Spreading a Little Terror | First level, west side or second level

[makaracles]

[Even the most stable of people couldn't be expected to handle what Gamzee's had to deal with for the past few weeks and come out of it calm and sane, and Gamzee has never been really anchored in reality as it is. A few days of being chased by wraiths, finding out he'd attacked his moirail and hurt him badly, and then a week of being terrorized by

Comments

First level because Asato still doesn't get the second level at allll

[walksonrooftops]

[The ribika is just trotting down the street as night falls, equally comfortable in the dark as he is in the light of daytime. Out of instinct and respect for the strict rules of his village still engraved in his brain, he hides his presence, stifling his energy, calming his thoughts, silencing and softening his footsteps. He moves through the streets like a ghost now, though he doesn't even realize he's doing it

[makaracles]

[The tall troll's head snaps toward the voice, his head cocking to one side as he sees the other male emerge from the shadows. His lips spread in a wide, toothy grin that is not even a little bit friendly or sweet.]

We're nocturnal, motherfucker. [His voice is soft, and he croons the words out, spinning a juggling club between his fingers before reaching out to pluck a strawberry from the bag.]

[walksonrooftops]

Ah.

[That grin makes him nervous. He can definitely tell something's amiss.]

Gamzee looks a little sick. Is there something upsetting him?

[makaracles]

[The berry's gone in one bite, and Gamzee licks the red juice from his lips.] Sick? Siiiiick ... what all do you mean by that? Maybe it's you what's getting their motherfuckin' illness on. YOU NEED A MOTHERFUCKIN' PHYSICIAN!

[The last is barked, with a loud honking laugh, and then Gamzee does a thing ... hell, he's not even sure he knows how he's doing it, but he reaches out for the ribika's mind and-

Asato might be feeling a little funny himself now. A little warm. Like there's something wrong with his blood, as though it's heating up somehow, fizzing and popping with a dark need to change.]

[walksonrooftops]

I just thought you--

[He backs off when Gamzee shouts at him, ears perking up before laying low.]

I hope nothing's wrong. Gamzee just looks a little strange, you know? I don't mean anything bad by it...

[He laughs nervously, but his laugh trails to silence very soon. He feels a little feverish, a little nervous and more than a little angry. And hungry. So very hungry.

Something tugs at his brain then, something telling him that the solution is very simple. Rend. Tear. Kill. Feed.
He furrows his brows and coughs, taking a step back.]

[makaracles]

Something wrong, motherfucker? [Croons in a sing-song voice, taking a step forward as Asato goes back.] Something bad~ ? You look ... different.

[walksonrooftops]

No, I just...[He huffs, and the sound comes out as an almost throaty growl. For some reason he can't keep himself from salivating; it beads at the corner of his mouth and trickles down his chin.]

Something feels--bad, and-- [He groans and clutches his head when his vision tints red for a moment.]

[makaracles]

[Oh, now that's an interesting reaction to fear ... Gamzee stalks forward, bending a little to peer at the ribika, puzzled by the weird clear stuff coming out of his mouth. Where's the color?]

What feels bad? [asks in a soft, soft whisper, reaching out to lightly run his claws through Asato's hair as he twists again, wanting to hear the other male scream, howl, cry, anything, wanting to feel in control for just a few moments, wanting the hole to be gone, wanting to PUNISH MOTHERFUCKERS WHO DON'T RESPECT.]

[walksonrooftops]

My...my head...

[He gives him a look that borders on pleading. Help me. Dear goddess it's happening, it's coming, it's here, they were right after all--he's so ravenous and goddess above someone please just help.

He sees teeth, like he's seen them before even when taking water from the river as a toddler, enormous sharp teeth and glistening tusks in a skull-like face, bright blue, glassy eyes glinting in deep-set sockets. It comes in flashes. It tears into people he thought he knew, he thinks. The cries come too sharply for him to really know who or what, but his mind fills in the blanks whether he wants it to or not, and when it flickers over the thought of his own mother, his expression goes blank, pupils drawn to slits.]

[makaracles]

[Gamzee leans over the smaller male, drinking in that expression greedily, and runs the tip of a claw along the line of Asato's jaw, grinning toothily.]

What's all up in your head, bro? [croons] You got a monster all tastywarm curled up inside your nugbone, don't you?

[walksonrooftops]

[he hisses at Gamzee, ears folded back.] You're wrong!
[But he isn't, and they both know it. How can he claim it isn't there when he can practically feel it yanking at its fetters now, snarling and twisting and so ready to be freed?] How do you know this? Why are you--Gamzee--[His breathing comes in wet, ragged gasps.]

[makaracles]

[But the troll doesn't answer, just presses one fingertip to the center of Asato's forehead.] Is it ... coming ... out?

[walksonrooftops]

[The sentient light in his eyes seems to dim. He tries to will it not to; he tries to think of nice things, of sweet fruit and playing in the mud with the other kids for just a little while and of his mother kissing him better when he skinned his little knee. But it's a losing battle he's fighting.]

Shut up. [he glares at him, fangs exposed.] Shut up. Shut up.

[makaracles]

[grins, his own fangs on display] I don't think that all's going to help much. Is it~ ? [singsongs] What happens? When it comes out?

[walksonrooftops]

Shut up!

[He doesn't know what'll happen. That's the frightening part. He doesn't know if his mind will change, or his body will change, nor does he have any clue if he can ever go back.

It takes just that outburst for his control to lapse. His left hand swipes at the troll's face, claws drawn and dangerously sharp. He snarls, his fur standing on end, his body arched threateningly.]

[makaracles]

[Gamzee jerks his head back, but not in time to avoid catching the claws on his shoulder, ripping through cloth and skin. It hurts, but the clown can't help but laugh anyway, delighted. He snakes out a long fingered hand to grab Asato's wrist, jerking him in closer so the two are nose to nose.]

Is it starting? [he murmurs, his breath blowing arid and impossibly hot, like a desert wind whispering against the ribika's face]