.

"Looks like it was gonna be awful nice, but there ain't nothing we can do 'bout it, now." There's nothing they should do about it -- because The Grand Highblood is getting the shell of his mate back, and Gamzee knows something is going to go horribly wrong when that happens.

 

Zhen and Polypa must be gone by now; when he feels out the area with careful fingers, he can't find them.

He supposes, despite her height, Xia's rather light -- and useless corpses are even lighter to carry than the bodies that cling and shift around.

 

He eyes the stream, then back to Karkat.

There's some dried Purple on the fabric -- is he here to wash that off? Not that Gamzee knows anything about getting blood from clothing. He, actually, prefers the opposite.

"I shouldn't have let 'em into the group," he starts, a distance away from his mate, "I'll take responsibility when it comes to me." Namely, The Grand Highblood -- but his mate, too, and his mate's village, as well.

He doesn't say as much, or even imply it; he doesn't want to end up pan-dead like Xia, or wailing like the twins.

 

*

 

Truthfully, Karkat doesn't know why he grabbed it or what he wants to do with it either. He'd picked it up because...because of some stupid reason that no one cares about, and he's not going to waste further thought on it because he didn't want it to be overlooked, because it's someone's work that they put time into and it's a stupid, stupid reason because like Zhen even cares about it or anything to do with him anymore-- she hates him and he felt it and that's all there is to say.

"...I don't know..," Karkat says at last, quiet, "I don't know, I don't know....," his voice breaks, and isn't that just shitty of him? Karkat Vantas is just a shit of a troll whose blood isn't even viable, and now after solely causing something probably horribly irreversible to someone, he has the audacity to cry? To feel bad?

 

How disgusting. What a wretched vile thing he is.

 

Wanting to cry like he has a right to, like he has a right to anyone's sympathy for it. Karkat Vantas is a village-spoiled and coddled leech like everyone says and thinks he is and he doesn't deserve shit.

Listening to Gamzee irritates him for some reason, Karkat making a quiet, dry chuckle, the Indigo thinking that the responsibility of that is something for him to take care of; he's not the one who got attached like an idiot who's used to getting attached to others, nor is he the one who retaliated-- Xia struck first and Karkat hit back in place of Vriska because he's so bloody tired of everyone he's ever cared about or known being threatened with death simply for knowing him or having anything to do with him.

Listening to Gamzee makes Karkat want to bang his head against something hard until his own pan leaks out.

Somehow he's ended up doing that, but with his arm, slamming his fist down again and again until the bone and flesh is jarred and for a moment he doesn't feel so numb, making a repetition of ' I don't know '.

 

*

 

Apparently, opening his mouth was the wrong thing, so he doesn't make the same mistake twice.

Gamzee just takes Karkat's arm, stopping him from hurting himself.

Then, with his mate, he sits. It's dusk and just a bit warm from the day, so he sits until he figures he should get up.

Unlike Karkat, who already has mounds of things he's attached himself to, Gamzee doesn't care about the wad of fabric in his arms. It's half-finished, and will likely never be finished.

He would tell his mate that Zhen failed , that it probably would've been better if Xia had simply died and Zhen along with her, but what good would that do for Karkat?

"If you don't know what to do with it now," he starts, a guiding hand on the small of Karkat's back, "let's go put it with all your other stuff in the merchant 'van, yeah?" At least Chahut, again, won't know of this.

 

*

 

Karkat only fights Gamzee for moments before whatever drive to both hurt himself and resist runs out, faster than he'd like to admit. He can only feel his arm in fleeting moments of pain before the numbness comes back, an added irritation; whatever, it'll heal back soon anyway, and then he'll just do it again.

He's made to sit, Gamzee taking his hands so Karkat can't do much if he had the want to, gone quiet despite the lingering feeling. It's a while, that they're there, just sitting and breathing. For Karkat, he doesn't so much as relax as allow that numbness to cling and stay, seep back all the way into his veins until the only reason he knows for sure Gamzee is there is because he can see him.

Standing, his mate's hand is on his back, urging him forward, to head back to the caravans. Says they can put the fabric in his arms in the merchant caravan, which Karkat nods to, even if it's just a waste-- what does Karkat think he can do with it? Finish the embroidery? Finish the piece at all?

Stupid, like he can do anything besides hurt himself and others around him.

"....You're wary of me...," Karkat murmurs, not bothering to look at Gamzee, doesn't want to see what's in his face. He can't feel his own body, but he can feel that.

 

*

 

"Yes." There's no point in denying it, is there? It's not really a question, anyway.

 

"I need to leave." He doesn't say this until they're back at the caravan, which is already breaking down; where they have more able-bodied trolls to handle Karkat.

"I'll meet my ancestor, handle everything. It'll be quicker on foot, and, 'sides, I don't want anyone else with me." He'd been excited to show off his mate to his ancestor, almost certain of obtaining approval -- but now he just doesn't want Karkat to see his own head wrenched off his body, his soul rejected by The Dark Carnival.

While the rest pack up, Gamzee gathers a small bag of items; his weapons, a suncloak, a change of clothing, and a few pots of greasepaint.

A chaste, dry kiss is all Karkat gets before Gamzee leaves, disappearing into the foliage.

 

Kurloz keeps an efficient pace, getting the twins and the grub into the middle van, which he assigns to Marvus.

Karako takes the last caravan.

In the first caravan, Kurloz takes Karkat's wrists and binds them tightly with rough-spun rope, securing him to a post.

He has half a mind to stick Karkat in the trunk space, but ultimately decides against it, briefly patting the mutant atop the head.

"You've got a parasite in there, Karkat. I'll take care of it at dawn. It's very persistent, trying to stick in your mind. Perhaps that's why the Limeblood chose death? I wouldn't know." He saunters to the front of the caravan, and they're off, quicker than the usual pace Chahut or Gamzee would keep.

At the very least, in the opposite corner of the caravan, Chahut's cocoon is still intact, and still clean.

 

*

 

It doesn't sting as much as Karkat thought it would, Gamzee's answer. Whether that's due to whatever is making him feel so blunted to everything or not is a question he can't answer.

And in his head he laughs , laughs because isn't it a little funny? That his mate is wary of him for once?

 

It's a surprise to hear him say he needs to leave, to handle his ancestor-- and shouldn't Karkat come with him? Wasn't this Karkat's fault? Even if it means Karkat dies, shouldn't he follow--

A dawning thought interrupts his confusion, and it's that which has him whip his head to Gamzee; there is prior experience to say that when Gamzee leaves him alone, doesn't want or mean for Karkat to follow, it's because he means to die .

Karkat doesn't get much of a chance to say anything, anything that could dissuade him before he's already packed and gone, left him with a kiss and a shard of dread wedging through the numbness.

 

Kurloz, unfortunately-- still deserving of kicks to his shins and maybe his face with this shit now --, takes the matter of Karkat into his hands, being so bold as to tie his hands to one of the posts in the merchant caravan. Of course Karkat struggles, is left even more confused and irate after Kurloz leaves to the front to drive, the van taking off with a lurch, moving much faster than the pace they usually drive at.

The fuck did he mean parasite ?

As if Karkat has any intention of allowing Kurloz in his head.

He has to go after Gamzee.

 

Hissing just for spite, Karkat scrambles to think, looking around the caravan for something . His bag is the only thing close to him, but with how he's tied to the post he'd have to slump a little to drag it over with his foot, his lower half luckily left untied.

Though that doesn't exactly work out either, since he can't even get the knife Gamzee gave him.

That really leaves one thing. He should be able to do it, one of his hands is already broken a little and as long as he doesn't stress it more than that, it'll probably be fine. He can heal.

Karkat barely feels it when his bones scream only for a moment before numb takes it over again-- he can feel that it's wrong but at least it's something. On the literal one hand, he can grab the knife now, wincing only a little as things brush against the appendage, as it moves, working free his other hand until he's cut loose. There's still a lot of night left, but he doesn't want to waste time, dumping out his bag once and for all to take only what was necessary; the knife, his own suncloak, some fruits that were left in the merchant van, his sign . The things he'd gotten to make something for Xia...even though it's little more than useless right now.

That old tome with his sign on it. Gamzee's made a point of telling him he should read it, he should find out why.

The picture of an adult troll with Kanaya's sign...he'd wanted to ask Zhen, but..

Well, if anyone could give answers about signs, if not his stars then it'd be someone as ancient as The Grand Highblood.

His choices of leaving is either the door that let out to the road beneath them, where Karkat wouldn't be seen supposedly but would definitely get hurt, maybe killed. Or the side door that let up into the van, he'd probably be seen and maybe caught, and probably still has just as much probability of getting hurt or dying.

Well. He'll take his chances with that over Kurloz.

 

Karkat makes sure he's ready, bag secured and braced before opening the door, picks the moment his gut tells him to launch into the foliage. Forcing himself to get his bearings before hobbling off through the sparse, scattered trees.

Notes:

we had played around a lot with this section of stuff. more of everything going wrong all at once. careful crafting and re-working replies into something passable, because things turned out this way and we stuck through with it. had to commit.

there's only a little bit of this chat left, i'd say 90% of it is posted. when I get to the rest, that's going to be it. an incomplete world.

I'm dreading it, honestly. it's one chat down and seven more to post with, and that's one-eighth of lost hope. I'm really, truly dreading it.

Chapter 37: Misery Indeed Loves Company

Notes:

it was in these parts that we ended up coining together the term 'bone daddy' for kurloz, and in all our ooc from this point we stuck with it for all three, joking around with each other. greater bone daddy, grand bone daddy, in our other chats we even graduated to using bone town and bone zone. even called kurloz 'freakman freakman yeah that's u', bc man really was tryna freak, had a whole 'ignore me but also pay attention to me :o)' complex for karkat.

it was fun, with you.

That little 'parasite', the horrorterror, is such a good way of keeping tabs on Karkat.

Not that Kurloz flings himself from the caravan the moment the troll does the same -- not that he feels even the smallest shred of worry or pity for such a pathetic little thing -- but he does motion to pull over, embed themselves in the foliage.

The night is young, Karako confused, the twins distressed; Kurloz leaves all of that to Marvus, packing two suncloaks and a few ripe, round fruits before heading off.

Admittedly, Karkat's gotten far, by the horrorterror in his head likes to tug him over bramble just to get back to its host.

Not like Kurloz would ever let it seep back into Karkat's mind.

 

When he's close enough that he can all but smell Karkat's scent, clinging to every tree trunk and branch he'd touched, he glances around.

"Karkat." His voice is low; Gamzee's voice without the warmth. The substance. The capriciousness which seems to dictate his every decision, from fucking Karkat silly in an alleyway to just silently sitting with him.

"I'll find you, no matter where you go or hide, so you should just come out." His gaze flickers to a scattering of bushes, where he feels the horrorterror trying to pull him.

"You've made my brother soft. He needs to pay for his softness, Karkat." Finally, some semblance of warmth drips into his voice -- albeit, it's a drop in the bucket.

"I don't want him to perish, either, but what do you expect to do? Are you going to beg The Grand Highblood for mercy? That'll just make your mate look more pathetic -- and it puts your head on the line. It isn't as if The Grand Highblood isn't going to take note of who destroyed his own mate." He sighs silently, contemplating for a moment.

"You don't even know where he is."

 

*

 

Karkat's landing was...less than exceptional; he may have sprained an ankle, he's not totally sure yet but the fact that there's a weird twinge as he runs through brambles and brush says there's another something wrong .

He can't stop to look at it though, if he stops right there he might as well be a sitting waterfowl, making his body move and move fast . If no one's seen him, Karkat's sure he could get pretty far, even if he's heard the caravans roll to a stop.

He feels like he gets pretty far for a troll recovering full use of their legs and with a sprain; Karkat doesn't need anyone to watch restrain him, he can manage just fine on his own-- he did it once and managed for a lazy three days and nights, he's sure he can do more than that if he tried, even if not at full functionality.

 

It cannot fathom it's host escaping, not without it at least, seeking out the troll and having no choice but to lead Kurloz along. Snarling at him from within while being driven down to hide in an uncomfortable crack, barely even a niche, barely keeping Kurloz at the metaphorical arm's length (still has the gall to use the shape of Karkat's body in it's vanity).

Aw, ̡that poor̢ t̛hi͡ņģ.̢ ̛He ̶mus̀t̴ ҉hav̶e̸ ŗea͘ll̶y ̶n̷ơt҉ wa͘nted̀ ţo ̨şp̷e͟n҉d̨ the̴ da͟ý w͢i̵th̢ ͘y̵ou̵. I̴ w͟o͜ul̛d̨n'̵t͠ .͡

Taunting and teasing are the most it's able to do, that and home in on Karkat, leading Kurloz to it's host. Reaching out until it's shoved back only to do it again. Sidling up in Kurloz's mind in the equivalent of wrapping it's arms around his shoulders.

Y̸oư'r̛e͜ ̶cha͡si͟n͟g͟ ҉h̕i͏m̸ ̕for ҉mór̀e tḩan ͠going̕ ̷th͡ròugh h͠i͜s ̀he͞a͜d ͘thòugh, ̸a͠re̸n'ţ ̛yòu?̸ Y̶ou ̶ **̷w͏ant̢ ͠ ͠ ͞ ͡ him to̶o̧ .

It's only so bold to throw such words in another attempt to escape, stretching itself out just to be reined back in, laughing loud and bitter in Kurloz's head as it sinks back into that too small crack where even he can barely reach it.

I̧'́l̵l̀ ͢e̡v̕e͘n̛t̵u͞a̷l̢l͢y͏ ̴e͟s̨c͟àp̕e͘ ̛y̸o͝u̴,̷ ͠y̨o̢u҉ ̸k҉n҉òẃ.̧ ̨H͠ís͡ ̨m̧i̕n͏d̷ ̶ís͠ ̷j͢u̵s̕t̡ ş̕͜͜o̸̴̡͏ ̸̀͝͞l̷̨̡̀o͟҉̧͏v̴̕͟͟e̸̷͘͝l̡͢҉̢y͏͘͢͡, I͘ ̷c҉óu̵l͞d̴ ͏f͝e̶e͡d̢ ҉f̕o͠r̶e̢v͝e͡r҉,͞ ̴i̶f͝ ̵I̛ ̀m̨a̧k̢e̕ ̸h͢i͞m̢ ͜l̵a͡s͞t͘ ͜l͘o҉n͡g̛ ͟e͝n͘o͠u̸g҉h́.͜ ͏I̸'̸l͢l͢ ͟c͞r͜a̕ẃl̕ ̢r͠i̴g̴h̸t̷ ̶b̡a͠c͢k͟ ̵i͠n͠ ͝a͡n͝d͜ ͏k̴e̛e̕ṕ ̧t̵h͟e͞ ͝p͝r̵o̧m̡i͟s͞e͞ ͜I̴ ̵m͡a̧d̀e͟ ̕t̵o͢ ̀h̨ím͞, e̴̢͢͡a̷̵͡͠ţ̨͏̀ ̵̨͝͝a̴̴̢̛t̵̷̢̛ ̧̛̕͜h̶̴̶͡i̶̴̷̧m̶͏̨͠ ̨́̕͢f̧̨͝͠r̸̸̴̀o͠͏͠͠m̧҉҉҉ ̢̡̨͠t̕͘͠҉h̢̕͢҉e̸͢͡͠ ̡̕͞͠i̧͝͝͡n̴̸̶͜s̀́̕͠ì̸̧́d̀͢͡͝è̶̛͞ ̸̷̡̀ớ͜͠u̶̕͡͝t̷̨̛͝.̵̴͟͜

Cackling, it twangs on a black tendril of thread with glee, winding it in as they close in on it's host.

 

Karkat feels Kurloz before he hears him, taking refuge amongst the brush of leaves and hiding; scowling that he couldn't have gotten further and that the Indigo was this quick.

He tries to think of it like a game of conceal-and-pursue, except for the part where it's not going to any fun at all if he's found. It's probably easy to find him because of his damned sugar scent, it's not like Karkat can't smell himself; wonders if the scent comes from his blood specifically or from somewhere else-- it gives him a half-formed idea which is quickly rejected-- he is not going to stick his hand in his nook now of all times to rub slurry on stuff just to misdirect the other, nor is he going to leave his panties behind; the very thought of Kurloz holding his imagined discarded underwear just makes him tinge red shudder.

Blood it is, then.

Listening to Kurloz irritates him more than Gamzee had earlier-- and Gamzee can't seriously mean to die, and leave Karkat with him?? He said that last time at Eridan's city, and he's got another thing coming if he thinks Karkat's too dumb not to figure it out and just be alright with it.

So what if Gamzee's soft? There's nothing wrong with that, not to him. And why should Gamzee pay for something that Karkat did?

He's not going back without him.

Karkat looks around his hiding spot, picking a decently sized rock, about as big as his palm, good for throwing. Trying to sense out about where Kurloz is as he weighs the rock in his hand, nicking himself enough to smear blood over it before chucking as hard as he can. It lands in a thicket and crackles whatever brittle branches it's hit, Karkat hoping that it's enough for a glance of distraction, taking off and booking it on his sprained leg through some trees.

 

*

 

At least bending the knee to Gamzee for most of his life has left others to think him soft.

There's no contest, not between him and a horrorterror, and especially not between him and an injured, carrying mutant trying desperately to find trolls who specifically don't want to be found.

 

Kurloz bounds through the foliage on long legs, slipping past trees like a shadow; his hand encircles Karkat's bicep like a claw and then he yanks the mutant backward, stopping all of their forward momentum with his heels.

"Good effort." He smiles, eyes thin, wondering if Karkat will try to hit him.

Karkat tried to hit Gamzee and he ought to be hit back seven times over for the mere attempt but Gamzee would know and Kurloz cannot discern if his blood-brother is anywhere nearby.
Pathetic.

"Now, tell me how you're going to find my blood-brother." He turns Karkat, and latches onto the mutant's chin with his other hand.

"You're just going to go die in the Sun, Karkat, because you don't have a single idea where he is. You don't know where The Grand Highblood is. Besides that, do you expect a warm welcome? Whatever you did, it forced that stubborn Limeblood to leave -- or, rather, be dragged out by her companions. If my blood-brother had any sense, he'd be trying to flee across the continent -- maybe the ocean -- just to make us a bit more difficult to track and kill." He forces the mutant to look at him.

"Were you going to rely on those red threads of yours?" He waits a beat, ear flicked for danger.

"Who says Gamzee can't do the same? Who says I can't do the same? Indigobloods detest others getting inside our headspaces, Karkat, so I'd refrain if I wanted Gamzee alive -- " his gloved hand drops to the mutant's neck, collecting his scruff, "but, what do I know? Right? Now, do you really want to find Gamzee, or do you want to keep playing these wriggler games?"

 

*

 

His arm is grabbed none too gently-- oh, now his body decides it's not numb, great fucking timing --, Karkat hissing and squirming to get out of Kurloz's grasp. Snarling as he's turned around, cold fingers gripping his chin (and Kurloz even smells like Gamzee, just missing something that would make it exactly the same; even with that, his scent and touch are so jarringly not Gamzee's that Karkat wants to escape even more).

He grabs the arm of the hand grasping him, trying to pull both his face and his own arm free. Cursing Kurloz for the obvious physical advantage he has between them and again for catching him so quick; cursing himself for being caught.

Looking up finally with a glare to match that thinned gaze, until his eyes widen at the mention of his strings-- Gamzee should be the only one who knows, as far as Karkat knows at least, he's the only one who saw and who Karkat told what the visualization meant to him (what should only be that, something from a wriggler's moondreams and wildly vivid imaginations).

How Kurloz knows Karkat can't imagine-- Gamzee says he doesn't share anything of them with him and Karkat would rather believe that --but his expression turns murderous for it, even when the cold hand moves from his face to scruff him like a pupa.

"What do you know?" Karkat speaks pretty evenly for being scruffed, twisting slowed because of it, of the ingrained instinct to go still, but twisting regardless. "I don't even know what I did, about any fucking threads, so what the fuck do you know?" He's seething, at a lot of things, wondering if he could chance a hit smack dab in Kurloz's painted face-- if he can bloody a Violet then it stands to reason he can bloody an Indigo --, digging his own heels in despite wanting to curl up to make it as easy as possible to be carried by the scruff of his neck-- Kurloz ain't his Lusus or Kanaya so Karkat definitely isn't going to do that.

Has half a mind to spit at Kurloz but Karkat imagines that won't end particularly well. "I can find him. I know what to expect if he's wherever The Grand Highblood is. I will not let him pay for something I did, even if I have no fucking clue what the fuck happened, I still did something , and I will take my own due grievance for it." He'd guessed at the possibility of dying, or at it being the only possibility.

 

That's fine. Whatever.

He did something to Xia to make her like that, and if he can't fix it-- whether there's not fixing it or not --he should take his own punishment for it.

 

*

 

"No wonder your anger makes my inverterbrother so miserable. He could just die, you know? Gamzee doesn't like to be hated -- but you're all too ready to hate, aren't you? You're going to drive him to suicide, Karkat, and in a more literal sense than the Limeblood." His gloves being the only thing stopping his nails from piercing into Karkat's scruff, Kurloz begins to drag the obstinate, squirming troll.

He doubts Karkat's even hearing anything he's saying.

Even so, his grip on the troll doesn't let up, and he lifts Karkat over what he can't drag him past.

"You can't find him if he doesn't want to be found, and why would he want to be found by you? What are you going to do if you find him? Shout at him? Slap him? Maybe spit in his face? Honestly, Karkat, you can't even make your mate feel secure that you won't hate him -- otherwise he'd be here." Carrying Karkat hardly slows him down, even if he's not heading back in the direction of the caravans.

In fact, it isn't too soon after that two of them pass them by, the third presumably left as a testament to their fracturing group.

"I know a lot of things, like that malformed little Indigoblood. I trim my own threads. Untie a few." He stops smiling, now that Karkat can't see his face, but keeps up the pretense that he is.

"I exist to aid my inverterbrother, so I trim the unnecessary threads, and snip the harmful ones. One keeps trying to pop up between us. It's easy to unwind it. It's easier to make you detest me. I could be Gamzee if you closed your eyes, but Gamzee's softer than you know." He kicks aside a pile of shrubbery, pulling the mutant behind him.

"I try not to get in his mind too much, because he hates it, but I know you've tried to hit him. I felt it ." He chuckles.

"I know you're going to think it's all fair because he's hit you, but you're not him. There are things you can't stand. There are things he can't stand. There's nothing I cannot stand, however." He chuckles thickly, peering through the foliage above them.

"Maybe that's only a partial truth, but I'm going to throw you at The Grand Highblood's feet and let him do what he will with you -- so, it isn't as if that matters. It'll hardly matter whether or not Gamzee's there. Or the Limeblood. You're not going to get what you want, in the end; The Grand Highblood is worse than you can imagine."

 

*

 

"You think I hate him??" Karkat laughs, a bitter, bitter sound-- and for a moment the way he does it lines up with the horrorterror laughing in Kurloz's head, taunting him with variations of w ̸r ͝o͘ n̵ ͏g ͏~ , because it was there when Karkat did hate Gamzee, and it was there when he stopped; the smeared pieces of mind and memory say it pretty clearly, it's lingering connection can't exactly lie . "I don't . If I did, I wouldn't be here-- and that's not me saying I'd have run, that means I . Wouldn't. Be. Here ."

Karkat would have died long before any of this if he truly hated Gamzee-- it would have been the only way to hurt him that he could think of. He'd have died by tripping himself on those rocky outcrops by the caverns or sat until the sun came to burn him while they were resting, when they first left everyone behind.

And isn't that just sad, that the only way he can think of to really, really hurt his mate is by dying while hating him.

 

Kurloz may sound like Gamzee if Karkat closed his eyes and muffled his ears, but he won't be and that he knows as much just repels him further.

"That's bloody fine, isn't it," he snaps, "You go right on a-fucking-head and hand me off, motherfucker. If neither of them are there, then I've done this for nothing." And it had better not be for nothing. Gamzee said he was going there, and if he isn't then Karkat really seriously just fucked himself for nothing.

 

*

 

"I know you hated him. You're fickle like that, Karkat. Gamzee knows this. Your love -- " he uses the Beforian word here, not some Alternian approximation, "comes and goes like the tide. Indigobloods can't trust the tide. The tide brought up his dead Lusus, you know -- so, he can admire it and covet it and cherish it, but trying to swim will only kill him." He snickers to himself, expression blank.

 

By midnight, he grows tired of literally dragging the mutant, hefting him up properly; he sees the swelling in the other's limp ankle.

A part of him unfurls toward the soft warmth, understands immediately how Gamzee became so stupidly smitten -- and he shoves it away, leaves it for the horrorterror to taunt and tease. Something to gnaw at.

The downside is that, with his face being seen, Kurloz has to watch his expression.

"Let's say we found him curled over in a ditch. Suffering. Would you ease his pain? Put his head to your breast like he's always done for you? He can be awfully pathetic at times. Disgustingly needy." Kurloz keeps his chin up, posture stiff as always -- but he's Gamzee in broad strokes, could be Gamzee if he would just let go .

If he could let go, he might just be the same troll Karkat waltzed with back in the caverns.

"Can you afford to love a thing like that? When it rages? Screams? Anguishes?" His questions lose their bite, but dig deeper, probing as if he's Gamzee's caretaker.

"It might've been better for you to mate with that Ampora, in the long run. Pop out an heir and live out your days behind closed doors. Not that you'd be happy there, but are you happy here?"

 

*

 

That stings a little, to be called fickle. Stings to be told that his feelings can change just like that and maybe it stings because it's probably true; Karkat may love Gamzee now, may say as much, but there will always be the underlying knowledge that if he does something so utterly disagreeable that Karkat may change his feelings like a switch.

