The Makara Family
The older women turned and smiled at the young descendant. He was around 19, clown makeup on his face and a large mass of tangled, dark black hair. His horns stood tall on his head with a dent-like twist in them. It was perfectly clear that he was Highblood's descendent just by looking at him.
"Sorry hon, but I need your name." She said sweetly
"Gamzee." He said, his usual lazy smile plastered on his face.
"Your whole name baby boy."
"Uhhh…. G-gamzee Makara, ma'am." He stuttered.
"Ma'am is what they called me mother, the name's Rayani Megolo. My status is The Book keeper, everyone calls me bookworm. What happened to your… brother? I assume he is?"
"Yes, he is my motherfuckin' bro. He went motherfuckin' crazy and sewed his motherfuckin' mouth shut. HONK!" Laughed Gamzee, his brother smacked him in the back of the head then made a series of hand signs. He then turned to face Reyani, his grin replaced with a pout.
"I'm mothe-" He was cut off when his brother smashed him in the face.
"I'm sorry about my language; it's a mo- A habit I picked up." He said.
"Most trolls swear, it's not as bad as it seems."
"Ya motherfucking see!" Shouted Gamzee, his brother simply rolled his eyes and made more hand-signs.
"His name is Kurloz Makara. 14 sweeps old."
"Ok, so around 22 human years…"She mumbled to herself.
""How old are you?"
"11 sweeps, 19 human years."
"Impressive.." She said, she then turned to write it down on her little form.
Gamzee stared at her for a minute before he spoke.
"Wha?" This caused Kurloz to hit him again.
He made more of his confusing hand-signs and Gamzee looked surprised.
"Thanks..." Gamzee stated.
"Like I said before, you can enter now."
"Oh, right." Gamzee stiffened as he said the words.
Kuloz grabbed his hand as they walked towards the huge room. He knew gamzee wasn't afraid of Highblood but intimidated by his parental like ancestor, he was only like this for a while. Highblood knew this as well so he was slightly cautious about how he spoke to and approached Gamzee. Gamzee, again, isn't scared of Highblood; he just isn't comfortable around anyone he wasn't with all the time. He was starting to spend more time with Highblood so he was getting used to it but…..
"Hello boys, It is so miraculous to motherfucking see you again!" Boomed Highblood.
Kuloz signed a greeting forming into that of:
'Hey dad, it's nice to see you too, but unfortunately I will not be able to stay Regretfully, I have other important matters to attend to. I am awfully sorry.'
"That's fine Kurloz. I understand," He then turned to Gamzee and smiled. "Looks like it's just us then Gamzee."
Gamzee simply nodded at the ground as he fidgeted with the end of his shirt.
*Half an hour later…*
Kurloz had already left and gamzee felt comfortable, He was currently sitting on one of the parts of Highblood's marvellous throne talking about what he had been up to since he'd last seen his ancestor but a knock on the door silenced him mid-sentence as his head snapped towards the door as he watched nervously. Highblood noticed this and so as he turned to grab his mask he also grabbed Gamzee and settled him on his lap facing away from the door.
"Enter!" Highblood's voice boomed through the room.
Gamzee was about to protest but several footsteps sounded their way to his ears. Several trolls had entered the room, he could tell this much. He clung to Highblood's shirt as he shook nervously. The other trolls looked at Gamzee with sinister smiles and evil thoughts that would disgrace their own ancestors about what Gamzee was doing on Highblood's lap. Gamzee could feel the stares of the malevolent troll's and started to shake more violently. Highblood caught this and moved his large hand to shield Gamzee which was easy considering Highblood's large size. Grand Highblood was a thousand times larger than the small figure in his lap. Whispers came from the crowd as the action was performed by Highblood.
"SILENCE!" Boomed Highblood's angry and aggressive voice all through the room, causing several objects to shake, including his very throne.
"Now, I am going to crush your pathetic excuses for think pans by telling you the situation presented to you, you insufferable lowbloods, Understand!?" Nods and mumbles of agreement came from the crowd.
"This here is my decedent, he is very much like my son and he is socially anxious. That is why he is sitting on me. I expect you will go about business as it was. Am I clear?"
Everyone nodded.
"Now then, what is the issue?"
"Duel scar has killed 3 trolls in a drunken rage. He is now under watch of guards but we need your approval for his execution."
"Hmm..." Highblood thought for a moment before feeling a shift in his lap. He looked down to see what Kuloz had described as sober Gamzee. He hadn't even noticed that Gamzee had been eating it. He was taken back. He could literally feel the rage emanating from Gamzee's very flesh and bones and blood dripped from what used to be scars on his face. On his shirt, rainbow blood splatters suddenly became noticeable. Gamzee had turned in his 'seat' to face the other trolls and looked up at Highblood. Highblood got the hint and moved his hand out of the way. Gamzee then spoke.
"His execution will proceed as told, He is to have horns clipped and knifed to the boards by his motherfuckin' hands and feet!"
The trolls were horrified. He was EXACTLY like The Grand Highblood.
"He will be branded and made a slave to the carnival."
Now even Highblood was surprised but quickly replaced it with a look of pride, not that anyone could see with his mask on. Gamzee was defiantly his descendent and he wouldn't have asked for more. A troll stepped forwards and bowed his head.
"Speak now." Highblood said in his normal cold voice.
"Where shall we brand him?"
Gamzee looked up at his ancestor with curiosity and Highblood looked back with an awaiting look that he was waiting for an answer.
"He will have two brandings. One on his lower front like a tramp stamp and the other on his left eye." Gamzee smirked as he said this.
The low-bloods nodded and left the room, leaving Highblood and Gamzee to get back to their conversation.