#they come back drenched in faygo

[mangfotingar]

idk i think they would like insane clown posse south prk/genshn/dsmp dni

[purple-stuck]

Hi It's me again! I hope my excessive rambling in the tags wasn't too annoying I just really loved that drabble you wrote

If it's not too much can I request something with Sollux and Gamzee meeting in the subjugglator training ranks after Ascension?

I'd really love to hear what your headcanons might be or what fics you take inspiration from about subjugglators off-planet

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Gamzee's breath was perfectly steady, his heartbeat perfectly level, his mind completely calm. Even as he hopped from platform to platform, moving at speeds imperceivable to the naked eye, his body remained impossibly calm. Such was the Messiahs' gift to him and all purplebloods like him. With training, they could command their body to do the impossible.

Gamzee stopped atop a thin pole, claws digging into his perch as he got his barings. A sea of bloodied spikes spread out around him, ensuring him a slow death should he miss even a single pole or platform. But beyond that, lie his goal. His target. The horned outline of which was a mere speck in his vision.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Gamzee felt the wood begin to give way beneath his weight and lept to another perch, hoping between poles and bouncing away before the could bend against him. Thoughtlessly, he reasoned out the closest platform in between leaps. Automatically, he twisted his body to reach them. His body twisted in ways that crack and snap the bones of any other caste. If the graveyard full of mangled bones below him was any indication, even other purples struggled to make such moves.

Soon, Gamzee's shadow was cast over his prey. A club appeared in his hand, upraised so as to crack open his target's skull in one swing.

For the first time since this lesson began, his breath hitched.

Gamzee's feet hit the ground, his momentum stopped dead. His club hung over his target's shoulder.

Breathe. In.

Breathe. Out.

At this distance, Gamzee could see that his target wasn't even a troll at all. Rather, he'd been tasked with assassinating a mannequin, a hard plastic replica of his would be victim. Gamzee felt his posture relax before he pulled his club back and cracked the target's head of with one swing.

Purple paint sprayed over Gamzee as the body hit the floor and he turned to his audience and bowed.

The audience cheered as the lights flashed on, a cacophony of honks, whoops, and cheers as the stage was revealed in full. If he bothered to look towards the pit, Gamzee could see all the remains of the clowns who came before him and failed. He did not look.

"well, would you look at that."

"HE ACTUALLY MANAGED TO PASS."

Two ropes descended down around him, carrying the Twin Instructors, clad in their iconic matching masks. Comedy's voice was sing song, contrasting Tragedy's melancholy just as their half masks contrasted their mood. Gamzee looked up to see half of Tragedy's face grinning down at him.

"still, you haven't quite managed to beat our record."

"MAYBE WE SHOULD HAVE HIM GO AGAIN."

The two broke into giggles, with the rest of the tent following. Gamzee heard a few voices call out for an encore and quietly hoped they wouldn't be heard. He didn't have it in him to go another round. He didn't know how Sollux did it so easily, controlling his body they way he did.

Tragedy leaned down and gave him an encouraging pat on the back, causing Gamzee to grin at him tiredly in between pants. Comedy leaned down to his other side, handing him a faygo and a rag.

"OH, BUT HE'S SO WORN OUT. WE WOULDN'T WANT TO BREAK OUR NEW FAVORITE."

"we'd love to share notes, but this isn't your show anymore. head to the lounge, it's time for the next act."

Gamzee chugged the bottle, nearly emptying it in two gulps as he walked off stage. He waved his thanks, to tired to talk, as he shoved his way through the curtains and into the lounge.

Gamzee finished his faygo as he lazily scanned the room. Normally, throwing a bunch of clowns into one room would be a recipe for disaster, but all was strangely quiet. It seemed like the others who passed the test were just as warn out from it as he was. It made him feel better to see his brothers and sisters laying around exhausted, half collapsed against walls or the couch. It made him proud to still be standing.

And then he saw Sollux, looking none the worse for wear as he hogged the couch. He smirked smugly as Gamzee made his way over, scooting over to let the shorter clown collapse next to him. "Jegus, you look like shit."

Gamzee flipped him off, causing Sollux to snort. "And you're acting like shit too. Maybe I'm a bad influence on you."

Gamzee snorted. "Shit man, I thought you didn't want me to be so friendly and clingy around you anymore." He wiped the sweat off his forehead, stopping to look at the facepaint that had melted onto his hand. "Although, a brother's got a point about. I ain't much to look at right now."