Kurloz uses a word Karkat knows, from every time Gamzee tells him ' I love you so ', shifting him so that instead of being scruffed he's carried, eyeing his ankle and rolling his neck, trying to get rid of the feeling.

 

It scoffs, coming out of it's claimed crevice just to jeer at Kurloz, chomping at the bit. ́A͏nd͞ ͞a͝r͏en'̧t ̵ ̨**y҉ou͜ ̸ ̡ ͜á ļia̷r? I ̨ca̕n *̛ fe͟el ͠ ̷ ̨ ̧ ̧that͏,͝ ̕y҉ou ͘k̡n̷ow̡.̀*̨ It sneers a little too eagerly for something that ducks back into it's crack to avoid penitence for it's words.

 

"Don't even joke about that," Karkat cringes at the thought of Eridan, of being mated to him or spending any more time than he did at that place, "or about the other. If I didn't die first I'd have figured how to get rid of Ampora eventually. I bloodied his face, even if it broke my hand, I'm sure I could have figured something out," he snorts, remembering how he told Gamzee his plan with prideful gusto, "If I stayed there, I'd have to have dealt with a target constantly on my back. It's fun in theory and in fiction, not so much when you get a taste of it just by being there ."

Remembers also staying at the pond, telling himself that he wasn't waiting for Gamzee but he was still there anyway when his mate came back to him bloody, barely coherent and full of holes, all to give him a royal head; how seeing him that way gripped at his heart and Karkat worried and fussed until he stopped bleeding out.

"......I am happy, sometimes. Even if it's not all the time, it makes the times that I am something all the more to be cherished. To me at least."

Such simple things as that can make the majority of everything he's been through, put others through, worth it.

"..should you even ask that? Of course I would, how could I not?" If Karkat puts too much thought to it, Kurloz sure sounds like a troll who knows more things than he should, so he doesn't.

 

*

 

"Why shouldn't I ask it?" Kurloz counters, shouldering through the underbrush.

"Outsiders play games with their quadrants. They switch out flush-crushes and pitchmates like the seasons change. A troll one finds attractive one perigee might be repulsive by the next." The quadrants that stay together are rare, so Kurloz has heard and seen, but he's heard and seen enough.

"You're Gamzee's mate, but you're still an outsider. You don't worship The Messiahs. You have sympathy for every heathen. Indigobloods are capricious , but we have our loyalties -- and, we don't know yours. We're allowed to question yours, aren't we?"

 

When the sky begins to lighten, Kurloz sets Karkat underneath a thick tree, pulling out a large, orange fruit and handing it to the mutant.

"Gamzee's never had quadrants. He's never read about them. The Mirthful Messiahs don't care much for them. You can hate a lot of what I do, but you can't hate me for holding Gamzee's best interests in mind." He drops to a crouch, giving no indication if he's tired.

"Eat and sleep." The air is warming, his skin prickling.

"At dusk, I'd like to check on your grubling -- and I'd like your cooperation. All of this stress isn't good for its development. You could miscarry. I know Gamzee doesn't want that, and I'm sure you don't, either." He just means to assess the validity of the grubling still inside Karkat; that it's still inside an egg sac and isn't dead or dying.

That really might just be the last straw for Gamzee.

"You know, despite everything I hear and see, I'd never do anything worse than my inverterbrother." He shrugs, perched on the balls of his feet.

"The way he adores you so annoys me. I'm not used to it. I expected him to be over it by now, but he still has his selfish, idle wriggler-dreams of laying with you all night. As if he isn't The Grand Highblood's descendant."

 

*

 

Karkat bets it'd make him mad to watch village trolls play quadrant games-- it's an absolute mess how village trolls do it. Of course, he's had his own share of crushes through his life, his own vacillations, but nothing like proper quadrants, not like he's read about how they're supposed to be, and maybe that's why, reading such things more than likely shot his standards up; too bad he was kidnapped by fin-face.

But's he's silent while Kurloz talks; it's probably the most he's ever talked, that Karkat knows of, even more than when he asked for a dance with him. Silent because he sort of gets what he's saying, that Karkat's newness is enough of a reason to not completely trust him, not put much trust into him.

He doesn't ask why they've stopped, day beginning to creep into the sky, but Karkat does notice that they're a ways away from the caravans, from where Karkat thinks they left them and everyone else.

Handed a large ripe fruit once he's set down, though at the mention of checking him, rather the grubling inside him, but still the words have Karkat freeze up in slight alarm. Though Kurloz makes a good point, asking for cooperation that Karkat...isn't all that excited to agree to but nods anyway; being in stress like he has, mentally and physically, probably hasn't been good at all. "...alright, then."

Kurloz talks some more, Karkat tinging red at his cheeks as he drops how much Gamzee still adored him despite it being long enough for him to have gotten over the newness of their mateship, how he'd like to lay with Karkat as much as possible if he could.

For that Karkat glances away and tries not to look as red-cheeked as he does, "...w-well, it's probably 'cause I'm just cute like that, y'know....," he murmurs; it's not easy to joke with Kurloz, than, well, everyone else, and even less so about something like that, but Karkat tries anyway, despite regretting the words instantly and only feeling his face heat up more. Looking pointedly at his ankle and trying to rub the swelling down, gently squeezing the flesh and rummaging through his bag for something he could use to wrap it (he should have just left everything in his bag, being slowed down be damned, he was just caught anyway!).

 

*

 

"Gamzee is in love with you ." He speaks more Beforian than not, watching the red bloom under Karkat's skin.

"If you were just a cute little toy for him, he wouldn't care about what you think of him. He wouldn't want you to be happy. It isn't as if we've never kidnapped a cute troll before -- most lowbloods are some type of pathetically cute -- and he's slit their throats, all the same." Kurloz stands on long, wiry legs, fingers deftly popping open the vertical buttons of his top.

Underneath, next to the skin, he wears a white shift tucked into the hem of his trousers -- and it's this which he untucks.

"It's difficult to feel his enthrallment with you when I'm trying to mind my own business. Physical sensations are easier to block out. Familiar emotions." He tears the hem of his shift, a long bandage coming off.

This sullied, unkempt look on Kurloz both fits him perfectly and hangs oddly off his shoulders.

Like nudity -- something perfectly natural, but which should be concealed.

"It's difficult," he bends back down, and takes Karkat's swollen ankle atop his lap, gingerly rotating the joint into place, "to detangle his feelings and my feelings." The makeshift bandage is wrapped around Karkat's ankle, his gloves plucked off to press firmly to the heated skin.

"Not to mention, my position isn't exactly desirable . I have loyalty to The Grand Highblood, then to Gamzee, then to you -- so I can't just have a dance with you, I can't just let you try to be kind to me. Mouthing your mate behind his back wouldn't matter to anyone else, they just bend the knee to The Grand Highblood and call Gamzee a wriggler . I need to bend the knee to both." His hands are cool, spidery and long-fingered; they sap the heat from Karkat's skin just as much as Gamzee's would, if not a touch more.

"Is this doing anything?" He asks.

"There isn't anything much else around to bring down the swelling."

 

*

 

Kurloz speaks more Beforian, and while Karkat doesn't really understand it, he gets the feeling of the words, cheeks stubbornly staying red. Gamzee may have told him as much, how much he likes him-- likes him for more than his nook, he said, has expressed the extent of how much he... loves him (the word by itself even seems to carry as heavy a meaning).

The next he looks up it's to see Kurloz unbuttoning and untucking his shirt, eyes moving right back to his ankle and pretending like he hadn't looked up at all has the sudden interjected thought that he's not going to dwell or entertain at all , hearing fabric rip. It hardly matters, cool fingers handling his foot into Kurloz's lap, pressing over the skin of his ankle where it's swollen and tinged his red as well.

The way he talks about the connection he has with Gamzee makes it sound like there's less control between the two of them of what of one's head seeps into the other and vice versa.

 

Karkat tries not to wince at the acute prick of pain, of his ankle trying to refuse touch until the chill combats the heat of the injury in a way that's actually very soothing, holding his breath as it's wrapped up. It's not numbed like earlier where it let Karkat just ignore it, but it's somewhat calmed enough that the pain isn't low-key screaming at him and trying to take up most of his attention.

"I'm alright, thank you," Karkat breathes out gently, "It'll be fine come dusk, I think. I heal up fast, y'know?" He offers half of a smile, even though Kurloz's explanation on how his service to both Gamzee and The Grand Highblood works just make it seem like he's holding a lot back, could make Karkat pity him a little more for it, for how it seemed unfair on him and didn't he feel like that before too? He swears , if Kurloz suckers him in again he really will kick him in the shins.

Karkat thinks for a minute, lips pursed as he puts his thoughts together, not quite sure of how to say what he wants. He wants to talk about Tavros and his blood-sibling, though it's probably not smart of him-- and it's not even the same circumstances, Rufioh and Tavros were brought up by the breeder that laid them and neither of them have to worry about blood purity or an ancestor, it'd probably mean little to Kurloz to talk about them anyway.

He scratches that line of thought with a shake of his head, "Don't...take this the wrong way, or at least try not to, but....you sound a little like you don't particularly enjoy your position. And then you've tacked me under Gamzee, so I feel like I gotta at least be a little kind to you, whether you can let me or not." Well, whether or not Gamzee takes it wrong if Karkat is or if his blood-sibling accepts it is an entire other thing. "You're actually not...really bad company either, y'know, when you're not tryna chase me through the woods, or tyin' me up in the 'van," his wrist throbs but it'll be fine enough later; and he kind of meant it, a little, Kurloz was fine enough when he's somewhat tolerable, Karkat slowly pulling his leg back.

"...Did you kill that Bronzeblood, the pack troll that came back with us? Not that I'm gonna say anything against it, I'm getting a little more and more used to it, just curious is all."

 

*

 

"Yes, I did." With Karkat pulling his foot away, Kurloz stands.

His hands are quick in tucking his torn shift back into the waist of his pants; quicker in buttoning him back up to the throat.

"Indigobloods, as a whole, don't particularly enjoy our positions." His gloves are the last article of clothing to be returned to him, his slender hands fitted back inside their leather casings.

"I'm sure Gamzee's told you that it isn't always like this , but it is." He shrugs, eyeing Karkat for a while.

"We fuss and fight and strife and suffer until some overlooked detail gets us killed -- we're exhausted half the time and almost always hungry, too-hot or too-cold." Apparently, he's decided he doesn't need to literally sit in front of Karkat and watch him, so he sits just beside the mutant.

"The castes above us and below us lavish in gold, fine silks, and comfort. We languish in blood and agony and ask The Mirthful Messiahs why -- but They don't have to answer us. We say it's fine but every Indigoblood wants to see Alternia burn , Karkat, for the way it treats us." He could gnash his teeth over the thought all day, but takes a breath, and relaxes his shoulders.

He hadn't even been aware he'd been getting worked up.

"Regardless," his eyelids feel heavy, the heat of the day making him want to sleep, "I do what I do to maintain some semblance of... something. For Gamzee. I knew you would try to run..." He turns his gaze away from Karkat, although he keeps an ear open.

"... Do you love him? I do. Most trolls find it odd I've never tried to kill him, but I hold too much affection for him to do that. He was pitiable from the start, and he'll be pitiable when he perishes."

 

*

 

Gamzee had told him that, the troupe was not always in some form or degree of dire straights. Kurloz says that there's always something that sets one thing or someone off and it makes trouble. He figures Gamzee must not have wanted him to worry by telling him something like that.

He doesn't give much mind to Kurloz sitting beside him, propping his knees up-- at least one of them anyway --to set his elbow on, rest his face in his hand. Zhen had said as much too, letting the Empire fall to ruin, even in the face of the Mother Grubs dying again-- to think of Zhen and Xia puts a weight in his chest, on his heart, so he tries not to until he comes to the point where it's unavoidable.

Beside him, as he speaks, Karkat can feel a deeply set, slow-burning rage rise up from him, growing in his voice and only getting wary right up to the moment where he calms himself back down, Karkat ignoring the want to pap at him, pretty sure it'd be unsolicited.

 

That they have to live like that, all because of the Empress and whatever it is she cast them out to basically a life of exile for her own petty whims, makes him both upset and saddened (Gamzee had said he wanted to settle, take their troupe and Karkat somewhere out of Her reach where they can just be and raise their grublings-- the twins and Chitti, too).

"I do," Karkat blurts it without so much as a second of hesitation, cheeks dusting again and turning away from Kurloz, "I..love him," the word is fumbled from his mouth, feeling weird not saying I love you so-- Gamzee didn't say it to him before he left but Karkat tries not to think too much on it. "....I have made promises, and so has Gamzee. I try not to make promises I can't keep." For Karkat it's as simple as that; he even told his mate he's stuck with Karkat since he has him so he might as well get used to it.

 

*

 

"I'm glad." Kurloz murmurs, turning his gaze to the grass and dirt beneath them.

"Now eat, sleep, and we'll continue at dusk."

 

He makes good on the promise of continuing at dusk, not even bothering to wake Karkat before he's hefting the troll up and walking off -- not that he's particularly harsh about it. He's gentle, in fact.

For a few nights, they follow the stream, which widens into a river; when Karkat can walk again, and the river threatens to pull Karkat under just for washing his face, Kurloz strays them away from the rushing water.

Of course, never too far.

He always has to go back and fill up their water skins -- and the time between cities makes him anxious. Nights, to weeks, to bordering perigees.

 

Karkat reeks .

He knew that before -- has known that since the moment he'd seen Karkat -- but Kurloz was always busy. If he wasn't busy sewing, he was busy dismantling; reading or writing or crafting. Now, all they do is walk, and talk; eat and rest.

A decent steal from the third city they've passed (because they resort now to solely stealing, considering they have nothing to pawn), and they're safely outside its walls, a still pond of water their source for bathing.

He knows better than to drink still water.

"You go first, Karkat." Kurloz, always making excuses, hasn't allowed himself to see Karkat naked. Not that Karkat would allow him, he's sure, but the casual nudity he shares with the other Indigobloods doesn't extend out here.

Besides, thoughts of burying his face in Karkat's neck -- goring holes in his clothing -- become increasingly intrusive. He doesn't need to add fuel to the flame.

The wiry Indigoblood, marking down another night that they've been searching for The Grand Highblood, wades into the foliage, and makes sure to put the trunk of a thick tree between them.

"It's been too long. I'm stealing a map from the next city we pass -- Gamzee's surely already met up with our ancestor, and we're just wasting time. He's probably pissed. Both of them." In the ensuing days, Kurloz has become more talkative -- it's hard to keep quiet with Karkat around.

He's even started teaching him some Beforian, alongside scripture -- from memory, considering they don't have a book on them.

 

*

 

It doesn't take as long for dusk to come as it did when Karkat was by himself, but it still takes a while. Fruit sugar settles his nerves immensely, not knowing he had nerves to settle but regardless, it helps him actually close his eyes to rest some, considering how he didn't really sleep the last time when they were all still together.

When he next wakes, it's to being carried, insisting that he can walk himself, only to wind up being carried on the basis that he cannot, in fact, walk himself, at least not for another couple of nights without having a limp; on the other hand, his arm and hand he'd fucked up seemed to have righted itself pretty okay, as far as that nothing tells Karkat that anything is wrong , which works out well enough.

 

They usually stick close to the stream and river, at least they stay close enough despite Karkat being too short to even wash his face without the rushing water trying to take him along the current, puffing cheeks most of the way until they decide on entering a city.

The dress Zhen made for him lets him get away with being a short Jadeblood or a Jade wriggler, though they don't have anything to sell and Karkat feels so stupid to have dumped out his bag, stubbornly thinking he was going to just waltz right on into the right camp of clowns and pull a Leeroy Jenkns™ kind of trick; so much for that.

All he's got on him is his knife, his suncloak, that tome, weaving fiber, his signsake, and the picture: all in all pretty useless and nothing he really wants to part with even.

 

In the end, they resort to outright stealing what they need and bolting it out of the city boundaries. Continuing to do this over the next nights, turn to weeks, turn to more. How they act in a city becoming a habit, sticking together and going in and out enough to surmise the trolls they're looking for aren't there.

He's told to bathe first, Kurloz setting himself just behind a rather thick tree, affording Karkat as much privacy as he can get. He doesn't bother taking the dress off since it needs a wash anyway and Karkat's been able to wear his suncloak just fine without much of an issue while it dries, glad that it's oversized on him.

It's really been a bit, and his middle is starting to show more, the ache starting in his chest. These aren't really things that can be addressed right now, so Karkat's been trying to ignore them, focus on finding Gamzee and-or The Grand Highblood.

 

The horrorterror is a petty thing, waving it in Kurloz's face now that it was even more obvious, flaunting it's copied body at the Indigo-- the imitation is cruelly twisted, Karkat's features distorted and made beautiful but in an unsettling way. Slithering back into the crevice and snickering at him.

 

"I'm sorry, if I hadn't been so rash I'd have a map for us," and some caegers, and some other things they may have needed.

Knowing that Kurloz usually keeps to himself, it's rather a wonder to hear him so much, especially over these past weeks. He'd started teaching Karkat more Beforian, some words he's a little familiar with; the Burgundies, Bronzes and Golds with psi abilities and Second Sight that come to do their funeral rites and other rituals for festivals sing in Beforian, and one of the songs Karkat's been humming is just that, the song for sending the dead on their way (just in case, Karkat thinking of those who he knows have died; the Burgundies they brought to the caverns, that Bronze pack troll, and others every now and then, there's a grab on his arm, a tug on some part of him, but it goes ignored since nothing is there..that he can see anyway).

Karkat emerges from the pond, securing his suncloak on him and tying it where it needs to be closed so he's not flashing Kurloz and hanging his dress to dry with the heat of day.

"You know, I didn't really think about it, but a lot of songs I remember being taught are in Beforian. We also got a lot of traders that would come from the Eastern continent, I wonder if the two tie in together somehow," he muses. Karkat knows he talks a lot, and sometimes he can't help himself from being chatty; at the very least Kurloz hasn't snapped at him for anything, though he might just be humoring him or holding off altogether.

 

*

 

Kurloz wants to roll his eyes, but refrains, staring blankly at a thorny bush.

"I'm trying to teach you practical Beforian and scripture, Karkat. Either focus, or admit you have no interest in what I have to teach. I hope you know we don't tolerate blasphemy; that includes all Beforian and Alternian traditions." It's easier to get exasperated or default to a dry, unwavering tone with Karkat.

The horrorterror can try to bother him all it wants, but the real thing is much more of a bother.

"It'll be shameful and a disgrace to Gamzee if his mate cannot recite scripture, has no understanding of it, and only knows blasphemous ditties. You talk about the 'pressures' of being mated to royalty -- aren't you insulting us?" He sighs, listening for the drip of water to cease before he takes his turn at the pond.

Passing Karkat, his bright eyes glance over his figure -- and then he turns his cheek to the mutant, focussing on plucking off his gloves.

"You are mated to royalty. Besides," he tosses his gloves to the ground, getting to his knees, "we don't hold court and we don't confer with other lineages -- but we do wipe them out. Ampora's ancestor died because he failed in making The Grand Highblood laugh." Holding his hair back, Kurloz plunges his face into the water, scrubbing his skin free of greasepaint.

Like all of the other Indigobloods, he doesn't need a mirror to do his face; he gets by with muscle memory and his fingers.

He comes up for air, refusing to take off his clothes. If he really needs it, then he'll bathe in the earliest hours of dusk -- otherwise, he prefers to stay clothed.

The highblood sits back, staring out over the pond.

"Gamzee's been generous toward you, but it's really time you start trying to act like a mate befitting the next Grand Highblood, Karkat. That Limeblood, more or less, had the part down. She would've been a valuable mentor toward you." He knows Karkat doesn't like to think about Xia, but it's true.

At the very least, Kurloz never says her name .

"Anyway, do you want lessons before sleep? I'll admit I'm not too keen on teaching you anything. Going into cities irritates me." Staying out of cities irritates him, as well; everything irritates him with Karkat around.

"There should be a middleblood city nearby. We'll go there tomorrow. I believe we're at the border of... Navyblood territory and... Oliveblood territory."

 

*

 

Karkat pouts a bit at being scolded, sticking his tongue at Kurloz's back as they switch out spots, Karkat now at the tree and the other presumably bathing.

" I'm trying, you can't say that I'm not trying to learn it . I just made an observation is all...," he ends up grumbling, though it's clear he's picking up fast on what Kurloz is teaching him..as far as language anyway, scripture is a little harder than that, somehow. He speaks Beforian a little slower than his normal pace, trying not to make mistakes.

He's all puffed-up cheeks as Kurloz reminds him of something that he thought some time ago; it was seen as a shame if someone's mate-- at least Gamzee as being the next Grand Highblood --could not acclimate or learn the basic bare minimum of the religion, never mind culture. But he is trying, he promised Gamzee that much, and as Kurloz says, he didn't want to bring any more shame to his mate by being ignorant.

"That sounds about right, Eridan had a shit sense of humor, and I can't say anything for Cronus because he's dead ." And good riddances, too.

 

Though he doesn't say much when Xia is mentioned. Maybe not in name, but Karkat knows as much. He'd been hoping to learn some from her, maybe not scripture but at least how to act, despite his own personal hangups-- then again, she had been miserable, Karkat felt as much before she cut everything off. He shakes his head of such thoughts, not wanting to dwell so much on it.

Karkat speaks over his shoulder, "Don't worry about teaching lessons tonight. If you ain't keen on it and you're already irritated on top of that, then you'll just end up upset with me."

He's become a little more open with Kurloz, at least in expressions and talking, open enough that he feels a piece of comfort to do as much; sometimes at an angle he'll look exactly like Gamzee, and it makes Karkat miss him just a little more.

 

*

 

"Maybe," he muses, water dripping down his fine features, "but your understanding of scripture is worse than a pupa." His naked face is smooth, youthful; he could be young and vibrant if he truly, honestly smiled .
He could be handsome.

His damp hands work round his hairline, removing the last dredges of paint; his hair, which has begun to grow out, giving him that wild edge Gamzee's always naturally kept about himself.

"You focus on the inane. You can't even greet another Indigoblood properly, Karkat. What's the difference between a Brother and a brother; an inverterbrother and a Brother? What is divine right? Who has divine right?" He turns his head, taking peeks at the mutant through his lashes.

This little alcove already reeks of Karkat's sugary-sweet scent; it's gotten thicker, he thinks.

In the cities, more and more trolls do double-takes; Kurloz, in his Indigoblood attire, has to stare at any and all potential suitors until they either get the message, or get dragged across the street, into a dark alley and tossed into the nearest brick wall.

He will not have another troll lay their filthy hands on Karkat, and he's let everyone know just as much.

 

"The hierarchy might be implied through blood specifications, inter-posse politics, age, and strength -- but Praise be The Mirthful Messiahs is a common greeting, Karkat." Thumbing water off his jaw, Kurloz's tongue passes the inner seam of his lips.
He's thirsty.

"You're lucky to have a mate with such high standing. His status is transferred to you. Not wholesale , but you reflect one another." He stands, forgetting his gloves for the moment.

"Like I've said, that he's spoiled you so completely only serves to make you look increasingly desirable. Your ignorance of us and our customs, however, makes him look weak. Undesirable . Cull-worthy ." He gestures with his hands as he speaks, long, clawed fingers moving through the heated air with a grace and energy he normally lacks -- or hides.

"So, simply," those hands come to clasp before his stomach, where an uncomfortable heat has been residing for nights, "remember to greet everyone beneath you with Praise be . If you're unsure, revert to the entire greeting." His lips turn up into a smile, his bright eyes on the mutant.

"How would you greet me, Karkat?"

 

*

 

For someone who's prideful for finishing his schoolfeeding, Karkat sure feels like he's being picked on for not absorbing these things fast enough. Nothing about Kurloz not teaching him well, just some things are easier to pick up than others (like with histories, that wasn't particularly fun for him to study).

Even so, Karkat glances up at Kurloz as he comes around, face clean of greasepaint now and still dripping water, bundled inside his suncloak as he tries to change his pout to something more impassive.

 

He feels more and more like he's being lectured and Karkat hates to admit it but Kurloz just might be able to give Kanaya a run for her money for lectures.

Can hear her even, ' You decided to stay with your clown mate so it's your responsibility to learn these things. It's better to do it now than be embarrassed later '. If there wasn't a deep obvious rift and reason why it wouldn't (probably) happen, he bets she'd be here right now, drilling lessons and things into him right along with the Indigo.

His attention flicks from his imagination back to Kurloz, the question seemingly out of nowhere (no, he'd been talking about it, Karkat just wasn't paying as much attention as he should have), head pulling a big blank on him while he thinks on answers.

What was the right answer?? Before, Kurloz had told him about the order of his loyalties, and just now he'd said something about Gamzee's rank and standing.

........Could he blame Kurloz for his zoning out? No, probably not.

"......P-Praise be....or Praise be to the Mirthful Messiahs..?" At the very least he's listening somewhat, enough to not know nothing. Either way he's sure he's right.

 

*

 

Kurloz sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Weren't you puffed up over being smarter than the average village bumpkin, Karkat? I know you weren't listening to me just now." He grabs a stick off the ground, getting as close as he dares to the mutant.
He draws a single line in the dirt.

" That is The Grand Highblood," beneath that, another line, " that is Gamzee," again, another line, "and that is you." He pokes at the line representing 'Karkat'.

"If you say Praise Be The Mirthful Messiahs to those above you, and you say Praise Be to those below you, then...?" He taps all three lines.

"I'm not above you, so you'd say Praise Be ."

After a moment, he draws a fourth line.

"That'll be your grubling." He tosses the stick away, wiping his palm clean.

