A/n: So I got this idea in my head a few weeks ago and wrote it out. I wanted to see what was going through Gamzee's head, what's making him act the way he does and I came up with this. I decided that since it's from the POV of an insane, homicidal clown that it would be good for Halloween.
So happy Halloween, everybody!
We will be back to your regularly scheduled johnkat fluff next week.
The Mad One has been living alone in a cave for centuries with only the voices in his head to keep him company. Then one day a troll appears that makes them go away. He decides he'll do anything to stay with his redblood, but when there's such a huge difference in lifespans, drastic measures have to be taken. (spoilers to most recent update)The mural is almost complete. He's been painting it for… he doesn't even remember. After a few centuries the sweeps melt together. Does he even have a name anymore? Trolls call him The Mad One, but he doesn't think that's quite…
You don't need a name. You need red.
Right, right, the one color that's missing. He's got lots and lots of shades of red, but none of them are quite right. They don't bridge with the fuchsia. Don't quite complete the mural.
It has to be done. Get the last.
Oh, he wishes for the right color. Of course, it doesn't matter. Anyone who dares venture into the cave is killed.
It doesn't keep us quiet for long.
He knows.
And we only come back stronger.
He knows. Sometimes he imagines turning his clubs upon himself to see if he's given quiet in death. But he doesn't want to die.
He just wants quiet.
He takes a knife and slits his own finger. The sky needs a little more purple and he obliges.
Someone is here.
He's almost done.
Find him.
Just give him a moment!
He's the one.
He stops. He doesn't question how the voices know. They just know. They always know. He is big, but he can move silently if he wants to. And he wants to then. Maybe it is a gift from the voices that he can move as the shadows do. Maybe it is a gift of his caste.
It doesn't really matter.
The intruder isn't trying to hide. It's not a child, a foolish freshly-pupated troll dared by their friends to see if The Mad One really exists. He's glad. It'll be more interesting, though he's more foolish for coming when he knows the danger. But it can't be too messy. The Mad One needs his blood. He needs to color the sun and the eyes. Can't be too messy. Maybe strangle him with that ridiculous shirt.
"Are you here?" the foolish troll calls out."I need to talk to the last subjugglator. Are you here?"
The Mad One uses the shadows so his voice comes from everywhere. "No one has called me that in a fucking long, time, mutant."
The troll stiffens. "I want to talk."
"So talk. I wouldn't mind hearing the words of one so fucking stupid to come into my lair when he's fully motherfucking grown."
"I want to know if you want to join me."
"You? In what?" The Mad One edges a little closer to get a better look at his prey. He's not bad-looking, but those are the motherfucking tiniest horns he'd ever seen.
"Revolution. Beforus is a fucking joke right now. We found the heiress and we're going to put her on the throne."
"Killed an heiress before. So weak. She was the most pathetic motherfucker I ever culled."
"This one's different. She can do it."
"Even if she is, I've gotta finish my mural."
"What the fuck are you- Oh, it doesn't matter. Let me see you."
Don't!
There's something about this troll's voice. The Mad One ignores the voices for the first time and stepsinto the light.
You turn the fuck around right now! Pull out your clubs! Kill him! Kill him! Don't you dare take a step closer!
The troll's scared. He's shaking. Wow, he really is fucking stupid. He doesn't even have a weapon. Of course, no one can beat The Mad One. No one. Their eyes lock. Red, so red. The perfect motherfucking red. The voices are screaming, but it's muted. The troll smiles. He's so fucking soft: nubby horns and fluffy hair and oversized clothing. The Mad One walks further forward.
Finally, he was close enough. He leans down, and the troll takes him by his wild mane and presses their foreheads together. The voices are silent.
"W-what did you do?"
"I helped you. Think of it as a down payment. You come with us, I can keep your head clear."
"Who are you?"
"They've taken to calling me The Unifier."
"That's not what I fuckin' asked. What's your name?"
"Karkat. Karkat Vantas."
"Gamzee Makara."
Oh yeah, that was it.
-0-0-0-
Gamzee fought. He was motherfucking good at it. Maybe he wasn't as efficient anymore without being able to slide through the shadows the same way, but he could see more clearly. He could think before he killed. And he was fighting for his new moirail. Mostly to defend him.
Karkat was a fucking shitty fighter. Seriously. But he was really fucking good at double-teaming highbloods. He worked his voodoo magic on them, and they'd stop fighting for long enough for Gamzee to kill them. He was good at killing.
They were on the front lines a lot, even though they had a whole motherfucking army at their disposal. Sometimes it made Gamzee uncomfortable to be with others. So many people, so much life, so much to destroy. But Karkat would always notice and shoosh him and the urge would leave.
Fuck did he love his palebro.
There was basically no way they weren't going to fucking win. When they finally got into the palace, the Empress faced her death with dignity. Which was good. It gave them a little more validity. Even if Gamzee wanted to do some terrible shit to her. Fucking damn.
He and Karkat got a nice hive near the palace. If some people were fucking concerned about Gamzee's choice in moirails, they didn't say a fucking thing. But even if people were judging his moirail by blood color after all he'd fucking done, they wouldn't dare fuck with the new Empress's friends.
It was peaceful. It was quiet. As Karkat's gentle touches reminded him, that was good.
They were more than moirails by then. There wasn't a good word for it. Neither had a kismesis or matesprit, and they kind of filled in the blanks. Even though they didn't have to worry about punishment anymore, when they droids came they still pailed (mostly on Karkat's insistence. Gamzee sometimes wondered if Karkat was more into their relationship than he was. But then he'd go for a day or two without him and it would be fucking agony). And it was really fucking good, so they kept doing it. Who gave a fuck about being unorthodox anyway? It helped keep them both calm by keeping the mating urges at bay.
