OPEN FOR TRUTH AND CONSEQUENCES

[harshwhimsy]

WHO: Gamzee vs EVERYBODY
WHAT: a juggalo is rampaging murderously, hunting a certain murderous fairy, attempted murder will happen to anyone who gets in his way. there's a theme here.
WHERE: through truth and consequences
WHEN: early evening 6/13
WARNINGS: violence, cursing, colorful shades of blood

Comments

[scourgesister]

Okay, so maybe letting it slip to Gamzee that she had killed -- would eventually kill one of his good friends was a bad idea. But how was she supposed to know he'd flip his shit like that? Still, despite his new obsession with grinding her wings into stardust, she wasn't terribly worried. This was Gamzee they were talking about, after all. And she was still the strongest troll around. Having him sober up a little wasn't going to change that.

But while she was more than confident he wouldn't be able to bring her down, the others were a different case. And if he really did track her down, there was the tiny little problem of having him find and kill everyone else in the process. So when he'd called her out, she immediately set out from the hive, making sure it was out of sight before flying in low circles above the town. It wasn't like she was feeling a little protective of the others. No way. She'd just rather not give anyone any other shit to blame her for.

And then she saw him. Man, he looked like shit. She flew up behind him,

[harshwhimsy]

Gamzee was a bit more worse for wear when she found him. His makeup was smeared all over, obscuring the purple mark around his eye that he wasn't even aware of yet. Turning around was slow and lazy, and the same could be said about his smile. His eyes were tired, but they're what truly belied the change in his mentality. They were focused in a way no one ever expected him to be capable, filling with so much hate and rage as they lock onto hers.

She may be a god, but he still believed in miracles. The thought of failure wasn't something that was even occurring to him. There was definitely something to be said about fanaticism, true belief was definitely something hard to come by.

That crooked grin split unnaturally wide across his face, and that lazy expression vanished completely as his eyes snapped wide open, the club at his side swinging up at her jaw hard enough to rip the head off a normal troll.

[scourgesister]

There wasn't any time to process that split-second change in expression before he was swinging, with a hell of a lot more force than she was expecting. She didn't fly backwards so much as she fell, nearly dropping to the ground in her haste to dodge. It didn't take her long to recover, wings carrying her backward and putting some more distance between them, but she'd be lying if she said that didn't rattle her. Fuck. Who was this guy, and what had he done with the stoned-out-of-his-thinkpan dope she'd been expecting to run into?

Whatever. It didn't matter now where that strength had come from, or why. She didn't need to know that to take him down. And she would.

"I'll take that as a yes!" There was a bottle of syrup in her sylladex (because she could handle matters without resorting to murder, thank you very much), but it was obvious there wouldn't be any time for that now. Instead she went straight for her strife specibus, pulling out the Fluorite Octet. She made sure to keep her eyes on him the whole time.

[harshwhimsy]

He was already moving when she first darted back, keeping a steady pace and twirling the clubs through his fingers like he was getting ready to send them spinning through the air.

Which is, in fact, exactly what he did.

Gamzee launches one of those clubs at top speed, aiming to hit her square in the face. Then he was gone. He just seemed to vanish from existence entirely, leaving only that single club in flight just to appear above her, swinging a second club downwards.

[scourgesister]

Swerving past the first club was easy enough, but Vriska didn't have quite as much luck in dodging the second. So much for keeping him in her sights. One flash in the corner of her vision and one crushing pain in her shoulder later, she found herself tumbling toward the ground. She managed to tuck into a roll at the last moment, letting her metallic left arm bear the brunt of the landing. As soon as she skidded to a stop, she let the Octet fly.

4, 6, 4, 2, 1, 5, 1, 8: THE SKIES THAT BLIND.

Not quite the offensive power she was looking for, but it would give her some time. A black, opaque fog quickly began filling the air, making it all but impossible to see -- with two eyes, anyway. Her vision eightfold cut through the thick haze easily enough, and she quickly scooped up her dice. God, she was already getting sick of playing defense.

[harshwhimsy]

He was gone again before the dice left her hand, darting back and away, to and fro, the honks sounding like they were coming from all around the area and echoing off nearby buildings. The fog was only going to make things even more interesting as far as he was concerned. It wouldn't be satisfying if he was able to take her out so easily.

Not that she ever made anything easy for anyone.

Gamzee let his remaining clubs slip away for now, eyes still locked on the spot she had been. In the end he decided to stay still -which wasn't very, considering he seemed to sway and snap like a broken marionette- if he couldn't go to her, than she was going to have to come to him.

[scourgesister]

With the Octet safely back in her hand, she stopped focusing through the fog and let her vision spread, searching the full scope of her view. There. Behind her and to her left, standing still -- relatively still, at least. This was her chance.

Taking off into the air, she decaptchalogued the bottle of syrup and dived straight at him. Just a few feet closer, and --

-- at the last second, she turned sharply, aiming to get behind him. Her wings had dissipated some of the fog, and the trail they left behind would illuminate it, but a few seconds with the element of surprise was all she needed. Grab him, shove the syrup down his windtube, and get the fuck out of his reach. Easy.

