*Darkleer hasn't been bothered by caves in quite some time. In fact, he's gotten used to living in one ever since his banishment. But this is not his cave
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Don't worry. Just stay still and quiet, and don't follow me no matter what happens.
[He creeps ahead out into the open, keeping his gun trained ahead of him, ready for any sign of disturbance around him.
He's so cautious about the possibility of an unseen foe ahead of him, however, that he isn't watching the ground. The trap is well hidden, but if he had been watching, he might have been a glint of metal or at least the unevenness of the foliage covering the ground.
He's gone ahead about ten yards, just getting out of the line of sight of Gamzee's hiding position, when he takes a step. He only had seconds to register the sudden metallic hiss of air before the trap closes around his leg.
He can't help screaming, the pain is incredible, to the point where he wonders for a moment if the leg wasn't cut completely off. But it's still there, only stuck, and he falls to the ground before suddenly remembering Gamzee.
Someone obviously set this trap here, and that someone is about to come for him. And if Gamzee just heard him scream, he might come out after him. Part of him wants to shout for help, just so someone can let him out of this, but he has to be a good moirail for once.
His hands trembling he tries to hold up the gun, hoping he'll still be able to fire it.]
*And as soon as the trap closes and that scream rings out, there's the sound of rustling in the brushes beside the path - and a massive adult troll steps into view, putting one fist in his palm and giving his knuckles a thundering crack. He seems pleased.* Well.
I wasn't expecting that to work so effectively so soon. Do you think I should be grateful? I--
*And then, whatever else he was going to say dies on his lips as he catches a glimpse of bright red on the trap's jaws, barely a splash but still visible.
[Karkat meant to shoot as soon as the enemy who trapped him came into sight, but he pauses. This adult troll looks so much like Equius, like what Equius might have grown to look like if he hadn't died. And no one could say Equius' death was anyone's fault but Karkat, if he hadn't sent him after Gamzee, if he had done his job as a moirail sooner...he's too shocked to react.
And then he sees the troll looking down at the trap and his own gaze slides there too. He'd spent so long just around his friends, the eleven trolls who respected him as a leader despite his obvious low blood caste. For all of the terror he's been through recently, it seems he's almost forgotten what it means to know he deserves to die for an accident of his birth rather than his actions, to know that almost everyone else will see things the same way.
He raises the gun again and fires, but his hands are shaking badly from fear and pain and he underestimates how much control he'll need to keep it firing straight; he doesn't get near to shooting Darkleer and the kick from the few rounds he does fire forces him to twist his leg painfully.]
*Darkleer flinches the tiniest bit at the sharp crack of gunfire, but otherwise stands his ground... he's too busy staring at that bright red blood. Hideous. Mutant.* Your filthy blood.
It's just like his. *He'll never forget that blood. Never forget that man; the day all of his fortune ended. Just the sight of it fills him with a sort of unimaginable anger.
So he reaches out to one of the trees along the path, grabbing a branch - and casually rips the limb off so languidly it's like he's snapping a twig. He hefts it like a club.*
Drop your riflekind weapon and stand. I will graciously grant even a mutant blood like yourself the chance to die on your feet.
[He can't stand, and he won't drop his weapon. It's all he has.
But then he moves to fire again, and nothing happens. Even though it didn't sound like it from the description because I wasn't sure how many rounds he had, he's emptied the magazine and needs to reload. The prospect of getting to his backpack is impossible right now.
So instead, shaking, he throws the gun behind him, back towards the direction Gamzee is hiding. It doesn't go very far, but maybe after he's killed, this troll will forget to take it. He'd rather it be useful to one of his friends, even though he knows that if he's dead, Gamzee may start playing to win.
It's hard to care about his own survival when this asshole is looking at him like that, talking about his blood like that, reminding him that he never should have been allowed to live past grubhood. He wants to prove he's more than that, but he's failed every time he tries.
Still, he manages to pull himself to his feet. The pain of putting weight on his leg is unbearable; he thinks it must be broken, not that it matters now. But at least if he's going to die he wants to show that despite his disgusting blood, he's not some cowardly wiggler. He's worth something.]
[Karkat had told him to stay hidden no matter what, and he really does try, even when he hears the guy screaming. But then he hears gunfire and he's on his feet and running in that direction, orders be damned. It doesn't take him long to stumble in on the scene. He ignores the larger troll completely and doesn't even seem to notice he's there, eyes focusing instantly on Karkat's state.]
Oh fuck!
[He shudders for a moment as the sight and smell of all that bright red blood makes something in his head scream, but manages to brush it off and rush towards Karkat, crouching to take a better look at the trap ensnaring his leg. It's only then that he bothers to spare the third troll here a glance, doing a brief double-take when he sees who it is.]
