CG: LALONDE.
CG: ANSWER ME.
CG: I AM UP TO MY GANDERBULBS IN HOT, STEAMING SHIT AND YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE ONLINE THAT WILL BE MOSTLY SENSIBLE ABOUT IT. SCRATCH THAT, YOU'RE GOING TO SAY SOMETHING ABOUT DEFECATION AND HOW I NEED A HUMAN GRUB DIAPER.
CG: YOU DO NOT WANT TO SEE ME LOSE MY SHIT. ANSWER ME.

Oh goodness. Karkat is blowing up your Pesterchum and you only saw it just now. Has he run out of tolerance for John?

TT: Calm down, Karkat. I promise not to make a joke about diapers, even if you do sound as if you need one.

"OH YOU BITCH." pops up on the screen, but the grudge is short-lived. It takes him only five seconds to add, "REALLY THOUGH, THIS IS SERIOUS. IT HAS TO DO WITH GAMZEE. SORT OF."

"Go on." You have to catch the bus to school soon, so hopefully this frenzy of his won't last too long. It's about his moirail and you know you can't leave him to his own devices – his friends are probably going to sleep right now.

CG: I WENT TO VISIT GAMZEE A WHILE AGO AND HE ACTUALLY LET ME INTO HIS HIVE.
CG: LONG STORY SHORT, MOSTLY BECAUSE I CAN'T REMEMBER ANYTHING AFTER GOING INTO HIS CREEPY "KEEPER'S" RESPITEBLOCK AS JOHN WOULD CALL IT, I'VE WOKEN UP IN MY OWN HIVE FEELING LIKE SHIT AND I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON WITH MY HANDS.
TT: Care to elaborate?
CG: THEY'RE COVERED IN BLOOD.
CG: MINE.
CG: AND I'M PRETTY SURE THEY WOULD HURT MUCH LESS IF I JUST SLICED THEM OFF.
TT: Do you believe Gamzee did this?
CG: HE'S ABOUT AS HARMLESS AS NITRAM.

There's a pause before he sends the next message – he might be doubting himself. You've tried your best to understand the importance of this race's quadrant system, and from what you've been told, moirails are very important; possibly the most important of the four quadrants. Not being available to communicate is not only bad for Gamzee: it hurts Karkat just as much. But you doubt bleeding hands are a common side effect.

CG: GAMZEE DIDN'T DO THIS. HE WOULDN'T. HE WAS ACTING WEIRD BUT HE'S FINE.
CG: FUCK, I CAN'T TYPE ANYMORE. I'M GOING TO GO DROWN MYSELF IN SOPOR. GO DO YOUR SCHOOLFEEDING THING.
TT: Get well, Karkat. I know you don't want to ignore him, but maybe you should stay away from Gamzee for a while. If you absolutely need to talk to him, use Trollian.
TT: I'll check up on you this evening.
-tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] at 7:46-

If only you could have asked about his wounds more. "Covered in blood" could mean so many different things, given the situation. Gamzee always gave you a bad feeling – earlier it was just because of his substance abuse, but now it feels different. You no longer trust the Makaras.

The bus ride to school is uneventful: you read as you always do while the surrounding kids argue about rumors (some of which you take the time to correct) or giggle about romance and celebrities. The bus comes to a stop in front of the southern D.C. high school. Children crowd inside and you follow the traffic until you reach your locker, where everyone is already waiting for you. This includes Dave, whom you've never seen before but definitely looks like the coolkid he so desperately tries to be online. He's watching John and Jade as they talk excitedly. John looks at you with an ecstatic smile and says, "Rose! This is Dave. The real Dave Strider!"

Then he looks troubled. He doesn't know that you're already aware of the communication barriers.

"It's wonderful to finally meet you, Dave," you greet. He waved at you like he's too cool to give an answer. "May I see your schedule?"

He pulls a folded paper from his pocket and shows it to you. You're trying to handle this delicately – only making sentences to which he can respond without having to pull out his phone or write in the notebook he has under one arm. Poor kid. It's a wonder the schoolboard let him enroll.

It's in first period that Jade tells you Dave's delimma. Her hands are folded in her lap and she's looking sadly at you while the teacher talks at the front of the room.

"He can't say anything. He doesn't even know very much sign language, Rose. Isn't it terrible? Please don't tell me he thinks he's too 'awesome' for sign language."

"That's precisely it," you whisper. The teacher glances at you but says nothing. "He and his brother are complicated. A family with no parental guidance will always have difficulties. He was brave to come to a public school."

"It's so hard to think of things to say to him. I don't want to offend him."

"He'll be fine, Jade. If he needs to tell us something, he'll write. The worst thing we could do it act like he's incapable. He's missing a voice, not part of his mind. Treat him like you would me or John."

"Okay..." she sighs.