"That's not difficult to remember, is it?" His brows raise as he leans against a tree.

"Bend the knee to your mate and his ancestor. Everyone else is beneath you. Simple, right?" He hopes so.

"Please, tell me you were listening, Karkat. You're not getting breeder-pan yet, right? You've hardly been carrying for -- " his voice dies off, arms crossing loosely as he thinks.

 

Karkat was already carrying when he'd returned to the caverns, but he'd not been carrying when they left.

His cheeks threaten to flush, and a part of him wants to ask how many times he'd mated with Gamzee until his slurry took -- but it's too early for such filthy thoughts and, besides, he can't be zoning out, too.

Except, that's what he does for a solid minute, ears turning lavender while he holds a bare palm to his cheek.

"You're fine." He says suddenly, snapping himself out of his daydream.

"Are you taking the first rotation, or am I? I don't mind staying up the entire day if you need to rest, either." At some point, he'd begun to trust Karkat enough to put them on a rotating schedule -- and he doesn't mind carrying the mutant, letting him nap throughout the night.

 

*

 

Karkat's mouth drops-- because he just threw that in his face --before pursing his lips and quietly grumbling that he is smarter than the average village bumpkin, and even the smartest village booknerd would have trouble grasping some things over others.

But the visual representation helps.

 

"Alright, alright, I got it now, I'll remember. I was listening, you know." At least part of the way.

When he'd been at Ampora's palace, Karkat would have been Prince Consort, but he knew already it would only be in appearances and an empty title, from Eridan's dismissiveness and everyone else whispering about a blatant red mutant in the halls.

He still would have been below everyone else based on that alone and Eridan wouldn't have given a damn about some lower court troll mistreating him, whether in public or privately; because Karkat should have just been happy enough to have been ' lifted ' out of the supposed dregs of his backwater village and locked right into his gilded cage.

It's great reassurance, that his mateship with Gamzee shouldn't be like that, excluding the whims of The Grand Highblood.

 

"I most certainly am not getting breeder-pan. And it's only been a perigee or two, give or take. About that long, anyway," Karkat only gives notice to Kurloz's silence when he's not answering back, glancing up. Setting his eyes at some other spot on the ground because it feels like he saw something he shouldn't have ; he's purpling from the tips of his ears, and he's definitely Gamzee's blood sibling for how it even spreads the same way. They're absolutely without a doubt related for how his expressions looks like the one Gamzee makes when he's thinking of something bad. Or dirty .

The snort Karkat makes is forcibly disguised as a sneeze, ducking into his cloak and wholly pretending like he's done or thought or noticed nothing. What snort, he's just sneezed, that's all he did, muttering something about someone talking behind his back or some superstition, gosh, they're lucky he's not there right now to catch them.

"You rest up, I'm fine. I can take first watch." It's not like Karkat does anything straining, not that he's allowed to either, since Kurloz ends up carrying him at dusk anyway.

 

He can read more of that tome, too. From the first few pages, it details the meeting of the Olive writer and another pair of trolls, Jade and somehow, Red, how the Red was strange in that their color had no place on the known spectrum, but the words they spoke brought about a change to those who would listen, to meeting another, a Gold, and adding to their traveling party as they went about the land to give words of teaching to those willing to lend an ear.

Karkat hasn't gotten further than that, almost as if he's reluctant to, probably. He is a little. But today he plans to get through some more of it.

 

*

 

"I know you're laughing at me." Kurloz murmurs, gaze thinning as he watches Karkat.

He pats the mutant between the horns, more firm than a pap but nothing near a strike. It's the closest he's willing to get to punishing Karkat -- and it's only then that he realises his hands are bare, and his palm tingles.
Karkat's hair is soft.

"You're going to read more of that tome, right?" He immediately averts his gaze, grabbing and tugging on his gloves. Trying to wipe away the sensation as if he's just got something on his trousers.

"Keep in mind it's heretical and written by a mourning Oliveblood. She's an unreliable narrator, at best. Besides, she's dead. Most of them are dead. The Grand Highblood's around, mentioned in that thing -- but never as anything more than a monster." Looking at the pond, his mouth still feels dry.

"My point is, don't take it as fact. The Grand Highblood can answer whatever questions he pleases -- but he won't lie. If you've learned anything about us, by now, it should be that we don't like liars." He goes back over to the tree, the heat finally getting under his skin.

He bunches up his suncloak and uses it as a makeshift pillow, curling his long limbs into a ball.

"Maybe, if my blood were pure, there'd be a mutant out there for me." He tacks on a forced chuckle, settling down with a quiet sigh.

"Praise Be The Mirthful Messiahs, Karkat. I'll pray for your soul." He hides his face; a habit he'd never gotten over from when he was a pupa.

 

*

 

Kurloz essentially tells Karkat he isn't slick at all, though words and a pat between the horns is his reprimand.

"Your words, not mine," Karkat simply refuses to believe that he isn't slick.

 

"I am. I've been putting it off for...because," because the sign on the book is the same as his, and his sign is apparently significant if he believes Zhen, or the book for that matter. Karkat's not sure what he wants to take as truth, but Gamzee wanted him to read it, and there's literally nothing else to do (he's done some of the weaving, but some of the fiber strands need to be dyed, and he wanted to dye it his own Red; it would have been a meaningful gift to give to Xia and instead Karkat got upset with her when she was already feeling the way she was, and he'd done that to her instead.

Karkat doesn't think any more on it, nor does he give anything further about his reasons for putting off reading the tome (before he could always find something else to do, and sometimes there were other things to do, to take care of; now there's really no excuse but to just do it and get it over with).

"I've got it, don't worry. Everything in here," Karkat pats the book, "I will take with the smallest grain of salt, so just get some sleep, will you?" He's half joking, though joking with Kurloz has becoming easier than before.

He rolls his eyes, facing away from Kurloz as he quips about a mutant mate for himself, like there wasn't any other choice of breeder or mate he could choose-- they all must be related, and may as well be directly , as if The Grand Highblood had both Kurloz and Gamzee by a breeder-- he was so right about that mutant fetish.

Kurloz is soon quiet and Karkat tries to be too, opening the tome and finding where he bookmarked, being careful with the pages that seem a little older.

 

Picking up from where he was, Meulin, the Olive narrator, records how the Empress heard wind of them, how She was so bothered by these supposedly insignificant trolls that she put a bounty on them, on her, on the Jade titled Dolorosa, on the Gold named Mituna who joined them, and on the Redblooded one, Kankri. They travel far through the lands, avoiding coastal cities and towns, places where they could be easily taken to Her or be captured in general.

Inland, where land trolls heard less and less of the Empress's orders, was where Kankri gave his words. Some ridiculed them, though some commended them, and even those who only felt safe enough to stay silent came up to him with touched hearts.

Meulin writes that the turning of their luck was probably when they stepped onto Church grounds. Kankri was unafraid when brought before The Grand Highblood, Gül, and it was that and a few other things that made the Indigo laugh, sparing their group from punishment by whatever mercies they were granted. Laughed further at Kankri's ideals, at his words. It was strange then that he spent so much of his time with Kankri, whenever they traveled through the area. Meulin admits her jealousy, when she began to see the signs of change in their relationship; she loved Kankri, transcending beyond any quadrant and knew he felt that for her too, as he said by his own words. Kankri, as sure as his blood was Red, just had so much of his love that he had enough to share with more than one troll.

Meulin, reluctantly, agreed to his terms, that Kankri would come back to the Church to be with Gül The Grand Highblood, her heart knowing his, but her mind whispering other things. The Dolorosa gave her own doubts as Kankri's caretaker, but she'd told him that she would always support and care for him no matter what. Mituna had no reasons to hold him back, and as a trusted friend told him only to be careful.

 

Karkat rubs his eyes, the brightening of the sky getting to him, but he's not quite able to make himself close the book.

 

*

 

Kurloz has gone through the tome so many times, dissecting every passage and every choice of vocabulary, that he may as well know the trolls on the page.

That Karkat teases him makes him want to slap the troll, but he just curls in on himself tighter, like a troll about to spin their cocoon.

Kurloz is still a ways off. He'll be next, most likely, but his skin is smooth and clear -- and, besides, it'll be a late maturation. The Indigoblood, even back at the caverns, ate only until he was full (which was never much). He's too thin and worn out, and he feels that way throughout the day.

 

Eventually, he can't take it any more, and sits up.

"Bedtime." He doesn't try to feign sleepiness, or sleeplessness. Karkat can infer what he wants.

The mutant has that tome open in his lap, and Kurloz shuts it for him.

"Enough of that." He's sure Kankri -- and what a horrid name that is -- would've had thousands of strings coming off him.
Slut that he is couldn't decide between a troll that could protect him, and a useless Oliveblood.

Irrationally, Kurloz wants to hurl the tome into the lake, and then toss himself in after it; boiling to death sounds like a horrible way to go.

Thankfully, he just hefts up the book, and returns it to Karkat's bag.

"Maybe we can trade for lodging in the next city." He murmurs.

--

It's a fat chance for that; most of the city has indiscriminately been razed, the population either detained or outright murdered -- after all, Navybloods listen to their Indigoblooded superiors, and The Grand Highblood is not someone to disobey.

The walls surrounding the city have been painted in gore, bodies piled in the entrances; they were trying to escape.

If Kurloz remembers correctly -- and why wouldn't he, when all he does is sit and think -- there are three royal Olivebloods running this city.

Two of their heads have been shoved onto pikes.

"The Grand Highblood will be here," his voice stands out amongst the silence, "or he's recently been here." It looks like a part of the city is on fire. Kurloz takes it in as if this were nothing more than a slight surprise, deferring to Karkat after a moment.

"Do you want me to carry you?"

 

*

 

Eventually, Karkat is made to sleep, and he almost devolves to wriggler-whining, that he's not sleepy, that he can stay up a little longer, please Kanaya let him stay up a little more. Of course, he doesn't actually say any of these, he's too old for that.

While he drifts, there's a flash of red that pulls his waning attention, but it's gone before he can pay it much more mind than that.

Karkat's clothes are luckily dried and not bleached out (he'd have been so sad if it was), dressing quickly when Kurloz wakes him, albeit sleepily. Starting back on the road is a quick wake-up, Karkat more alert and hyping himself up mentally to cover as much road as they can.

The first time he was traveling alone with Gamzee was talkless and restless and generally not that great a trip considering he was being dragged about, sometimes literally. This time is not as empty as that, and when he'd said Kurloz was good company he did mean it; whether that was because of him being Gamzee's mate or the Indigo being more open than he has been, Karkat couldn't say, and maybe he's thinking of their current trust and comfort with each other is more than it is (if someone asked him, he'd say Kurloz was his friend; if someone asked Kurloz, he might deny it for whatever reasons he has to deny it) (he's become attached, enough to say such a thing).

--

They can't have any further discussion of lodgings. They literally can't, when they reach the city, simply because there is no lodging to be discussed. The city is burning, bloodied, and beaten.

Karkat looks with widened eyes over the gore bathing the walls-- there's so much , a myriad of smeared colors on stone canvas. It's nothing but pure, sheer carnage, piles of bodies and not a single one of them move, not a hint of survival.

Kurloz's even tone is nearly deafening in the silence of death , and Karkat draws a quiet shuddering breath, as if he hadn't allowed himself to breathe for several long moments.

"....no. I can...walk," he answers but that's debatable, Karkat feeling so weak in the legs it's hard to make himself move forward, nevermind that he does anyway, Red tears silently spilling over his lashes, heart gripped so tightly so, so many shredded strings, greyed, dead, and dying.

 

This is what The Grand Highblood is capable of.

No one is left to even mourn.

Notes:

it was fun, getting to do this with you.

there's maybe one or two more chapters to get out of this chat, and then that's it for this.

then I have to move on to the next one, and the one after, and so on.

just another shout into the void, not even hearing the echo back.

i hope you're doing okay

Chapter 38: Longing For Salicity

Notes:

and what would this be but a smut rp? of course they're at it again.

I know we usually went wild with our smut, but this one really threw my Karkat out the door lolol

never mind him being like 'um ur dad is here but okie lemme succ' and then we did what we did, what we do best.

From his satchel, Kurloz produces a pair of viciously long knitting needles; he'd stolen these from a Violetblood.

They're actually rather handy; mainly in skewering small hopbeasts, nutbeasts, and anything else he can find. He's also used them to cook food. Thus far, they've not been used as actual weapons, although they could very well be used as such -- otherwise he wouldn't have bothered pilfering them.

The Indigoblood nudges aside as many bodies as he can, ushering Karkat into the city.

There are two choices: two take the most bloodless paths in hopes of gathering more information, or stepping over pavement run slick with blood on the chance that The Grand Highblood is here.

 

It's strange, though.

 

Kurloz can't feel Gamzee or The Grand Highblood when he should be able to feel both. Their thoughts and feelings should crowd his head until his own input becomes entangled with theirs.

There's just nothing.

He decides, after craning his neck to peer down multiple avenues, that he'd be scolded for being a coward if The Grand Highblood is here. He'll be caught and scolded.

 

Kurloz takes Karkat's hand and starts him toward the roaring blaze.

The blood beneath their feet hasn't had a chance to go dry, yet. Or, rather, the supply is continuously replenished, flowing into ditches and basins like water.

On either side, both buildings and vendors have been decimated.

 

His spirits rise, just a bit, when the central tax office is still standing -- and decorated, splattered with gore in every colour.

He opens his mouth, inhaling, only for his entire body to freeze.

 

"Praise Be, Brother Kurloz. " The voice, deep and thick and rich, is inside his head and outside his head and he pulls Karkat closer on instinct, a shiver running through his taut muscles.

"What? " The voice pouts, and it takes him a moment to discern that it's coming from the innards of the central tax office.
Just inside the doorway.

"Are you going to stand out here like wet purrbeasts, or are you going to come inside ?" A tall -- very tall -- adult troll steps out into the street.

His horns sweep back ever so slightly from his scalp, his hair pulled back and tied loosely with a purple silk ribbon; his features are obscured by his greasepaint, but his fangs are white, and his purple eyes are alight with emotion.

The slender figure of The Grand Highblood descends upon Kurloz, cupping and upturning his face.

"Poor Kurloz, you must've traveled far. Your clothing is all filthy. And you," a purple eye rolls in Karkat's direction, smile quirking to show the barest hint of a fang, "must be Karkat." He straightens up in one fluid, graceful motion; the blouse and pants he wears are, surprisingly, clean.

"Well? Come in! I haven't had visitors in such a long time!"

"Gamzee..." Kurloz blinks, seemingly returning to himself.

"What about him?" The Grand Highblood looks sweeps younger than he ought, not a single fleck of white on his skin or in his long, lush black hair.

"He is with You?" He asks, pushing the breathless note from his voice.

The Grand Highblood's eyes thin, his smile widening.

"Blood-bonding at its finest -- I sent him on a little errand, but he'll be back soon." He clasps his hands, nodding to the two trolls.

"Hungry?"

 

*

 

There's so much blood, it puddles and mixes together on the pavement, swirls of muddied color. Karkat wonders if he had Second Sight, how many ghosts he would see wonders how many would look back at him.

Kurloz for the most part seems unfazed, and Karkat uses him as an anchor; he's not sure he could keep putting one foot in front of the other without someone to nudge him onward or to hold on to; so, so, many bodies...who's going to send them on ahead? That numbness is starting to return, Karkat's not sure if he missed it or hated it, but he squeezes Kurloz's hand for some assurance he's there.

 

A troll-- an adult --stands in the doorway of a neat, tidy, if not for smattered blood and gore over it's walls, office building, addressing Kurloz. If Karkat's pan is working, he'll understand that this troll stands higher than Kurloz, and probably himself-- and if it isn't Gamzee then this is The Grand Highblood.

He is tall, like stories say, but not built like some monstrous hulking thing. He doesn't need to be, and Karkat can feel that. The Grand Highblood in his clean, spotless clothes looks, and acts, almost like a normal troll, aside from Karkat's gut instinct screaming at him, a high ringing from within his head, a chill crawling with needlelike spider legs down his spine, tears dried up in an instant; he feels like if he takes his eyes off of him for too long he's going to regret it.

Karkat can feel Kurloz, that something is up with him, but no more than that and he doesn't probe verbally or otherwise never wants to go that deep again, asking about Gamzee to be told that he's been sent on something, like it was so simple.

He hasn't mentioned Xia, and Karkat doesn't trust the way he smiles, how he knows his name (probably because of Gamzee, but still). Doesn't trust anything about him at all.

 

*

 

Kurloz, shocked from his stunned grip on Karkat, strides after The Grand Highblood like it were nothing -- and, once inside the office building, the stench of blood and burning hives dissipates.

It's still there, in the background, but the fabrics hung from the ceiling -- the furs piled on the floor and the drapery smeared haphazardly across the walls -- are all dyed naturally.

Albeit, Lime and Red have been added to the menagerie of colours. Their presences makes them pop out amongst the others.

 

The door shuts behind them with a hollow thunk , The Grand Highblood passing them by.

He smells of mint -- almost too obviously, like he's hiding something.

Kurloz takes Karkat to a chair piled in furs and seats him, and then settles by Karkat's feet -- like the dog he is.

"Thank-you for having us, Highblood." Kurloz murmurs, noting that the windows have been painted over twice but not broken. It must help keep out the stench.

"Well, I didn't really ask for you, now did I?" He says, returning with a glass bowl of jellied candies cut into cubes; a fine, expensive delicacy that he most certainly did not pay for.

"But, I'm not so harsh as to turn away my blood-heirs. Not when they come pathetically crawling to me. Here," he places the bowl of sweet confections on the arm of Karkat's chair, taking his own across the mutant, "eat up. Gamzee tells me you're carrying already -- he's so excited, you know?" Kurloz, gaze lowered, pulls off a glove and reaches into the bowl.

He plucks a single rose-coloured sweet from the dish, and holds it to Karkat's lips.

The Grand Highblood blinks slowly, lidded gaze on Karkat.

"Are you wondering about Xia?"

 

*

 

Not even it has the gall to be so blatant about it's presence, staying firmly within it's too-small niche; if the troll it's forced to occupy can hurt it, that troll can kill it, even if not completely, thanks to the roots left behind in it's original host. It's experienced many, many things and that isn't one it wishes to have just yet. Perhaps, if it could have eaten some more of Karkat, it might have stood on more even ground.

It isn't hiding . It's biding time.

 

The sounds and smells of outside seem to disappear once the door closes, though Karkat's not put at ease at all, not with The Grand Highblood behind them (his entire being says to be aware of where he is at all times; with the outside being but a faint background noise, Karkat could swear he hears things, warnings, whispers, advice. If he wasn't here he might believe he was like Sollux) ( Brace yourself. Be careful. Be smart ).

Inside is decorated in swathes of colorful fabrics hung around the inside; the Lime and Red do not go unnoticed.

Everything smells of mint-- or menthol, whichever it is, it's strong, enough that it keeps the scent of blood at bay, and for Karkat to realize it comes off of him .

He's put into a chair, laden with furs and left to hide a frown as Kurloz sits below him, Karkat keeping his face as schooled as possible. As much as it might bother him, it's better for him to keep his mouth shut, Kurloz would probably tell him as much, too.

The Grand Highblood returns with a bowl of candy-- jeweled jellies, Karkat's seen them before, the ones made with honey they called ambers (Vriska would nick some for him from a trader's cart when Kanaya wasn't there to scold either of them, and he used to be so excited to eat something that looked like gems ) (and if it weren't for the situation, Karkat would have been slack-jawed and glitter-eyed-- now he's apprehensive and if not the air in the room, then it's his own body that's tense).

The bowl is placed on the wide armrest of the chair he's on, Karkat's head lowered enough to not be a mannerless cretin until The Grand Highblood has moved away. Kurloz putting a piece up to his mouth has Karkat fighting a blush and a face because he doesn't need to do that much, reluctantly parting his lips and gingerly taking the jelly, a long sleeve over his mouth while he chews it quickly in time to answer The Grand Highblood.

Karkat's surprise shows first, then sorrow at Xia's name, going through expressions quickly before coming back to neutral, lowering his head again, trying to keep his voice even and steady the way Kurloz does, " ...Praise be to the Mirthful Messiahs, Grand Highblood, " he's nervous as shit and surprised that it's not showing in his voice, at least, Karkat doesn't think it shows, raising back up but chooses to look at a spot in his direction, "..Would you tell me?"

 

*

 

His brows raise, a trim, long leg crossing over the other.

He'd be considered well-dressed, if not lacking in any indication of his blood colour, if not for the absence of footwear. Even the claws of his feet look like something meant to grip and tear.

"Praise Be, Karkat. " He returns the greeting, bobbing his foot.

"What do you want to know? My most devout of Sisters, Zhen, would be able to tell you more; she's the one who dragged Xia back to me. Her and that Oliveblood." He sighs, taking his chin in his hand, looking off to the side.

"Although, is there anything to tell? I feed her through a tube. Bathe her. I don't know if she cares for creature comforts, but I try. That seems to be the best I can do." A sigh, his long claws tapping along his upper lip.

Kurloz takes another sweet between his fingers, pressed to Karkat's warm, plush thighs; he can smell him through the minty scent, the far-off promise of burning spice.

The Grand Highblood returns his gaze to the two of them.

"Don't be sorrowful. The brightest stars always burn themselves out before their time."

 

As if on cue, a large rumbling moves throughout the city, and the ground briefly trembles, lurching before a bellowing explosion rockets out.

The sounds of a massive building crumbling into nothing pale in comparison.

"Gamzee should be back soon." The Grand Highblood comments, fluffing his hair.

"So!" He clasps his hands, a bright spark in his eyes.

"Gamzee tells me he's incredibly pleased with you. How are you feeling about him? Hmm?" He talks like a gossiping troll; like they're sat in the countryside just drinking some sweetened cider.

"Be truthful. I'd like to think I've entrusted him to the proper trolls, but he was never one for quadrants or crushes."

 

*

 

Being told not to feel sad just makes him feel worse (why tell him things like that and then tell him ' don't feel sorrowful ', like that's not going to make him feel even worse ), Karkat taking a quick breath; at the very least, the body isn't dead and that shouldn't be a relief because what about Xia?

Karkat wants to ask if he'd let him see her, but the question gets caught in his throat; he'll try and ask later.

He seems...a lot more lax than Karkat had been expecting-- Karkat had expected blame, still expects blame, since he can't really feel The Grand Highblood out the way he usually does when he meets someone. It's unsettling-- there's a solution but Karkat never wants to dip like that again.

The entire ground seems to rock and Karkat cracks a little, gripping the chair as the world seems to shake and roar-- a quake!!? It can't be, or can it?? The Grand Highblood seems especially nonchalant about the noise, like some sort of explosion, something big crumbling in the distance.

Gamzee returning is simply remarked about before the conversation turns to him and Karkat, the topic in particular being the last thing Karkat would have thought he'd be asked about by this troll. He's taken aback and somewhat miffed, The Grand Highblood's tone like that of one of the older gossipmongers-- and Karkat's on the receiving end.

"Th-That...," his cheeks start to tinge and Karkat wills the color away while trying to speak, "W-Well, I'm.....incredibly pleased with him, too...," unfortunately simply willing the red off his cheeks isn't enough and the color blooms, all the steadiness he'd been holding onto dissipating gradually (so much for mimicking Kurloz).

 

*

 

The Grand Highblood breaks into high, shrill cackling -- at Karkat, albeit not malicious in its tone.

"So modest!" He's able to speak once his laughter dies into an amused chirr.

"A Jadeblood really did raise you, if admitting affection has you going so red ." His gaze thins.

"Nothing like the mutt at your feet." He murmurs, and Kurloz raises his gaze to his ancestor.

"I can smell your desire from here, child. You reek. Are you going to spend your entire life yearning for Karkat from afar?" The way he addresses Kurloz has an acidity to it, although it isn't quite hate; he's needling the younger troll, pulling off some of the fluff with which he addresses Karkat.

He looks so much like him that it'd be impossible to be so cruel -- and, besides, Karkat's pitiful in his own right.

 

Kurloz, for his part, remains composed while offering up another sweet.

"Karkat finds me pitiful. I don't wish to come between him and his mate." He answers, speaking more into Karkat's bosom than to The Grand Highblood.
The older troll rumbles.

"Did you consider asking him permission?" He coos, as if Kurloz is a rather stupid pupa.

"No," he waves whatever thought Kurloz had been forming away, leaning back in his seat, "not him, I mean your blood-brother. What could it hurt to ask? If Karkat doesn't want you, you'll know as much."

"I don't like the idea." Kurloz murmurs, returning to his seated position.

"I don't like that He shared himself between you and another, and I don't like -- " The Grand Highblood snaps his fingers, cutting Kurloz off again.

"The Disciple comforted herself with lies that The Signless was simply too loving to reject me. I never 'shared' him, and I never intended to share him." When speaking about Karkat's ancestor, The Grand Highblood is much more clipped, and it's obvious he doesn't want to talk about it.

"But... this is different. You're my descendant and Gamzee's blood-brother. Besides, if Karkat already pities you, and Gamzee has no issue with it, then... But, I am rather old. Anyway," his gaze runs along Karkat's outline, up to his flushed face, "I'm sure Karkat doesn't like us talking about him when he's right here. It's rude, besides. How would you feel about it, Karkat? Despite his blood, Kurloz is just as capable as Gamzee."

 

*

 

He's well on his way to steaming if this keeps up. And it's not about admitting affection, he can say it to Gamzee just fine! ...and a little to Kurloz, when he asked.

