(Untitled)

[gotpoetryinme]

There's a man in a bowler hat and a fur overcoat sitting in a snowbank out back. He's currently looking out at the frozen lake, pistol in hand.

Not much interesting about him except for the fresh, gaping, self-inflicted headwound.

He's a little upset, but botherable.

Comments

[crabbycustomer]

In the dead of winter, the sun is like a tiny tarnished coin, and Karkat feels a lot better about being out here. It helps to tell himself that it is another moon. He is getting used to it.

So it is that there is a grey-faced adolescent with nubby but brightly-colored horns, kicking slush out of the worn path out to the forge. He is bundled up in a black corduroy jacket; the Cancer symbol is embroidered in red, which is another thing he's getting used to.

The guy with a hole in his head doesn't get a second look, because Karkat notices the problem on the first one. He can smell blood. "OH WHAT THE FUCK, I UNDERSTAND YOU CAN'T HELP BEING DEAD BUT YOU COULD AT LEAST COVER THAT SHIT UP. SOME OF US JUST ATE." Despite his bluster, his eyes are a little wide, and--it's hard to tell, but his pallor might be a little more pallid.

[gotpoetryinme]

McCabe turns his head. As he sees...it...he makes a strained, startled noise that sounds like a chicken being strangled. He slowly crabwalks backward, staring at the creature.

[crabbycustomer]

Karkat has been here long enough that his appearance is no longer the first thing he thinks of when humans flip out. He rolls his eyes. "JEGUS, DID YOU NOT KNOW YOU'RE DEAD? EXHIBIT A, THERE IS A HUGE FUCKING HOLE IN YOUR HEAD, DO THE MATH."

[gotpoetryinme]

McCabe isn't really listening. He slowly lifts his Austrian-made revolver and points it unsteadily at Karkat.

"G-get away from me, demon! You ain't takin' me to Hell!"

[crabbycustomer]

Karkat does not appear to find this intimidating; possibly it is the unsteadiness, or maybe just general inurement to having duedly deadly weapons pointed at him. Inexplicably, no one at Milliways has ever mistaken him for a demon, despite all the misleading indications, so he has no idea that McCabe isn't entirely raving.

"HOLY MOTHER GRUB'S THIRD MICTURATING VESTIGIAL ASSHOLE, WHAT AN IDIOT. I GUESS IT IS HARD TO BLAME YOU WHEN YOU BLEW YOUR FUCKING NEURAL SPONGE OUT ALL OVER THE LAWN."

Karkat has to stop himself gagging at that.

"IS THAT WHAT HAPPENED, YOU CANTANKEROUS BASTARD? DID YOU COP OUT, STUMPWAYS, AND FIND YOURSELF HERE? YOU PROBABLY HAVEN'T GOT THE SLIGHEST CLUE WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING TO YOU, IF THAT'S THE CASE."

[gotpoetryinme]

Being terrified beyond capacity for rational thought, McCabe is past the point where there's anything anyone can say to him.

He pulls the trigger and fires.

[crabbycustomer]

Well, that changes things.

McCabe is pretty unsteady, and Karkat is at the top of his echeladder; even a direct hit from an unaugmented pistol would have been unlikely to kill him, even before he started playing the game, and his enhanced gel vitality works in large part by misdirection and good fortune. The bullet punches through the flesh of his arm cleanly, sending a spray of Karkat's mutant red blood all over the snow.

Karkat's first thought is WELL, GOTTA KILL HIM NOW. He is already moving when it sinks in that there is nothing special or noteworthy about having red blood here. He is already in the middle of the fraymotif for disarming the human when he realizes and changes his plans.

He tosses the pistol away over his shoulder, letting the motion carry him forward to tackle McCab and wrap his arms around him and sink the blade that suddenly appears in his hand in the human's back.

Well, he didn't have to change his plans that much.

[gotpoetryinme]

McCabe lets out a shocked gasp as the blade enters his back. His knees buckle and he sinks into the snow.

This is it, it's happenin' again ... I'd say somethin' like Lord have mercy but it wouldn't do me no good...

He waits for the familiar blurry fade into nothingness. Nothing happens.

McCabe opens his eyes and stands up. He rubs the side of his head - the wound is gone. Karkat is still standing in front of him, blade in hand. "What in the hell?"

