Gamzee Makara. The clown that had lived his peaceful lonesome on a rocky outcrop, minding his own business away from the general populace for as long as his think pan could recall. Moirail to one Karkat Vantas and dopey companion to most in their small group of trolls. Yet it seems like he has almost been completely scrubbed from the face of Alternia. At least so it seemed. The purple blooded troll had long since lost contact with his friends, yes. But he was far from dead. Hell the troll still remembered the day he had left his hive behind, left any form of comfort he had once known far far behind him.
Gamzee had been quite excited by the idea of actually meeting his moirail face to face. It was something he had almost dreamed of. Seeing a few pictures here and there of Karkat on social media had made it feel a little more real for Gamzee, sure. But in the long run it had given him a yearning. Something tugging deep in the pit of his stomach, the need for troll on troll contact. Something that Gamzee had never once experienced in his existence. He had vague memories of his own lusus, but that was from wrigglerhood. He was much older now and obviously was more than capable of handling himself. He will be eight sweeps soon enough anyway. It was time to grow up right?
Of course and that seemed like an adventure in and of itself! So the clown was more than eager as he started to pack his bags. He wanted to at least have clothes when he stayed over at Karkat's hive. Hell maybe even some pie tins? They could have some actual parties with that shit. Enough horns to add to some sort of pile to have all sorts of feelings jams. Yet, this would never happen. There would never be that level of comfort in Gamzee's life again. His reality would start to crumble around him as soon as he stepped through the threshold of his hive.
His normally silent home seemed to have more than a few visitors. Trolls much like Gamzee himself, some bigger, some not. All strong looking and most smiled at seeing him. But Gamzee couldn't help but feel something was wrong. Looking back he wished he had trusted his gut feeling. He wished he had run, he had tried to get away. But at the same time, part of him wanted companionship. Karkat could wait until after he said hello to his new guests right? Of course. Too bad this wasn't a friendly talk. He was propositioned to join as a subjugglator, to join a religion that he was already deep in believing. However Gamzee did at first refuse. He had plans after all and part of him didn't quite grasp the situation at hand and how fully outnumbered he was. Not to mention his already drugged up state.
They didn't take no for an answer.
For the next three sweeps he was in hell. Forced to fight, forced to stay away from the sopor he had practically lived on. The withdrawal made him wish he was dead at times, getting the shit kicked out of him didn't help either. Eventually he snapped. At first he wondered if that was what they wanted. He didn't stop however, not until his opponent was nothing more than a stain on the ground. Yet even with culling a member of his own blood he was rewarded. This behavior continued and kept getting positive feedback. It was survival, but also the only bits of troll on troll interaction he had ever had. He wanted to keep in good standing with his new group.
Yet when giving into all these feelings he seemed to lose the empathy for most other trolls. All trolls like him were like this, so it wasn't wrong right? There were times. Small moments when he would go after a troll much smaller than himself, per request of the empire or for speaking out against him, that he would hesitate. They were too easy a kill and it felt almost… sad. Yet he became one of the best at his job, taking out any troll asked. Part of him even enjoyed it, it was an outlet for his frustration. He was still not one to blindly follow the empire. Granted no purple blood followed the rules like they were supposed to.
He went through three full sweeps of hell training and stayed under the thumb of other purple blooded clowns until the day he could prove himself strong enough to be allowed out. He went to his old hive first. It was all still there… well for the most part. Some things had been taken since it was an open hive for anyone now. It looked like someone had lived there for some time before leaving, by the way there were empty food containers and trash about. Old pie tins still littered the floor as well. He forgot how much of a mess it was in here. Granted most of the places in his church had walls covered in blood and troll heads, or other remains strewn about haphazardly. This may actually be a step up.
He mentally scoffed at the thought, Karkat would probably have a bitchfit if he-
Karkat.
Right. Him. It had been much too long since he dropped off the face of the planet. He wondered if Karkat was still alive. After leaving Gamzee learned the hard way why Karkat was so scared about his blood. Part of him knew it was dangerous, but the way the other clowns spoke about mutant bloods.. They were prizes. Bright colored blood that was priceless to have decorating their walls. He almost threw up when he heard that at first. Even if somehow Karkat avoided the drones it would be harder to avoid any higher mid or highblood willing to sell him off to a purple as a living paint brush. But the clown sadly couldn't keep his hopes high for the angry little troll he used to care for so deeply. Regardless even if the troll was still alive he was long moved on. Probably for the better. He wouldn't have approved of Gamzee's new line of work. The blood on his hands. He had always been so soft.
Gamzee shook his head of overgrown mass of hair, moving it out of his face and combing it back with long yellow claws. He looked monstrous now. He couldn't afford to be that soft lanky clown from before. No he needed to eat to have the energy to fight if the need arises. He looked so much like his ancestor now it was almost uncanny. He was gaining the reputation to match. The more trolls knew of you the less they are likely to fuck with you. He also had gained a massive amount of scars over his time. All over his body, including his face. Luckily his paint covered up most of those unsightly scars.
He made his way through the hive to find his old laptop shoved up in the bag he had packed. He was kind of surprised it hadn't been stolen after all this time honestly. Maybe no one actually saw it stuffed back in a pile of horns and clothes. He glanced at some of his old shirts, he used to be so small… He went back to his laptop, opening it up and- it's dead. After about twenty minutes of him shuffling around for the charger he found it. He leaned back in the horn pile and plugged it in. It felt almost nostalgic in a way. He gave a small clownish grin, his fanged teeth peaking out even worse than what they had been in the past. He really did look like a beast. His nose a bit crooked as well since he had it smashed in a few times over the sweeps.
However after he finally got the old machine up it about crashed with the sheer amount of notifications. Some from Tavros, some Sollux, Equius and… Karkat. There were so many from Karkat. Some were even from that night. Before Gamzee could catch himself he could feel purple tears streaming down his face. He gave shuttered breaths, gripping at the laptop so tightly he was almost afraid he would snap it. He tried to stop himself from this display. He was too old to cry like this. It took him a while, just waiting for the notifications to stop before he finally opened up messages, not even sure what he would do. But he needed confirmation he was okay