capeandcowllogs | make mine a big mac

Entry tags:

make mine a big mac

WHO: khisanth, karkat vantas.
WHERE: louisiana swamp.
WHEN: april 6.
WARNINGS: khisanth. also karkat's foul mouth.
SUMMARY: apparently khisanth is in the mood for takeout.
FORMAT: quicklog.

[ karkat has found himself perched upon a large boulder, communicator out, perusing the network, looking for someone to be annoyed with. what could possibly go wrong here. certainly not an ambush from a horrifying dragon. that would be absurd. ]

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No! [ SO REVOLTED. ] Why are you so bulgebreakingly gross? No wonder you took Gamzee in.

At least I don't collect faces.

[ ... ]

Okay, yeah, granted.

[ sweet victory. She takes a few quiet moments to finish her burger, then: ] He hasn't killed anyone lately, has he?

He's wanted to, but he hasn't acted on it. I told you I would keep him in check. I keep telling everyone that, however everyone appears to either be suffering from collective short term memory loss or selective deafness. [ there's more than a hint of bitterness in that last part. ]

Well, he hasn't exactly inspired very much faith in any of us.

[ Food mostly done, she's happy to just sit back and sip her soda. Aww yeah, carbonation. ]

I often wonder why I decided to free him from his prison at all.

He's done some pretty heavy stuff, I acknowledge that and my own responsibility in the matter for not being present to prevent it. I state it now, on an official basis: past Karkat was a negligent slop of congealed pus curdling in the rancid juices of its own failure. I'm not asking you to have faith in his psychotic faygo sprayed ass, frankly I'd be concerned for your mental state if you did, I'm asking to not have my moirallegiance constantly undermined at every motherfucking turn.

[ this rant is more meant for terezi and kanaya than it is for khisanth. sorry, dragon! he's been stewing in this for ages and you happened to touch just the right- or wrong -nerve. ]

[ She watches him thoughtfully for that, falling into one of those lovely instances where she manages to look a little cold and reptillian even while she's human. ]

Why do you care if he kills anyone?

Because I'm his moirail. He's dangerous, a danger to everyone around him and a danger to himself. He's my obligation. He's my best friend, and it's my job to protect him, and protect everyone else from him.

[ you're in for it now khisanth. ]

The quadrants prove to be out of most other species' intellectual grasp due to their incredible cultural advancement, but we have four types of romance, and ours, the pale quadrant, or moirallegiance, is based upon pity, and the pacification of a dangerous partner, and upon the finding of your better half. Your other half. By definition, moirails complete one another in such a way as to allow the dangerous parties to function as members of society without causing undue damage to the rest of the species or to themselves. Violence is hardly discouraged in our society, but allowing it to run rampant would mean the end of our race before you could say nookcrusted grubfuckers. Are you following, lizard breath?

[ Uh huh. That impassive stare isn't going anywhere, and in a few seconds she adds a thoughtful sip from her drink. ]

How old are you?

I'm six.

[ well that gets a surprised blink. ]

You're six years old?

[ ugh crazy human time apparently crosses over into other species' as well. ]

No, I'm six sweeps old. In the brain dead excuse for time measurement of years I'd be about twelve or thirteen.

I see. [ only kind of, but more importantly: whatever. ]

You're awfully young to be so invested in someone.

By troll standards, no, I'm not. We don't have the leisure of waiting until we're older to fill our quadrants like humans, if we don't get our red and black filled by the time the Imperial Drones arrive, we're culled. It's a literal matter of life and death for us. The conciliatory quadrants are less urgent, but it's still encouraged to have them full as soon as possible. Try to be culturally sensitive and think outside your own little sphere.

[ well she follows most of that, but the important part of that seems to be: ] You seem quick to placate your Imperial Drones, but less enthusiastic to placate the danger more immediate to you. That's an odd sense of preservation.

What? [ did he miss something. ]

Most black dragons would have melted you after the first insult.

[ AUGH. there is a pause in which, yes, a flash of horror crosses his face before he clumsily replaces the scowl. THERE IS A PAUSE IN WHICH HE GRASPS FOR WORDS. ]

... So why didn't you?

[ Well, the horror is nice, but that's a terribly irritating question. She purses her lips and glances away. ]

You're the friend of my... ward.

Your what. [ he doesn't understand this word... ]

[ gross, don't make her explain it. time to amend. ]

You're Gamzee's friend.

Oh. [ ... ] So why haven't you melted Gamzee? The stench of burning clown?

I'm responsible for him. [ She doesn't sound very pleased about that, though. ]

So am I.

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onblackwings - 2012-05-23 05:28 (UTC) - Expand

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crab - 2012-05-26 10:46 (UTC) - Expand

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