WHO: Gamzee and Mindfang
WHERE: In a dark locale near the City's so well known warehouse district
WHEN: Late into the night of the ninth, possibly into the morning of the tenth of August.
WARNINGS: Who do you see in this log?
SUMMARY: Two trolls sneaking around in the dark run into each other.
FORMAT: Words
(
in webs. )
However, she gives pause when she spots Gamzee in her pathway, one eyebrow raising slightly. A troll -- how interesting. Idly, she wondered if she had met this one before. It certainly wasn't her descendant, though he looked suspiciously familiar, and not in a good way.
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"You're motherfuckin' Mindfang," he half hissed.
Though Gamzee didn't realize it, the purple symbol on his shirt had just become visible.
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She was beginning to grow tired of running into children -- though in this case, she would have rather dealt with this one than his counterpart.
"Descendant of the Grand Highblood. How positively charming."
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Slowly he moved his right arm a little in front of him, the robot arm would be better than his still fleshy arm for blocking any sudden attacks. His left hand didn't twitch, but it did curl a bit into a position that was perfect for holding something like a club. There'd be no attack thrown yet, but Gamzee wasn't about to be unprepared.
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Mindfang let her eyelids lower a bit -- for how dangerous Gamzee had the potential to be, she was oddly relaxed. Perhaps because he was a child.
"So many dangerous words, yet so little strength to follow through with. So many politics. But you're a bit young for that, I think."
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Sneering he said "Why are you all at having that idea up at in your thinkpan about me? Or about motherfuckin' me? Us all being up at being motherfuckin' young doesn't motherfuckin' all mean shit at us."
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That was an interesting trick he seemed to have. It even sparks a sort of curious expression on her face, though she doesn't actively comment.
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"Don't all motherfuckin' call my ownself little," he paused for only half a second, "Fine, let's all get our political discussion on. Get a motherfuckin' subject up at in here what you motherfuckin' all want to get at motherfuckin' talking in on for."
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"How fares our fair Alternia, then? Before it ceased to exist, of course." Briefly, her tongue slides across her upper lip in distaste. She had already heard that story.
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He'd have gone into more detail, but Gamzee somehow got the idea that his stoned self didn't really know much of anything from that time and it'd be bad to admit that he actually didn't know as much about what was going on as he should have.
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But as she muses on this, the first part of his sentence really sinks in, causing her to raise an eyebrow. "A second uprising?"
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He paused only because of the risk of seeming too interested in something.
"What was the first uprising about all kinda like?"
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"Short-lived, I suppose. The Condesce is a rather ruthless woman, after all. She didn't take the blasphemy very well. The mutant and all of his associates were killed or silenced in some other fashion."
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Gamzee could tell that Mindfang was probably going to leave soon, and that was for the best as he didn't want to risk getting in a fight with her, but all the same he hoped she'd stay around just long enough to tell him a gruesome tale or two.
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"They hung the mutant by his wrists in hot irons, of course. Put him on display for the entire planet and let him bleed out," Mindfang offered with a bit of a careless shrug. "He was the only one of note who perished, I'm afraid."
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