Fanwork 06
Aug. 19th, 2010 08:49 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sharknastyTitle: Favors of a Grim Persuasion
Pairing: None
Rating: PG-13
Warning: A Derse Pawn being beat to death. You tell me.
Summary: If a Pawn makes it to the other side of the board, it can throw a wrench in the most well thought out operation.
A/N: This was written before I found out all of Team Red was on Prospit. Just pretend he borrowed Derse!Sollux' pyjamas or something. And that he got there by magic. I don't really care.
Derse has plenty of alleys for him to hide in, that he is hiding in because Karkat told him to. His best friend said that there was a threat out there in the streets, someone under the Black Queen who had gotten suspicious of the Archagent and needed to be dealt with. Karkat even clarified himself for the clown troll’s sake, explained that by dealt with he meant beat to death in an alley. Gamzee was in the vicinity, floating calmly around the route that the Pawn was using to get to the Black Queen, so he was the one who had to run interference.
It was a simple matter of swooping down and tugging the Pawn up by his ridiculous clothing, dragging him into a dark crevice of the city with a hand over his mouth and an hand twisted into the fabric of his shirt. The Pawn struggled and kicked, twisting around and opening his mouth until it was wide enough to clap down hard on Gamzee’s hand. His teeth dug in, broke though tough skin and released a steady stream of indigo blood as the Pawn bit down harder and harder. When he jerked around a little more, he got a look at its captor’s face, a painted smile and a relaxed grin. There wasn’t even the slightest reaction to pain or the absence of it, and the Pawn wondered exactly what kind of monster had gotten a hold of him on his way to their Queen.
The little carapaced creature he’s holding hostage is hard to keep a grip on. It’s struggling and biting and fearful, and if he were a less chill dude, Gamzee would probably be more worried about it. As he is, the Capricorn troll just holds it by it's clothing, shifting into a headlock when he needs a better grip. When Gamzee gets into the alleyway, Pawn and all, the first thing he does is message Karkat. He pulls out the small purple grub-thing that serves as a portable computer and IMs him for further instructions because he spaced out and straight up fuckin' forgot the first ones.
----
terminallyCapricious [TC] began trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG]
tC: WhAt nOw, BeSt fRiEnD?
cG: STOP FUCKING CALLING ME THAT.
cG: AND ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? I JUST TOLD YOU WHAT TO DO FIVE MINUTES AGO.
tC: SoRrY BrO, i gUeSs i jUsT SpAcEd oUt aNd sHiT.
cG: JEGUS FUCKING…
cG: IT MUST BE DIFFICULT AS FUCK FOR YOU TO UNDERSTAND ANYTHING THAT ISN’T EAT SLIME, DRINK SWILL AND RAP FUCKING AWFULLY WITH NITRAM BUT FOR ONCE TRY TO PAY THE FUCK ATTENTION.
cG: WHAT I NEED YOU TO DO IS GRAB THAT STUPID AS FUCK CLUB OF YOURS AND BEAT THAT FUCKER LIKE IT’S AN EGG OR SOMETHING.
tC: ReAlLy? I MeAn He LoOkS LiKe a pReTtY OkAy dUdE. mAyBe wE CaN Be fRiEnDs.
cG: NO. NO FRIENDS.
cG: IT’S GOING TO RAT US OUT TO THE QUEEN AND FUCK UP EVERYTHING.
cG: JUST KILL THE THING AND SHOVE ITS BODY SOMEWHERE.
tC: AlRiGhT MaN, i’lL Be aLl uP In dOiNg tHaT CuZ ThAt’s wHaT FrIeNdS Do fOr eAcH OtHeR AnD ShIt.
cG: WHATEVER.
carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased trolling terminallyCapricious [TC]
----
The Pawn stopped struggling one he realized that the alien creature wasn’t paying attention to him. The boy-thing didn’t loosen his grip or pay any mind to the Pawn; he just leaned against the wall and ‘tik-tik-tik’ed on his little device, holding him firmly by the throat in the crook of one arm. The Pawn knew this boded ill for him by the way the shaggy clown boy’s goofy smile turned into a line across his face, and then a small barely-there frown. He put away his little device and switched it out for a large formidable looking club. When he saw the boy-thing grip it tightly and raise it up, The Pawn started his escape attempts again until the alien simply let him go.
Gamzee smiled at the little Derseian in a way that isn’t all there or threatening. He’d always liked the way these things looked, all hard and black and shiny. He pats it on the head, smearing indigo blood from his still bleeding bite mark across the Pawn’s shiny black shell. The Pawn looks up at him with wide eyes, confused at the sudden shift in behavior. That’s when he brings the club down on his head.
The Pawn raised his hands to defend itself, moving away from his attacker with stumbling steps when the club hits dead on. The first hit rattled the Derse native, he felt dizzy and before he could open his eyes again, the blunt instrument was brought down a second time. It cracked the shell of his cranium open and The Pawn can feel the cherry red of his blood slip down his face, down the side of his head and onto the floor. Around the third hit, he follows his blood down.