Sollux slid his half empty faygo down the table, which Gamzee guzzled happily. "Yeah, body control is hard. I've been doing it ever sense I grew hands and I still eat my swords sometimes. Nevermind the more advanced stuff."

Gamzee slammed the faygo bottle on the table. "Shit, man, my bones hurt. And my veins... and lungs. Fuck."

Sollux grunted and handed him a spare Nintendie Dualscream. "How about something to take your mind of it? It's been awhile sense I kicked your ass in Fiduspawn anyways."

It was Gamzee's turn to snort. "All right, you are on, motherfucker."

~

They were eight rounds in when the new clowns stopped coming in. Gamzee counted only five had made it in after him, but he was more focused on beating Sollux than keeping count. Either he'd gotten better or Sollux had gotten worse. The taller troll used to be able to kick his ass, now they were tied four to four. But, their fifth round was interrupted as two familar shadows were cast over them.

"DID YOU TWO BRING TOYS FROM BACK ON ALTERNIA ALONG?"

"just between the four of us, I've heard that's against the rules."

Gamzee and Sollux froze as the Twin Instructors leaned over them. Even Gamzee could feel everyone in the room staring at them. Gamzee had seen this set up before. Comedy and Tragedy learing over a helpless troll or two. Acting like they were just disappointed, like they were just going to give the rule breaker a stern talking to before they decapitated the mischief maker.

Instead, the twins doubled over into a giggling fit the spread through the room. The trolls around them joined in, some more nervously than others.

"JuSt KiDdInG!"

"WE KNOW OUR HIGHEST SCORERS..."

"....know better than to break the rules."

"AsSuMiNg YoU dId'T cHeAt!"

Sollux and Gamzee pushed themselves to their feet, hands moving to ask about their progress, but the duo pushed their hands aside.

"DON'T BOTHER WITH THAT."

"you're subjugulators now."

"YoU'rE oFfIcIaLlY fUnNy EnOuGh To LiStEn To!"

Gamzee let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He heard Sollux do the same before the cheers erupted around them. Tragedy grabbed his arm and hoisted him into the air with it to bare before the crowd, leaving him and Sollux to gaze at their audience.

"GIVE OUR BOYS A ROUND OF APPLAUSE."

"well, those of you who still have hands anyways."

Gamzee looked over at Sollux, himself being held up for all to see by comedy. It was strange to see Sollux actually look nervous, even if they were seemingly in the Twin's good graces. Sweeps of living according to their capricious whims was enough to instill a lasting fear in anyone.

Even when granted verbal permission to speak, the two didn't make a peep as the twins hefted them over their shoulders. The twins cheerfully waved off the crowd as they carried the two ascendants to their office.

Gamzee grunted as he was dropped into a chair to small for him, hearing Sollux swear off to the right as the same happened to him. Comedy and Tragedy flopped into their chairs on the opposite end of the desk, kicking their feet up on it.

"normally, we'd take the time to talk about boring business shit with you."

"PREP YOUR ASCENSION SPEECH AND ALL THAT BLAH BLAH BLAH."

"BuT lIkE wE sAiD, wE hAvE nOtEs."

Sollux and Gamzee shared a nervous look, before Sollux straightened up and spoke. "What, uh, about exactly?"

Comedy shook a chidding finger in their faces.

"WHY, YOU BOTH HESITATED."

"tripped at the finish line."

"DeRaIlEd A pErFeCtLy GoOd ShOw."

Gamzee looked over at Sollux in suprise. Sollux... hesitated? But he was used to killing shit. Hell, that was his idea of a date night. Gamzee hardly had time to consider it before Tragedy leaned in his direction.

"now you we perfectly understand. you've never dabbled with fresh paint before."

"YOU'VE ONLY BEEN OFF THE SLIME FOR JUST THREE SWEEPS AT THAT."

"BuT iT's YoUr BuDdY wE'rE cUrIoUs AbOuT."

They both turned to Sollux expectantly. He scratched the back of hia head. "I... well. Something made me reconsider." He rested his hands in his head. "There was.... a kill I'd been planning for a really long time. Something... big. Special. And, when I landed that kill, when I did kill her and savor killing her... it just felt empty?"

Gamzee knew what he meant. The image of a cart drenched in Cerulean blood flashes in his mind. "I'd... rather not get any more into it than that."

The Twins tented their hands as they nodded sympathetically. Comedy even reached over to pat him on the shoulder.

"oh, we've both been there before."

"I DID ESPECIALLY."