[harshwhimsy]

Easy.

Or it would have been if he hadn't caught the trail of special stardust her wings gave off. A few seconds wasn't nearly enough time. Unless you're Aradia, but she had to go off and fucking explode all by her own motherfucking self.

The moment she tried to make her move was the moment he'd already made his. Gone and back again in the blink of an eye, reaching up behind her to take hold of her wings at the base and rip downward. The force of her wings being ripped away was enough to dissipate the rest of the fog, and he let out a loud, manic cackle as he was hit with dual sprays of blue.

"YOU MOTHERFUCKIN SHOWED ME!! Didn't you? DIDN'T YOU!?! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!"

[scourgesister]

And once again, she found herself falling out of the air -- but this time there were no wings to catch her. Only a sharp, searing pain, a spreading pool of dampness at her back, and a familiar, glowing blue. In his hands.

This time, she hit the ground hard, too stunned for a proper landing. She'd made a big, big mistake trying to go easy on him. If she hadn't gone for the fucking syrup first...she was in the perfect position, and with the right roll she could have ended it. But no. Like an idiot, she'd tried to end things the easy way. The nice way. And look where that got her. Tore them off. He tore my fucking wings right off. The initial shock quickly gave way to anger, the pain infuriating her just as much as his words.

The sharp corners of the Octet bit into her palm as she forced herself to her feet, but that was nothing. Nothing compared to the blow he'd dealt her. And nothing compared to what she'd do to him now.

[harshwhimsy]

"What all seems to be the motherfuckin problem?" He discarded the wings for now, needing his hands free. "MOTHERFUCKIN SPIDERS CAN'T MOTHERFUCKIN FLY!" She wasn't the one who deserved those wings.

When she finally faced him again he just grinned, face and teeth stained with her blood. Gamzee held his hands out at his sides, each holding four dice between his fingers. Eight in all.

He just cocked his head to the side. Who would get the winning roll?

[scourgesister]

Heat was building up behind her eyes, a familiar warmth focusing itself behind the left and coursing down through her. It occurred to her, dimly, that this was probably overkill; she didn't need an absolutely perfect roll. But then she saw the Octet in his hands, and the flash of anger that overtook her only made the heat blaze. All bets were off.

"And your carnival sucks. Your point?"

She wasn't going to leave this one up to chance. She was far, far too lucky for that. This time, the dice hardly rolled once they hit the ground --

8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8: ANCESTRAL AWAKENING.

-- and the heat burst, blooming into a light that enveloped her entirely.

[harshwhimsy]

Gamzee didn't know how the dice worked, nor had he any luck thieving abilities. He didn't know what he would roll, or even if it would be any good. He let his dice fly the same time as hers, but unlike hers they had to find their own way. He did have something on his side, though.

8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8: ANCESTRAL AWAKENING.

MOTHER.

FUCKING.

MIRACLES.

[scourgesister]

Vriska couldn't tell if the pain was gone or if she was just ignoring it. She didn't give a damn either way, because she was feeling better and better by the second. Not just better, but more powerful. Untouchable. The transformation seemed to burn even more brightly this time -- Looks like he'd caught a pretty lucky break, too -- but when the light faded from her, when the last lick of wind whipped at her coat, she found she didn't care. Whatever imitation he'd spawned couldn't compare to the original.

The weight of the blade in her hand was reassuring, but it was a reassurance she didn't need. Reassurance was for people who worried. Worrying was for people who thought they had something to lose. And what was there to lose when you felt this amazing?

[harshwhimsy]

One of the benefits of rage is that he couldn't feel any pain to begin with. The downfall of that is the lack of knowledge on just how damaged one could actually get. He'd already been bleeding before the fight started, but now he felt like he could take on all of Alternia and beyond.

Gold eyes flashed behind the skull covering his face, and he rolled his shoulders to get a feel of the painted bone chestplate. The club was far larger than his own, but he still spun it once in his hand like it weighed nothing. It felt like it belonged there. It did belong there. This was a club of a High Subjugglator, and it was about to be christened.

[scourgesister]

The spitting image of the Grand Highblood himself. Not bad. Vriska allowed herself a second to take it all in -- but just a second, and then she was off. Dashing with a newfound speed that would put her previous flying to shame, she lunged at him, swinging her sword with ease, blade aimed straight for his heart.

Charging the enemy head on like this was reckless, risky, daring...but she was done with dodging. And Gamblignants were nothing if not daring.

[harshwhimsy]

His sanguinary nature rose completely to the surface, and all he could think about now were the colors of his miracles. Paint the walls, the ceiling, the floor. Spread those colors out so he could fondly regard them whenever he pleased.

Blue was a nice color, and he had to start somewhere.

The club moved faster than seemed possible for it's size, crossing over his chest to knock the sword away then back towards her skull. His blood was pumping so hard it was like circus drums pulsing in his ears, beating at the inside of his skull. Everything was sharper now, the edges of life and death that much more crisp.