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corvigryphTITLE: Cautiously Approach
SHIP: Gamzee<3Tavros
RATING: T
CHARACTERS: Gamzee, Tavros, Tavrisprite, Vriska is mentioned, but not there
SIDE PAIRINGS: none
MAJOR TAGS: body horror (maybe?), gif
ADDITIONAL TAGS: ridiculous finery, explosions, surreal dreamscapes, terrible rap
SUMMARY: Two dorks take a nap and find each other in the bubbles.
WORK COUNT: 1198 words, 4 images
A shriek rang through the air; Gamzee jolted out of his weak and fragmented rest, and staggered to his feet with a pitiful honk without bothering to dust himself off. He scanned his bleary, crusty eyes over his location. Motherfuck. He could have sworn he was still on the meteor.
This scene was familiar to him. The land stretched on for miles and hosted a whopping, lively, population of fossils, white trees, and trippy ass balloons, as far as his lookstubs could scope, save for the one, lone figure in the distance; the source of this rude sound, that is wreaking a wicked havoc on his auditory clots and think pan without a doubt. He was on Land of Crypts and Helium, the Maid was nowhere to be seen, and when his pan began to catch up with his waking body (heaving and wheezing), it dawned on him that this was a dream bubble, and this memory was either his, Vriska's or... his gut tightened.
Gamzee: Cautiously approach Tavrisprite.
There were too many sensations going on all at once and, for that matter, too many memories whizzing through their pan, like their pan was metaphirically a video broadcasting box, and, a little pan goblin was gleefully flipping the channels, also metaphorically, and with reckless abandon. Tavrisprite hated it. Tavrisprite hated EEEEEEEEVERYTHING in fact, including, but not limited too, that poorly constructed 'metaphor' they just pulled out of their hypothetical ass just now. What were they thinking?? Why is this happening?? There were no answers in store for the rattled and livid sprite, and they wouldn't have spared a moment to listen even if there were. They were utterly consumed with negative feelings about everything, about themselves, but also, about the purple asshole slowly making his way over with his hand raised in a gesture of casual amity. MOCKING them with his coy smile. What a jackass.
No sooner did Gamzee take his next step, Tavrisprite exploded like a landmine, and he went flying once more, but this time, he had company lodged somewhere between his ribcage and his gut, but the pair crashed into something taut and elastic , and Gamzee ricocheted off of the surface and landed right on top of the ninja before he could even make out who they were. When he opened his eyes, he realized that they had been blasted straight into an adjacent memory of his own Land of Tents and Mirth.
Tavros was still reeling from this rude awakening. No. Not just the waking up part, but this entire memory, or dream, was bullshit. He never liked revisiting the negative memory, where he was a sprite with Vriska because, for starters, that would be counter-productive, he thought, to putting his history with her behind him. The whole thing bothered him a lot more than he liked to admit out loud and he really wished he could just leave it behind as easily as he left that ship, its captain, and the morally questionable expedition he took part in.
And something was digging into his side, in an annoying way. "Ow, get off me,"
Gamzee complied, making a clumsy, but quick production of detangling his husk, and finally rested his peepers on the corporal, ghostly miracle that was presented to him like the sweetest, most pan rottingly delicious pie, that a motherfucker ever did see. Tavros was here, right now, on a memory of his own LOTAM even, just like old times. Shit, now he has to say something, anything at all, anything to break this awkwardness and sow some mirth in this debacle.
"honk". Brilliant, Gamzee. Flawless.
Too bad Tavros was less impressed by this greeting. "Really, honk, that is the thing you have to say to me, in light of events that transpired, in the past and also right now, and your subsequent role in them?" his everything hurt, but mostly, his pan ache was getting worse, and Tavros clenched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. Uugh. Was this how Jade felt when he talked to her the last time, before he died? No, now is not the time to focus on the past too much, he'd done enough of that to last a lifetime. His pan was still buzzing like a swarm of surly honey bees.
"sorry brother. I just got my mirth on at full, motherfucking capacity. GETTING MY PEEPSTUBS ON AT THE MOTHERFUCKING VISAGE OF MY CHILLEST MOTHERFUCKING NINJA. honk."