He's surprised, that Gamzee's mentioned Kanaya, or at least that a Jadeblood raised him-- though he bets it's more likely he didn't really say anything nice about her (from Gamzee's end, there's probably not much that he would find nice about her), that would be the real surprise if he did.

The next thing has him confused, until his expression goes straight to growing shock; the fuck???

Were the words 'desire', 'yearning', 'Kurloz', and 'Karkat' really put together in the same sentence or had he misheard things?? Surely he misheard things, blinking a little too quickly like that would clear anything up.

N-Not that there's anything wrong with Kurloz! He's got some good sides to him, Karkat noticed that much while traveling with him. It was nice to talk to him sometimes, as nice as it could get anyway, and Kurloz at least humored him sometimes by talking about inane things, useless as they were to him.

His face only heats up more and more, quickly plucking the candy from Kurloz's claws before he can put it to his mouth (the next piece he does that with Karkat will take it and shove it through his mouth, see if he can stand it!), eating it anyway because he needs the sugar to process and deal with this.

Though in the midst of this, Karkat's supposed ancestor is mentioned; he doesn't like The Grand Highblood's hasty, snapped answer, more so on the basis that Karkat would like to believe his supposed ancestor Kankri was not the kind of troll who would lie like that, not from the way Meulin wrote him; the actual excerpt missing is Kankri's, and Karkat bet's there is none, considering how the Disciple scribed the tome as an account of him, them, and every one they've met.

That quickly goes away, when he's being addressed again, and Karkat is fit to steam the space in the room-- sure, he does pity Kurloz, because Kurloz is pitiable it's not like Karkat hasn't speculated certain what-ifs , yet the very thing being suggested is--

Karkat does go full blaring red then, being asked what he thinks (oh, now he's in the room, now he's there to add input to.... whatever this discussion was ), and the space around him is steaming (he'd feel bad for Kurloz if Kurloz wasn't part of the reason ).

Saying Kurloz is just as capab-- Karkat's not doubting that he's capable, this just isn't a conversation he has the ability to participate in.

Embarrassment is one thing, Karkat's so blatantly red-steaming he has to bury his face into his hands and sleeves, thinking up an escape route in his panic; hopping off the chair and blindly ambling in the direction of the door.

 

*

 

"No comment?" The Grand Highblood asks, watching the mutant pathetically try to walk toward the door.

"Well, I suppose if you had to choose, Gamzee's more desirable, anyways. His blood is the right hue, firstly." He teases, knowing Karkat won't be going anywhere even before the door opens.

 

Gamzee chirps in surprise, reeking of smoke and flame -- an undertone of blood -- upon seeing his mate.

Kurloz keeps his gaze averted, while The Grand Highblood rises, steadying the mutant by the shoulders.

"Surprise, Gamzee." He coos, keeping Karkat in a delicate hold.

"Your mate and I were discussing important matters, but it appears he's too delicate. The carnage outside would please him much more, wouldn't it?" A subtle reminder to shut the door, which Gamzee does without hesitation.

"Karkat don't like violence." He says, addressing the older troll casually.

"Apparently, he doesn't like sex, either," The Grand Highblood adds, bending to bring his lips to Karkat's red ear, "although we all know that's very much a lie , even if your 'shame-faced breeder' act is very cute." He releases the mutant with a quiet chuckle, sending him into Gamzee's arms.

 

Gamzee pulls Karkat close, stroking fingers through his short, soft hair.

"Don't tease the motherfucker too much, please." He's immediately hit by how soft Karkat is, more so than when they'd parted; how he smells stronger, thicker and sweeter. Gamzee has no doubt he could take Karkat into another block and have him, but he wants to maintain a semblance of self-control.

"I wasn't teasing." The Grand Highblood retorts.

"Well, he's all types of motherfucking flustered -- and it ain't every night a motherfucker gets his oculars up on a troll like your own self. He's probably thinking it's his time to die, or some shit." That gets The Grand Highblood chittering behind his hand.

"Don't worry. I won't let him die." He coos, turning to leave.

 

Kurloz is busy staring resolutely at the floor, shame-faced -- but Gamzee's attention is on Karkat, gently urging his mate to show his face with soft chirrs.

"Why're you out here, mate of mine?"

 

*

 

There's no way they aren't picking on him -- at least The Grand Highblood is -- and if Karkat could disappear into the floor he would right then and there.

Karkat doesn't even care about blood hues and what not, he's missing the goddamn point!

 

He supposes he shouldn't be surprised to hear Gamzee, face still buried in his hands as he's held in place from bumping around into things by The Grand Highblood, he did say he would return soon.

Though he's extremely unhelpful, whispering in his ear like that like he knew something he shouldn't (why did it always sound like that!?). Guided into Gamzee-- and it is Gamzee, even through the smoke and blood and Karkat not ready to uncover his face to see with his eyes, all the things that were just missing from Kurloz are right there --Karkat almost automatically presses himself into the embrace, the touch through his hair.

Karkat has to be coaxed and chirred out of his hands, heat radiating off of him as the red spreads down to his neck, creeping under the dress. Looking up at Gamzee a little sheepishly when he's asked why he's there, fidgeting with his fingers.

"..I..'cause I was followin' you..," meeting his eyes is a little hard with his face the way it is, "When you left you sounded...," his words stop up, unsure if that's something he wants to talk about, how Gamzee seemed intent on dying, or prepared for death. "...nevermind. I was just following after you, is all."

More like he and Kurloz got lost and it took them a long ol' minute to actually head in the right direction, but who's counting that?

 

*

 

Gamzee cups his mate's face, planting a soft, resolute kiss onto his plump lips.

"You shouldn't have gone and done that, mate of mine." He murmurs into Karkat's mouth, stroking his hair back from his face.

Kurloz is up with the glass of candied jellies, hurrying to put them back.

He looks somewhere between mortified and blank, likely trying to pretend nothing had ever happened -- but Gamzee can guess what The Grand Highblood brought up, and why he did it.

 

The Indigoblood leads Karkat into a smaller block, repurposed from an office into a respite block; with furs, curtained windows, and all the other necessary creature comforts.

"You're gonna wanna rest, ain't you?" He shuts the door behind him -- a novelty for him, the privacy almost surreal in its absoluteness -- and continues chirring, trying to calm down his flustered mate.

"At least Kurloz was taking care of you good 'nough that you're carrying well." He coos, laying a palm to Karkat's stomach.

"You smell like it. I ain't so sure any type of stink'd cover it up. Not that it's something to cover the fuck up; it's all types of miracles to me, Karkat."

 

*

 

"Last time you left me, you came back full of holes. This time you made it out like you weren't coming back at all," Karkat deadpans into cool lips-- he wholly intended to not say anything but for Gamzee to say Karkat shouldn't have come after him?

So what then, just let him go off to his possible death?

Good luck, buddy.

 

A glance at Kurloz before Gamzee tugs him into a separate block shows him trying to be busy; in the time that Karkat only had Kurloz to talk to, he's been able to pick up on a lot of things. Gamzee rambles and busies his hands when he's embarrassed, Kurloz might not ramble, at least not right now, but he's certainly trying to be busy; Karkat feels a pang of pity, given what he knows, but not enough to bypass his own mortification.

The red is slow to ebb off of his face but it goes nonetheless, Gamzee's chirring sounding so nice after not hearing him for, to Karkat, so long (after weeks catching glimpses of Kurloz where he could be Gamzee, may not even know that he acts like Gamzee in short bursts, just for Karkat to be reminded that he isn't).

"I've only been resting," Karkat says with half a sigh. Kurloz is probably the one who needs to rest the most, he thinks, having done most of the heavy work during their travel. He'd probably not been able to because of Karkat being a burden and bother.

He hums in agreement, bringing his hand over Gamzee's, "If I'd have gone by myself like I tried to, I probably wouldn't have made it-- well, no, I could've managed myself just fine, I think. Maybe not in mint condition but I could have made it just fine, you know...," probably not; if Kurloz wasn't looking out for him, Karkat probably would have died like a bumbling idiot, reluctant as he is to admit.

Some red returns, his sugar scent being noted-- was it that strong?? He knows it's heavier than usual, and maybe it's because he's a little desensitized to it, being when the other breeders of his village were carrying, sugar would permeate the ground even now that he thinks on it, it's a wonder everyone wasn't too jizzed up half the time. "You would think that. I could have been a beacon for trouble for all I know," Karkat says, not a single clue of how many trolls were smashed into a wall just for looking too long.

"....I've been learning some scripture, and Beforian...Kurloz was teaching me on the way.."

 

*

 

“I know.” Gamzee buries his nose into his mate’s hair, inhaling the faint scents of travel and dust; much stronger is that sugary-sweet smell he’s come to associate wholly as Karkat.

Never mind that Karkat’s been wholly associated with mine.

Hearing Kurloz has been teaching Karkat Beforian and scripture, Gamzee chitters, nosing down the nape of his mate’s neck.

“Then I can get my chatter on at you in different tongues, mate of mine?” He teases, claws dragging along the slight swell of Karkat’s stomach.

He’s not gravid, but there’s a slight difference to the form Gamzee’s been holding in his mind these past months.

The Purpleblood basks in Karkat’s scent, then sighs.

“Even if it took you some types of effort to get out here,” he murmurs, lips catching on hot skin, “I missed you real bad, Karkat. Real, real bad.” He pulls Karkat’s backside to him, lifting the hem of his dress, inch by inch.

“Your body’s changed. Somehow, mate of mine, you’re all softer than last time. Let a motherfucker get reacquainted with it?” He kisses and nibbles at Karkat’s neck, mouthing at the hot flesh just under the mutant’s jaw.

 

*

 

It seems like it's barely been a moment before Gamzee's already trying to press himself into his skin, breathe in as much of Karkat as he can.

"Only if you're not gonna talk dirty," Karkat emphasizes lightly, purposefully using Beforian, "I haven't learned any of that yet." Karkat knows enough to be respectful and hold a bland conversation-- he doubts Kurloz would have tried to teach him words like that.

Cool lips press over his skin, the starkness of their opposing temperatures made obvious along with a few others as Gamzee mouths words into his flesh. Shivering as he's brought back against his mate's solid frame, skirt slowly being dragged up his hips, Karkat is made aware of a very solid fact.

He'd gone nearly a whole perigee and some of travel without sex . Not even using his own fingers-- and how could he think of even doing that !? --, or doing anything more than gingerly testing how his aching chest felt in private. The thought hadn't occurred until just this moment ; it's amazing in the dumbest way realizing how horny he actually is.

He's actually for real horny and he was just being teased and acting like some virginal adolescent, how about that.

That Gamzee asks even when he's already well on his way to acquainting himself with new softness is endearing in it's own right, despite Karkat knowing full well how Gamzee tends to acquaint himself with his body.

"Nothing's even that different from last time you saw me," there's an extra amount of round pudge to his middle and his budding chest is certainly doing that (filled out just shy of being a proper handful but there's definitely something happening up there).

 

*

 

"Really?" The Indigoblood hums, finger slipping into the seam of his mate's panties.

"I think you got a lotta differences to you, Karkat ." He pulls at his mate's underwear, letting it snap back to his skin.

Gamzee's touch skirts his stomach, and he cups a pair of buds that now almost fill his palms.

"These weren't here last time I had you." He comments, gingerly kneading.

"You ain't touched yourself, have you? Not with Kurloz around -- or...?" He teases, squeezing harder before turning Karkat and planting a full kiss onto his lips, taking him down to the padded floor.

Gamzee, for his part, hasn't changed much. He's still the same lean, strong troll; being with his ancestor hasn't grown him into a monster.

Although, his hair could use a trim (and the same could be said for Kurloz).

 

"Motherfucker's so obvious in the way he wants you, Karkat." Gamzee pulls Karkat onto his lap, hands under his skirt, claws on his naked thighs.

"He didn't get my mate, did he? My mate didn't play with him, did he? Call him pitiable or nothing?" Karkat's skirts are pushed to his hips, Gamzee's fingertips stroking along his plush thighs.

"If," Gamzee starts, thumb sinking into the junction between hip and thigh, where he can feel the heat radiating off Karkat's nook, "he said I want you, would a motherfucker grant his request?" Gamzee asks the question in Beforian, slowly, denoting no specific quadrant; just the pure notion of want.

 

*

 

He'd like to chalk it up to it being a while since anything like this had been done to him (and not that Gamzee touching him is always going to do this to him, it has to wear off eventually).

How he skims along Karkat's body, how it does something funny to his head when cool palms grasp at soft flesh and squeeze , nerves tingling, responding to his touch.

"I..haven--!!" Karkat gasps into Gamzee's lips, easily moved and brought down to settle in his mate's lap, his pan already being muddled and he's barely been touched (in comparison to times prior), his mouth moving right along until they part.

Both Gamzee and The Grand Highblood say the same thing, talking about how Kurloz wants him-- Karkat would like to think he's a good judge of such things, considering what he reads, and in the time he'd traveled with Kurloz, he'd neither seen nor caught any such thing (and Karkat's not willing to entertain him being so utterly oblivious , so if it's really true at all, then Kurloz must have been really good at hiding it).

He could get dizzy just because of Gamzee alone, his head having a time coming up with the words he wants, "I didn't..don't think he wants me like that, either. Didn't feel that way," neither had Karkat called him pitiable-- it's true if he's not actually put it to words. Maybe thought it, felt pity at him, like Karkat's prone to (because Kurloz is pitiful, at the least).

Gamzee uses a word where the meaning sounds so intense , like so much more than what it'd translate to.

"I-I don't...," it's not something Karkat had even thought about until entering this building; he sort of got the notion that if Gamzee died then he'd be passed on to Kurloz, by Gamzee himself no less, which at that point Karkat hadn't really considered aside from thinking Gamzee had better not die.

That was then, his opinion of him was pretty low. Now, it's not a great idea, but it's not a bad thought either, with how he's gotten to know some of the other better. But Karkat's original point still stands. "I really ..don't think he feels like that. I'd have caught on to that while we were traveling," he'd like to think so anyway.

 

*

 

"And I," Gamzee chitters in amusement, "don't think you got a clue on how he feels." His touch lingers a while, teasing the mutant's pantyline, before he helps pull the dress off entirely.

They don't need it, and he doesn't want to worry about sullying it.

With more skin bared to him, Gamzee rumbles in appreciation, hands smoothing down Karkat's sloped shoulders.

"Motherfucker looks at you too much." Gamzee pulls off his own top, tossing it aside to be with Karkat's dress.

"Talked to you too much." He cups Karkat's cheeks, trailing his hands down over naked flesh.

"And," the tip of a claw circles a nub, and he watches it perk; repeats the process with the other one, "I can feel him . He's felt my want for you, but he's got his own lil' covetous corner, Karkat, where he thinks I ain't gonna take homage if he just... admires you. Protects you in my stead. He'll say it's all 'cause of our blood, but he wants to fuck you just as much as I do." He grips and kneads Karkat's buds, feeling their heft, the searing heat left in the palm of his hand.

Karkat's pusher beats through his left bud, and it's that bud which Gamzee cups and lifts.

"The Grand Highblood wouldn't mind discovering all the wondrous natures of you, neither." He murmurs, tongue flicking over a stiffened nub.

Experimentally -- considering last time, Karkat had, more or less, humored his exploration -- the Purpleblood kisses Karkat's nub, then takes it into his mouth and gently sucks.

It tastes just as sweet as the rest of Karkat's skin, although Gamzee's already noticed Karkat tastes even sweeter -- maybe as an incentive to protect him?

He hardly needs such an incentive, though, tongue swirling around the bud in his mouth.

It's partially a game; to see how long his mate will hold on to his rational thought. It never takes long once he's inside Karkat, but Gamzee wants to prolong their reunion.

 

*

 

Karkat lifts his arms for fabric to shift up and over his head, tinging red coming back down his neck. Aware too much of his body, of Gamzee's, putting an idling thrill through his bones as his mate eyes him up, smooths cool hands down to his chest.

Claws teasing around with budded nipples until they're stiff and making the flesh puff just so, before he's back to fondling the softness, grip firm on Karkat's chest.
He'd never thought Kurloz to have thoughts such as that, he barely gave off the feeling that he liked Karkat in general. It's hard to think much about it though, the way Gamzee plays with budded flesh, cupping one side up.

He's not really sure how he feels about knowing what The Grand Highblood to do with him either (Kurloz is enough of a shock, but their ancestor??? His brain wants to stop and think about it, if not for Karkat not letting it.
Gamzee is enough to deal with, Karkat sharply inhaling as his lips close on his chest, something coiling tight in his lower gut at the sight, the feeling. His mate is doing it on purpose, he feels, Gamzee's eyes on him as his tongue laves over budded flesh, heart thumping heavily in the gradual excitement.

"Y-Yy...," his lashes flutter, Karkat fighting the eagerness to push himself against Gamzee's mouth. Squirming and fidgeting in Gamzee's lap as sensation shoots through his nerves, all just from the bud being messed with like that.

"What're you gonna do if you do that and it ends up leaking?" he breathes, though Karkat's not so sure what he'll do about it either, he'd been ignoring it all while traveling.

 

*

 

"Mmh...?" Gamzee rumbles lazily, gaze fluttering to meet Karkat's -- and he's so red in the face, the colour spreading down his neck, bleeding into his chest.

The highblood comes off with a wet pop, tongue tracing his lips.

"I'd drink your sap, of course, love." Another Beforian term of endearment -- although Gamzee enjoys 'mate of mine', he has to be creative in Alternian.
With Beforian, he can be much more blunt.

Idly, he plays with the nub that was just in his mouth.

"Do you think I wouldn't take the sap my mate has to give me? That'd be like if you didn't take my material. 'Sides," he dips in for a kiss, fingers sinking into soft, supple flesh, "you taste so sweet already." He breathes into Karkat's mouth, their lips catching.

 

Finally, his attention moves elsewhere -- onto his mate's backside, his cool hands slipping beneath the fabric of his panties, cupping the mutant's ass.

He takes pleasure in pushing Karkat against him, forcing them flush.

"Even if I do allow Kurloz to paw at you, or The Grand Highblood bends you over and takes you, it's my grubling you're carrying." He shifts a hand between Karkat's cheeks, middle finger sinking into the cleft.

"I ain't so kind as to let them take your firsts, neither." He finds the mutant's hot centre and presses the pad of his finger to it harmlessly; a threat for the future.

"I'll fill your nutrient gash with my slurry, make you come on my bulge, and finish in your waste chute, Karkat." He purrs.

"You need something to compare 'em to, don't you? Someone to flush out their slurry when they're done with you. 'Specially Kurloz. His colour wouldn't look near so nice as mine on you, would it?" He retreats, sinking his fingers into Karkat's ass; shifting his thighs until they're wrapped around him.

His own breath is coming heavier, Karkat's scent almost overwhelming. He can't imagine what it'll be like when his mate is heavy with their grubling; whether or not Karkat will let him close.

"Can my mate touch himself for me?" The request is sudden but quiet, as if they're still in a tent of thin canvas and not a proper building.

"I ain't gonna do it. Not for a while, anyway. We're heading out tomorrow and I wanna savour you, Karkat, 'fore we ain't got so much privacy."

 

*

 

The very thought of Gamzee drinking his sap, right from his chest to boot, is one thing; that his mate entertains the thought himself pushes Karkat's blush further and further down.

Kissing again but this time Karkat's self-control is slack and he's too happy to press himself up into it, sharing breath while hands roam more along his body, Gamzee's tongue just faintly sweet. Letting out first a pleased chirr as he's pressed flush and tight and then a surprised chirp at how his ass is grabbed, digits sliding intimately invasively through the crevice, a single finger probing deeper to press right at him, Karkat's heart racing at the implication, bringing up the hypotheticals of Kurloz or his ancestor being in any way like that with him both put thoughts in his head that are hard enough to shake without Gamzee saying anything.

Gamzee purrs filth out like it's as sweet as any other declaration of love, and doesn't that just make Karkat flutter from the inside out, meltingly leaning into Gamzee as his plush thighs are brought to wrap around his mate.

He's asked to touch himself, Karkat raising a brow. They were heading out so soon? Or, well, soon to Karkat, who just got there, it had probably been a while for Gamzee and The Grand Highblood. Karkat considers the request a moment longer than he really needs, worrying his lip between his teeth, having already decided when Gamzee asked.

"....Alright," his voice is just as soft, like they're in a place where if either of them are too loud someone will know and hear and give them knowing, teasing looks in the evening. It takes some maneuvering to slide his panties off, lucky that they're not stained his red as they're tossed toward his dress.

Propped against Gamzee where he can look at him, Karkat smooths his own hand down his front, his hip, cupping just at his nook with curious fingers-- it's been a while, where he'd done anything to himself with his own hands, grazing over his plump slit, heated and puffy and just full of fresh slick. "....But you sound an awful lot convinced...that I wouldn't have any plans for you, that I wasn't planning on my own how to give my other firsts to you...," he hints, teases, keeping a steady half-lidded gaze set on his mate, flushing be damned.

 

*

 

Gamzee meets Karkat's lidded gaze head-on, an arm wrapped around the mutant, hand at the small of his back. Just keeping him on his lap. A familiar weight, a comforting warmth, and an alluring softness.

The highblood could purr at the implication, Karkat's hand moving out of sight.

"What kind of wicked ministrations was my mate thinking himself on...?" Gamzee ventures to ask, recalling the mutant's filthy mouth.

How he'd said he'd be able to imagine a bulge on himself; reciting the 'plots' of novels he'd hungrily devoured. Partially-sheathed bulges dribbling slurry. Abused lowbloods.

 

Gamzee's free hand cups his mate's cheek.

"I could fuck your cute lil' face," he starts, thumb tracing Karkat's plump upper lip, "or sit on your face and see what made my mate get all loose-limbed in that alley." Gamzee doesn't seem entirely intent on allowing Karkat to answer, or waiting for an answer, as two long, cool fingers push into the mutant's mouth.

He presses down on Karkat's tongue, feels up his fangs; smears his own saliva onto his lips with a smile.

"I don't even think you got to mulling on how to take me in your chute -- and, anyways, I'd wanna be the one to stretch you out, frond-by-frond, 'til you're crying and begging for my bulge." His saliva-slick fingers stroke Karkat's bud, and he tweaks a nub until it hardens once more.

"Maybe that's what I gotta do." He muses, rolling the nub between his index and middle finger.

"Get you all worked up, ready to spill your slurry... and leave my poor mate unfulfilled." His own nook throbs, bulge engorged behind its sheathe.

"Would you let Kurloz take you, then? Would you spread your legs for him and make pathetic noise at him? What's the motherfucking harm?" He tugs the nub, then presses into Karkat's breast, taking the full bud in his palm.

"So long as you stay my mate, satisfy me first and carry only my grubs, ain't nothing wrong with it. Anyway, ain't that how your stories go? Some poor lowblood gets shared 'tween a whole posse?" Gamzee keeps his voice low, eyes on Karkat, watching his mate's expression.

"Can't believe you read shit like that, but a couple touches from me and you're all flush. Least I got myself a good excuse -- ain't had the privacy, is all, to cram my fingers up into my motherfucking nook."

 

*

 

Karkat doesn't get much time to answer, beginning to open his mouth just for long cool fingers to slide in, rub against his tongue and glide over his pitiful fangs, spreading his own spit over his lips. His own fingers stroke slow and sensuous over his nook, just dipping into juicy slit every now and then.

There's something to be said about fingering himself, in that he hasn't done it in so long, his own touch familiar (knows how to handle his own equipment thanks to his older sweeps spent reading utter trash and filth, enough that he knows what works and what doesn't). There's something else to say about his mate watching while he does so, toying around with him and teasing him for his ideas.

Truthfully, Karkat had only thought about one part and not the other, using his mouth on Gamzee, whereas he'd neglected to give much thought on his backend. Not for any lack of..of wanting to, just because he really hadn't thought about it!

Gamzee hardly lets up, talking dirty and tweaking his chest as he likes, Karkat caught between answering and risking a lewd moan coming out instead of words, tittering from his throat and getting just a little hazy, listening to Gamzee spew such things while a wet squish is made from his own digits pressing into wet heat.

"So, I'll take that as you being just as sensitive?" If Karkat could manage mischief at all, that'd be the kind of look he'd have instead of cloudy-horny. "You mean you wouldn't let me do it my way? I wanted to do something good for you too, Gamzee, y'know...," he does manage a pout expertly enough, even a whine, "Didn't plan nothin' for my chute, but I had somethin' all thought out for usin' my mouth on you.."

 

*

 

"I'm sensitive." He affirms, affection lacing his deep baritone.

"I ain't never done what you're doing right the fuck now, not even when we was apart -- and it wasn't for lack of want. If anyone's gonna finger me, I want it to be you. If anyone's gonna do a single thing to me, I want it to be my love." He purrs, hand leaving Karkat's bud to trail down his arm.

He takes Karkat by the wrist, coaxing those sullied fingers out of his nook. The highblood meticulously cleans each digit, nerves tingling.

With a kiss to Karkat's palm, Gamzee shifts from beneath Karkat, getting to his feet.

The pit of his stomach clenches at the sight, his breath catching as he takes off and discards his pants, leaving the both of them as naked as the day they hatched.

The cleft between his thighs pales in comparison to Karkat's plump nook, but Gamzee could care less about that -- he feels a surge of nerves at the idea of being penetrated.

 

"You're gonna be good to me, ain't you?" He asks, sinking back to his knees.

"I ain't lying when I say I ain't never had nothing in my nook, Karkat." Although, remembering how it felt to be filled, when they were connected, makes him ache,  a droplet of lavender drawing down his inner thigh.

"I don't taste hardly so good as you do, neither." He adds, finally deferring fully to the mutant; leaving him with a quick kiss, Gamzee reclines, sinking into the soft fur beneath him.