Tragedy bent down and fished around beneath the desk, nearly banging his golden mask on it in the process.

"I STILL REMEMBER MY FIRST KILL."

He placed a white horned skull on the desk, carefully preserved and cleaned even though it seemed to have been centuries old. Still, the more Gamzee looked at it, the more it looked slightly off. The horns seemed to be... fake somehow. Like they were made of some kind of old plastic. And the skull's facial structure was all wrong. Too thin, too light, too delicate looking. It looked like a troll but not quite. If Karkat were here, he'd call it a mockery of troll kind.

"you'd think he'd be honored."

"MY VERY FIRST KILL. SHE WAS SO CLEVER AND BRUTAL THAT I NEVER THOUGHT I'D PULL IT OFF."

He rubbed the skull fondly, clearly nostalgic. Part of him sounded almost remorseful over it too, strangely enough. Like talking about a long dead friend or a beloved canceled show.

"BuT iT fElT sO eMpTy."

Sollux cleared his throat, clearly annoyed, even if he couldn't outright say it. Gamzee couldn't blame him. The twins liked to talk about their first two kills a lot. "So, what's your point?"

Tragedy sighed wistfully and Comedy playfully roled her eyes and elbowed him to get him back on topic.

"THE POINT IS, I WAS LOOKING FORWARD TO IT."

"and when it's over, it always feels...."

"AnTiClImAcTiC."

Sollux hummed and considered this, but Gamzee could tell he wasn't quite buying it. Gamzee could tell that something else was needling away at him. Something deeper than just that.

"you'll probably get that feeling too."

Gamzee straightened up as he realized they were addressing him again.

"HERE'S A TIP. DON'T LOOK INTO THEIR EYES. IT'LL ONLY MAKE YOU MISS THEM MORE."

Comedy slid two communicators across the desk.

"YOU CAN TALK IT OUT WITH YOU QUADS, NOW THAT YOU'RE ALLOWED TO SEE THEM AGAIN. YOUR BRONZE HEART AND RUST DIAMOND PROBABLY MISS YOU."

They nodded at Sollux.

"and the Empress will be happy to see her favorite clown is safe."

[ask-them-bois]

Letters, pt 1.

It started with Hounding.

The giant purpleblood had just gotten up no more than an hour ago. He had showered, dressed, and gotten his facepaint on, then stepped out of his respiteblock to see Ashhur already awake, too.

The mutant was on the lounge plank, dressed in nothing but a pair of running shorts- it will forever bother Hounding how little clothing the kid chose to wear-, scrolling on the palmhusk Hounding had gotten him; he struggled with it because of his  long claws, but he’d figured out how to finagle his fingers just right that he could at least tap apps and scroll on it. Two of his eyes glanced up as Hounding came into the room.

“- .... .     -- .- .. .-..     .--- ..- ... -     -.-. .- -- .     -... -.-- ·-·-·-*” He said, his fins flickering. Hounding looked away from the abomination on his couch, feeling his bilesack clench; even though he’d agreed to take Ashhur in as an apprentice, it was still disgusting to see such a blatant mutant speak in a comfortable manor with him. He was getting used to it in increments, but still. *(The mail just came by.)

“THaNks, CUllbaiT.” Hounding grumbled, turning towards the door, “Have ya eaTeN yeT?” Ashhur made a sound that meant ‘yes’. “THeN geT Ta work.” Hounding said shortly, shoving the door open and heading outside.

As he walked towards his mailbox, he worked his jaw back and forth, his tusks scratching on his cheeks. At least the kid was hard working and loyal, he thought; he at least seemed dedicated to getting stronger, being an attentive  student these past few months. He slacked on chores and even fell asleep when Hounding explained the inner workings of them Empire to him, but... he was trying, and Hounding could at least find something mildly admirable in that.

Shaking the thoughts away- his dedication had nothing to do with the fact he was still a mutant freak- he reached the end of his lawnring and opened his mailbox, which was  mounted on his fence; a wrought iron fence surrounded Hounding’s hive, with a sweeping, black gate closed over the end of his scuttlebuggy parking sector. His mailbox had a opening on one side of the fence, and one on his side, which he popped open.

Grabbing the handful of communication papers, he turned and began walking back up to his hive as he shuffled them. A letter from the Church, a paycheck from one of his recent hits- which one was that from? Ah, yes, the teal freak with six eyes. Hounding needed to finish painting his skull- and a few worthless slips.