But Karkat is still a redblood. He lasts longer than most, but when he's twenty sweeps old he starts to slow down. Gamzee was already ancient when he had hatched, and yet he has to stay virtually unchanging as the best motherfucking thing that had ever happened to him withers. He makes it to forty five.
Then one night when Gamzee wakes up he's cold.
But even before he notices that he feels the static dropping back in. The voices won't be long. He has to go.
Take him with you.
He does.
It's a motherfucking miracle he makes it to the cave without seeing anyone. If he did he wouldn't have held himself responsible. His cave's empty too. The pile of skeletons near the entrance probably has something to do with that.
We think it's quite lovely.
It is, but people don't appreciate good décor, ya feel me?
Well said.
He still hates the voices.
We know. But oh how we've missed you. Now, you know what you have to do. You ignored us for sweeps, but you'll listen to us now, won't you?
He does.
Karkat deserves a little better care, though. If nothing else, his blood was what was missing for so long. For a moment Gamzee wonders about their grubs. They're probably adults by now. Maybe one of them…
You don't have their bodies. You have his. Do it.
Carefully, he slits Karkat's belly and dips his hands inside. They come out coated in candy red. Gamzee smiles.
He doesn't need much. The sun, check. The eyes, check. The cheeks, check.
There's another redblood.
WHAT? Gamzee turned around, bearing is teeth. So he wouldn't have had to- so he didn't need to- There's a big green motherfucker between him and his moirail.
"Who the fuck are you?" He snarls.
"Your master." His voice resonates like a chorus of angels. That had bony wings. And whose faces were melting off. Onto their twisted limbs. Yeah, that's the best metaphor he can think of.
Gamzee growls. "I don't have a master."
"Not yet. But you will. Because I can give you more time with him." The monster steps aside, pointing at Karkat's body.
Ignore him. Just kill him. You can give Karkat his blood back. Just cut him open. Make him bleed!
"How?"
He snaps his fingers and a giant box with a weird-ass antenna appeared. "Through there is another world. You'll have sweeps more with him."
Do not!
Shut up! Gamzee eyes it. "What's a motherfucker gotta do?"
"You will serve me. The moment I call, you must give up everything and follow my every command."
"But I'll see him again?"
"Yes."
No!
"Will I see him die again?"
"No."
Gamzee goes through without a second thought.
The next thing he knows, he's a grub again. He sees a tiny little red guy next to him. Shit, it can't be! He hops over and licks him. The grub whines. Yep, it's Karkat.
Wait, who's what?
Oh, who're those fuckers?
Why does he like the red one so much?
You're fucking stupid.
He knows.
He's still keeping the red one. He headbutts him and there's static instead of words.
Ooh, he likes the static. So he does it again. The red grub growls. Fuck he's cute. Nobody is touching that little motherfucker. Nobody.
He makes sure of it.
-0-0-0-
When he sleeps he remembers. He sees his past life, he remembers his deal. It becomes clearer and clearer as time passes. He thinks he's falling in love with Karkat again. It's hard to tell. When he gets bigger the voices get louder, but the sopor keeps 'em a little more quiet. If only it let Gamzee think straight. He's so fucking grateful there aren't words. The monster that saved him has a church on Alternia and he joins it.
But it not even a miracle can give you everything. He knows that now. He knows because Karkat is so fucking far away.
And then the game starts. He kills. The sopor runs out. He kills more. Then Karkat touches him in real life and his mind is clear again.
Fuck does he love his palebro. And he'll get to love his palebro for sweeps and sweeps and fucking sweeps.
Except he doesn't. His master didn't say how many "sweeps" was. And apparently he motherfucking counted the chatting when they weren't close. He's called on the fucking meteor. And not to be a soldier, but to be a motherfucking grubsitter! And then he has to break off his fucking moirallegiance for his fucking deal.
We told you not to take it.
He needs something to destroy. Something to cull. But there aren't enough people left for a good rampage. So he pulls one in. The tealblood's worth it to break and she lets him. So he does. Over and over again and no one gives a fuck.
It's good to have that kind of control. It's good to get her blood and tears on his hands on a regular basis. Something to take his mind off of being so gentle with the green fuckers.
It's not a rainbow, but we'll take it. Soon, though, you must deliver.
He's planning to.
It's going to be fucking perfect. Then spiderbitch has to step in. She's hot enough, sure, but Gamzee's getting pretty fucking sick of having voices boss him around. Especially the ones that don't let him kill shit. But when she's talking the voices aren't, so whatever.
But then suddenly she's gone. He has one moment of lucidity, when he sees Terezi standing before him with his blood running off of her blade. Then the voices start motherfucking screaming.
Flesh breaks beneath his hands. He feels the snapping of bone, the give of bruising tissue. It's good, it's so fucking good. Maybe he'll leave her alive so he can do it again later. But something needs to die…
Rose, Kanaya, and Karkat start yelling.
What about them?
That'll fucking work.
The fight is a blur, like they all are when the voices call the shots. Then suddenly he's on his back, pinned to the rocky ground. Karkat hovers above him, pink tears running down his face. Gamzee follows them up to his eyes.
When had they turned red?
That beautiful red.
The red that was missing.
The last miracle he's gonna get.
He closes his eyes, glad that he got to see those eyes and that he was being given the silence by his best friend. Then there was nothing but quiet.