His thighs are lax, tented; he's tempted to cover his face but knows he wouldn't allow Karkat to put his attention anywhere else but him. It's only fair he return the favour.

"Don't push yourself if I taste bad, a'ight, Karkat." His claws play in the wisps of soft Lusus fur; an awkward gesture. He doesn't know what else to do, doesn't even know where to look.

 

*

 

The way Gamzee can just switch like that from filth to genuine sweetness really swells Karkat's heart right on up, a smile beginning to squiggle on his face at such professions.

He really should expect it by now, that Gamzee would urge his hand free of his nook, coated in a layer of slick that's promptly lapped up off his digits.

Gamzee finally shucks himself of pants, putting them both as buck naked as the other, coming back down to lower himself in front of Karkat.

"Of course. You know I've got you..," he chirrs, cooing gentle sound as his mate relents to him. "I'll treat you real proper, yeah?"

He knows already, that Gamzee obviously won't be as pretty as a breeder, nor look as good as his own, but that's fine. His own exploration showed him as much, the differences in their bodies little more than obvious. When his mate is fully lowered, Karkat first leans over him to deliver a swift, meaningful kiss to his lips before moving back down to his spot, gingerly rubbing up and down Gamzee's thighs.

"Just let me take care of you, alright?" Karkat murmurs with all his sugar-sweetness, humming almost as his lips plant a trail down the back of a thigh. "Even if you're not breeder-pretty, if I had to say what a handsome nook looked like, this would be my first thought," he says, sucking gently at Gamzee's inner thigh, just at where his body would radiate heat if he had any; taking the opportunity to be bold and mouthing right over Gamzee's slit before his fingers take over, gone back to kissing the inner side of his thighs.

 

*

 

Hearing the word ‘handsome’, even in relation to his nook, has Gamzee flushing furiously enough to break through his greasepaint. He squirms, and lets out a small chirr.

“‘S embarrassing to have you down there.” He says, more so to himself than to Karkat — because he doesn’t hate it.
No, some part of him likes it.

He likes the way Karkat kisses down his thigh, even if the muscle is trembling beneath the skin. His thighs part just slightly, go a bit more lax, when heat mouths over the sensitive junction just beside his nook — and he gasps, chirping loudly, as Karkat’s lips touch his nook.

Cupping a hand over his mouth, his nook leaks. It’s flushed a deep purple, and virgin-tight.

His bulge wants to unsheathe but he’s not that desperate. Not yet, anyways. Karkat’s back to leaving trails of heat along his thigh, anyway, so Gamzee breathes out, eyelids fluttering.

“I love you so, Karkat.” It’s the only thing he can think to say that isn’t filth or begging.

 

*

 

Karkat tries and fails to hide a smug little smile, and maybe it is just Gamzee being new to something like this being done to him but he's awful prideful that he can make him like this. Chirping and flushed with his color while his nook drips and twitches under him.

"I love you so, Gamzee," Karkat returns sweetly, before his face shifts right back to mischief, "..but maybe don't say that just yet, since I ain't finished," Karkat purrs, features becoming downright salacious with the way he looks at his mate, a glint to his scorched eyes, "I'm gonna thoroughly take vengeance on you and you're going to love it, mate of mine," his tone lilts and sing-songs in a tease.

Exploring the softest part of his mate with careful strokes, being mindful of how Gamzee shivers from new touch in places he's never even touched himself, Karkat puts his all into his adoration. Mouthing down tensing inner thigh while his touch becomes more insistent, thumbing up and down the slit and sheathe and carefully pulling lower lips apart where the flesh reveals blatant, wet purple.

Probingly dipping inside-- and surprisingly Gamzee is almost warm, just enough to not be completely cold as he is, Karkat humming where his thighs joins his pelvis, just next to his nook. "You're so tight," he notes aloud, almost giddy with the discovery, heart still going just a touch fast, "Do you feel like this when you touch me?" It's really tight when after pressing over slicked flesh he adds in a second digit, stroking in drawn out scissoring motions; he has no bulge to stretch Gamzee out for, but it doesn't mean he can't indulge in the act of it (would have been real nice if he had the gall to order something like that from Vriska's catalogue-thingy; he left the flare thing she gave him in the caravan, so much for that).

In the same way Gamzee does, Karkat extracts his fingers, spreading purple slick between them as he locks eyes with his mate, deciding while he's still running on boldness to smear slurry right on his tongue. Gamzee ....doesn't taste bad, though he certainly doesn't have the same amount of sugar Karkat's does, reasons withstanding. It's a little.....he doesn't know what exactly yet, thinking as he draws his gaze back to his mate's nook that another taste might help him figure it out.

He can't lay on his front for obvious reasons, but Karkat can keep himself in position on his knees, head lowered back to kiss at Gamzee's nook, tongue swiping out over the soft flesh he pulls into his own mouth. One arm wrapped around a thing and the other has his hand pressed lightly but restrictingly on top of Gamzee's sheathe; Karkat has plans for his bulge too, once he's finished with his nook, tongue delving into dribbling slit to taste more of his mate.

 

*

 

Now, Gamzee knows how Karkat loses his mind.

If he were expecting a bulge to stretch him further — but Karkat’s fingers do a fine job, pushing into his walls and parting him. Gamzee warbles behind his hand, shifting his hips.

“What d’you gotta t-take vengeance for?” He asks, watching his mate lick his own slick off his fingers.

“Ain’t never done nothin’ to you.” He pushes back just enough to tease, although his mind blanks for a moment when he’s enveloped by heat.

His hips buck at the sudden intrusion, and he groans, thighs wanting to close around Karkat’s body.

“No f-fair...” The Indigoblood pants, almost writhing. The pressure keeping his bulge sheathed has him whining, grinding down against any friction he can get.

“‘S this how you feel?” He turns the question back onto his mate, chest heaving.

“‘S this how y’feel when I fuck into you?” A breathless chuckle that breaks off into another whine.

 

*

 

Karkat considers answering, making a loud pop when he pulls off of Gamzee's nook, purple on his chin and satisfied for the noise he can get him to make.

"Mmmh....For picking on me earlier, for puttin' my legs out of order...and I get you were kinda worried..of me, when you left but you didn't even tell me 'I love you so' before you went, and you had me all worried about you that I tried to come after you on my own. Just all a bunch of things that add up, you know?" He tongues a streak of purple off his lip, still smirking, "I should at least do this much, shouldn't I? Besides, you make such nice noises for me..."

That Gamzee even whines sends a thrill though him, Karkat planting his mouth right back to work on eating his mate out. He knows, probably, this will all probably get turned right back on him by Gamzee, if not when he's done then at a different time soon.

He whines again and it's such a satisfying sound, Karkat grinning when he glances up and there's a glaze of empty in his mate's eyes as he speaks, muffled through his nook, "That? That's it exactly."

Karkat wants him to come apart just like that, just like he's done to Karkat time and time again, fingers firm on Gamzee's sheathe while Karkat licks and sucks, moving to the top of Gamzee's nook, letting his tongue rub the flesh where his bulge sits, relentless with both that and his fingers.

Evidently, Karkat can't drink slurry down as quick as his mate can, the excess spilling down his chin, on his bare front, the sheer sensation he's witness to clenching his nook up tight. He swallows what he can and moves on, kissing gingerly at Gamzee's flesh and chirring sweetly for him. Under the hand not in his nook, Karkat can feel his bulge twitch and slide, needy for a way out. Good. He barely takes a breath before sliding his lips upward, moving his hand out of the way and lapping coaxingly over the sheatheslit, anchoring on Gamzee's thigh just to keep him steady and focused as he entices his mate's bulge into his mouth.

 

*

 

Producing slurry from his nook is an entirely different experience, body tensing while Karkat makes a mess of himself.

Although his head is fuzzy — or maybe because of it — cool fingers find their way into Karkat’s hair, gripping. Keeping him in place while his bulge unfurls into Karkat’s mouth.

Gamzee sits up, dazed, holding Karkat down as much as he dares.

“If only you had a bulge to fuck me, mate of mine.” He coos, Karkat’s mouth woefully insufficient for his bulge.

“I’ll get bored of your stubby lil’ fingers real quick — and ain’t that just unfair?” He guides the mutant off his bulge, letting the organ writhe over his mate’s face. His cheeks, lips.

“Y’get to enjoy my bulge all you want, but I just get your pathetic fingers. Can’t even swallow all my slurry.” He paps Karkat, lamenting his mate’s pathetic situation.

“Why don’t you come sit on my bulge?” He allows the organ to coil around the fingers of one hand, liberally coating the digits with his own lavender fluids.

“Pandead’s a better look on you, anyway.” He chuckles breathlessly.

 

*

 

At hands on his head, Karkat chirps in a slight confused panic-- he'd completely planned for Gamzee to indulge him a little more, at the very least not get up so soon. He doesn't even get the chance to guide the tip of his bulge down the right way before there's too much of it at once, bulging his cheeks and just missing his throat, brushing over nerves-- and doesn't that do something funny.

When he's pulled off by the grip in his hair, Karkat takes a deep gasp, lightly panting as the organ smears over his face; pouting once he can get some of himself together and nearly glaring at Gamzee. "T-Talk about unfair, I didn't even finish you...."

He's justifiably miffed, he thinks, that he'd been stopped before he could finish out his plan. Heck, he's got half a mind to get dressed and leave and just sit on outside despite the mess on his face.
Instead, he huffs and moves himself to Gamzee's lap, frowning and feeling like he'd been jilted almost. Worriedly glancing toward his fingers-- was it that bad? Did he get ahead of himself? Should he have just not done anything?

Fidgeting in Gamzee's lap while he overthinks things in his head. "...are my fingers that stubby...?"

 

*

 

Gamzee could almost laugh, if not for Karkat’s pathetic concern, taking Karkat’s cheeks in his palms.

“I was making fun.” He says, thumbs running over Karkat’s frown lines, smoothing out the worries.

“Your fronds know exactly what to do, and your mouth’s too good on my nook,” his breath hitches, a glob of cooling slurry making its way down his thigh, “I just... ain’t so used to being like that.” He meets his mate’s scorching gaze, hoping Karkat knows what he’s talking about.

He’s used to having control.

After all, he’s never been the one needing protection; even as a weak-legged pupa, he’d been able to get by on that desolate beach.

Letting another troll between his legs, never mind at his nook, isn’t something Gamzee ever thought would happen to him.

His arms slink around the smaller troll, his bulge curling lazily over a soft thigh.

“I’ll go back down if you really want it that much, Karkat. Won’t tease you, neither.” He dares to steal a kiss, tasting himself on Karkat’s lips.

It’s not as bad as he’d thought — although his only reference is Karkat.

“Not verbally, anyways.” He twists a strand of hair round his finger.

“You want it that bad?” A gentle tug, and he soothes his mate’s scalp.

 

*

 

How Gamzee makes fun has a tendency to hurt a little, and Karkat's familiar with it enough that some things bounce off, while others don't.

He gives a soft little huff, Gamzee teasing his hair before carding through it, Karkat chirring as he leans against him. Tilting his head up to look at Gamzee from under long lashes, his streak of boldness waning bit by bit.

"...I really, really missed you, you know? I missed you so much," he reiterates in Beforian, voice wavering almost to tears. "Been wanting to do something special like that for you anyway, and I thought now was as good an opportunity as any."

Though Karkat probably didn't think his idea as thoroughly as he thought he did, obviously didn't take into account how Gamzee might actually feel about him taking over like that (had made the assumption he'd be fine as punch with it).

Karkat's halfway between jumping at the chance to get back into it before he loses the confidence he'd built up for it, and just letting all the steam go out without seeing his idea through. Of course, it does flare some of his stubbornness to life.

"...Is that alright? I'm feeling real selfish right now. And I'd like to see for myself if I can't make you pandead."

 

*

 

A pleased little chirr slips from Gamzee's lips, his flush spreading at Karkat's Beforian.

It's horribly accented, but it's not just the words -- it's the effort, that Karkat's choosing to use Beforian as he does.

His pusher aches, and if Karkat asked him the world, he doesn't think he'd be able to deny him.

"I missed you, too, love." He returns, all but simpering, holding Karkat close -- and he tips them back, their entwined figures falling atop the plush furs.

"You're special on being my mate, and learning Beforian; putting up with all my moods. Wouldn't just any troll do that." He rumbles, the absolute picture of a perfectly pleased troll -- even if his bulge is still writhing between them, seeking out Karkat's heat and softness.

"If it'll please my mate to please me, then I'll lie back and let you deaden my pan."

His voice lowers, tongue tracing the seam of his lips.

"'Pparently, my nook's a real good way to get me pan-dead -- but I don't know what you wanna do with my bulge and your nutrient gash. Can only imagine, what with all the reference material you got stored up in your pan, mate of mine." And all the material Gamzee has stored away inside him; he'd felt pleasantly empty with Karkat around.

Without the mutant, for as long as it had been, he'd returned to that feeling of fullness deep in his abdomen.

Before Karkat, it had just been another sensation -- but, now, he much prefers the sensation of being emptied. It's lighter.

 

It's endearing how much this means to him.

"I'm still gonna empty myself into your nook. Hope y'know that." He purrs, carding a hand through Karkat's hair while he can.

"My shame globes been feeling full for a while, now, and you're seeming just as pent-up as me."

 

*

 

Karkat sighs, "I didn't even have the thought, that whole time." And now that it's been brought to his attention, it's like being hit with an entire literal perigee's worth of pent-up hormone and need, and it's a heavy sensation. He's not breeder-panned, not yet, this is completely different, and he'll tell himself that as long as he needs to.

"If that's you tellin' me you're all backed up, then I'm going to make sure to take care of you especially well," with that some of his earlier mischief returns, and Karkat butts his horns under Gamzee's jaw before moving himself back down. Briefly, he considers straddling Gamzee; Karkat would be all but flushed with the fact that his mate would end up only being able to see his nook while he put his mouth to his bulge, see him drool slime out of his pretty little slit. Perhaps next time, when Gamzee let him do this again (because he is going to let Karkat do this again, and he's not going to let anything deter that ). "I think you'd gush yourself silly if you knew about all my reference material."

This time, he simply leans over Gamzee's thigh, bulge curling over itself since he'd moved, taking his warmth with him. Karkat remembers the first time he'd seen Gamzee's bulge, had straddled it between his thighs and eyed over it's details. It's reactive immediately to the stroke Karkat makes along the length from the base, sliding over itself to wrap around his hand, seeking out something nice and warm to slither into, and Karkat knows that simply making a fist won't cut it.

Guiding the organ toward his face, Karkat's maybe a little too eager to part his lips, allow the barbed tip to glide in slowly, holding his mate firmly. His books make ignoring gag reflex sound easy, and it takes a few tries of hits and misses before Karkat can retain himself, now a little shaky as he lets royal purple bulge inch itself in.

There are bloody nerves and things that Karkat didn't know he had in there, and it becomes obvious as he lets out a short gag every now and then that he's probably going to leak his brain out of his ears before he can do anything for Gamzee.

With that, the hand not holding onto bulge smooths over his mate's skin, back down to slick gash, readily providing Karkat with slurry to push his fingers inside and work Gamzee back up to those nice noises he was making, while Karkat works on trying to reach the first set of ridge on his bulge.

 

*

 

"I gush myself silly over you." Gamzee mumbles, unable to help himself as he props himself up, watching his mate reacquaint himself with his bulge.

His bulge wants, initially, to curl itself inside Karkat's cheeks -- it almost feels like that vulnerable area beyond his mate's seedflap -- but the opening of Karkat's throat, that tight and wet heat, draws in the barbed tip of his bulge.

With a gasp, Gamzee falls onto his back. His arms stretch above him as he luxuriates in the sensation of Karkat's fingers; his throat.

Those little teeth are only strong enough to take off small chunks of his bulge, and he knows Karkat wouldn't do that.

Gamzee's head is thrown back, pressed into the furs.

"Deeper," he breathes, hips rolling as his bulge tries to stuff itself past Karkat's lips, and his nook tries vainly to milk Karkat's fingers, "take me deeper, Karkat." His long, lissome legs stretch, a tremor running along each; the limbs encircle Karkat, toes curling, heels digging into Karkat's backside.

 

A sharp gasp draws his attention, a high and bright chirp of surprise that comes from the doorway.

"Stay." It's not a question but a demand, and one to be followed; Kurloz, clutching a book in his hands, is wide-eyed and flushing furiously.

"Don' stop, Kar'at." Gamzee's lids flutter and he writhes.

Kurloz, for his part, tries to avert his gaze.

Gamzee just allows himself to openly pant, whining and gasping whenever Karkat hits a bundle of nerves just right.

"Karkat," he coos, trapping the mutant with his legs, " I lov' y'so. " He slurs in Beforian, fingers curling into the fur above his head.

"Show Kurlo' why I can' keep m'hands off you, breeder."

 

*

 

His lashes flutter every extra inch deeper he can get Gamzee in, wide-blown pupils threatening to roll to the back of his head until Karkat breaks himself out of it, tries to keep his focus; if his throat keeps playing tricks on him like that, nerves jolting pleasure straight to his nook, right up into his pan, his mind isn't long for this plane (damn, he really might as well be a sleeve at that point), making his own fluttered, muffled moans, weak chirpings as his tight throat spasms every slight movement, breath ragged through his nose.

And miss glancing up to see Gamzee's head thrown back, his arms stretched over his head? How his mate's legs wrap behind him and his body trembles under his skin? The way his nook pulls his digits in, the noise that spill from his mouth? Fat chance.

He should have expected even that his length would bulge prominently in his throat, and Karkat's tempted to let go just to drag his fingers over his neck, feel just how much his mate reaches, especially with those pretty lips of his just kissing the first set of ridges, pushing until that slips behind his lips and he hits the next set.

It's so soft inside Gamzee's nook, pleasantly cool and Karkat wishes more than ever he had a bulge to stretch him properly with, just so he could return the treatment back to Gamzee, give his mate that same overwhelming pleasure (well, it's a nice thought, but Karkat bets even if he had a bulge it'd pale in comparison; well, considering Gamzee's a virgin from his nook, he bet he could still do it, hypothetically).

 

He's not so pandead yet that he realizes the noise from behind him, about to pull off in his mortification if not for Gamzee's leg literally trapping him in, switching from the demanding tone, likely directed at probably Kurloz-- since Karkat can't imagine Gamzee speaking like that to his ancestor --to tell him to keep going, twisting under him, because of him.

The fact that there's now an audience frazzles his nerves and Karkat makes a feeble noise of protest before ultimately forcing himself further down.

Fine, then.

This was supposed to be, in a way, as Karkat had claimed earlier, vengeance, after all, as well as Karkat treating Gamzee. Fine, then.

Even with his reddening face, blush spreading quickly down his body, Karkat puts his all into taking Gamzee, buzzing as the sheerness of it sends that overpowering bliss up and down his spine; bent over and absolutely spilling, sticky dripping slurry running out of that puffy, pretty slit of his.

 

*

 

Gamzee chuckles breathlessly, bucking his hips once, sinking down onto Karkat’s fingers.

“No noises like that, slurry-sleeve.” He cups his own face, watching Karkat work on his bulge.

Even without being able to see his nook, he knows the breeder is enjoying it.

“No upset noises. You’re gonna ‘dore it. Promise.” He coos, lids fluttering as his head falls back, and his own claws lightly scratch at his throat.

“Kur’oz,” he murmurs, hearing the older troll, feeling him, “take off your gloves ‘nd finger my mate. I know he’s drippin’. Lil’ well-trained slut he be.” The highblood chitters, the sound breaking off into a moan.

His legs are still wrapped around Karkat, his nook weeping, bulge thrashing in the confines of Karkat’s tight throat.

 

With a liberal amount of hesitation, Kurloz places down his book, and peels off his gloves.

He’s tinged purple to the tips of his ears, his own nook throbbing — he’d never imagined Gamzee would let someone do something like this to him. His eyes are lidded, his pupils blown wide, while he writhes under Karkat.

The older Indigoblood gets behind Karkat, gingerly cupping the mutant’s sex in his hand.

He gasps silently at the heat of it.

“Don’ let him come.” Gamzee purrs, just as Kurloz has begun to work a finger into Karkat’s sopping hole.

“If he comes?” Kurloz asks, working the finger in to the third knuckle.

“I’ll punish him — won’t I? Though... he’d prob’ly like it.”

 

*

 

Karkat ain't exactly convinced but he can't really voice anything either; hard to talk much while swallowing thick bulge. After this though he probably won't be able to look Kurloz in the face, if look at him ever without remembering that he's seen him like this.

Nevermind that Gamzee tells Kurloz to finger him, and the only reason Karkat doesn't make a sound of complaint is for that very moment being overruled by a more active thrash in his throat, hitting something that blanks him for a long, unnecessary moment; pupils fluttering under his lashes until pieces of sense come back-- and not for long either, body jolting in place as cold palm carefully slides against his dripping, plump nook.

Just manages to stave off a moan, from wanting to squirm or move too much just because of a finger-- Kurloz's hand, Kurloz's fingers --, sinking himself further down on Gamzee's bulge with purpose, past the next set of ridges and groaning from that, drawing circular patterns around soft nookflesh, pressing assault at the spot that sits under Gamzee's bulge.

He could get mad again, because his ears still work and Gamzee more or less is denying him release being a jerk, promising punishment if he does-- just for that, Karkat digs in a little more harshly into that spot, highly sensitive being right under where the bulge root probably sits, before going back to a tamer pace. Drooling from both his mouth and his slit, trying and failing for his tight little hole not to clamp so much around Kurloz-- Karkat not sure if he still feels so bad for him at all, currently anyway.

 

*

 

Gamzee warbles, gasping, hips bucking as Karkat pushes into the root of his bulge and his mind goes blank; his claws dig into the rugs underneath him, and his eyes are glassy.

“Mmnh... what?” Lust laces his voice, drags his natural baritone deeper.
He pulls in a refreshing breath.

“Y’think I bel’eve y’don’ like it? You’re an ‘ttention whore. Bulge-whore. All I gotta do’s touch your ‘nd you’re ready t’fuck.” Kurloz continues steadily fingering Karkat, while Gamzee’s breath grows laboured, his bulge and nook dripping.

“Y’might be smart, but you’re still a breeder, Kar’at. Even jus’ suckin’ me off’s got your pan dead ‘nd your nook soaked.” Filth pours easily from his lips, even as he humps his mate’s face, growing increasingly desperate.

His taunting turns to keening whines, repetitions of his mate’s name — he slurs Beforian and Alternian together until his muscles tense, bulge swelling, nook clamping down hard on Karkat’s fingers.

Then, he rhythmically rolls his hips, gasping, lids fluttering. Shot after shot of material goes right down Karkat’s throat, then covers his throat; his nook weeps thick material, trying to coax Karkat’s fingers like it were a bulge.

Gamzee whimpers, cheek pressed into the furs below.

“I love you, Karkat. I love you so much it hurts.” He slurs, collapsing all at once.

 

*

 

Karkat would roll his eyes if they wouldn't stay like that. Roll his eyes and be a complete, smarmy, smug little idiot about it; sure, maybe Karkat is a bulge whore, is still just a breeder, and a breeder slut at that, what with all the filth he's read, all the things he's imagined and filed away into his head.

But it's this breeder bulge-slut that's making his mate look, sound, and feel like that, shamefully red-faced and drunk off the shock of sensations in his throat as he is.

Even, in his head anyway, admitting that Kurloz is unnecessarily good enough with his fingers that even more heat steadily pools and brims, coiling tighter and tighter in his core.

Unfair. Entirely unfair.

After saying all that, Gamzee's worked into a mess until he spills -- spills and pumps it all right down Karkat's throat, freezing up as his nerves razz up, Karkat gasping sharply only for bulge to swell thickly within his throat, make him feel every load of slime as it goes down his gullet, ridges hard in his mouth and lashes fluttering. Nook squeezing on his fingers, Karkat having crammed three inside which are still rubbing out his mate as tight flesh tries to close and pull him deeper.

His own nook clenches up, tightly on Kurloz, his entire body quivering, pleasure cresting up and up but falls without reaching anything, Karkat gasping through his nose and whining.

He'd return such sweet words normally but his mouth is a little more than preoccupied, slowly, half-reluctant and half-seriously too out of his pan to make himself do it, inching off of thick bulge to free his mouth up. Just for his words to come out a garbled, purple drooly mess, breathlessly butchering his way through a repeated "I love you so" and "Gamzee".

 

*

 

"Ah," Gamzee chirrs, blearily propping himself up, pushing on weak limbs until he's sat, "y'made a mess."

Karkat looks good like this; smeared with light lavender and splashed with thick, dark purple. Even the drool clinging to his lips isn't red but purple, his poor mate gasping for air.

Streaks of purple run down his mate's chest and it's there, with a lazy and fumbling grip, Gamzee smears his colour; he grabs a bud and massages his slime into the mound of flesh, kneading and squeezing.

 

"Ku'loz." He intones, the older Indigoblood seemingly catching on; hoisting Karkat up, and into his lap.

His long-fingered hands spread the mutant's thighs, breath hot and heavy in Karkat's ear.

"They're right." He confesses quietly, sunk into the stench of these two trolls -- and it almost smells like him. Almost.

"I've been thinking terrible things about you for a long time, Karkat." His hand creeps between Karkat's plush thighs, spreading the outer lips of his nook wide.

Gamzee chirrs drunkenly, Karkat's innards glistening.

"See?" He gets on his hands and knees, leaning into Karkat's space, a breath away from kissing him.

"Now, does my mate wanna be filled? Y'can come all y'want on my bulge." He coos, thick bulge curling around his own thigh, clearly nowhere near out of material to give.