Owwww nooo, no no, Tavros was going to protest the too loud fluctuations of Gamzee's voice, and maybe also, possibly make further assertive demands for an explanation, on the events that led up to him having this memory and getting dragged along on a stupid, fruitless adventure in the first place and, also Gamzee's role as a catylist in them, but when he opened his eyes, his gaze was on a purple, ostentatious cod piece instead of a face, and the first thing he blurted out was "What, the,,, what are you wearing?"
Gamzee couldn't help himself anymore. He grinned wider before bursting out in loud, honking laughter. Tavros may have been salty with him, to say the least but he was just too motherfucking pleased to see him again, flesh to moving, talking ghost-flesh. He'd worry about the salty parts later.
" Oh, my most chillest of brothers, I could be getting to tossing the same motherfucking curiosities at you. YOU FEEL ME MOTHERFUCKER?" He pointed at Tavros shorts. The pirate ensemble was kind of charming, and while Tavros grew more visibly annoyed, Gamzee just couldn't help but smile until his face hurt, and laugh until tears beaded his lookstubs and his gut knotted up even more. Tavros blushed.
"Yeah well, I think we have covered the topic, pertaining to our respective outfits for a long enough time, and, I'm going to steer the topic back to a more pressing point, which is, that I have a bone to pick with you," He paused. "Uhh, about this memory, the wrongful prototyping, and also the mysterious role you played in making it a real thing that happened," Thank goodness. He managed to assert himself in a timely and firm manner, and avoid an erotic slip of the tongue, that would have sent Gamzee further away from actually answering his inquiry, and instead, probably laughing a lot more.
Gamzee began to settle his tits down and pointedly looked at a direction that wasn't at Tavros. His grin drew back into a lazy smile that didn't meet his eyes. "shit. I was all up and going with the action that felt right in my pump biscuit. Going with the whimsy, FLOWING LIKE THE MOTHERFUCKING STYX, but my inquiry brother, IS CAN YOUR SLAMS STILL MOTHERFUCKIN TRANSFIX. honk"
Oh no. Ohhhh no, he did not just go there, not now, this didn't even really qualify, as a proper explanation! Tavros: Resist the urge to rap with your old buddy.
",,,"
"Oh yes, I guess, I can still aggress, your clots with my fires, that are incidentally, too sick to oppress, and metaphorically too dope so, abandon all hope."
You could not do it. You could not resist the urge.
SHIP: Gamzee<3Tavros
RATING: T
CHARACTERS: Gamzee, Tavros, Tavrisprite, Vriska is mentioned, but not there
SIDE PAIRINGS: none
MAJOR TAGS: body horror (maybe?), gif
ADDITIONAL TAGS: ridiculous finery, explosions, surreal dreamscapes, terrible rap
SUMMARY: Two dorks take a nap and find each other in the bubbles.
WORK COUNT: 1198 words, 4 images
A shriek rang through the air; Gamzee jolted out of his weak and fragmented rest, and staggered to his feet with a pitiful honk without bothering to dust himself off. He scanned his bleary, crusty eyes over his location. Motherfuck. He could have sworn he was still on the meteor.
This scene was familiar to him. The land stretched on for miles and hosted a whopping, lively, population of fossils, white trees, and trippy ass balloons, as far as his lookstubs could scope, save for the one, lone figure in the distance; the source of this rude sound, that is wreaking a wicked havoc on his auditory clots and think pan without a doubt. He was on Land of Crypts and Helium, the Maid was nowhere to be seen, and when his pan began to catch up with his waking body (heaving and wheezing), it dawned on him that this was a dream bubble, and this memory was either his, Vriska's or... his gut tightened.
Gamzee: Cautiously approach Tavrisprite.
There were too many sensations going on all at once and, for that matter, too many memories whizzing through their pan, like their pan was metaphirically a video broadcasting box, and, a little pan goblin was gleefully flipping the channels, also metaphorically, and with reckless abandon. Tavrisprite hated it. Tavrisprite hated EEEEEEEEVERYTHING in fact, including, but not limited too, that poorly constructed 'metaphor' they just pulled out of their hypothetical ass just now. What were they thinking?? Why is this happening?? There were no answers in store for the rattled and livid sprite, and they wouldn't have spared a moment to listen even if there were. They were utterly consumed with negative feelings about everything, about themselves, but also, about the purple asshole slowly making his way over with his hand raised in a gesture of casual amity. MOCKING them with his coy smile. What a jackass.