After school you mention the sign language club to Dave before you catch the bus. You also mention that you would gladly attend if he's interested – hopefully he is. He could use a new way to get his irony across without taking so long to scribble it down, and it would reduce the overall discomfort among your group of friends.

When you arrive at home, your mother gives you a one-armed hug as she cradles a martini glass in the opposite hand. She asks you about school and then leaves the room when she realizes the only answer you're going to give is "Fine." Since it's still light outside, chances are Karkat is still asleep. Occupying your time today will be an early start on homework followed by an intense reading of wizarding tomes. You've become quite absorbed in a subsection on witchcraft trials when Pesterchum alerts go off on your computer: you begrudgingly slide off your bed and bookmark the page. Dave has left you two simple messages.

TG: first asl meeting next monday
TG: see you there

Good. Something told you Dave wouldn't be the type to struggle through his social life using only a notebook and pen, no matter how mysterious it made him. Thank goodness he has you for guidance. Not too long after this, Karkat's trolltag lights up and you immediately take it upon yourself to message him.

-tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] at 18:09-
TT: Faring well? I would assume your hands are better since you're online.
CG: THEY LOOK A LITTLE LESS LIKE SOMETHING THE FERAL MEOWBEAST DRAGGED IN IF THAT'S WHAT YOU'RE WONDERING. STILL STINGS LIKE A BITCH, BUT I'M SURVIVING.
TT: Glad to hear it.
CG: DAMN IT, LALONDE.
TT: Really, I'm relieved you're okay. I'm still worried about your visit to the Makara hive however, and I can't imagine how it happened. It seems that those two are oblivious to their own subjugglating lineage and being in a quadrant with you would undoubtedly subdue any ill will toward you from Gamzee. Do you think his keeper is responsible?
CG: GEE, I DON'T KNOW. I ONLY LOST MY MEMORY FROM THE TIME I WAS NEAR HIS RESPITEBLOCK TO THE NEXT FUCKING MORNING. COULDN'T BE HIM.
TT: So your suspicion is confirmed.
CG: IT'S LOOKING THAT WAY. THE SOPOR COULDN'T EVEN KEEP HIS FACE OUT OF MY DREAMS. HE'S LIKE A PARASITE.
TT: I may not be very knowledgeable of sopor slime's effects, but that sounds like a red flag. How were your hands injured?
CG: I TOLD YOU I DON'T KNOW.
TT: I mean you should describe it.
CG: OH. YEAH.
CG: THEY WERE REALLY BLOODY. I DON'T KNOW HOW TO DESCRIBE IT.
TT: Well, did you rinse the blood off? Was there any unusual coloration? Cuts or bruises? Missing appendages?
CG: ...COLORATION.
TT: The lack of specification worries me. Just how badly have you been mangled?
CG: NO, I'M FINE. JUST MY HANDS. THEY WERE

There is a long pause. He's being dodgy.

CG: I CAN'T TELL YOU. THE REMARKABLY AWKWARD ATTEMPTS TO HELP ME HAVE BEEN SPLENDID, LALONDE, BUT I CAN'T. I HAVE TO GO.
TT: Karkat, wait.
- carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased trolling tentacleTherapist [TT] at 18:34-

Too late. He's already offline. Something is terribly wrong – Karkat isn't telling the whole story. Unfortunately, the only one who can really get him to talk is John; they seem to get alone well and their conversations on the MMORPGs you all play lead you to believe that John is truly able to influence him. You've been suspicious that it takes a toll on John, however, because he's so optimistic and dealing with someone like Karkat must be difficult. You hate to shove something else on his shoulders, but it's for the best.

-tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 18:35-
TT: Karkat is hurt and refuses to cooperate.
EB: oh no! what's going on? he didn't tell me anything.
EB: wait, um. he's texting me instead.

A good fifteen minutes pass and you've turned to your book again while you wait. Then Pesterchum rings with a new message.

EB: he told me about it but why isn't he online?
TT: To avoid my questioning, presumably.
EB: oh. i guess that makes sense.
EB: haha, he says that he knew you would tell me about it.
TT: Has he told you anything about his wounds?
EB: ok this is really rude of me and i'm so sorry, but he says to keep it secret.
TT: Wonderful.
EB: but he's doing fine. apparently kankri is taking care of him. ...and is going to settle it.
TT: That's a bad thing, I suppose?
EG: karkat's not happy about it.
TT: Well, I do hope your attempts to comfort him go further than mine. Message me if my assistance is ever needed.
EB: sure thing. sorry again rose. this is weird stuff.
-tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 18:40-

You've always been so good at helping Dave. This is a strange feeling, being unnecessary. It's probably better that John handles this since he has experience... or something like that. Hopefully everything sorts out. A contradictory nagging thought is telling you to stay on high alert. One thing is for sure: the Makaras are not to be trusted.