After that, the hits didn't stop and whenever he cracked an eye open between the blows, made pathetic attempts at grabbing for the weapon; he saw a painted smile and a sloppy grin though the red film of blood. His struggles became weaker as he lost more blood and the club crushed more organs; grasping attempts became swats at the air, which became feeble twitches of the hand. By the time Gamzee was done The Pawn's clothes and carapace were wet, sticky and slick with his own sweat and blood, with a hint of Gamzee’s own indigo. Before it finally lost consciousness, the Pawn could hear the thud of club hitting carapace ringing in his ears.
Gamzee doesn’t stop until there is a large pool of blood and the Derse Pawn is crushed into a mass of exoskeleton, blood and fabric. There is blood spattered across Sollux's borrowed pyjamas, soaking in and mixing with the bright purple. He stares at it for a good five minutes before deciding to text Karkat again. The juggalo drops his club into one of the cards on his sylladex and, after swaying on his feet and drawing bloody patterns on a wall, he manages to retrieve his Portable Grub again.
----
terminallyCapricious [TC] began trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG]
tC: HeY I DiD ThAt tHiNg yOu wAnTeD Me tO Be aLl uP In dOiNg.
cG: FINALLY! YOU’VE BEEN GONE FOR FUCKING EVER! WHAT WERE YOU DOING, HAVING TEA AND DISCUSSING THE SITUATION WITH IT?
tC: HaHaHa nO MaN I WaS JuSt hItTiNg iT WiTh mY ClUb uNtIl iT StOpPeD MoViNg aRoUnD AnD StUfF
tC: It wAs kInD Of wEiRd.
tC: Do yOu wAnT Me tO KeEp lIkE BeAtInG It? CuZ I CoUlD Do tHaT.
cG: GOG YOU ARE FUCKED UP.
cG: JUST GO BACK TO YOUR TOWER AND FUCKING STAY THERE, IDIOT.
tC: OkAy i gUeSs i’lL Be gOiNg tO Do tHaT ThEn bRo
terminallyCapricious [TC] ceased trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG]
----
He leaves the mass of gore behind him, stepping out of the alley as if it were completely normal to be a lanky stoner troll who just beat a small Pawn to death with club. Gamzee jumps and hangs in the air, staring into the darkness of the back street until he can see the pool of blood slowly expand into a lighter area of the pathway. Seemingly satisfied, Gamzee rockets off to his tower on one of the moons of Prospit with nearly no thoughts on his mind. He doesn’t think about what he just did or why he did it. Gamzee Makara isn’t one to question his friend’s demands. If Karkat wants him to do things like that, he does them, because Karkat is his best bro and that’s just what friends do for each other.
Pairing: None
Rating: PG-13
Warning: A Derse Pawn being beat to death. You tell me.
Summary: If a Pawn makes it to the other side of the board, it can throw a wrench in the most well thought out operation.
A/N: This was written before I found out all of Team Red was on Prospit. Just pretend he borrowed Derse!Sollux' pyjamas or something. And that he got there by magic. I don't really care.
Derse has plenty of alleys for him to hide in, that he is hiding in because Karkat told him to. His best friend said that there was a threat out there in the streets, someone under the Black Queen who had gotten suspicious of the Archagent and needed to be dealt with. Karkat even clarified himself for the clown troll’s sake, explained that by dealt with he meant beat to death in an alley. Gamzee was in the vicinity, floating calmly around the route that the Pawn was using to get to the Black Queen, so he was the one who had to run interference.
It was a simple matter of swooping down and tugging the Pawn up by his ridiculous clothing, dragging him into a dark crevice of the city with a hand over his mouth and an hand twisted into the fabric of his shirt. The Pawn struggled and kicked, twisting around and opening his mouth until it was wide enough to clap down hard on Gamzee’s hand. His teeth dug in, broke though tough skin and released a steady stream of indigo blood as the Pawn bit down harder and harder. When he jerked around a little more, he got a look at its captor’s face, a painted smile and a relaxed grin. There wasn’t even the slightest reaction to pain or the absence of it, and the Pawn wondered exactly what kind of monster had gotten a hold of him on his way to their Queen.
The little carapaced creature he’s holding hostage is hard to keep a grip on. It’s struggling and biting and fearful, and if he were a less chill dude, Gamzee would probably be more worried about it. As he is, the Capricorn troll just holds it by it's clothing, shifting into a headlock when he needs a better grip. When Gamzee gets into the alleyway, Pawn and all, the first thing he does is message Karkat. He pulls out the small purple grub-thing that serves as a portable computer and IMs him for further instructions because he spaced out and straight up fuckin' forgot the first ones.