Under all of it, though, was a dark green envelope, sealed shut with golden wax. The stamp in the wax looked like the sun, with eight little bubbles between eight, wiggly rays. There was no return address. If it was about another job, there usually wasn’t. Although it was the Church that gave him his targets, he did occasionally get contacted by other purples asking for his help.

He ducked inside and made his way to the meal block, where he tossed the rest of the letters onto the island. Scooping a Faygo out of the meal vault, he paused to glance out the window; Ashhur was in the back lawnring, rigorously pulling himself up on a pull bar, his fins flared as he heaved himself upwards. Hounding had an entire gym’s worth of workout equipment in his back lawnring, and he’d been putting Ashhur to work on it nearly nightly. The mutant’s tattoos seemed to shimmer as he let himself drop from the bar, before he turned and moved towards the dirt track to run laps, grabbing a hydration bottle on his way.

Hounding turned away from the window and sat down at his table, flicking the lid off his soda. He took a swig of the cherry flavored, sugary goodness as he slit the envelope open with his claw and pulled out the papers, which he unfolded to read:

“My dearest Hounding~,

It is so lovely to 7inally contact you~. I do hope you are well~. I must say, I am quite impressed with you, sir~. I do apologize 7or contacting in such an archaic way, but I 7ear I would be 7ound out if I simply texted you~. Someone like me can’t a77ord to let that happen~. However, who I am is unimportant at the moment~. Indeed, Master Ur7ath, it is the jobs and money you care 7or, oui~? 7air enough, but I know you also enjoy one other thing: Revenge~.

Your nemesis, the one who calls himsel7 Innocent, is whom I am re7erring to~. You poor man, you struggled so long to hunt him down and cull him, and he came back to li7e~! It is too cruel, no~? I understand you have given up your pursuit of him, which is, truly, understandable~. A thousand years dead, best to let old bones lie, no~?

Ah, but even i7 Master Gorsin is no longer a target, you still consider him an abomination because o7 his bright hue~. I weep for that, Master Ur7ath~. I weep~! You have culled many I could have helped~! Ah, well~. Not all can be saved by the Unholy Atrocity~. Where was I? Oh, yes~!

I am sure you’re aware that Master Gorsin managed to produce a descendant~. A boy named Vornik Gorsin, who lives in the mountains~? Perhaps not, he does not have very many contacts~. A lonely boy, no~? Hoho, but I digress~. I7 you do not intend to kill Innocent, then perhaps you can still rid this world of what you consider 7ilth~. I do not condone this behavior, Master Ur7ath, I would rather see the boy saved, but he may be past salvation~.

7or you, his culling would be another retch exterminated from this world~. It would be quite the mortal wound in Master Gorsin’s side, too, no~? I cannot pay 7or this to happen- I cannot soil my silken gloves, and I personally wish no harm on Vornik’s hide- but it something to consider~. Perhaps it would be a 7itting test 7or your student~? Vornik and Ashhur are cousins o7 sorts; imagine the drama it would cause~! Not just between them, but their ancestors~! Oh I do revel in such theatrics~! It is all your choice, o7 course. I am just o77ering some 7ood 7or thought~.

Eternally yours, through the hell7ire o7 the Horrendous Monstrosity, The Blind Phoenix~.”

Hounding set the letter down, leaning back in his seat. He took another swig of Faygo, staring up at the chandelier above as he thought. Whoever this motherfucker was, they were trying to use him. He was smart enough to see that, even if it was written in a hideously, overly fancy style. Then again... he had always thought himself a tool, a weapon for his Empire and Church to wield at their discretion. Being used was his purpose.

Whoever the ‘Blind Phoenix’ was, they’d made some very good points. But it didn’t sit well with Hounding, how much this stranger knew about him. A growl rumbled in his chest as he looked back down at the letter.

After a long moment, he tipped his Faygo back and drained it, before he got to his feet. Picking up the letter, he tossed it into the waste trap before he stepped outside.

As he did so, Ashhur was coming up from one of his laps around the track. Noticing Hounding, he changed course and jogged up to him, his chest heaving for breath. The mutant put his hands behind his head, his gills flapping as he took deep inhales, his curly hair drenched with sweat.

“.. ...     ... --- -- . - .... .. -. --.     - .... .     -- .- - - . .-. --··--     -- .- ... - . .-.     ..- .-. ..-. .- - .... ··--··*“ He clicked. *(Is something the matter, Master Urfath?)

Hounding looked down at his charge for a long minute, before he smiled. “AiN’T NoTHiN’ wroNg, CUllbaiT. I goT a job for yoU.”