[crabbycustomer]

As soon as the Pheonix Claw Kerambit has gone in, Karkat palmed it back into his strife specibus; he will need it for himself soon enough. His arm hurts like living fuck.

He keeps McCabe pinned down until he begins to calm, making quiet shooosh noises between his clenched fangs. When the human calms down and appears to be waiting for death, Karkat grunts and drags himself off of him, then sags down in the snow on crossed legs to wait him out.

Karkat nods at the reaction. "YEAH, WHAT IN THE HELL INDEED, YOU GODDAMN TRIGGERHAPPY ASSHOLE." The wound in his arm has stopped bleeding--there are bonuses to being the Knight of Blood--but it still aches like a motherfucker.

[gotpoetryinme]

McCabe's expression is still one of utter bafflement. He rubs the side of his head again.

"So...you ain't a demon. And I ain't died a second time. Or a third time. Meanin' I'm stuck here and dead for good and for true."

He looks down and shakes his head. "What the hell is this fuckin' place...don't belong here."

[crabbycustomer]

"I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN BY A DEMON, IT HAS RECENTLY OCCURRED TO ME THAT WE MIGHT USE THE SAME WORDS FOR DIFFERENT CONCEPTS. BUT NO, I DON'T CONSIDER MYSELF A DEMON." His voice is loud and hoarse, but not angry; kind of resigned and patient with the universality of stupity.

Now that McCabe is less frightened, it is probably becoming clear that Karkat looks about thirteen.

"AND NO SHIT, NOBODY BELONGS HERE. BUT WHO THE FUCK BELONGS ANYWHERE? I WAS SOMEWHERE I DIDN'T BELONG BEFORE I CAME HERE AND I WILL BE SOMEWHERE ELSE I DON'T BELONG AFTER I LEAVE, AND YOU PROBABLY WILL TOO."

"IF I UNDERSTAND YOUR MUMBLING PROPERLY YOU ALREADY KNOW WHERE YOU ARE, AND YOU DECIDED TO TRY KILLING YOURSELF AGAIN TO SEE WHAT WOULD HAPPEN?"

[gotpoetryinme]

"Been told where I am," McCabe says. "End o' the universe or some shit. Don't believe it. It's a saloon 'n' that's all I know. Walked in after gettin' shot 'n' killed.

"Shot myself in the head to be sure I was dead and not dreamin'. 'N' maybe to see if I'd get sent someplace that made some goddamn sense. Seein' you, I thought maybe it'd worked."

[crabbycustomer]

"WOW, WELL, THAT WAS PRETTY STUPID, BUT NOW WE KNOW THAT YOU CAN'T DO THAT, WHICH IS USEFUL." Karkat frowns and looks at himself. "I AM GUESSING THAT SINCE YOU IDENTIFIED ME AS A DEMON YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE IN HELL? LET ME ASK YOU THIS AS AN EXPERT IN THE QUESTION, WOULD YOU REALLY RATHER BE IN A PLACE THAT MAKES SENSE TO YOU BUT IS COMPLETELY AWFUL THAN A PLACE WHERE YOU ARE GOING TO HAVE TO LEARN AND ADJUST? IT IS A QUESTION I HAVE HAD TO ASK MYSELF A LOT."

As he speaks, he slowly goes through his pockets and pieces through some red and blue cards, each about half the size of an index or playing card.

[gotpoetryinme]

"Just figured it'd come for me eventually," he says. "Figured there was no reason t'wait." He looks over at his gun scattered on the ground and snorts. "Looks like I didn't really want t'go just yet after all."

[crabbycustomer]

"WOW, YOU REALLY ARE AN IDIOT," Karkat says, matter of factly. "PUTTING OFF THE INEVITABLE IS CALLED 'BEING ALIVE', YOU DUMB FUCKER. OR WHATEVER IT IS YOU ARE NOW, SORT OF... SEMI-ALIVE. HALF-GHOST OR SOMETHING. I MEAN, YOU ARE MORE OR LESS OKAY AS LONG AS YOU DON'T SHOOT YOURSELF IN THE HEAD, LIKE ALL OF US."

He fits one red card and one blue card together, like a really simple jigsaw puzzle; a yellow box pops into existence out of the surface of the card.

[gotpoetryinme]

"Well, didn't think it would come to nothin' at any rate," he says.

He finally thinks to look at what Karkat is doing with his hands. "The hell you doin' with those cards?"