Act 1

Gamzee Makara, the youngest of the Highblood Makara family, twenty three years of age, walked down the immense hall of his estate. The red, hard lush carpet brought a homely atmosphere, the walls studded with various bookcases full of lengthy volumes on various subjects based around on anatomy and philosophy, shelves full of old trinkets of glass statues and tiny clocks. Large gold and red curtains were swept back with their matching golden tassels tying them back. The dying sun created shadows on the red carpet, occasionally the orange sunshine fell on Gamzee's midnight black hair, lighting his horns and igniting the dull gaze in his eyes.

He flexed his arm slightly and fixed his sleeve collar, folding back the fabric and pinning it with a pearl button. He walked diligently into the even larger wood framed dining room. With a small twitch to fix his tie, he took the seat next to the far head of the table and looked down at the empty white plate in front of him.

"Mitnua, I take it our guest has yet to arrive." Gamzee looked at the passing servant. The four horned troll gave him a look, the little twitch of his lips told Makara he was surprised at the sudden attention. Kurloz picked up this one down at the market a few years back, giving him a helmet to fit his shaky mental state.

"He's coming!" Mitnua said a little too loudly, he clamped his hands over his mouth at once. "...He's coming."

"How long?" Gamzee craned his head to the side.

"Few minutes...Few minutes!" And with that the little lower blooded troll scuttled away. "I'll get the food!"

Almost on cue, the doorbell rang. The ringing echoed throughout the halls, making Gamzee stand at once and walk speedily to the front door. He fixed his tie once more and found his brother, Kurloz already opening the door.

"Brother, really? This is my guest." Gamzee chided his mute brother. Kurloz looked back with a teasing smile, the thick black stitches straining against his skin. Behind him Gamzee's guest peered timidly around Kurloz's tall form. "Please, follow me. I'll show you to the dining room."

Kurloz caught up to his younger brother and signed "Why did you bring a lowblood?"

"Is there any rule against it?" Gamzee didn't hesitate to sign him back.

"Father will be angry." Kurloz warned with a stern gaze.

"He's always angry." The younger Makara gave a shrug and shooed his brother away with a look. With hands clasped behind his back, he slowed his stride so his guest would stop storming so hard in effort to keep up with him. "I do hope I have caused you no trouble with your time."

"It's...fine. There was nothing going on tonight." He answered back.

Gamzee grit his teeth.

"Although, I am most certainly honored for such an invitation," His guest stuttered in his hasty response to save himself. "I would have made time for this...anyways."

Gamzee relaxed his jaw and stepped into the dining hall. He stopped by a chair next to the head of the table and gestured for his guest to sit down. Once the large horned troll was set in his chair, Makara sat opposite him.

"The cooks have prepared a three course meal for us this evening," Gamzee said to break the long silence, he lowered his eyes at the guest. "I do hope you are fond of meat."

"I..uh...haven't had in such a while...with the shortages and all." Travos, the name of his guest, answered.

"You are certainly in for a treat this evening, I suppose." Makara nodded and watched as a maid came out with two large plates. A servant behind her carried two wine bottles with a wine glass in each hand.

Both plates were identical in food, a large, delicately made salad tossed expertly with cheeses, dressings and some slices of meat on the side. The meat was cooked to a timid softness. Although, to Tavros's surprise, the juices that came from the meat were blue.

"What type of meat is this?" Tavros asked, dodging Makara's gaze as they ate.

"From the far off lands...an exotic animal, as Kurloz puts it." Gamzee offered a short, reassuring smile. Although it was hardly a smile in Tavros's opinion.

"...Why did you call for me here?" Tavros couldn't help but ask.

Tavros Nitram was a man of twenty one years, with little education to back him into a well paying apprenticeship anywhere. He, like every low blood out here, was pressed down by the highbloods, mostly the Makaras themselves. He lived deep in the slums, constantly living in fear of the other, less civilized bloods that were forced to live around him. When Tavros received a payment of a thousand gold coins in turn for a night with the youngest Makara, he had no choice but to swallow his pride and take it. His lusus needed the money more than Nitram needed his pride.

"You took the payment." Gamzee said simply.

"Why me?" Nitram dared to press.

"I give you money, I give you food, I allow you to enter my home...and you continue to ask questions?" Makara watched as Tavros fidgeted in his seat. "This is why I called for you, Mr. Nitram. You are unlike the rest."

"I live in the slums, I work day to day hoping I don't get stabbed in the street one faithful night and I nearly eat out of the gutters," Nitram fumbled with his anger, "I am no different than those...animals that live around me. They just know how to live better than me."

"You think of yourself like a beaten dog in a wolf's pack then? Receiving only the scraps and bitten when you try for more," Makara shook his head. "So you must think of this as being fed from an owner. Tell me, , are you afraid I'll turn around and beat you with a rolled newspaper?"

"...I came here for money not to be humiliated." Tavros answered in a low voice. "But, I'm not expecting to leave this house of all places without my back carved in with your insignia like I have seen done to most."

"You misinterpret the rumors." Makara shook his head. "Those were my father's guests and prisoners. I nor my brother break such house laws."