 

*

 

He wants to point out that this is all purple, and therefore not Karkat's mess. Instead, a buzzy chirr starts up as Gamzee massages slick into a mound like he's trying to get it to stain -- Karkat bets that'd be just perfect for Gamzee, if Karkat was stained with his color (if he wasn't already on the inside).

Making breathy chirps as Kurloz drags him up and onto his lap, long cold digits splaying over his thighs and pulling him open; confessing, quiet and heated, in his ear and Karkat can't even help his own spine from shivering-- can't even think of anything to say to that, just leans against his wan but still solid frame for support, breath shaky as long digits spread the plump, flushed lips of his nook, wet and absolutely glistening with his red, drooling syrup out, smeared over his inner thighs and Kurloz's hands. His scent is the strongest right there, dribbling sweet fluid and sugar scent out heavily.

He's sharing air with Gamzee as he leans in, so close if Karkat just leans up that extra bit they'll be in liplock, Gamzee will taste himself on Karkat's mouth probably.

Being asked if he wants to be filled, and hearing that Karkat realizes he does, nodding despite his incoordination. He's leaking almost nonstop, still dripping and quivering, his throat still spasming. He'd gotten Gamzee to gush twice, he at least wants one time out of this-- if Gamzee seriously leaves him like this Karkat will go on strike -- doesn't know how or with what but for fuck's sake he will!.

 

*

 

"My poor mate." Gamzee coos in Beforian, taking his bulge and guiding it to Karkat's hot, open centre.

The writhing organ sinks almost halfway into Karkat, past the first ridge. His mate is still incredibly tight, although he's leaking so much that, rolling his hips, Gamzee's able to bottom out fairly quickly -- and isn't that a fantastic sensation after a perigee of abstinence?

The younger Indigoblood takes over from here, rocking Karkat's weight onto his lap, his bulge. With his own limbs loose, he's rocking into Karkat, panting.

Kurloz is hardly dismissed, however.

Gamzee's hands sink into Karkat's ass, his grip guiding his mate along the ridges of his bulge.

"Kurloz..." his voice -- his coherence -- is slowly returning to him, "get your bulge out and use him." He mouths over his mate's ear and jaw, rumbling deep in his chest -- so different from the high, warbling noises he'd made on his back.

"Y'could slip your bulge right 'tween his cheeks -- and it won't even go in. We ain't got so far, yet -- have we, Karkat?" Gamzee teases, exposing his mate's hole, rubbing a teasing finger past it -- then returning to holding Karkat atop his lap, rocking him.

 

Past the point of shame -- and because Karkat can't see him -- Kurloz lifts the hem of his shirt to his waist, lowers the waist of his pants, and forces out his bulge with a muffled sigh.

He doesn't get that much privacy for long.

"Come show him." Gamzee purrs, eyes lidded, pupils blown.

"Show my mate what's gonna paint his back your putrid colour."

Only hesitating a moment -- head almost spinning -- Kurloz gets up, and steps into view of Karkat.

The bulge twisting around his hand is about the same length and girth as Gamzee's. Smoother. Definitely brighter. Along the top and bottom, however, are small flaps which, when pulled back, ooze his bright slime.
Gamzee mouths at his mate's neck.

"How's it look, Karkat?" He sucks at the skin, leaving behind little nips and bruises.

"'F you say it looks better'n mine, I'll make you pay."

 

*

 

Karkat's breath skips, the first inches of length slithering right in and opening tight flesh-- it's been too long since he's felt this. In all that time without Gamzee, he'd guess it'd given his body time to right itself completely, to where it's like he's almost new to being split open all over again, shaking by the first ridge.

Or maybe he is getting breeder-panned.

Not that it halts anything, Gamzee being sure of that as he brings Karkat on his lap, pushing up where his still-thick bulge presses and writhes against cervic wall. He's even beginning to go lax, expression slack and wanting to curl his arms around Gamzee's neck.

His mate's grip sinks into the flesh of his backside, Karkat squeaking and chirping as Gamzee bounces his hips like that, bottoming out and making slight, wet slaps of noise, skin meeting skin. Tensing tight and mewling as a digit pushes inside his virgin pucker, the sensation strange and oddly pleasant, razzing up new nerves (Karkat's not even fingered himself there, he'd wuss out whenever he'd tried; that's not to say that he's never imagined how it'd feel to have something push into his chute).

That Gamzee invites-- orders, is probably more apt --Kurloz to take himself out and use Karkat makes his body shiver and he's not quite sure from what exactly-- pulling the firm flesh of his ass to show off to his blood-brother doesn't really help, either. He'd been sure that he hadn't thought about Kurloz that way, not really, but now?

Telling Kurloz to show him makes him thankful that he can't get any more red. Karkat doesn't have many references for bulges, as far as seeing with his own eyes go (imagination doesn't count, no matter how disgustingly detailed words from a page are) but Kurloz has his slackened attention.

If Karkat, gutter-brained as he is right now, held both in front of him it'd be pretty solid that they're both related, even down to bulges too. Kurloz doesn't have solid ridges like Gamzee, pulsating flaps though the flaps look like they'd stay stiff enough to act like it if they flared out fully. Other than that, they might have been the same.

Gamzee asks him how it looks, threatens him with punishment if he says it's better than his and Karkat briefly thinks about doing just that just to rile him.

"P-hhay hhow...?" He especially can't think with Gamzee mouthing at his neck, sucking over his throat and nipping lightly, warning, at the flesh. "...y'look almos' 'ssamme....!" That thick bulge thrashes, Gamzee's tip forcing the seedflap to let him in.

 

*

 

Gamzee rumbles deep in his chest, latching onto and sucking at Karkat's pulse-point.

The mutant is almost virgin-tight again, although he's far from virginal -- and Gamzee knows he can stretch quickly, accommodate his length and girth without too much fuss.

Kurloz, bulge lazily twining between his fingers, offers a breathless puff of laughter.

"You're too pan-dead, Karkat. I'm surprised you even remember any Beforian right now." He lightly teases, moving back behind the breeder.

Gamzee pops off Karkat's neck with a satisfied noise, removing the tip of his digit from his mate's backside.

"Relieve yourself all of your garments. My mate likes skin-on-skin. Even with someone like your own disgraceful self." While Kurloz undresses -- his similarities to Gamzee only continuing -- the younger highblood coaxes Karkat into a liplock.

His tongue roams his mate's mouth, and he swallows every warbling chirp and trill Karkat has to offer, while Kurloz settles down behind him.

His cheeks are spread and that thick, cool bulge first roams over Karkat's thigh.

Gamzee growls, a warning, when the organ gets too close to his mate's nook.

Settling his bulge between Karkat's cheeks isn't quite like a nook -- but, how would Kurloz know that? He shudders, falling easily into rhythm with Gamzee, as if he'd just penetrated Karkat -- even though the mutant's backside would never take him.
Not like this, anyway.

The pace Gamzee sets is slow but intense; his ridges audibly pop in and out of Karkat, the mutant's nook squelching. He can feel Karkat's wetness drip down his own thighs.

Kurloz's bulge slicks up Karkat's backside liberally, and the ridges along the underside of the organ scrape teasingly at Karkat's hole whenever he thrusts forward, leaving behind a dollop of slime to be spread around.

"Y'gonna come on m'bulge, Karkat?" Gamzee purrs, holding Karkat to him while Kurloz caresses the breeder's hips, thighs; occasionally a hand rounds his stomach and sharp claws are dragged lightly over the resting place of Karkat's grubling.

 

*

 

He'd like to argue that he's not pan-dead yet-- he's totally pan-dead right now, but it's hard to do anything but make pathetic little noises for how Gamzee seals his mouth at his throat, right over where his pulse is strongest; Karkat can feel him suck at the spot, feel his own heartbeat race up for it, pulse under Gamzee's tongue, fangs just grazing the skin.

It's hardly fair for Kurloz to tease him, being that Karkat can barely think right, groaning when Gamzee releases his neck, that loud wet pop sounding so nice, moving right up to take Karkat's mouth.

He can't see Kurloz, now behind him, but he's willing to bet if he saw the both of them naked and bare-faced they'd almost be the same, almost be like twins.

But Karkat can feel, feel Kurloz smear over the back of his thigh, bulge not even getting to wander close to his nook before Gamzee growls and his blood-brother handles his length to slide up the valley of his ass-- and that kind of hits different, the slow realization that this is starting to look like a scene out of his dirty, smutty trash books (two highbloods and one lowblood? Check, bonus if they're Purple).

Gamzee takes the pace harder, making sure to press deep to where Karkat's pan blanks out, coiling tighter and tighter in his core. Even Kurloz, while he's not inside Karkat, the way those flaps go rigid when he slides up nearly digs against the sensitive flesh of his unused hole; oozing fresh, cold slime on his skin, fingers smoothing over plump, plush flesh, even at the slight round of his middle, and Karkat can't even find it in him to want to snap or hiss, too used to Kurloz to feel like doing either; well, not used to him like this .

His mate pops free from his lips, Karkat panting and tittering, breathless as he tries for words that make some kind of sense.

"'M....n h g-gonna..'m c gh ...comin nngh --!!" He nearly wails, that tight thing bursts open, Karkat's red gushing down Gamzee's bulge, his lap, ridges scraping sensitive nerves and prolonging the sensation, Karkat tense and quaking with a grip on his mate, even to his rear, down to curling his toes; absolutely making that bliss-blank face as his climax peaks.

 

*

 

Karkat's climax is exquisite, the sheer heat of his mate's slurry gushing onto his thighs enough to have Gamzee groaning quietly in appreciation.

It's enough to get Kurloz to climax -- virgin that he is -- bucking while Karkat's blissed-out. His bulge swells and throbs, the older highblood burying his face in the nape of Karkat's neck to muffle himself while he covers the mutant's backside in thick slime.

Too bright to be truly Purple, but too dull to truly be Violet.

 

 

Gamzee, in comparison, doesn't release -- although he feels his gut coiling, heat collecting deep in his stomach.

"What a good breeder, tryin' to milk me like that." He coos, pulling Karkat in for a kiss.

Kurloz is panting, pulling away -- until Gamzee breaks the kiss and chirrs, prodding Karkat until his mate lifts his behind as best he can.

Gamzee helps out, nuzzling his cheek sweetly to Karkat's own.

"He can take us both." Gamzee murmurs, just loud enough for both trolls to hear.

Kurloz, bulge still out, still dripping, shakes his head.

"The grubling -- "

"My lil' grublin's fine. We ain't gonna reach in there. Now," he coos, angling his mate's hips to give his blood-brother that much better of an angle, "let's see if he can take two highbloods, my lil' breeder."

 

With a shaky breath, Kurloz is back behind Karkat; his bulge coils eagerly around the base of Gamzee's own before traveling upward, finding that tight, wet heat.

Given how stuffed Karkat already is, it's amazing that the tip can even slither inside -- and Kurloz can't look away from it, a violent shiver running up his spine at the sensation.

His blood-brother's cool, slick bulge and Karkat's burning nook.

Leaving Kurloz to, essentially, hold Karkat's hips and work in his bulge -- which is slow-going, at best -- Gamzee lowers his head and grabs a bud, sucking on the plump flesh.

Even with a layer of his drying material, he can taste Karkat's underlying sweetness; feel him ripening for their grubling.

 

*

 

The last times Kurloz has been behind him have been to restrain him one way or another; Karkat thinks he likes this the best out of those. He can't quite see the color of the slurry liberally spilled on his backside, and really all he can register right now is Gamzee bringing him forward, taking his lips again, murmur praises.

Kurloz hardly gets to pull away, Gamzee breaking off from Karkat to nudge him to lifting up, panting heavy in exertion as he brings Karkat up his length.

Eyes going as wide as they can manage, hearing Gamzee say such a thing.

"Ghhamz...," Karkat can't even get out his name properly, quivering as Gamzee holds him up and issues another command for Kurloz.

Two? At once?? Karkat can barely handle Gamzee on his own, getting bliss-blanked after one romp, but both?

He doesn't get a chance to refuse or anything else, Kurloz obeying and his own bulge twists around Gamzee's, Karkat's mouth slowly dropping open-- two, there's two inside him --as he's gripped by the sensation alone, stuttering incoherence about him breaking open until he is, quaking all over at the sheer stretch of both their bulges fitting into his feverish tightness.

Kurloz works more of himself inside, Gamzee gone back to playing with his budded chest, mouth closed on a nipple again while Karkat twitches in his blood-brothers' hold, taking both without much real issue-- because Karkat is meant to take even this; and it's becoming more and more his books by the second.

 

*

 

If Karkat weren't carrying his grub, he thinks he'd slam his mate's hips down, forcing him to take both bulges without complaint.

Or, rather, with high-pitched, incoherent wailing.

Luckily for Karkat, he's carrying -- and Kurloz is careful, slow, easing himself halfway into Karkat with shallow thrusts before he begins to lower the mutant.

"You're tight, Karkat. " He murmurs in Beforian, Gamzee releasing Karkat's abused bud to breathlessly chuckle.

"My mate's so pan-dead, he ain't even gonna know to speak." Gamzee gives a sharp thrust, rocking the breeder back onto Kurloz; who gasps, and bucks back instinctively, buried to the hilt.

Feeling Kurloz inside Karkat is surreal, the flaps of his bulge catching and dragging both on his own and on Karkat's inner walls. The tip of his bulge has a double-barbed end, perfect for spearing past seedflaps and raking the innermost walls.

Again, it's not long before Kurloz is panting -- and, this time, Gamzee has him hold Karkat flush; cup his buds and play with his nipples.

It's Gamzee who brings him to orgasm, bucking roughly; their bulges sliding together in Karkat's tight, velvet-soft heat.

The older Indigoblood moans and chirps into Karkat's neck, crying out the breeder's name when he comes.

Gamzee sinks himself to the hilt, feeling Kurloz's bulge engorge and throb, pulsating rhythmically as he empties himself into the mutant. Painting his depths with his colour.

Kurloz is just about ready to collapse, a quick click from Gamzee forcing him to stay upright.

"I ain't come, yet." He murmurs, pulling Karkat into a deep, messy liplock.

"Make your mate come, Karkat." He demands, chirring and cooing -- because that's more likely to register to Karkat.

At least, in this state, anyway.

 

*

 

Karkat, in fact, is unable to speak any kind of words that would be considered actual words, Kurloz earning fluttery moans until Gamzee thrusts and Karkat squeals for it, both highbloods showing through his middle in a writhing mess, Karkat being moved between them.

He's so stretched, Gamzee's own girth and ridge by himself is already enough to have his pan leak right on out of his ears; with Kurloz and his flaps scraping right up nerve-lined walls, doubling what Karkat usually deals with, he's mindless with drooling pleasure.

They move in tandem inside of him, it feels, and Karkat is only blissed out to high heaven, spilling noisy, gasping sounds, trills and chirps. Buried right to the root and making sure Karkat is insensate, half-babbling nonsense between biting his lip and moaning. At some point, all of his weight had been shifted onto Kurloz, back flush against his front and cool palms for budding mounds, the ache in the flesh making it even more sensitive-- he'd worry about leaking sap if he wasn't so literally occupied by other things and he can't believe he's feeling more and more like he's read this exact thing before, is now living it right before his eyes.

One bulge swells up thickly-- Kurloz --and Karkat groans when he can feel every throbbing pump of his slime being emptied, right inside him, trembling on the crest of another release. Kurloz is buried into his neck, chirping and moaning, calling his name even, and maybe it's Karkat being braindead on pleasure-high mixing with his soft, mushy heart, but he thinks him sweet for it.

He's still sandwiched, for lack of a better term, between the two, Gamzee bringing himself in to take Karkat's lips, swallow up his incoherence and noise. Karkat can only move sloppily with his mate, uncoordinated and swapping spit more than anything, breathing in the demand and bucking his own hips with all the movement he can manage, flesh still clamping tight as a vice to wring the both of them inside him.

 

*

 

The uncoordinated, pathetic bucking of his hips would be adorable if Gamzee didn't want to hold Karkat down and ravage him until he's permanently braindead -- and isn't that a thought.

One for later, as he moves with his mate, and feels that tight coil of heat threatening to burst.

Gamzee grabs Karkat's hips and fucks up into him, his claws digging deep into plump flesh; he plunges himself deep and shudders violently, unable to breathe or think for the first few moments.

Then, he gasps, forehead pressed to Karkat's own; hips gyrating as he spills a perigee's worth of pent-up, thick material inside his mate.

 

Finally, after all that, they stop.

He wants to keep pumping his seed into Karkat, wants to show him how stupid he was to try going off alone and how glad he ought to be in arriving safely -- but he's tired, and he's not sure how much more his poor mate can take.

Kurloz pulls out slowly, bulge receding into its sheathe; it's almost as if he'd never been there for how Karkat closes around him.

"Go..." Gamzee hugs the mutant close, bulge clogging up his fat little nook.

"Go... get a tub of hot water... and some rags." He demands, but it comes out more a request; Kurloz slips from the block still naked as the night he was hatched.

Now, all of Gamzee's attention turns onto Karkat, his claws carding through his mate's soft, fluffy hair.

"Y'did wondrous, mate of mine," He coos and chirrs, "precious mate of mine."

 

*

 

His body seizes up once more, Karkat gasping sharply as Gamzee holds him down, buried so deep he could have sworn every gush of thick, virile slime goes straight up to his brain; what Gamzee spilled from his nook earlier and what'd been pumped down Karkat's throat isn't anything compared to now-- backed-up was more apt than he'd have thought.

He's so full, Kurloz had already come inside and Gamzee hardly holds back when he does, no exemption this time around, full of bulge and getting stuffed by load after load of slurry. By the time it slows to a stop, Gamzee gasps with his release, touching his brow to Karkat's.

Kurloz's bulge eventually draws and slips out, Karkat not having the energy for anything more than a slight hitch of breath at how it drags on the nerves.

After all of that, Gamzee collects him off of his blood-brother, the elder Indigo extricating himself from behind Karkat-- and yet he's still so stretched around his mate, there's hardly any difference and only a smidge of relief for his abused nook. His own limbs feel feeble and like he doesn't know how to use them, clinging onto Gamzee and nudging his face under his jawline, into his neck.

Kurloz is sent out, and Gamzee holds him tighter, cooing soft affection and praise, Karkat chirring back in exhaustion, pan still fried and now beginning to feel the ache of his whole body protesting the abuse and strain it's been put through. The most for words he can manage is, honestly, none, since the nonsense sounds he's making back at Gamzee don't actually mean anything aside from Karkat trying to garble in Beforian slurred 'I love you so''s.

 

*

 

It doesn't take Kurloz long to return with a basin of hot water -- hot to them, anyway, but it steams, nonetheless -- and a pile of cloths.

He'd also taken a quick moment to clean himself and, knowing his place, dressed quickly while Gamzee slowly lifts Karkat off his bulge.

The mutant's nook sucks at his ridges, each one sending a shiver up his spine until the organ is back inside Gamzee -- and Karkat's nook is an angry red, used and abused.

His backside is coated liberally in semi-sticky slime, too.

He chirrs to himself, dipping a cloth into the basin.

"I ain't gonna clean your mess." He mutters to Kurloz, the older highblood dropping back behind Karkat, peeling off his gloves to wet another cloth.

Gamzee starts with his mate's face -- his adorable round cheeks and plump, soft lips -- gingerly working away his material. By the time he's at Karkat's neck, the water's been stained a light lavender.

He's extra gentle when handling Karkat's buds, massaging away his slurry.

Behind him, Kurloz works down the length of Karkat's spine, taking care with his ass; he murmurs a faint apology when delving between the breeder's cheeks, touch light.

By the time they've cleaned up just half of Karkat, the water's a dark, rich purple, and the rags are all sullied.

"We gonna need more." Gamzee intones, absently caressing his mate's swollen stomach.

Kurloz takes that as the cue it is; to go get more clean water and more clean rags.

 

*

 

Karkat buzzes and shakes when Gamzee leaves him, ridges scraping overstimulated flesh on the way out until he's free with a lewd, obscene, shlick, gasping lightly. Muscles giving in to the occasional twitch and he's sure his nook is weeping out a mix of purples and red (he took them both, he wouldn't be surprised if he's even gaping for a little bit).

Fighting between keeping himself conscious or just passing right the fuck out and letting that be that until he wakes. Really the thought of just going to sleep on Gamzee is starting to sound more and more enticing, even with all the drying slick on him starting to feel gross. The water helps, keeping him awake and soothing some soreness away, dazedly pushing his face into Gamzee's hands as his mate gently smooths the wet cloth over his flushed and painted skin.

Kurloz is careful in handling him, wiping down his back he feels like the elder Indigo came much more than Karkat initially thought, or he's just really thorough. Doesn't really have much in him to react other than a light sound when even down the valley is cleaned.

He must be coated that they need more water to wipe him down with, a quick, bleary glance at the basin and heck that's a lot of purple, Karkat really did get used the fuck up like a bucket toy, holy shit.

Karkat groans softly, trying to push himself up a little in Gamzee's lap, throat working up to make something sensible.

"...c'n jus'.....take m't'w'ter, be fas'er, wounnit...?"

 

*

 

Gamzee titters and chitters, drawing his mate's head low, holding Karkat to his breast.

"We'll take you there after we get you all cleaned of slick, mate of mine. Don't worry 'bout nothing. We got you." He caresses soft hair, following the length of Karkat's spine while his blood-brother retrieves more water.

Next, Karkat's laid carefully out onto Kurloz's lap, exposing his thighs and nook to Gamzee.

The elder highblood, bare palm cool, makes a hesitant, awkward motion to cup Karkat's cheek.

 

"He wants a bath." Gamzee informs him, gingerly wiping down Karkat's inner thighs.

His puffy little nook is another deal entirely, worked over repeatedly until the stains are... mostly gone.

Mostly.

It doesn't help that his mate's perfect, pretty little slit is just a bit loose -- but, that he's not ripped or stretched beyond repair is a testament to the resilience of breeders.

"I'll heat more water." Kurloz intones, wondering if he should be touching Karkat like this.

Sex is one thing, and cleaning up after his mess is only natural -- but Gamzee, while clearly seeing the action, doesn't bristle or hiss. He just keeps cleaning Karkat, until the breeder passes for something other than 'fucked silly'.

Kurloz passes Karkat on to Gamzee, getting to his feet.

"'Member to make the water hot." Gamzee emphasizes, returning to idly stroking Karkat, peppering him in lazy affections.

"Of course." Kurloz replies, leaving the block.

With a chirr and a gentle headbutt, Gamzee tries to get his mate's attention.

"You gonna be okay?"

 

*

 

He could seriously sleep just then, his head against Gamzee's chest, nuzzling until he can hear his slow, steady heart push the loudest. Karkat's not quite ready to move but he's moved anyway, laid out over Kurloz with the elder holding him, helping open him for Gamzee to see, to wipe slick away with a fresh cloth.

Cool palm comes light and gentle on his cheek, Karkat letting his head press into it, wanting the support the touch brings more than anything, rather than let his head drop. Gaze blearily flicking over Kurloz's face, to Gamzee's head, feeling him working water up his inner thighs, over his now sore nook. His body tenses, and Karkat's breath catches whenever he moves over something a little too tender, lashes fluttering and trying to ignore it (be real nice of that numbness to come back right now, that'd be pretty cool).

At the very least his body will right itself, and that perk of his biology is something to take comfort in; as long as he doesn't die or lose limbs or actual chunks of himself, everything will fix itself up.

 

Karkat's gently handed back into Gamzee's lap, Kurloz leaving again to get more hot water-- feeling bad to make him go back and forth, Karkat would be fine to just get dunked under some water, he thinks --, being butted lightly for his attention, turning up with a little chirp (turning his head a certain way hurts some, so even that is limited).

"...mmh..I'll b'fine...can jus' sleep it off..," he mumbles, making a soft chirr in his raspy throat.

 

*

 

The weak little chirr Karkat sends back makes Gamzee's heart melt, his mate the picture of exhaustion -- but a pleasant sort, he hopes.

A blissed-out sort that can be soothed with gentle hands and warm water.

"We gonna bathe you first, a'ight?" He purrs, laying Karkat down only long enough to pull on his loose pants.

Gathering up his mate, Gamzee heads into a block repurposed as an ablution block; a large wooden basin sits above some extinguished coals, the water already soothingly, comfortably hot.

Gamzee takes Karkat over to the tub and props him up inside it, almost able to imagine Zhen crouched at his feet, controlling the temperature of the bathwater with her fan -- she'd be here if she weren't constantly tending to Xia, worrying about her.

The water is much too hot for Gamzee -- but that doesn't matter for long as the slender, imposing figure of The Grand Highblood steps into the steamy room.

 

His smile is all but salacious, his laughter concealed politely behind a raised hand.

"You three had fun, didn't you?" He asks, although it's not really a question; both younger Indigobloods flush subtly.

"Invite me next time, wouldn't you?" He remarks casually, striding over to the tub of hot water.

His gaze roams over Karkat, taking him in less like a freshly-fucked breeder and more like someone he used to know.

"Leave him to me." He says, already pushing up the sleeves of his blouse.

"Are you... sure?" Gamzee nearly stutters, wanting instinctively to pull Karkat to his chest.

"I know how to bathe a breeder -- now go, clean youselves up." He makes shooing motions with his hands, waiting for both Indigobloods to leave the block before turning his attention back to Karkat.

 

The Grand Highblood stalks around the basin once before picking up a cloth.

"Don't mind me. I just figured we ought to have some privacy -- not to shame your mate or his blood-brother, but I have been wanting to get you alone." He crouches behind the basin, smiling to himself.

"Mind if I clean your back? I can also express your buds, if they're aching."