No sooner did Gamzee take his next step, Tavrisprite exploded like a landmine, and he went flying once more, but this time, he had company lodged somewhere between his ribcage and his gut, but the pair crashed into something taut and elastic , and Gamzee ricocheted off of the surface and landed right on top of the ninja before he could even make out who they were. When he opened his eyes, he realized that they had been blasted straight into an adjacent memory of his own Land of Tents and Mirth.
Tavros was still reeling from this rude awakening. No. Not just the waking up part, but this entire memory, or dream, was bullshit. He never liked revisiting the negative memory, where he was a sprite with Vriska because, for starters, that would be counter-productive, he thought, to putting his history with her behind him. The whole thing bothered him a lot more than he liked to admit out loud and he really wished he could just leave it behind as easily as he left that ship, its captain, and the morally questionable expedition he took part in.
And something was digging into his side, in an annoying way. "Ow, get off me,"
Gamzee complied, making a clumsy, but quick production of detangling his husk, and finally rested his peepers on the corporal, ghostly miracle that was presented to him like the sweetest, most pan rottingly delicious pie, that a motherfucker ever did see. Tavros was here, right now, on a memory of his own LOTAM even, just like old times. Shit, now he has to say something, anything at all, anything to break this awkwardness and sow some mirth in this debacle.
"honk". Brilliant, Gamzee. Flawless.
Too bad Tavros was less impressed by this greeting. "Really, honk, that is the thing you have to say to me, in light of events that transpired, in the past and also right now, and your subsequent role in them?" his everything hurt, but mostly, his pan ache was getting worse, and Tavros clenched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. Uugh. Was this how Jade felt when he talked to her the last time, before he died? No, now is not the time to focus on the past too much, he'd done enough of that to last a lifetime. His pan was still buzzing like a swarm of surly honey bees.
"sorry brother. I just got my mirth on at full, motherfucking capacity. GETTING MY PEEPSTUBS ON AT THE MOTHERFUCKING VISAGE OF MY CHILLEST MOTHERFUCKING NINJA. honk."
Owwww nooo, no no, Tavros was going to protest the too loud fluctuations of Gamzee's voice, and maybe also, possibly make further assertive demands for an explanation, on the events that led up to him having this memory and getting dragged along on a stupid, fruitless adventure in the first place and, also Gamzee's role as a catylist in them, but when he opened his eyes, his gaze was on a purple, ostentatious cod piece instead of a face, and the first thing he blurted out was "What, the,,, what are you wearing?"
Gamzee couldn't help himself anymore. He grinned wider before bursting out in loud, honking laughter. Tavros may have been salty with him, to say the least but he was just too motherfucking pleased to see him again, flesh to moving, talking ghost-flesh. He'd worry about the salty parts later.
" Oh, my most chillest of brothers, I could be getting to tossing the same motherfucking curiosities at you. YOU FEEL ME MOTHERFUCKER?" He pointed at Tavros shorts. The pirate ensemble was kind of charming, and while Tavros grew more visibly annoyed, Gamzee just couldn't help but smile until his face hurt, and laugh until tears beaded his lookstubs and his gut knotted up even more. Tavros blushed.
"Yeah well, I think we have covered the topic, pertaining to our respective outfits for a long enough time, and, I'm going to steer the topic back to a more pressing point, which is, that I have a bone to pick with you," He paused. "Uhh, about this memory, the wrongful prototyping, and also the mysterious role you played in making it a real thing that happened," Thank goodness. He managed to assert himself in a timely and firm manner, and avoid an erotic slip of the tongue, that would have sent Gamzee further away from actually answering his inquiry, and instead, probably laughing a lot more.
Gamzee began to settle his tits down and pointedly looked at a direction that wasn't at Tavros. His grin drew back into a lazy smile that didn't meet his eyes. "shit. I was all up and going with the action that felt right in my pump biscuit. Going with the whimsy, FLOWING LIKE THE MOTHERFUCKING STYX, but my inquiry brother, IS CAN YOUR SLAMS STILL MOTHERFUCKIN TRANSFIX. honk"
Oh no. Ohhhh no, he did not just go there, not now, this didn't even really qualify, as a proper explanation! Tavros: Resist the urge to rap with your old buddy.
",,,"
"Oh yes, I guess, I can still aggress, your clots with my fires, that are incidentally, too sick to oppress, and metaphorically too dope so, abandon all hope."
You could not do it. You could not resist the urge.
