Karkat returns to the room while I attempt to appearify my psychology books from some point after my entrance to Sburb. Probably directly before or after my Grimdark episode would be best. I hadn't been thinking much about psychology at the time. I didn't hear his feet come to an abrupt halt, but I did hear something akin to a "Gak!" and then a rushed charge over to the bathroom door. "YOU SHAMBLING BUFFOON! PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS CLOTHED AND HOLY, TELL ME YOU DID NOT PRANCE AROUND THIS ROOM WITH YOUR SHAME GLOBES VISIBLE TO ALL THOSE WHO WOULD NEED TO IMMEDIATELY SCRUB THEIR EYES WITH LAVA!?" He turns his panicked face to me, his cheeks burning a bright red. "OHMYGOGIAMSOSORRY Kanaya TOLD ME WHAT HAPPENED AND I FIGURED YOU WOULD SLEEP THE WHOLE TIME, I DIDN'T KNOW THAT FLYING FUCKTARD WOULD TAKE HIS CLOTHES OFF IN FRONT OF YOU ARE YOU OKAY?!" He panted, taking a whooping deep breath. It amazes me still that he talks just like he types sometimes.
"HELLO!? OH MY GOG DID HIS BONE BULGE MAKE YOU RETARDED? LOOK WHAT YOU DID GAMZEE! SHE NO LONGER HAS MENTAL FACULTIES LEFT! GOG DAMN IT YOU GIANT SHIT MOUNTAIN!" I burst into laughter, "SEE! NOTHING LEFT! GOOD JOB YOU BEHEMOTH OF A SWIMBEAST TURD!" Collecting myself I finally wheeze out, "No, Karkat, he undressed in the bathroom, er, ablution block. I think he tossed these out so you could make him new ones?" His hyperventilation slowed, eying the neatly folded shirt and pants. "Yeah, I guess that was the plan...what the hell is he going to wear while he waits? I imagine you don't want to set fire to your furniture after his unburnished gluteals sit in them." I hadn't thought...yeah. Don't want naked troll ass on my bed, at least not right now. Gogdamnit brain! Stop thinking like that! A stubborn tingle tickles my nethers. Gah. Willing the image from my mind, I muse out loud, "Unfortunately all I have to offer are my own clothes. I think I have a skirt long enough, and maybe a stretchy tank-top. We can try to appearify something of his, if you like." Karkat takes a few more calming breaths before he speaks again, "So, your eyes were not assaulted by that giant purple chucklehead's nude flesh?" I force down a blush, glad he can't hear my thoughts, "No, Karkat. My eyes are as virginal as the day I was born." My mind isn't. He relaxes visibly. "Sorry. He does that, so I had to ask. Are you still going to treat him?" It's cute how concerned he is.
"Yes, there is no need to worry." I reassure him. He sits at the table where the offending shirt and pants have been laid out. "I've tried to appearify clean clothes for him, but all I get is goo. I've been afraid to use any of the alchemizers in the lab because someone might figure out what I'm doing." I nod, "Do you have anything that may fit him?" He lets out a hoarse cough of a laugh, "Hardly, he looks like he's trying to be a model for a musclebeast painting in my clothes." I hem and haw. Quite the predicament. Karkat is taller than me, but not as tall as him. Dave is almost the same height, but I doubt that would end well. Terezi is shorter than I, Kan hates him, so..., "Very well then. Give him one of your shirts, and I shall give him the longest skirt I have. It will have to do for a few hours. I shall escort you to the nearest alchemiter and if anyone asks I'll explain." He scratches behind his nubby horn, "I guess. Sure. I've got one in my sylladex." He places it on the table, it really does look two sizes too small. I walk over to the wardrobifier and open it, damn thing's been malfunctioning since the rip in paradox space. The longest skirt I have...hmm. I hear the water turning off in the bathroom, and quickly grab a swooshy eyelet skirt Kanaya made. It's about three inches too long, hopefully that would help. I turn to him, "Karkat, could you..." With a groan he takes his shirt and my skirt and goes to the bathroom.
"LISTEN UP YOU GIANT FUCKWAD! ROSE AND I ARE GOING TO GET YOU NEW CLOTHES. UNTIL THEN, I FUCKING ORDER YOU TO PUT ON MY SHIRT AND THIS SKIRT. STAY HERE AND WAIT. HIDE IF SOMEONE COMES." Gamzee begins to interrupt with a whine before Karkat cuts him off, "NO COMPLAINING, YOUR CLOTHES ARE GOING TO BE SET ON FIRE AND OFFERED TO THE DIRTY LAUNDRY GODS, SO WE SHALL NOT FEAR THEIR WRATH. THEN THE ASHES WILL BE SHOT INTO SPACE FOR THE GOOD OF ALL TROLLKIND. COULD YOU PLEASE HAVE THE DECENCY TO AT LEAST COVER YOURSELF WITH A TERRYCLOTH MOISTURE REMOVER?!" I hear muffled laughter again, "Hahaha, sorry bro. Thanks. Those clothes were getting pretty rudenasty, now that I think about it. Thanks for tryin to make me so pretty!" Karkat squawks as he is pulled into, I can only assume, a naked hug. Stop thinking of Gamzee naked! Bad brain! "LET GO OF ME THIS INSTANT YOU TOWERING FUCKUP!" I keep my back resolutely turned while I await Karkat's skittering escape from the bathroom. The back of his shirt is wet. I shake violently with a silent giggle to avoid his ire. "Are we quite ready, Mr. Vantas?" He mumbles something under his breath that sounds distinctly like "asshole" as he grabs the offending clothing and strides over to his shoes, violently shoving his feet in. He fluidly speeds out of the door. I hurry to follow behind.