Equius? Were you always that huge? [He forgets the question as soon as he asks it, his mind clearly on more important things.] Come help a brother out, yeah? I ain't too sure how to get this motherfuckin' thing open.
*Darkleer is about to commend the mutantblood on his courage in the face of inevitable death when a third troll bursts onto the scene - and in an instant he's turning, raising the tree branch to confront this new threat, and...
Those familiar-looking (if slightly smaller) horns. That (admittedly less terrifying) face paint. Even though this troll is too young to be showing his blood in his eyes, Darkleer can recognize a highblood when he sees one. Immediately, he sets the club down, dropping to one knee before the boy - young or no, a highblood is a highblood, but his blood boils at the thought of one so noble in so perverse a game.*
Highblood.
*He'd said something about opening the trap, hadn't he? Darkleer moves to do just that, heading towards the other boy. The sight of that disgusting blood so close only makes him feel nauseous.* Of course. It is only proper that the culling of one so flawed should come at the hands of one so noble.
I must apologize for damaging him beforehand. I fear he will not be a worthy kill for the likes of you.
[His heart sinks completely when he sees Gamzee approaching, despite the way his vision is blurring from pain. They just can't fight this troll and he didn't want Gamzee to die too.]
I told you not to--
[But then the adult kneels, and he realizes just how lucky they've just been. He touches a hand lightly to the back of Gamzee's head, a signal that he needs to deal with this. He doesn't want to speak because that might lose them this opportunity. Hopefully Gamzee's blood color alone will be enough to win this dangerous troll's continued deference, but it's possible if he sees that this highblood responds to orders from one so flawed, things will change.]
[He gives the large troll a blank look, but Gamzee's used enough by now to Equius being incomprehensible that he doesn't question the remarks about culling, assuming it's a metaphor or roleplaying or whatever it is that the blueblood is so interested in.]
Uhh...I dunno about the rest of it, but as long as you're all what real sorry, it's cool. I hope you got bandages or something though, this wound looks pretty motherfuckin' nasty.
*And the blueblood has opened the trap - literally just wrenching it open with brute force - before he hears the highblood's words and just... blinks at him in confusion.*
You wish me to... bandage his wound? I don't understand. Perhaps you mean to kill him later, since he is no longer a threat to you or your rightful rule of our kind?
[He's trying to stay strong, but when the trap is wrenched open, he lets out a choking gasp of pain, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood to prevent himself from screaming again. Now that he's no longer being supported by the trap, he stumbles to the ground, the blood that was partially being staunched by the trap flowing freely. His pant leg is covering the wound so it's hard to tell just how bad it is, but the amount of blood implies a deep cut to the flesh and muscle.
Angry with himself, he quickly covers his face with his hands, wiping away tears while trying to look as though he's only doing it in exasperation.
He needs to fix this now, but he needs to do it very carefully.]
Gamzee, this isn't Equius. This is someone else who would like to kill me, but he wants to listen to what you want to do because you're a highblood.
I think you should make sure he understands what you want him to do right now, whether it's kill me or whether it's something different.
[He wraps an arm around Karkat's waist when the other troll drops, trying to support him. There's a strange buzzing in his ears at the sight of a troll weak and vulnerable at his feet, and he shakes his head slightly to try to clear it.]
Nobody's killing anyone.
[Yet whispers through his thoughts and leaves as quickly as it came. He still doesn't really understand what's going on or what he's supposed to do, but he knows enough to know that they need to get somewhere safe, Karkat's condition being what it is. He glances up at not-Equius.]
Bandages, yeah. And can you all what lend me a claw here and carry him to those caves nearby? It'll be easier than making him walk.
[His tone and expression is as friendly as ever, but there's a slight edge to it that suggests that disobedience is not an option here.]
I... Highblood, I must protest. That is to say, that I do not mean to question your orders for any reason whatsoever, but there can be no doubt that this one possesses some connection to the Signless and his rebellion against all that your magnificent self stands for.
And you mean to allow him to live? I-- I do not understand.
*And quickly* But that is not my place to understand your orders, Highblood. If you wish to spare his life, then I will do as you command. Even if he is a mutant blood whose existence expectorates in the face of our culture.
I do not possess bandages, but it will not be a dilemma to procure replacements for one of my prodigious strength. *And he slowly takes off the jacket that comes with the uniform and...
...literally rips off a piece of the sleeve like he's tearing a piece of paper. He slices it open using one of the teeth of the trap, and none-too-gently yanks Karkat's pant leg up so that he can see the wound in question.
Ooh, that looks bad. Still, it doesn't seem to have pierced the bone, on the plus side.