Notes:

we made a lot of 'virgin kurloz' jokes in here, a lot of virgin kurloz shaming. virgin and a freak, they all get along in clown town lolol.

i still have our ooc stuff, just because I couldn't bear to see it gone.

I'm barely bearing with a lot of things right now, especially not that.

one more left.

one more chapter of an unfinished world; is it not an ungrand end?

Chapter 39: A Bitter Yearning

Summary:

a bitter ending indeed.

This is the last of this. There won't be any more chapters, updates, anything. It is the end of an unfinished world.

Thank you, those of you who had kind words and sentiments and well wishes. I appreciate that at the very least, somebody, anybody, could see me. That this cry into a vast world had been heard by at least someone.

I just wish that you, my friend, had been among those to see or hear.

Notes:

the last indeed. I wish we had been able to steer this world all the way through like we wanted. we had planned for more, so much more.

could I even bring myself to go through with what we planned? Even if I wanted to, I'm not sure I have the strength anymore, literally.

 

It's hard going in and out of the hospital. it's difficult enough to upkeep myself mentally and emotionally, on top of this, and now I have to deal with the medications fucking up my body.

it's hard and maybe someone else out there understands, but not to my extent.

 

I have even fathomed the idea that.....you might have seen this. recognized me. and continued to watch me call out pathetically like this.

although, in spite of such thoughts, you did not come across so cruel to me. or, I am a fool and you've played me for it.

 

even to the end, could I still not reach you even a fraction?

It's like an almost instant relief, when his whole body is lowered into heated water, warmth spreading quickly and chasing out the soreness, Karkat feeling more more comfort-loose than everything-is-breaking-apart-loose , which is quite a few steps up if he had to say. Sinking more and more into the tub despite Gamzee sitting him up, until the water is up to his chin, along the back of his head.

It's so easy to give in to wanting to close his eyes like that, lashes actually fluttering shut, a light thrumming starting up in his chest, a little rough in his throat.

 

He feels it more than sees it, when The Grand Highblood enters the block; it's hard not to, he's a troll with that much presence , Karkat tensing under the water. Seeing Gamzee and Kurloz flush like that-- like they've been caught doing something wrong --should be something for Karkat to giggle at but their ancestor puts Karkat a little on edge and more on guard, not wanting to get caught again by the way he questions and corners like an old troll spreading gossip. That's the part he's more worried about.

Surprisingly while at the same time not, both of his descendants end up leaving Karkat, even his mate though Karkat can't really fault him, he doesn't know how whatever dynamics at work work , so really all he can do is sit there in the trap, nerves rising up slow as he eyes The Grand Highblood.

Karkat's decisive response is to sink further down into the tub, just up to his chin while he watches the adult troll, ".....can I ev'n refuse?" Something says that he probably shouldn't, and Karkat considers a few things in his head, hugging around his chest a little, "....I don't need t'be expressed, I can take care 'f it later..."

 

*

 

"It's bad manners to refuse." He chirps back, laying the cloth aside to hook his slender, long-fingered hands beneath Karkat's arms, and haul him further up the basin.

"At least keep your nutrient gash above water, Karkat. It's almost like you don't want me here." His astonishment is entirely fake, and sugar-sweet, at that.

He dips the cloth and wring it out, starting at the scruff of Karkat's neck.

The old troll chuckles, then falls silent as he works away dead skin from the mutant's carapace.

"I know you're wary of me." He moves onto the shoulders, working out tension and stress with an expert touch; Karkat's body is familiar to him. An old lover.

A deceased lover.

"I've earned the reputation, so I can't rightfully complain -- it's only going to get worse, anyway." He hums, something of that smile returning to his voice.

"Not that I really mind. Even when I was a wriggler, trolls were wary of me. It comes with the territory." Wringing out the cloth once more, he discards it, and makes use of his cupped hands to wet Karkat's hair.

Smoothing his hair back from his forehead, The Grand Highblood chuckles.

"Better to get all the pretense out of the way; you have questions for me. Queries concerning long-dead trolls." His nails scratch at Karkat's scalp, picking off dead skin, massaging the roots of his hair.

"Will you believe what I tell you, or shun it? I'll talk either way... I'm merely curious. Your ancestor, Messiahs rest his soul, learned I don't lie. It did take him a while, though. Why go for the risky Indigoblood when you have a perfectly serviceable, subservient Oliveblood right beside you?" Again, he chuckles, although there's much less amusement in the sound.

More a reflex than anything.

 

*

 

Figures.

Karkat is reluctantly pulled up enough that he's put up higher in the basin, lightly chided like he's some petulant wriggler. He doesn't really want The Grand Highblood there while he's naked and without extra support, but there isn't much to be done about it but just be there.

He's right even that Karkat is wary of him, though that might be a little hard to believe when Karkat is melting under skillful hands, even as he explains his position, something that others are careful of, him in general.

The Grand Highblood touches him with a care and ease, a sense of familiarity, as if he knows him. Karkat can't outright seem to refuse it so all he does is lean into how the older troll caresses across his skin.

Reminds Karkat that he can answer questions about those who have passed, Karkat uttering without a thought (without really realizing that he's said something at all), "..'nd those wh're halfway in between, too.."

He doesn't lie, huh?

This is the worst time for Karkat to try and think but he does it anyway, thinking his words through, as carefully as he can manage anyway.

"....Meulin did not write my supposed ancestor as a liar, and I'd like to imagine that he wasn't one, either." He pauses, taking a breath, pan allocating words until he's ready to put them out again, "..who approached who first? About mateship, at least."

 

*

 

"The Disciple also denied me justice in her depictions of me -- but grief does funny things to people." He talks with a casual, airy quality. Like he doesn't care. Like he can't afford to care.

"The Signless first approached us concerning his... alternative thoughts. Of course, there was an entire gaggle of lowbloods with him. I met them outside the church, considering they're heathens, and I didn't want to dirty my rugs."

He keeps up that jovial tone, humming while his fingers work into the knots of Karkat's spine.

"He babbled on about something-or-other. It didn't pique my interest. Besides, I was and am a busy troll. All very rebellious. All very scandalous. You know how it goes -- or you will, soon." His hands creep up to the back of Karkat's neck, continuing his massage.

"Anyway, what's the word of a living, breathing troll to that of a dead one? I can tell you're already biased, and this conversation is going so well -- so I'm not answering that last little part, Karkat." He pats the troll atop the head and gets up, retrieving a painted fan.

The Grand Highblood takes care of the coals, dipping his fingertips into the water despite how uncomfortable it is for him; how the skin purples almost immediately, on the verge of burning.

"I will say back then, Indigobloods held land. Churches, mainly. The occasional hive-cluster. Your ancestor knew exactly where I was if he ever wanted to hear the good word of The Mirthful Messiahs -- and he was, at the very least, curious enough to return multiple times." He smiles, flushed -- but there's a discomfort there.

A wall that he won't let just anyone past.

"Surely, you're interested in The Mirthful Messiahs -- even if only to stop your mate from looking a complete disgrace." He says, judging the water to be hot enough.

"Any other questions? I'd rather not discuss your ancestor, aside from the facts, which even The Disciple had enough of a pan to get correct in her shoddy diary."

 

*

 

As far as Kankri then, Karkat won't be getting much more out of the old adult troll, he gathers. His tone....Karkat doesn't take it at face value, like with how he regards The Grand Highblood in general, as he'd remarked earlier, Karkat is wary.

Saying he didn't pique his interest, and to him Kankri's words sounded like alternative blather, an idealist's drivel (Zhen had told him earlier, still in the caverns still Karkat's friend that The Grand Highblood supported his ancestor, and Karkat knows she wouldn't lie about a thing like that, got so worked up Xia had to push her back into the sopor), Karkat doesn't take that at face value either. Just because he's alive doesn't really mean he's right, it just means he gets to say whatever he wants and no one can truly contest it; it's not that much different from the Empress, if he wanted a comparison (like those history books with Her sign on it).

 

The way he seems to clog up talking about Kankri though, tells him right off he doesn't want to talk about him either, has to say something.

"Mmh, alright..," he's feeling too loosened (damn those hands!) to really keep up a physical guard, but he's mentally more alert-- being naked in front of an acclaimed troll like this can do that to a guy --at the very least, his head resting back on the edge of the basin, red gaze sweeping toward The Grand Highblood. "..Would you answer any question, then? As long as they don't directly pertain to my ancestor?"

Karkat hums, glancing away just for a moment-- looking for his bag just to realize his bag is back in the block where...where stuff just happened....yeah... --making a small huff, "We were resting at a brooding cavern, and a painting caught my eye. I wanted to ask you about the sign 'Virgo'...," he pauses, lips pursed until they're worried by his teeth, Karkat mulling over whether he should really ask or not, "....Would you let me see Xia?"

 

*

 

The Grand Highblood shakes his hand dry, the fingers purple from the heat.

"Oh, that?" He looks bored for a moment, brows raising.

"If you're going to ask me about all the True Signs, I may as well tell you what I know. The Disciple died in a desolate cave long before some trolls came around, so there are some gaps in that little diary of hers. Death does that." He gets to his feet, folding up the fan with a flick of the wrist.

"The Dolorosa, or Porrim , as you seem intent on disgracefully using hatch-names, was an old bitch. She raised The Signless. One of my few, singular joys in life was witnessing the abject horror in her eyes as Executioner Darkleer loosed the arrow which killed your ancestor. After that," he shifts, head lolling, "Marquise Spinneret Mindfang, or Aranea , took her onto a slave ship. They were quadrantmates. Forcibly so. You know, Blueblooded mind tricks work wonderfully on a jaded Jade." He cackles at his own pun.

"How do I know all this?" He hums, hiding his mouth behind his hand.

"That sleezy motherfucker Dualscar !" He throws his arms out, cackling -- like he's remembering something particularly amazing.

"He came to me with 'information' and I took his head for it. It was a bad night. Anyway, while raiding Mindfang's ship, he'd speared and culled the poor Dolorosa. As for Mindfang, The Summoner -- a Bronzeblood that ate Empire propaganda and was a thorn in my ass for a few dozen sweeps -- eventually did away with her." He pauses, hands on his hips.

"... Ah, yes! Between all of that, Redglare -- or, Latula -- popped up. Did a number on Mindfang with her Lusus. In return for that, she was hanged. Such a shame. The Empress had some sort of plan for her and I to work together, and she was promising." He clasps his hands, shoulders relaxing.

"Should I go on? The only ones left living are The Psiioniic, The Handmaid, myself, and The Empress. Executioner Darkleer's body still wanders around, but he's long-dead." He waves away the thought, and acts as if Karkat hadn't asked about Xia.

Instead, he grabs a handful of salts, and situates himself on the side of the tub.

"All very ancient, boring things -- here, do you want some of these? They make the bath smell nice."

 

*

 

Darkleer is mentioned again, but Karkat has no plans on saying anything in regards to that-- he went through that with Gamzee already and he's not about to get into it again with a troll beyond his sweeps did Gamzee not say anything to his ancestor about it? Karkat had thought he was all bent out because of it.

He completely glosses over answering Karkat about Xia, too

That comment, however, about the Dolorosa makes his blood boil ; perhaps Karkat is too empathetic, fine , he admits that, maybe even more so because Kanaya shares her sign. But from what he read he bets The Grand Highblood had to have felt similar to his grubs being culled how dare he find joy in that type of pain, when he has been through the same.

He has the odd urge to dig in where it hurts, seek out and exploit that bitter, vaguely held connection, a different kind of heat surging through his blood, a welling in his throat with a litany of daggered words, trembling fists-- thin, steel-corded threads at his fingertips--

Karkat nearly flinches in the water-- no, not that, he can't do that, never again, never --hands still trembling, tight around his body (claws dug into his palms. Gradually, he lets his body release the tension, until he's sort of relaxed in the water again (sort of), lips pursed as The Grand Highblood tries to change the subject, showing him bath salts.

He huffs, some built-up tension going out with the puff of breath, it being made clear he's not going to be seeing Xia unless...well, unless something happens that he can. Fine. Karkat can play that game if he has to. "..I take it the Dolorosa's sign was Virgo, then." That was his initial question to begin with. Karkat slumps a little back down into the water, tempted to blow bubbles the way his Lusus does, though his reason for doing so is to subtly smooth his hands over his chest, flesh aching from more than just rough play.

"Whittle down my questions, will you..," Karkat mumbles, even though really he's just over-answered, "And the Handmaid?? Seriously??? Like the Demoness?" The Demoness is truly an actual myth, even more than the stories of The Grand Highblood being some big hulking figure. "Now you're just trying to take my head for a spin, aren't you..."

 

*

 

"Don't slouch." With his free hand, he reaches behind Karkat and scruffs him, sitting him upright once more.

The salts are turned into the water with a flick of the wrist, fizzling; their rose-tint spreads into the bath water, emitting a pleasant scent.

"'The Demoness ? Frightening name for someone so restrained. Her hatch-name is Damara. If not for The Psiioniic, I'd argue she's the most beaten of us all -- trolls like her tend to be so when they're brazen and stupid. The Empress doesn't like open revolution, and she has enough power to put down just about any troll against her." He hums, crossing his legs.

When he turns his back to Karkat, he parts his hair and moves it over his shoulders; otherwise it'd dip into the bathwater.

" Just about ." He bobs his foot, legs crossed.

"Marvus Xoloto is a lot like her. I had to tell him to keep that shit under wraps, unless he wants a bounty on his head -- I'm sure he knows how this is going to end." The last part is spoken to himself, the highblood flicking excess salts off his palm.
He continues humming, observing his claws for any dirt.

"Do you need your buds expressed? I used to do that for your ancestor all the time. Hardly the most difficult thing in the world -- and I'm too old to feel embarrassment over such things."

 

*

 

Karkat squeaks at being scruffed, going rigid still as he's made to straighten out, a light tremor of panic before he makes himself relax. Puffed up cheeks directed at the other and grumbling quietly how he can slouch if he wants to, bluh .

He's not even sure whether to take what The Grand Highblood says about the Demoness seriously-- sounds like he knows her, even to her hatchname.

"Well, she must have done something that a lot of stories say she's not dead, survived a fight with the Empress even." To Karkat anyway, since the Empress was supposedly unbeatable to where anyone who tried died at Her hands.

 

When asked about being expressed, Karkat freezes up and his cheeks flush up with color before words make some kind of sense. "I-I can do it myself! You may be too old for embarrassment, but I'm not!"

He wants to sink back into the tub, cheeks dusted up and Karkat flustered at the very thought.

 

*

 

At the mention of surviving a confrontation with The Empress, The Grand Highblood's smile turns sharp. Conspiratorial.

"The Empress likes to play with her prey." He stands, smiling to himself as he unclasps the frilled cuffs at his wrists; unbuttons his blouse and allows the material to drop to the ground.

His body is a tapestry of violence -- proof that he's mortal -- but, when he gathers his hair and turns his back to Karkat, his mortality comes into question.

Amongst the usual scars -- puncture wounds, clawings -- stands out a large gash, dragged diagonally from his right shoulder to his left hip.

It's deep , surrounded by burnt flesh.

"The bitch tried to bisect me. A little off-centre, don't you think? Might've gone all the way through, if she'd aimed at my waist." He chuckles politely, letting his hair drape down his back once more.

 

In a moment of forgetfulness, facing Karkat while retrieving his blouse, two pendants catch in the light: that of Capricorn and that of Cancer.

The Grand Highblood doesn't seem to notice, shrugging his blouse back on with ease.

"I was young and stupid -- and grieving, admittedly. Even I can do that. Such a shame. It must not have been my time; The Mirthful Messiahs rejected me." He speaks with ease, rounding the basin, slim fingers trailing the edge of the tub.

Now, he looms over Karkat -- not in a particularly threatening manner, aside from the general threat he poses to just about every troll.

"You live with Indigobloods, now, Karkat. What if Sister Chahut wants to help you? Hmm? Shed your shame. It'll be just a moment. Pretend my hands are your mate's, if that helps."

 

*

 

Even Gamzee's scars are nothing like that , Karkat's eyes widening just so at the sight; the nastiest, deepest one has been gored into his flesh, enough that there is flesh missing . That this was something She did and that The Grand Highblood is still breathing here in front of him is it's own testament.

A glint catches his eye-- and Karkat thinks it's the first time he's ever seen Gamzee's sign, rather his ancestor's sign. Seeing his own along with it is a surprise, reminds him that his own signsake is in his bag. It must hold more significance than the old troll lets on, that he wears it, despite his earlier words.

Eventually, The Grand Highblood redoes his shirt, covering the scars once more. It's a little hard not to feel some pity, especially when he admits to grieving-- waiting for death and his Messiahs to take him.

He might have really if not for The Grand Highblood towering just over the edge of the tub, saying the stuff he says.

"S-Sister Chahut is one thing..," he tapers off, Karkat's own imagination trying to turn on him and run wild with the mental imagery. Shedding shame is easier said than done, and Karkat might as well reheat the bath water on his own from how he's beginning to steam the air around him.

 

*

 

"Is she, now?" Fabric rustles as he pushes his sleeves up once more, and then his slender hands are dipping into the too-hot water, cupping handfuls over Karkat's chest.

"I dont understand why you can't be even slightly hedonistic -- I'd do the same for your ancestor and he'd nearly implode on the spot, babbling about the sanctities of Gods he knew little about... The mess that would be made... Just about anything else to get me to 'see reason'." He giggles, an airy sound.

His hands are gentle when they cup Karkat's mounds.

Scarred and rough but gentle all the same; claws kept off sensitive skin.

When he kneads the mounds, he's particular about the motions; the balls of his thumbs dig into specific areas, coaxing more and more sugar-syrup to collect. Drip from Karkat's nubs.

"Your body doesn't particularly care if your chest isn't large enough to hold onto all the sap you can produce. Your ancestor came to me, once, and his buds felt like someone had stuffed rocks under the carapace. It must've taken half the night, all things considered." By 'half the night', he means coaxing, goading, prepping, and -- finally -- expressing.

The warm water, anyway, helps move the sap along. An especially good method for highblooded breeders -- although he can count on one hand the number of those he's seen.

"I'll teach your mate to do this," he chirps, "because I'm sure, out of all of us, you'd most prefer him -- you'd probably prefer no one, but, like I said," he brings his lips to Karkat's ear, "you're living with us, now."

 

*

 

"Y-Y-You should see sss--!" Karkat chirps in nervous surprise, tensing under the water as hands purpled from heat-- Gamzee has these hands, somewhat, and Karkat suspects if he were to inspect Kurloz's he'd think the same, interjected as the thought is --cup at his chest. Digits press and dig into tender flesh and while the ache begins to ebb out with each deliberate motion, red creeps from his face all the way down his neck. "..some reason..," he ends up finishing lamely.

He can't even help himself from letting out small whimpers, soft noises and his breath just slightly catching, until Karkat scrunches up his eyes and mouth, just to hold back something. It's all the more mortifying when he peeks through the lashes of one eye down, heat languidly collecting in his chest until he feels a different kind of wet right at the tip of budded nipples-- a beading of translucent red welling up until it's heavy enough to roll down his skin.

It's nothing that he should panic about, he knows that he can produce sap. It's just different seeing it on himself than it is watching one of the older breeders nectate and feed their grublings and new pupae.

The Grand Highblood doesn't help at all, whispering so close to his ear like that, Karkat almost rolling his eyes, "'F you teach him how to do this then I'm done for. He's already got it out for my chest, for me," his voice tries for exasperated but comes out breathy, his own hands hovering just under the water like there's something he can even do in this situation.

 

*

 

The Grand Highblood hums, almost purring -- and it's an odd sound to be coming from such a large, ancient troll.

"He should. Even a blind troll would have it out for you." He continues his ministrations, kneading, working sap to Karkat's buds prior to expressing them.

He already knows the sticky, red droplets that will be running down his chest.

Eventually, he even feels it on his fingers -- a few droplets slowly, cloyingly running down over his fingertips.

"Now that you're producing sap, your body is going to produce as much sap as if your buds were fully developed. This isn't so much an issue for female breeders, but you'll need some help until your body can comfortably store all your sap -- and, even then, if you don't feed for a while, you'll back yourself up." His hands finally leave the mutant, fingers spotted with sticky red syrup.

 

The older troll licks a droplet from the knuckle of a finger, letting the overwhelmingly sweet taste flood his senses.

It tastes exactly like that which had come from Karkat's ancestor.

"Sweet ." He murmurs to himself, now cupping water over Karkat's chest, washing away his sap.

"Does your chest feel better, now?" There's only a hint of self-satisfaction in his voice.

"This is probably the best you've bathed in perigees, am I right? You may as well enjoy yourself. Even I don't get these luxuries."

 

*

 

"Of course a blind troll would, they just have to pick up on breeder-sugar stink," he'd gone back to scrunching up his face, it's enough to feel what The Grand Highblood is doing can feel how his fingers move, Karkat unconsciously tracking the way he does it.

Karkat kind of knows what he's talking about, he's overheard Kanaya whenever she'd been checking up on one of the other breeders, new in his first carrying term, but still older than Karkat. This is really something he would have preferred for her to be here, talking him through it, telling him how best to do something so that he isn't struggling, if he's being honest with himself.

Would have learned while he was around the other breeders, those older and more experienced there to guide him along what Kanaya couldn't could have learned from Xia.

When a few more beads begin rolling slowly down his chest, The Grand Highblood seems satisfied with that, an immediate relief when his hands leave him, that aching pressure hardly there anymore and leaving Karkat to release a quiet sigh.

"Mmh......a lot better...," his voice is soft, much more relaxed than he'd been the whole time, even if he wants to call the old troll out on some things-- that almost smug tone, how Karkat has the fleeting suspicion that the guy straight up tasted his sap (like progenitor like scion, he should have guessed it).

"In comparison to dunking myself in ponds and rivers? You're right on the caeger about that." Karkat turns more to him, questioning gaze, "Why not..?" He rolls a lot of things in his head for reasons why, but can't seem to land on anything concrete.

 

*

 

A pair of arms loosely cross over the lip of the tub, The Grand Highblood's face resting atop the crook of his naked elbow.

This close, even under his obscuring paints, his features can be discerned; refined, delicate, expressive . He and Gamzee share the same lidded eyes. The same slightly arched brows. The same expressive lips.

"Why so...?" He returns the question, dipping a claw into the scented water.

"I live like my descendants. It's the only way to live. Let's say... a group of Indigobloods sets up outside a city. They trade their goods amicably. Only steal away a troll or two. It's unnerving, but we don't disturb anyone... Except, we do, and the drones descend. In the course of a night, the weak have been culled, the strong dispersed, and everything burned." His gaze drops, lashes obscuring his purple eyes as he gazes into the pink-tinted water.

What an ugly colour.

His hands tingle from slight burns, but he doesn't mind it. He'll heal within a night.

"While everyone was busy grieving, I was busy fleeing. After all, The Empress had told me to capture your ancestor, and I ignored her . I swear, it took less than a sweep for every church -- every village -- to be bombed, burned, desiccated." He sighs, propping his face up on his hand.

"I found she didn't much care for the desolate ends of the planet, and, fragmenting into hundreds of small groups made tracking and culling us more difficult. Costly . The Empress loves wealth almost as much as she loves herself -- so, what of it if a few Indigobloods escape?" He shrugs, forcing himself to perk up with a smile.

It's obviously false, this close, but he knows as much.

 

"Do you think I go around doing this for fun ? I've spent thousands of sweeps trying to keep my caste alive. That means melting snow for bathwater. Always travelling. Stealing breeders on the off-chance Jadebloods have been mandated to cull Indigobloods -- but, you know, I'm going to live in style and luxuriate until Her Royal Fussiness deigns to pay me a personal visit." A throaty chuckle.

"She knows by now how useless her drones are against me. Unless she wants her Empire to burn, she'll need to crawl up from the depths and spear me herself -- and what a catch ." He coos, devolving into giggling -- like he isn't talking about forcing The Empress to confront him.

"Until then, I'm going to eat fresh-baked grain rolls, bathe in salts, and clothe myself in finery. It's important to meet your makers with both clean mind and body."

 

*

 

"Has Gamzee told you yet about my prior engagement?" That's not too different from something he told Gamzee-- except the obvious parts where it was (Karkat being tired of his impending marriage before it began and how he was going to handle it, planned a whole takeover even, eventually get a rise out of the Empress, but being that Karkat was coddled by his village, he doesn't have the same reasons as an entire caste to have done what he planned) --, and despite the falseness in The Grand Highblood's smile, in forced laughs, Karkat could laugh himself, too. Would laugh if every word, every implication, didn't weigh such sadness so heavily on his heart.

"...where I'm from...we do something similar, for sending the dead off, anyway. The troll doing the funeral rite has to be clean, a corpsemeister cleans and prepares the body." When he thought Kanaya was dead, Karkat remembers bathing in the pond, washing himself as best he could before doing any rites for her. "It's usually a troll with Second Sight, because they can see , y'know? The song we learn for it is supposed to help guide the one who's dead out to the stars. It's in Beforian, too. But the important bit is that both are cleansed . Just an observation...," Karkat sighs, shoulders hunching a little as he looks back at The Grand Highblood, as if expecting reproach.

"Are you gonna scold me, too? I know already, dumb heathenry is blasphemy, I already got that lecture. It's just what I've grown up with, is all, I'm noting similarities out loud," he mumbles defensively, not really wanting another lecture-- or worse, to get yelled at because then he'll get angry too.

Karkat waits a moment before deciding on anything else to say, mulling words in his head before they leave his lips. "...I knew you didn't hand him in. Meulin thought you did," Meulin curses him over and over for it, to the scattered ending of her writings, not by title but by name, Gül.