"I still don't think it's a good idea to make his clothes where everyone can see them. He's not ready to see the others yet." I shrug in agreement, and he steers us further into the meteor than I have ever gone. It feels a bit claustrophobic, with the moisture on the pipes above us pattering down in steady drips. "Where exactly on the meteor are we, Karkat? I cannot say I've traversed these halls before." He keeps moving forward, speaking brusquely, "We're pretty much at the core. Most of the equipment down here doesn't work anymore." Okay. Rude. We step into what is more or less a cavern, or at least a hollow, in the center of the meteor. Newly alchemized equipment stands in the center of the room. The echoes of the room follow our footsteps with a mournful boom-oboooum. Quite eerie, really. "I take it this is where you've been hiding Gamzee? Or are you just going to bury me here under a rock somewhere?" His face sours. "Very funny. Fucking laugh a minute with you. Jegus. I wouldn't show anyone where that honking asshole hides anyway."
I guess he still doesn't trust me. I wave away the unspoken accusation that I would reveal his moirail's location, "So how are we going to make clean clothes, anyway? If we copy what he has here, will it remain dirty?" He doesn't look pleased with my response, but he turns to the machines anyway. "I don't know. It's the first time I've been able to get him out of these fucking disgusting rags in two years." What? He stomps the rest of the way over to our destination, echoes reverberating in his wake. If he hasn't been able to get him out of his clothes, "How much physical contact have you two had over the last few years? Is that not part of a proper moirailship?" I stop beside him, pressing for information. "Has it been that much of a struggle to keep him in line?" He stares intently at the buttons before him, captchaloging his clothes, reading the codes, and placing them in the alchemeter. He won't say a word. New clothes appear in a flash of florescence. As he grabs the newly made cloth, realization hits me as hard as the stiff set of his shoulders and the knife of a scowl on his face. This is dangerous territory.
"Karkat, you can't think...I, ahm...hmm. He's a patient, Kar. I'm not interested in him." Yeah. I'll keep telling myself that. Before the hatred bubbles to the surface, I can see a vibration from the tips of his toes to his face. It contorts into a mask of rage before he spits out, "OF COURSE I'M FUCKING JEALOUS! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! YOU'VE TALKED TO HIM, WHAT, TWICE? IT'S THE FIRST TIME IN TWO GOGDAMN YEARS HE'S EVEN ACTED CLOSE TO NORMAL! THE ONLY TIME I CAN GET NEAR HIM IS WHEN HE'S A DANGER TO OTHERS, WHICH, BY THE MERRY FUCKING WAY, IS PRETTY MUCH ALL THE GOGDAMN TIME! I HAVEN'T SLEPT OR KEPT NORMAL HOURS SINCE THE "INCIDENT" MAKING SURE THAT GARGANTUAN FREAK SHOW DOESN'T EAT EVERYONE ON THIS SHIP, AND YOU LA-DI-DA YOUR WAY INTO HIS LIFE AND HE. FUCKING. SMILES. FOR. THE. FIRST. TIME. IN. TWO. YEARS." This kid is a volcano of self hatred! Note to self: Get Karkles on the therapy bandwagon. In a flash, he's in my face, not quite shoving me, but awfully close.
"IT'S MY JOB TO KEEP HIM IN LINE, IT'S MY JOB TO KEEP HIM HAPPY. I PITY THAT MOTHERFUCKER SO GOGDAMN HARD IT HURTS TO LOOK AT HIM. HE'S THE FUCKING SUN TO ME." He starts to lose steam at this point, his voice cracking in a whisper, "He's...the only quadrant I have." The room echoes his last words, over and over, like a mother soothing a child. He looks at the new clothes in his hand, "Still fucking dirty," dropping them to the floor. They make a dust cloud as they settle. Ew. I can't say I'm surprised at his outburst, but I thought it would take longer. He slumps to the floor against the lathe, grumbling under his breath. I'm pretty sure I hear "humans" and "asshole factory." Guilt washes over me, dirty and brackish like baywater. I hate making him so insecure, I can't help it that trolls are so damn weird about EVERYTHING. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. "Karkat, please, look at me." He begrudgingly raises his head, "I will explain this to you one time, and one time only. Make sure you burn it into your memory, or I will do it for you with the needles of Oglgoth, I swear to Gog."
His eyes widen infinitesimally, but he doesn't make a sound as I speak in even, reassuring, tones. "I am not interested in becoming Gamzee's moirail. I never will be. I will not, under any circumstances, attempt to disrupt, disband, or undermine your relationship with him. You have been the glue holding him together for two years, and I know that must be exhausting. I fully believe what you two have together can only improve with therapy. If he is no longer agitated, perhaps he can participate in the more common patterns of moirailship, though I'll admit I don't entirely know what that is." I hold a finger up to stop him from launching into explanation as I continue. " I am very sorry if any of my attempts to be polite or helpful so far have been misconstrued by either him or you. My only goal is to heal his mind. He will be absolutely instrumental to the outcome of our final session, and we need him to act with a rational mind."
Karkat growls, "What about the others?" Rubbing my hand on my temple in frustration, I reply in kind, "I intend to gather the others to debrief them on my mission, they need to get used to the idea of his return. I will explain that he cannot be harmed. He's too important. In our very near future, a battle with a nearly omnipotent, time-traveling demon will come to pass. Our only saving grace is unpredictability. As the Bard of Rage, Gamzee's very defining characteristic is that his actions CANNOT BE PREDICTED. In short, we are doomed without him." He harrumphs and glares at me. Oh, for pity's sake, "And lastly, will you PLEASE stop throwing a hissy fit every time I pat his shoulder. It's therapy, not a make out session, you fruity rumpus asshole factory!" I finally see the ghost of a smile on Karkat's lips. "Now get up so we can make some clothes for that hulking mammoth of a troll."
