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

BECAUSE you trolled him, and he's kinda in a mood to PUNCH SOME FACES (and is very hard to kill)

[hulkling_smash]

Teddy was standing outside of a convenience store with a bottle of Cherry Coke in hand, wondering what the hell he was going to do next. He paused at the edge of the curb to check his phone and answer one of his new text messages, then shoved it back into his pocket and looked up. Down the street.

At the troll.

At the slinking, dissheveled troll. The bleeding troll.

"Hey!" he called, "Are you all right?"

bwahahahaha

[harshwhimsy]

The first thing Teddy would hear was the honking of a bicycle horn, the sound echoing faintly around as the troll swung his head around. Gamzee tilted his head, though he had more the look of a marionette who's strings just snapped, his head and shoulder dropping sharply.

If he was in any pain it didn't show, but blood dripped along his wrist and curled in deep, purple ribbons around the juggling club he held clutched in his fist.

"MOTHERFUCKIN' PERFECT, MOTHERFUCKER. Just out for an evenin' stroll." And then he laughed, something loud and sharp that ended just as abruptly as it began.

[hulkling_smash]

The apparently-human boy took a step back, suddenly wary.

"Wait... you're that troll who was texting me, aren't you?"

He frowned.

"Are you sure you shouldn't get that looked at? You're kinda.... bleeding quite a bit there."

[harshwhimsy]

"TED?"

His head rolled to hang in the other direction, but his eyes seemed to snap more into focus. "It's Ted. MOTHERFUCKING TED!"

He grinned.

"It's all good. I'm chill with it."

[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.

[Warren and Gamzee] Fight aftermath! and hopefully lj won't eat my comment this time

[ascending_angel]

Having enhanced senses was beneficial in a lot of ways, normally, but not so much when there were bright, strobe-like lights flashing through the city and basically blinding him for several minutes. One would think that dating a mutant with the ability to create lights of every imaginable wavelength would have gotten Warren used to the feel, but nope. Unfortunately, too, Warren was still being paid by Annie Prendergast to keep shit in line in Truth or Consequences, so he couldn't even ignore his annoyance tonight and move on.

After regaining his composure, he flew over to the sight of the lights to investigate. Since he didn't know anyone else here besides Alison who was capable of that kind of light, he had to be careful; Warren shapeshifted into his more durable body to check things out. "All right! Who the hell is out here!?"

[harshwhimsy]

Signs of the fight showed on the ground, skid marks and splashes of drying blue and purple. Those colors were left in drops and splatters, trailing off towards some buildings. All was quiet for a time, until the echoing honk of a bicycle horn rings out from an alley.

The boy was young, twelve or thirteen at the most, small and woefully disheveled. His gray skin was smeared with blue, purple, and white, even his brightly colored horns were caked in blue. What looked like ripped fairy wings hung lopsided from his back with bits of string, purple smiley faces scrawled in their spots.

Purple still dripped from the gash in his arm, but he was too busy with the blue to notice or care. He had to lift up onto his toes to reach, using his hands to paint what looked like an innocent smile with a big, round clown nose.

HONK.

honk.

[ascending_angel]

This probably should have startled him, frightened him, or flat out weirded him out. It really should have. However, being with the X-Men and other superhuman teams for over 13 years had really done something to Warren's idea of bizarre.

This was just the story of his life.

"Excuse me? You mind telling me what happened here? Are you hurt?" he questioned again, voice steady as he stepped forward--albeit cautiously. "My name's Archangel."

[harshwhimsy]

Gamzee chuckled to himself quietly, lifting his torn arm so he could add a smear of purple from his fingers along the mouth. He didn't seem to be paying much attention to Warren, if at all.

He just took a step back to fondly regard the colors of wicked painting. He couldn't call it part of his miracles quite yet. Vriska survived, and just the thought of that made his hair stand on end. Can't save her soul if she's still in possession of it after all.

[iamthestrider]

Okay, so Dave is this pretty cool human guy who just happens to be in Truth or Consequences, sharing a place of residence with a cast of crazy gray aliens. He honestly didn't know what the fuck he was doing there because, come on, New Mexico? Really? Coolkids belonged in places like Manhattan, or Seattle. Though he had to admit, the weather here was more to his liking than the more chilly, urban areas tended to provide. But that didn't excuse the practice of common coolkid tact (which is kinda like common courtesy, but better), something all formal settings should prescribe to. But it's all good in the end. Just another sea of shit to wade through, you know? What else is new in the life of Dave Strider

[seeingtwofold]

As if on cue with Dave's inner desire to speak with him, Sollux came floating up from behind the hive, ostensibly not realizing that anybody else would be there. His eyes were set on the ground below, as if carefully watching for something. His lips curled into a snarl the moment he sensed another presence, and he was just about to dive forward and inspect things when a much more immediate presence caught his attention.

Oh fuck, it was Dave.

Sollux fell out of attack mode with almost comedic swiftness, his arms raising almost defensively.

"Fuck!" he said in surprise. "I mean...fuck, Strider, what the hell are you doing up here?"

[iamthestrider]

The noise startled Dave. He sensed something, but he didn't expect Sollux to come falling from the sky behind him. He got up, expecting some sort of offensive, but dropped his hands when he saw who it was.

"Sollux, what the fuck. Why are you up here?" Dave knew perfectly well what Sollux was there for. He readied himself for the eventual verbal confrontation.

[seeingtwofold]

Sollux lowered his voice to an annoyed hiss, "I'm up here because I'm watching out for psycho clowns, which is a problem ToC seems to have developed recently, courtesy of our shitstain of a universe."

He sank down a bit low, and close to Dave so he could get a better look at him. And hopefully be less of an obvious target.

"Somehow I doubt you were doing anything as useful."