"...I don't know if she'd believe that you didn't. I'd like to think so, if you told her, whether or not you had any reason to." To that end, if he did, then why would the Empress do everything she had to the caste? Because he didn't. "But as you said, grief does things to a troll. And she's dead, anyway."

 

*

 

"Actually, there are no similarities. An Indigoblood dies and we leave their body. What use is it to them? It's no use to us. Besides, we hardly ever pass peacefully. Is someone going to come collect our scattered remains?" He laughs. "Even if we do hold on to them, it's not for long. Even our own becomes our special stardust in the end."

"You're right that it's heretical, and I'd advise you to let go of those things. Reflects poorly on your mate -- and you've already forced his hand." His smile slips away, and he shrugs.

"Gamzee needs to be capable of monstrous things when I'm gone. He already has the potential. Don't stifle it. He won't die for it, but you will -- and you'll be some name in some tome. Once he passes and the pages fade, nothing will be remembered." He keeps it quick and short, light and airy, getting up from the tub.

He makes use of a cloth to dry his hand.

"I don't particularly care what that blind fool thought of me when she lived. None of them mattered. Their opinions of me were useless, only more so now that most of them have perished." He tosses the towel aside, rolling down his sleeves and buttoning the cuffs.

"For future reference, Karkat," he turns back to the troll, fiddling with a button, "refer to me as nothing. I know you know my title and my hatch-name. I prefer neither. Especially since you seem so..." The Grand Highblood trails off, fixing his cuff.

"I'll go find some clothing for you. Feel free to slouch and blow bubbles. I wouldn't recommend drinking the water, though; the crystals taste bad." He chirps, leaving with a jaunt in his step.

 

*

 

He bites the inside of his cheeks to keep from pouting and puffing; he gets that, he really does, and while Karkat isn't even really devout in what his village teaches, it's not like he can just drop it like that.

Karkat Vantas wants to hold and protect everyone and everything that's important to him, without losing pieces of himself at the same time-- because that is the true extent of his greed, how it works.

 

When The Grand Highblood leaves the block, Karkat sticks his tongue out at his back-- it's the only time he's got enough globes to do that anyway --before slumping back into the water. It's still very warm and he dunks his head under just wet his hair down again, going full flat; his hair has grown a little. Karkat slicks his bangs back, hunkering down to where he can blow bubbles and think.

Especially since he seems so what ? What was he about to say?

So...naiive? So dumb? So....like Kankri ??

Well, thinking won't tell him the what or why, and Karkat is left with even more questions than earlier too.

All of that aside, he's more or less stuck in the bath anyway, as shown by him attempting to lift himself out of the water only for his legs to give and Karkat to realize, once again, Gamzee-- with Kurloz, this time --had fucked his legs semi-useless, again. There's literally naught to do but wait for either The Grand Highblood or someone to come back, sinking back down to make bubbles again.

 

*

 

The city has a lot of things -- an overwhelming amount -- but he's a picky troll with a discerning eye and, honestly, Zhen's been keeping busy.

Whenever she's lucid, she's beside Xia -- but she's not idle. She's sewing, embroidering; reading and translating and praying. There's always something going on with her, even if there's no longer anything going on with the mass she guards.

For a few nights, even Gamzee hadn't been allowed near the Limeblood without Zhen pulling her pick and hissing.

 

The Grand Highblood returns after a few minutes, before the water can get cold. He has a myriad of robes in his arms, layered; the outer layer is a deep, rich Purple, embroidered through with grey.

"You can't get out of the trap?" He asks, knowing full well Karkat cannot.

"Poor troll -- maybe I should put you in a cloth sack to deter my scions?" The older troll teases, laying out the robes and ties; ribbons, socks -- even a pair of shoes with rubber heels sewn into the fabric.

"I hope you like it, because I am very fond of Beforian designs. I was hatched there, after all." Without waiting, he hoists Karkat from the ablution trap as if he weighed nothing, cradling him despite the wet warmth seeping through his blouse.

"Have you worn your mate's colour, yet?" Karkat is sat down, a plain shift thrown over him.

After that come two more inner robes, tied off with strings at the waist; one of the two has sleeves which extend just to Karkat's fingertips.

The outer robe, the purple one, is the most decorated; when wrapped around the mutant, it hugs his body -- but not too tightly. The hem reaches his ankles, The Grand Highblood belting everything with a large, black sash that feels thick and starched.

He even puts on Karkat's socks for him, but he forgoes the shoes for now -- they're inside.

"Do you want to see?" He purrs at the final result, wondering if he could scrounge up something to put in Karkat's hair, behind an ear; maybe tie around a horn.

"I think you look lovely -- very Beforian, but Alternian fashions are... lacking. To me, anyways."

 

*

 

"I could get out, but I also don't feel like hurting myself right at this moment." Karkat scowls but it's still more pout than anything, " Don't tempt me. I bet you could put me in a sack and it still wouldn't deter nothing."

He wouldn't put it past Gamzee to still pop a wiggly if Karkat was wearing a literal sack; Karkat could probably look at him and he'd still wind up bent over for it. He's not sure if he can really say as much for Kurloz, but the elder would probably think about it.

Karkat makes a short squeak, being lifted out of the basin and then held against The Grand Highblood like he wasn't absolutely dripping water everywhere, settled onto a chair with a shift put on him. "I haven't, yet," he's pretty sure if the chance came, Gamzee would have had him wear his color-- no time like the present, despite the claim of wanting to put him in as much as his own Red as possible.

 

His eyes light up in interest and bit back astonishment, looking over the layers of robe The Grand Highblood brings. The outermost one is similar to the one Zhen wears, not the same of course-- the traders never brought the same textiles twice, and Kanaya has regretted not buying one particular kind that she had changed her mind on. It's beautifully embroidered, and Karkat would have suspected Zhen had done it herself if she was here, the sleeves extend just past his fingertips and he guesses if he were to stand the bottom would sit just at his ankles, give or take some few inches.

The old troll ties the stiff sash around his waist once the outer layer is on, even does the socks for him.

"...we'd get visited by traders, from the other continent. The textiles master always wears something similar to this-- with her own color, of course. But my caretaker and I have always admired the style. She's even bought patterns with my Red in them," Karkat speaks softly, looking over the sleeves with quiet awe. Kanaya would just gush over him if she could see.

"I'd like to see, please, if that's alright."

 

*

 

"It's robbery, the price of textile. I've never felt bad stealing or culling for them." The Grand Highblood huffs laughter, plucking Karkat up bridal-style and walking him out of the ablution trap.
It's surprisingly not difficult to find a mirror, given that none of the Indigobloods particularly enjoy looking at themselves -- he lowers Karkat in front of one which cuts off most of his own figure, but is almost the perfect height for Karkat.

The shape, originally constructed to cling to thin, wispy trolls, looks just as good on Karkat's curves. That the robes can be tied, loosened or tightened, is an improvement over the old styles.

"Don't you look the perfect Beforian mate?" The Grand Highblood teases, tying a feathered, tinkling bell from Karkat's sash.

Just like the one Zhen wears.

"I'll have to find something for your hair." Briefly, his fingers move through the strands, fluffing it up.

"Maybe some make-up; you ought to let me do it. I know you can't tell , but I've had thousands of sweeps of practise. Disguising my face like this is purposeful. I'm not daft concerning popular trends -- well, popular trends that are appealing. Half of them make me wants to regurgitate ." His clawed hands come to rest lightly on Karkat's shoulders, and that only highlights his hips more .

"We should live in luxury while we can, right, Karkat? You look so beautiful, anyway. It's perfectly fitting."

 

*

 

It should be humiliating that he has to be propped up in front of the mirror, but how else is he going to stand there when he can't really stand at all without his knees buckling. At least for now he seems steady, enough to gawk at his reflection.
Karkat isn't a vain troll, at least he'd like to think he isn't, but he's half-awe half in love with the way the style looks on him, making gentle turns to see how the style puts a bit of emphasis on his shape, flattering the curve of his hips and the sash gently hiding the slight round of his pudgy middle. In all honesty, he'd probably be gushing too for all that he thinks the robes are beyond stunning.

It's almost hard to believe that it's his reflection, rather than Karkat wearing the outfit, it's more like it's wearing him.

"Is..is it really okay for me to wear this?" It's so pretty it feels like it's wasted on him, and while Karkat wouldn't say it out loud, he's sure The Grand Highblood is biased on multiple accounts on calling him beautiful because he used to have his ancestor, because Karkat's a breeder, there's a lot of reasons.

Gamzee would probably say the same and then preen about how Karkat's wearing his color. He'd laugh if he wasn't still so taken by his own sight-- he swears he isn't vain at all .

If The Grand Highblood was really set on it, Karkat might really even consider letting him do the makeup, since Karkat wouldn't even know how to do it without clashing with the dress.

 

*

 

The Grand Highblood holds up Karkat as he gently sways, taking in his own sight like he'd never really seen himself before.

"Who the fuck's here to say it ain't?" He rumbles, starting slightly at a surprised chirp .

 

Gamzee's caught a peek at them -- at Karkat -- after his own quick ablution, hair dry but skin still fresh-scrubbed lavender.

Or, maybe it's the sight of his mate dressed up so nicely.

Either way, it's too late to take back the sound, with the way The Grand Highblood looks at him.

"Don't be shy. You should be the one holding him up, anyway. His poor strutpods are still recovering from what you did to him, child." The Grand Highblood's smile is in his voice, although Gamzee's eager to get close.

Karkat smells... perfumed, almost. Not in the usual sense.

Of course, they've been picking into the luxuries of the high castes -- the city -- where trolls bathe in warm, scented water and lather themselves with scented lotions and oils. Some of it is so strong it makes Gamzee flinch away, but Karkat smells good.

He comes over to support his mate, his arms slinking around the soft troll's sashed middle; he's dressed in Beforian fashion, as well. Loose pants, a long shirt; a sash at the waist.

The sash, plain cotton and not nearly as ornate as Karkat's own, is sun-bleached a bright red.

 

Gamzee purrs in satisfaction.

"I'm sorry." He murmurs, hand settling over Karkat's abdomen -- where their grub should be sitting, fattening in its egg sack.

"Mate of mine, you look all types of miracles." Karkat's right that he's pleased and preening, nuzzling cheek-to-cheek with the mutant.

A quiet, humming coo leaves him; he aches to take Karkat Northside and claim him, fully and officially, as his mate.

He aches for Chahut to slowly enrobe Karkat while Marvus does the same for him, their little caravan joined by others; where they make their vows over the roaring fire and retire to a plush, warm tent for the day.

That needs to wait, though.

It's alright -- Gamzee's patient, and Karkat's worth it.

"Your gastric sac empty?" He asks, an interlude in his preening.

"Either way, my poor mate must be wanting for a good meal. We got us all types of goodies; my poor motherfucker." He can't help it; overwhelming pity mixing with adoration. Gamzee feels like his pusher might crumble inside his thoracic cavity.

 

*

 

His head turns right at the sound. Gamzee's bathed and dressed, lavender in the face and looking a little like he's seeing Karkat for the first time-- Karkat bets he's a sight better than when they first met, wearing something so far beyond his wedding dress (that dress could never , it wishes ).

Gamzee is all dressed up too, to Karkat anyway, coming forward with his hands around his middle. The style looks better on him than Karkat imagined-- because he has imagined it at one point --, and it gives him such a strange, giddy feeling to see his own bright Red on his mate. Karkat just might start preening himself if he wasn't so shy about it, though Gamzee earns a burst of purring by nuzzling at his face, likening him to miracles.

"I'm alright. But don't you look all spiffy," Karkat offers a cheeky, beaming smile, lightly joking; he'd said that to Gamzee before too, though Gamzee looks more than just spiffy . The outfit brings out his more delicate features, again probably just to Karkat but still. Could be a foreign prince right out of his books and looks leagues better.

The way he looks at Karkat is nigh infectious to where he can feel his cheeks heating up, turning all rosy; twitter-pation shouldn't be this infectious, nor make his pusher swell so much (this must be how the word ' love ' feels, like every time Gamzee has said and used such a word with him). He should be embarrassed, being that they're right in front of The Grand Highblood still, but it feels like he could ignore that bit for just a moment.

The subject of food reminds Karkat that he hasn't eaten yet, he and Kurloz just arrived after all (during traveling, Karkat tried not to complain and they ate at dawn when they could rest and that was fine enough considering circumstances) and he'd only taken two pieces of candy and a load of purple geneslime but he'll not talk about that earlier, hardly enough to count as actual eating. Thankfully his gastric sac isn't choosing to rumble at him for not giving a proper offering, and his grub is still too small and in an eggsac to make any complaint.

"I probably should, shouldn't I?" Karkat's hand rests soft on top of Gamzee's, over his belly, answering with another small tease, "Before this one gets it in it's pan that I don't feed it."

 

*

 

"That ain't never gonna happen, Karkat." Gamzee coos, already vowing his scion won't know hunger.

Strife, probably -- but Gamzee doesn't want his scion to know hunger or pain. He wants his scion to know the soft embrace of its ancestors, the comfort of the caravan; full bellies and warm nights.

Maybe it's a pipedream.

The Grand Highblood has stepped off, leaving them to their own devices -- but Gamzee knows where everything is.

 

"C'mon," he hefts up Karkat bridal-style, socked feet dangling delicately from the hem of the robe, "let's get you and our scion fed." He teases, taking his time in traipsing to what has been repurposed as a dining block.

Gamzee sets Karkat down atop a plush pillow and, with Kurloz joining them, they arrange a large platter of food. Stews full of hearty grain, vegetables, and meat; skewered and roasted vegetables and meat; sweet jams and marmalades and natural honey.

There's a salty broth to offset all the richness, alongside a loaf of thick, crusty bread.

All, evidently, stolen from the city.

Kurloz, who is dressed similarly to Gamzee -- but his top is longer, the sleeves tight, the sash black -- takes furtive glances at Karkat.

"That's a lovely dress. Did you dress him, Gamzee?" He asks his blood-brother as the Indigoblood implores his mate to try some of the stew, snugged right up to Karkat's side.

"The Grand Highblood did it. I just happened to find him." Gamzee replies, holding a spoonful of stew up to Karkat's lips.

There is enough distance between Kurloz and Karkat to keep him from encroaching upon the couple's territory, but he's noticeably closer than before; and Gamzee isn't growling or hissing, seemingly fine with Kurloz's involvement.

The elder even pushes a small dish of fluffed, white cream toward Karkat, alongside a slice of bread.

"Here, this is called 'clotted cream'. It's very sweet. Bad for us. Good for you." He murmurs, treading lightly in case either should snap at him.

 

*

 

Gamzee's affection just might make him melt sooner or later. The Grand Highblood has already left the block, though so do they, Gamzee lifting Karkat up in a way he just might swoon for it, lightly grasping his mate at the front of his shirt and grinning.

He's set down and in front of a spread of food-- Karkat won't doubt the possibility of everything being 'commandeered' stolen, from the pillow he's settled on to the lush of foodstuffs, and somehow he doesn't feel as bad about it as he thinks he normally would considering it'd otherwise go to waste since the entire city is, you know, decimated .

Of course he looks straight to the honey and jams, though Gamzee's able to distract him with a more substantial spoonful of stew.

Kurloz sits close by too, commenting on Karkat's dress. He's dressed up too, though his shirt has it's differences from Gamzee's, like how he doesn't have Karkat's color on him; the style also looks really, very nice on him.

Gamzee's pressed right up against him and Karkat's only half-shy about being fed this time, speaking through a mouthful behind his hand, "Mmhm mffh mrsshm mph hhmmflhh..," ("You don't gotta, I can do it myself, y'know..").

He's offered a neatly detailed bowl of something creamy, clotted cream, Karkat humming in surprise and bidden-back excitement, swallowing down stew, "They had that when I was still at Ampora's castle," Except that Karkat hadn't had any of it, the first couple of days he'd refused food especially if Ampora wanted to eat with him present. He clicks his tongue at the memory, muttering under his breath, "..awful, good-for-nothing, low-down dumbass bastard..."

But! He doesn't have a reason to hold back and be stubborn now, cheerily thanking Kurloz and taking a spoon to the cream; it's thick but soft, and spreads smoothly on the slice of bread he has. The fact that it's pure sweet cream just makes him melt into Gamzee, a singularly pleased chirp as he bites in.

 

*

 

"Ugly castle, too." Gamzee purrs, an arm lacing itself around Karkat's hips while the breeder just melts at the taste of the food.

"Even the city was rather ugly." Kurloz murmurs, getting a little laugh from Gamzee.

Both Indigobloods take their share of food, feeding Karkat at various intervals; most of the sweeter foods are reserved for the breeder, seeing as he'll need them.

 

"So, our ancestor..." Kurloz begins, Gamzee's gaze shifting toward him, "what does he mean to accomplish with all of this?"

Gamzee hesitates, but only for a moment. He'd already come to terms with the idea himself.

"It's to lure The Empress onto land. He means to kill her." He tries to keep a steady voice to avoid upsetting Karkat, but Kurloz's reaction is almost to bristle.

"He'll die." The elder Indigo asserts.

"Alone, probably -- but I'll be there. You'll be there, too, if you ever want a chance to settle down." Although, three Indigobloods against The Empress and, supposedly, an extremely powerful, artificially enhanced Goldblood... Gamzee doesn't know if they'll die, but it sounds like they will.

It sounds the same way to Kurloz.

"If we're all there, who's going to take care of Karkat? Your pupa?" He asks, to which Gamzee nearly waves him off.

"Who the motherfucker do you think ? Chahut and the others. The twins were having a moment, but my mate's basically their Lusus, and Chahut'll take good care of Karkat. Everyone'll take good care of him if we..." Gamzee doesn't finish the thought.

"And, the Limeblood?" Kurloz dares to ask.

"Same answer. She'll go up Northside with Chahut and everyone else. They safer up there." Gamzee scratches Karkat beneath the chin, coaxing him into a kiss -- more for himself, because he doesn't want to die, but he doesn't want to keep fleeing.

Even if they could just settle permanently Northside, he'd be glad for it.

 

*

 

Karkat muffles through a kiss until his mouth is free to make proper words; hard not to hear the conversation while he's literally in the middle.

"What-- why-- why's it sound like you're planning to just...walk into dying?"

To him, it sounds like Gamzee's trying to leave him again, leave and die and then what? Even Kurloz would be going with going with Gamzee this time, it seems. They'd both be going with their ancestor, meet the Empress and die.

"If you're so set on it, is there no..no other way?" Any other way that doesn't sound like his mate will die is preferred, if Karkat's being honest.

 

*

 

“Don’t say it like that.” Gamzee refrains from grumbling.

“Every time I up and leave, you say it’s like I’m off to go die — and don’t you want it to be so you don’t feel like that? It ain’t my fault. It’s Her , and she ain’t gonna react too kindly to find most of her Empire burnt the fuck down.” He pulls Karkat into his side, huffing quietly.

“If we want the right to settle down without drones cullin’ us,then we gotta earn it. This’ll be how we earn it.” His tone leaves no room for suggestion, no room for argument.

“I don’t want my scion raised like me.”

 

*

 

"The first time you left me, you said 'The Mirthful Messiahs await me with open arms', word for bloody word," Karkat's voice has an edge to it, "If that doesn't sound like someone going off to die then I don't know what. So excuse me if that's what it feels like every time you've told me you have to go." Sure, Gamzee came back, in spite of being full of holes and bleeding out, but that's beside the point.

He's shaking, only a little but still, trying to keep his face from scrunching up, but it's only doing that because he's trying to keep from crying too. "... Yeah, I don't want to feel like that.....I don't want to lose you either.."

Karkat knows he wants a lot of things, doesn't want some things, too. He's picky and choosy and selfish about things like that, and he's not going to stop being like that because Karkat Vantas is greedy for the thought of living out a peaceful life with Gamzee and their grubling, and everyone in their troupe-- greedier still to see the people he misses from his village but that's something to be worked on.

Trying not to cry is absolutely harder for him than it is for anyone else, and to that effect, even Karkat's stubbornness can't stem off a couple of tears from rolling off his lashes, delicate hands fisting in Gamzee's shirt.

"...at least promise that you're not gonna die. Even if you lie to me, that's fine. Just this time you can lie to me like that...."

 

*

 

The mutant knows just how to tug at his pusher, delicate hands fisted in the front of his shirt.

For a moment, Gamzee considers denying his mate.

He lifts his mate’s face and delicately thumbs off his tears, careful to keep his own expression neutral. His pusher steady.

“I promise I’ll come back to you.” The words are out without his consent, and he’s guiding his mate’s cheek to his chest, chirring and cooing.

The beat of his pusher is slow but strong; steady as Gamzee holds Karkat close, encourages the mutant to cling to him.

“I’ll come back to you, Karkat. This’s just something we gotta do. I don’t want our grubling to always feel like its in danger.” His voice is low, soothing.

“Can you make a promise to me?” He curls over the smaller troll, sapping his warmth.

“Whenever you get all in your own head, can a brother put his fronds on his thorax and think on the grubling in there? How you’ll love it? ‘Cause I know you will. The twins ain’t even your own, but you act like their caretaker.” It’s just a diversion, he knows, but Gamzee doesn’t have anything better to give Karkat.

 

Not right now, anyway.

A home would be nice, but they have to fight for even that .

 

“I bet they miss you.” He adds, stroking down Karkat’s spine.

“Once they’re over their scare, they’ll be at your legs again, all preening for your attention. Chitti’s gonna be a pupa, too. My poor mate’s gonna have his fronds full with all these lil’ ones.”

 

*

 

Gamzee even sounds like he believes his own words, whether or not he means them; that's fine, Karkat can believe them too, take them at their face value and pretend he didn't just ask Gamzee to lie to him.

He brings Karkat's face into his chest, puts him right where he can hear his heart, feel it if he focused, held still (if he wasn't silently sobbing now into his mate's shirt). Karkat wants to cling to him, even if he has to hold on while Gamzee goes to do the impossible even if he has to hold him by that red thread because he's too far; even though Karkat told himself he never would again, because how can he let Gamzee go with the possibility that he won't come back?

That he asks Karkat to make his own promise has him press harder into his mate's chest.

 

"I can-- I will . It's ours , of course I'll love it. I'll love them," he's speaking-- crying --more into the shirt than anything, but that's the truth of it anyway. Even for the twins and Chitti, he'll love them-- already loves them like they're his.

Even though he remembers the last time he was with them how upset and afraid of him they were, how they couldn't stand to be near him. If they're still afraid of him, that's fine, it's Karkat's own fault anyway. He did tell Gamzee to lie to him.

Even if Gamzee's wrong about the pupae missing him, the thought of that is nice, of Karkat returning and all of them wanting to bury themselves into his sides, into his warmth. As much as he may want that, he's.... prepared, if they're still not too keen on him.

"Yeah I'm gonna have my fronds full, so...so you'd better come back to me..," as if that's the only reason for Gamzee to come back; as if Karkat's even going to be alone with the twins and Chitti. Regardless, even if it's a lie, Karkat would rather not deem his mate an oathbreaker.

 

*

 

Kurloz has taken his leave on silent feet — he may be privy to Karkat’s body, to Karkat’s pleasure, but he’s not privy to something like this.

 

Gamzee curls protectively over his mate, chirring and cooing and nuzzling into his hair while the mutant wets his top with tears.

“I’ll come back to you, mate-of-mine.” His claws comb gingerly through soft curls, his ears flicking.

He’s not lying.

If there is anything left of him, of his body, it’ll be taken back to Karkat.

 

“Hey,” he rumbles quietly, pulling the mutant onto his lap, “if our grub ain’t ‘nough, if it’s light out and you’re all on your lonesome and you feel like walking into the Sun... try giving that red string in your head a tug.” Gamzee doesn’t know if he should be encouraging Karkat, especially when he scared the twins and did whatever he did to floor everyone in that tent, but he remembers being inside his mate’s head.

He remembers the thread between him and Karkat.

The highblood lowers his lips to his mate’s ear, “give it a tug, the one that leads to me, and I’ll do the same. As long as I’m here, our thread’ll be there, won’t it?” He kisses Karkat’s ear, wondering if his mate could ever end up like the Limeblood.

He hopes not.

Gamzee doesn’t know what he’d do if that ever happened.

 

*

 

In spite of everything, knowing everything (knowing that what they intend to do is basically suicide), Karkat can take those words as an oath.

 

He doesn't want to move his head from Gamzee, resulting in being tugged and coaxed into his lap, ear twitching for the next words. Freezing as Gamzee even suggests Karkat feeling off even while caring for their grubling-- rigid altogether at the notion of even doing any of that again-- never again, never never --, said and kissed sweetly into his ear to tug at the one that leads to Gamzee, as if he wouldn't mind. As if what Kurloz said about Indigobloods hating others in their headspaces didn't apply at all to his mate.

 

And he's felt it too. Felt the way the threads make his fingers twitch. As if acknowledging them once made them permanent, a constant in the back of his mind, a perpetuated whisper of something within his grasp; everything.

 

The thought is enough to make Karkat tremble, and he can't bear to face Gamzee and agree, so he just whimpers into his mate's top, against where his pusher beats through fabric, through skin.

 

Notes:

an end of all.

1178 days.

1178 days, and for it to end like this, isn't it a shame?

 

I don't know if I ever would add more to this or even just update with my own thoughts, but I will move forward, with the rest.

Until things either come to fruition, or I get to the end, what is the real travesty?

Notes:

I've come to realize and understand that maybe this may not have been the best course of actions. My friend, if you've found this, first of all hello and I'm glad you're alright (or I hope you're alright). Second, as long as it's you telling me, I'll remove this from AO3, no fuss. To you, and everyone else, please be safe.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of UnGrand