Before Tavros could say anything the servants were back with the second course. On either of their plates was a large portion of meat that was stuffed with steaming rice and vegetables, blanketing the stuffed meal were slices of what looked to be the breast meat of the animal. Around this dish were green leafy vegetables of all sorts, small tomatoes and the occasional berry scattered along the plate.

"That's a lot of..."

"Animal? I think not," Makara waited for Nitram to fork his way into the delicately cooked food. "We never waste a single bit of the animal, as my father would say."

"Then it's a good idea I've never bothered to look in your garbage for food." Tavros said quietly.

If Gamzee was angry at this, he didn't show it. Instead he put on the slightest twitch of a smile and cut open his food delicately.

"You ah...worked as a doctor before, right?" Tavros started up a conversation once more, slightly guilty at his previous comment.

"I did, for a short while." Gamzee nodded, taking bit of meat with rice piled on top.

"Why...why'd you quit?"

"My father didn't appreciate me saving lowblood lives," Gamzee gave a curt move of his head as his spoke, keeping his eyes focused on his guest even as he cut his meal into sizable bites. "The family hardly profited from it considering I did most of my surgeries for free. So I moved onto something more pleasing to his eye. I became a sort of contractor for many of the failing...business out there."

Nitram took a small sip of his wine, dodging his gaze.

"Is that why you called for me?" He said finally. "Because of my dying business?...I can assure you I have nothing."

"I did not bring you here for any business. I am well aware of your state of living, ." Makara swished the wine in his cup and took a short drink.

"Then why?" Tavros narrowed his gaze at Gamzee. The youngest Makara only watched Tavros's growing aggravation, he relished the feeling. Makara rarely was able to have such a conversation with anyone, any conversation with emotion that is.

Lightening flashed outside, making Nitram jump in surprise. Wine spilled out of his cup and onto his now empty plate. Rain started to patter hard against the large mansion. Maids, at once, began to close the curtains around them.

"Well, as a host I certainly cannot allow you to walk out there in the rain," Gamzee said at once. "You will stay here for the night."

"Wait but-"

"Mitnua!" Makara called out. The buzzing little troll came in, looking at Makara for orders.

"Take, Mr. Nitram up to the guest bedroom. He will be staying for the night. Allow him an extra set of clothing to rest." Gamzee stood to take his leave, ignoring Nitram's protests.

"Come! Come!" Mituna grabbed at Nitram's sleeve.

As Gamzee walked toward the kitchens his brother came to his side, signing furiously at him.

"Why the hell did you feed him our food?" If he could scream, he would.

"He was our guest, brother." Gamzee answered calmly.

"So were the others, but you killed them all!" He signed. "That was a waste of good food, Gamzee. And you know it!"

"I don't intend to kill this one. Calm down, brother. I can handle this," The youngest Makara chided his brother, "But do not go to father. You know it'll cause more trouble than it's worth."

Kurloz took his leave, angrily storming off to some other room while Gamzee pushed through the flapping doors of the kitchen. A dozen cooks were shuffling around, cleaning up the remainders of dinner.

"Master Makara what do you wish to do with...the remainders...?" One servant asked. Two other servants pulled back the container top and gave way to a served head of a blue blooded troll that was prisoner to Gamzee's father. His soulless yellow eyes looked up at the ceiling, mouth gaping and half clogged with its own blue blood. It's teeth were still intact and its hair was shaved, gone and unable to tell its gender now. The surgical rip where Gamzee himself gave this troll a quick death cleared through the spinal cord. The rest of the cord curled around it in the container along with some other parts that weren't use in tonight's meal.

"I do hate to throw away good food...but the brain is bad for the eater's mind," Gamzee gave a little pout, "Burn it and do what you will with the ashes."

"Yes, Master Makara." The green blooded maid nodded and took the container to the furnace room.

"I'd crave a yellow blood for tomorrow, perchance." Gamzee started up out of the kitchen. "Put them in the holding cell."

"Yes, Master Makara." A passing blue blood shuffled past, queasy at the sight of the container.


Upstairs, Tavros Nitram was getting dressed in the plain white pajamas Gamzee had sent up to his room with Mitnua. He just finished brushing his teeth and spotted Mitnua shuffling awkwardly around his room with his clothing.

"No need to wash them," Nitram said, "I...plan to leave in the morning."

"No no no no no no no." Mitnua shook his head furiously. "You can't. Makara will be mad. I..ohh...I don't like Gamzee mad."

"Why would he be? I need to leave, Mitnua." He pressed, narrowing his gaze at the helmet wearing troll.

"Ohhhh...now you're mad..." His yellow nails dug into the plastic of the helmet. "No no no no no no."

"I'm not mad, Mitnua. Don't worry." He tried to calm down the troll.

"You'll be mad...like all of them were..." Mitnua bit his black lip, "After you find out what Gamzee feeds. He feeds his guests 'good food' but it's not good food. no no no no no."

Before Tavros could ask Mitnua what the hell he was talking about the little troll left the room, with Nitram's clothes.

"Good food?" Tavros asked aloud but shook away the thought. Instead he curled into the feather bed, softer than anything he's ever slept on, and dreamt of his lusus.