"...My most insincere apologies, your great grubfucking Condesce, for failing to deliver a gog-damned epic poem of 'sick burns' for the delight of your discerning noise holes." And you look at her, and at him, and you couldn't keep your voice from dropping quiet and deadly if you tried, and so you don't. "But anyone tries to take one of the sixteen of us away, they'll have to cull me first."
There is no way in hell you can stay here anymore, not with the way they stare at you, not after what you said -- shit, what the hell was that, maybe you'd do better with a tattoo on your face, Karkat Vantas Is The Hugest Paleslut Since Troll Debbie Shooshpaps Dallas, at least people'd be warned. You drop your arms from their necks -- it's just gotten embarrassing, like it's not a threat anymore, like you actually mean it -- and you stalk away, chin held up high like you're not fucking ashamed.
Gamzee. Where the fuck is Gamzee.
You'll apologize to him later, he deserves it, because you're pretty sure Tavros had a bit of the look of a young jade debutante starting to let herself get charmed against her best judgment by the roguish yet oddly alluring rustblood the Mother Grub warned her about. But when you walk up to him he takes one look at your face and his arm lifts in invitation, and you slot under it and against his side like you're a fighter jet returning to the mothership.
His arm around your shoulders is the farthest from threatening, or mocking. It's safe and sheltering and comfortable, and this is where you belong. You don't want anyone else. You don't.
He doesn't question you. What happened, why you're growling. He just goes "okay, bro?" and you two fall into step like you should be unable to, with the ridiculous length of his legs. You nod because you don't really want to talk about it, and he drops it because he can tell.
Eventually you're even a little sorry about the barging in, but hopefully watching how good Gamzee is at pitying people will make Tavros less nervous about saying hell yes. Not that you really have any idea what's attractive in any flushed way in your moirail, but seriously. You guess Tavros' shyness is what Gamzee finds so pitiful about him. Or maybe how utterly blackrom-handicapped...
Nope, sorry, the only response this invokes in you is the platonic kind of pity, because honestly that's just sad. Blackrom is awesome. (Even though you've technically never had that quadrant filled.)
Yeah, romance. Romance is nice to think about. The rest of your assholes will have to sort themselves out for a bit.
-- end scene 1 HAH! (there's a bit more with karkat but it works better along with the gamzee bit. >__>)
no subject
There is no way in hell you can stay here anymore, not with the way they stare at you, not after what you said -- shit, what the hell was that, maybe you'd do better with a tattoo on your face, Karkat Vantas Is The Hugest Paleslut Since Troll Debbie Shooshpaps Dallas, at least people'd be warned. You drop your arms from their necks -- it's just gotten embarrassing, like it's not a threat anymore, like you actually mean it -- and you stalk away, chin held up high like you're not fucking ashamed.
Gamzee. Where the fuck is Gamzee.
You'll apologize to him later, he deserves it, because you're pretty sure Tavros had a bit of the look of a young jade debutante starting to let herself get charmed against her best judgment by the roguish yet oddly alluring rustblood the Mother Grub warned her about. But when you walk up to him he takes one look at your face and his arm lifts in invitation, and you slot under it and against his side like you're a fighter jet returning to the mothership.
His arm around your shoulders is the farthest from threatening, or mocking. It's safe and sheltering and comfortable, and this is where you belong. You don't want anyone else. You don't.
He doesn't question you. What happened, why you're growling. He just goes "okay, bro?" and you two fall into step like you should be unable to, with the ridiculous length of his legs. You nod because you don't really want to talk about it, and he drops it because he can tell.
Eventually you're even a little sorry about the barging in, but hopefully watching how good Gamzee is at pitying people will make Tavros less nervous about saying hell yes. Not that you really have any idea what's attractive in any flushed way in your moirail, but seriously. You guess Tavros' shyness is what Gamzee finds so pitiful about him. Or maybe how utterly blackrom-handicapped...
Nope, sorry, the only response this invokes in you is the platonic kind of pity, because honestly that's just sad. Blackrom is awesome. (Even though you've technically never had that quadrant filled.)
Yeah, romance. Romance is nice to think about. The rest of your assholes will have to sort themselves out for a bit.
-- end scene 1 HAH! (there's a bit more with karkat but it works better along with the gamzee bit. >__>)