Gamzee: Learn about obscure cults. ==> Closed.

samsaara:

He was quite the touchy-feely one, wasn’t he? Not that the Embryon saw anything wrong with that. Some people had a thing for that sort of stuff, hell if he was in any position to think lowly of it. Regardless of the mess being made of his hands. With the assurance that he wasn’t at risk of being torn apart and eaten for dinner anytime soon, there wasn’t much reason to bother shaking off whatever made the troll comfortable, or… whatever was going on in his head. The way he was being stared at made Serph wonder if he really wanted to think too much about how the apparently non-threatening thing worked.

His free hand mimicked the grabby motions a little clumsily, before finding their way to his own face — granted, the wrong side, but he had the basic idea of placement. He tapped at his chin where his precious Water Crown would be if someone flipped him the other way, and lifted an eyebrow in questioning. While the blue coloration remained, the in and out fadey effect called it a day. Maybe the glow was still a bit bothersome, demon or not. The last time someone who wasn’t familiar with life in the Junkyard had seen the effects of the virus, they’d run half a mile in the other direction. Gamzee got points for just standing there doing… stuff…

… and catching Serph continuously off guard with his sudden and unexpected questions. 

Before he could ask what exactly the other was referring to, or what it meant for something to be beautiful (he’d heard that word before; twice before, in fact. Once uttered in sincerity, and once with a vile, sickening undertone that made him frown at the memory), Serph diverted his gaze and lowered his head a fraction, thinking.

Argilla had once asked him why they were alive, what purpose an existence of bloodshed and endless warfare could possibly have, and to this day, he was still looking for an answer. Argilla had grown — they all had, in their own ways, drank from their newfound ‘humanity’ and become drunk on life and purpose and morals and karma — and yet… Serph was still fighting to make sense of everything around him, like he had been left behind at some point to catch up on his own. His humanity was buried somewhere deep down, out of sight. He was still searching for what made life worth living. Beautiful. Whatever you would call it. 

Since meeting with the Lokapala, thinking about his own existence had become something of a joke. “You’re a machine,  you don’t have the right or ability to be alive; you’re a monster, you don’t understand anything;” he didn’t focus on the ridiculing much, but the words he had been so graciously met with in the real world lingered in his head nonetheless, leaving him to wonder whether he had much of a life or whether all he could do was sit back and enjoy the lives of others. Existential nonsense was hard to focus on when you were programmed against having freedom of thought. Gamzee might as well have asked him if he’d ever balanced a walrus on his nose in his underwear. That would probably be a bit more likely.

Amidst his little recap, he didn’t once stop to consider that he was taking the words of a strange little creature who liked licking strange substances off of people’s hands a bit too seriously, but his frown had deepened enough to snap Serph back to attention. He shook his head from side to side slowly, almost hesitantly, rather than verbally announcing that he hadn’t been doing much useful motherfuckin’ thinking so much as running around in circles. Intentional or not, that had been a loaded question. He was concerned about not having much of an answer to give that didn’t make him feel more confused than he already was.

“Why do you ask?”

Being touchy-feely, as long as he wasn’t treading where he wasn’t supposed to or being rough, was alright, right? Hugging, hand holding, high fives — those were all positive actions and could only elicit even more pleasant feelings. Being in a comfortable, constant state of mirth was a big part of Gamzee and a sentiment he liked sharing. Most of his comrades seemed uninterested in his business, but his free-spirited come-what-may-and-embrace-it wasn’t really suited for everyone and questioning various temperaments wasn’t as interesting as marveling at bright colorful lights and indulging in sounds that came from nowhere to grace his eardrums. Like the clapping of waves or the hissing from his Faygo bottle. Not everything was meant to be understood.

“Yeaaah!” Wrong side,but Gamzee endorsed the motion, confirmed even, that it was indeed his face that he was all caught up in. The mark might not have been winking at him anymore, but it was still both striking — to a hypnotizing degree. Perhaps he’d be frightened off if he weren’t exposed to miracles everyday, but here we had a veteran in our midst. “You got some wicked motherfucking magic coming right the fuck out of your face.” Maybe this meant that whatever he believed in was becoming active on their..its..whatever, respective planet? Signs and shit, how do they work? It didn’t really matter. Mysteries existed to keep the magic in business.

To think there were creatures who never took a moment to take a step back and regard life as the most beautiful, miraculous thing of all time was disheartening to some level, and this is what Serph was implying. Again, a lot of what he happened to say or put thought into seemed to go over a lot of heads. Without life in the first place, there wouldn’t be anything to behold or marvel at. He and Serph talking like this was the very outer layer of a miracle in a miracle in a miracle, and the very first miracle that birthed all the rest was life! There was nothing not stunningly, mysteriously beautiful about that..! “Everywhere I look, motherfucking miracles. We was just chilling here with those circles being their bad selfs, all smiling and shit, then they’re all showing us the fillings and it’s like your face is telling me you wanna have a fucking party!”

“Think about it.” In the meantime, since Serph’s hands were both busy and his face was still rather shiny, Gamzee mushed his hand against the ever-fascinating facial glow. His touches were still light, despite being invasive (and slimy), and innocent. He wanted to know if it felt warm, or cold, or if perhaps some of that magic would travel to his own head (like he needed anymore of that). Maybe it would make his new buddy feel good?
In the depths of these thoughts and actions, his thoughts may have strayed somewhere slightly morbid, thinking briefly that Serph’s head would make a nice addition to his collection..wherever it may be. Probably in a heap beside his horns. He wasn’t interested in beheading the Embryon, no — but if he were to keel over for some reason his topmost part would make a fine keepsake.

It was a compliment.

Sure, he’s collected all sorts of heads, but none he’s faced — hoarded — gotten his grips on thus far — looked quite as handsome as this living one here. Maybe in human terms his sudden bias seemed shallow and nonsensical, but that held no bearings whatsoever here. With a full grin, his eyes came to a close and his head bowed forward, just enough so that their foreheads weren’t touching, but the foremost part of his messy hair meshed against the male’s much neater, angular bangs.

“What I’m straight up saying’s that you’re pretty motherfucking beautiful, man.”

(Source: subjuggulating)

Originally posted by subjuggulating. | Tagged: samsaara | Tagged: subjuggulating | 17 notes

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