----
terminallyCapricious [TC] began trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG]
tC: WhAt nOw, BeSt fRiEnD?
cG: STOP FUCKING CALLING ME THAT.
cG: AND ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? I JUST TOLD YOU WHAT TO DO FIVE MINUTES AGO.
tC: SoRrY BrO, i gUeSs i jUsT SpAcEd oUt aNd sHiT.
cG: JEGUS FUCKING…
cG: IT MUST BE DIFFICULT AS FUCK FOR YOU TO UNDERSTAND ANYTHING THAT ISN’T EAT SLIME, DRINK SWILL AND RAP FUCKING AWFULLY WITH NITRAM BUT FOR ONCE TRY TO PAY THE FUCK ATTENTION.
cG: WHAT I NEED YOU TO DO IS GRAB THAT STUPID AS FUCK CLUB OF YOURS AND BEAT THAT FUCKER LIKE IT’S AN EGG OR SOMETHING.
tC: ReAlLy? I MeAn He LoOkS LiKe a pReTtY OkAy dUdE. mAyBe wE CaN Be fRiEnDs.
cG: NO. NO FRIENDS.
cG: IT’S GOING TO RAT US OUT TO THE QUEEN AND FUCK UP EVERYTHING.
cG: JUST KILL THE THING AND SHOVE ITS BODY SOMEWHERE.
tC: AlRiGhT MaN, i’lL Be aLl uP In dOiNg tHaT CuZ ThAt’s wHaT FrIeNdS Do fOr eAcH OtHeR AnD ShIt.
cG: WHATEVER.
carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased trolling terminallyCapricious [TC]
----
The Pawn stopped struggling one he realized that the alien creature wasn’t paying attention to him. The boy-thing didn’t loosen his grip or pay any mind to the Pawn; he just leaned against the wall and ‘tik-tik-tik’ed on his little device, holding him firmly by the throat in the crook of one arm. The Pawn knew this boded ill for him by the way the shaggy clown boy’s goofy smile turned into a line across his face, and then a small barely-there frown. He put away his little device and switched it out for a large formidable looking club. When he saw the boy-thing grip it tightly and raise it up, The Pawn started his escape attempts again until the alien simply let him go.
Gamzee smiled at the little Derseian in a way that isn’t all there or threatening. He’d always liked the way these things looked, all hard and black and shiny. He pats it on the head, smearing indigo blood from his still bleeding bite mark across the Pawn’s shiny black shell. The Pawn looks up at him with wide eyes, confused at the sudden shift in behavior. That’s when he brings the club down on his head.
The Pawn raised his hands to defend itself, moving away from his attacker with stumbling steps when the club hits dead on. The first hit rattled the Derse native, he felt dizzy and before he could open his eyes again, the blunt instrument was brought down a second time. It cracked the shell of his cranium open and The Pawn can feel the cherry red of his blood slip down his face, down the side of his head and onto the floor. Around the third hit, he follows his blood down.
After that, the hits didn't stop and whenever he cracked an eye open between the blows, made pathetic attempts at grabbing for the weapon; he saw a painted smile and a sloppy grin though the red film of blood. His struggles became weaker as he lost more blood and the club crushed more organs; grasping attempts became swats at the air, which became feeble twitches of the hand. By the time Gamzee was done The Pawn's clothes and carapace were wet, sticky and slick with his own sweat and blood, with a hint of Gamzee’s own indigo. Before it finally lost consciousness, the Pawn could hear the thud of club hitting carapace ringing in his ears.
Gamzee doesn’t stop until there is a large pool of blood and the Derse Pawn is crushed into a mass of exoskeleton, blood and fabric. There is blood spattered across Sollux's borrowed pyjamas, soaking in and mixing with the bright purple. He stares at it for a good five minutes before deciding to text Karkat again. The juggalo drops his club into one of the cards on his sylladex and, after swaying on his feet and drawing bloody patterns on a wall, he manages to retrieve his Portable Grub again.
----
terminallyCapricious [TC] began trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG]
tC: HeY I DiD ThAt tHiNg yOu wAnTeD Me tO Be aLl uP In dOiNg.
cG: FINALLY! YOU’VE BEEN GONE FOR FUCKING EVER! WHAT WERE YOU DOING, HAVING TEA AND DISCUSSING THE SITUATION WITH IT?
tC: HaHaHa nO MaN I WaS JuSt hItTiNg iT WiTh mY ClUb uNtIl iT StOpPeD MoViNg aRoUnD AnD StUfF
tC: It wAs kInD Of wEiRd.
tC: Do yOu wAnT Me tO KeEp lIkE BeAtInG It? CuZ I CoUlD Do tHaT.
cG: GOG YOU ARE FUCKED UP.
cG: JUST GO BACK TO YOUR TOWER AND FUCKING STAY THERE, IDIOT.
tC: OkAy i gUeSs i’lL Be gOiNg tO Do tHaT ThEn bRo
terminallyCapricious [TC] ceased trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG]
----
He leaves the mass of gore behind him, stepping out of the alley as if it were completely normal to be a lanky stoner troll who just beat a small Pawn to death with club. Gamzee jumps and hangs in the air, staring into the darkness of the back street until he can see the pool of blood slowly expand into a lighter area of the pathway. Seemingly satisfied, Gamzee rockets off to his tower on one of the moons of Prospit with nearly no thoughts on his mind. He doesn’t think about what he just did or why he did it. Gamzee Makara isn’t one to question his friend’s demands. If Karkat wants him to do things like that, he does them, because Karkat is his best bro and that’s just what friends do for each other.