[He doesn't want this at all, to have this troll who can't even stop himself from displaying his revulsion at the sight of Karkat's blood to touch him, let alone bandage his leg and then carry him off like a helpless grub.
But he doesn't really have a choice. He can't even speak up for himself because Darkleer won't care what he has to say, and Gamzee is right, he doesn't know if he can walk right now. If he backtalks, he might jeopardize everything. So instead he just leans back against his friend, glad at least for him and knowing that as soon as his self disgust at this situation passes he'll be grateful to Gamzee for keeping him alive. He doesn't know what he's really thinking right now, and it's a good thing. Even if he can keep Gamzee calm, knowing his moirail is also looking at him like some weak thing deserving to be culled would be too much right now.]
[He shrugs, relaxing a little; with the makeshift bandages covering the blood and Karkat's weight against him, the pressure in his head eases back into something he can ignore.]
I don't got a motherfuckin' clue what you're all spouting about a rebellion or mutants or any of that shit, sooooorry. But whatever it is, it don't be mattering none.
[He looks up at the larger troll. There's no fear or anxiety in his face, just a calm certainty.] He's my best motherfuckin' friend. That's all there is to it.
*And he just looks at Gamzee in disbelief.* A... Highblood, you consider this mutant lowblood a friend? That is. That is tremendously inappropriate and in defiance of everything that should be. *And he's beginning to sweat now.*
But if you are certain, I. Could never disobey the orders from one such as you. *And so he reaches around Karkat with one hand to just hoist him into the air - so that he's seated on Darkleer's massive shoulder - without any apparent difficulty.*
[He creeps ahead out into the open, keeping his gun trained ahead of him, ready for any sign of disturbance around him.
He's so cautious about the possibility of an unseen foe ahead of him, however, that he isn't watching the ground. The trap is well hidden, but if he had been watching, he might have been a glint of metal or at least the unevenness of the foliage covering the ground.
He's gone ahead about ten yards, just getting out of the line of sight of Gamzee's hiding position, when he takes a step. He only had seconds to register the sudden metallic hiss of air before the trap closes around his leg.
He can't help screaming, the pain is incredible, to the point where he wonders for a moment if the leg wasn't cut completely off. But it's still there, only stuck, and he falls to the ground before suddenly remembering Gamzee.
Someone obviously set this trap here, and that someone is about to come for him. And if Gamzee just heard him scream, he might come out after him. Part of him wants to shout for help, just so someone can let him out of this, but he has to be a good moirail for once.
His hands trembling he tries to hold up the gun, hoping he'll still be able to fire it.]
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I wasn't expecting that to work so effectively so soon. Do you think I should be grateful? I--
*And then, whatever else he was going to say dies on his lips as he catches a glimpse of bright red on the trap's jaws, barely a splash but still visible.
Just like him.*
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And then he sees the troll looking down at the trap and his own gaze slides there too. He'd spent so long just around his friends, the eleven trolls who respected him as a leader despite his obvious low blood caste. For all of the terror he's been through recently, it seems he's almost forgotten what it means to know he deserves to die for an accident of his birth rather than his actions, to know that almost everyone else will see things the same way.
He raises the gun again and fires, but his hands are shaking badly from fear and pain and he underestimates how much control he'll need to keep it firing straight; he doesn't get near to shooting Darkleer and the kick from the few rounds he does fire forces him to twist his leg painfully.]
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It's just like his. *He'll never forget that blood. Never forget that man; the day all of his fortune ended. Just the sight of it fills him with a sort of unimaginable anger.
So he reaches out to one of the trees along the path, grabbing a branch - and casually rips the limb off so languidly it's like he's snapping a twig. He hefts it like a club.*
Drop your riflekind weapon and stand. I will graciously grant even a mutant blood like yourself the chance to die on your feet.
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But then he moves to fire again, and nothing happens. Even though it didn't sound like it from the description because I wasn't sure how many rounds he had, he's emptied the magazine and needs to reload. The prospect of getting to his backpack is impossible right now.
So instead, shaking, he throws the gun behind him, back towards the direction Gamzee is hiding. It doesn't go very far, but maybe after he's killed, this troll will forget to take it. He'd rather it be useful to one of his friends, even though he knows that if he's dead, Gamzee may start playing to win.
It's hard to care about his own survival when this asshole is looking at him like that, talking about his blood like that, reminding him that he never should have been allowed to live past grubhood. He wants to prove he's more than that, but he's failed every time he tries.
Still, he manages to pull himself to his feet. The pain of putting weight on his leg is unbearable; he thinks it must be broken, not that it matters now. But at least if he's going to die he wants to show that despite his disgusting blood, he's not some cowardly wiggler. He's worth something.]
Fine. Let's do this.
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Oh fuck!
[He shudders for a moment as the sight and smell of all that bright red blood makes something in his head scream, but manages to brush it off and rush towards Karkat, crouching to take a better look at the trap ensnaring his leg. It's only then that he bothers to spare the third troll here a glance, doing a brief double-take when he sees who it is.]
Equius? Were you always that huge? [He forgets the question as soon as he asks it, his mind clearly on more important things.] Come help a brother out, yeah? I ain't too sure how to get this motherfuckin' thing open.
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Those familiar-looking (if slightly smaller) horns. That (admittedly less terrifying) face paint. Even though this troll is too young to be showing his blood in his eyes, Darkleer can recognize a highblood when he sees one. Immediately, he sets the club down, dropping to one knee before the boy - young or no, a highblood is a highblood, but his blood boils at the thought of one so noble in so perverse a game.*
Highblood.
*He'd said something about opening the trap, hadn't he? Darkleer moves to do just that, heading towards the other boy. The sight of that disgusting blood so close only makes him feel nauseous.* Of course. It is only proper that the culling of one so flawed should come at the hands of one so noble.
I must apologize for damaging him beforehand. I fear he will not be a worthy kill for the likes of you.
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I told you not to--
[But then the adult kneels, and he realizes just how lucky they've just been. He touches a hand lightly to the back of Gamzee's head, a signal that he needs to deal with this. He doesn't want to speak because that might lose them this opportunity. Hopefully Gamzee's blood color alone will be enough to win this dangerous troll's continued deference, but it's possible if he sees that this highblood responds to orders from one so flawed, things will change.]
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Uhh...I dunno about the rest of it, but as long as you're all what real sorry, it's cool. I hope you got bandages or something though, this wound looks pretty motherfuckin' nasty.
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You wish me to... bandage his wound? I don't understand. Perhaps you mean to kill him later, since he is no longer a threat to you or your rightful rule of our kind?
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Angry with himself, he quickly covers his face with his hands, wiping away tears while trying to look as though he's only doing it in exasperation.
He needs to fix this now, but he needs to do it very carefully.]
Gamzee, this isn't Equius. This is someone else who would like to kill me, but he wants to listen to what you want to do because you're a highblood.
I think you should make sure he understands what you want him to do right now, whether it's kill me or whether it's something different.
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Nobody's killing anyone.
[Yet whispers through his thoughts and leaves as quickly as it came. He still doesn't really understand what's going on or what he's supposed to do, but he knows enough to know that they need to get somewhere safe, Karkat's condition being what it is. He glances up at not-Equius.]
Bandages, yeah. And can you all what lend me a claw here and carry him to those caves nearby? It'll be easier than making him walk.
[His tone and expression is as friendly as ever, but there's a slight edge to it that suggests that disobedience is not an option here.]
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And you mean to allow him to live? I-- I do not understand.
*And quickly* But that is not my place to understand your orders, Highblood. If you wish to spare his life, then I will do as you command. Even if he is a mutant blood whose existence expectorates in the face of our culture.
I do not possess bandages, but it will not be a dilemma to procure replacements for one of my prodigious strength. *And he slowly takes off the jacket that comes with the uniform and...
...literally rips off a piece of the sleeve like he's tearing a piece of paper. He slices it open using one of the teeth of the trap, and none-too-gently yanks Karkat's pant leg up so that he can see the wound in question.
Ooh, that looks bad. Still, it doesn't seem to have pierced the bone, on the plus side.
But he's going to bandage it now.*
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But he doesn't really have a choice. He can't even speak up for himself because Darkleer won't care what he has to say, and Gamzee is right, he doesn't know if he can walk right now. If he backtalks, he might jeopardize everything. So instead he just leans back against his friend, glad at least for him and knowing that as soon as his self disgust at this situation passes he'll be grateful to Gamzee for keeping him alive. He doesn't know what he's really thinking right now, and it's a good thing. Even if he can keep Gamzee calm, knowing his moirail is also looking at him like some weak thing deserving to be culled would be too much right now.]
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I don't got a motherfuckin' clue what you're all spouting about a rebellion or mutants or any of that shit, sooooorry. But whatever it is, it don't be mattering none.
[He looks up at the larger troll. There's no fear or anxiety in his face, just a calm certainty.] He's my best motherfuckin' friend. That's all there is to it.
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But if you are certain, I. Could never disobey the orders from one such as you. *And so he reaches around Karkat with one hand to just hoist him into the air - so that he's seated on Darkleer's massive shoulder - without any apparent difficulty.*
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