The End of The Pirouette (Traveling)

[Gamzee Makara]

Continued from Making a Move

And proceeds to land right on his face in a wonderful display of somersaults and physics. Though the landing is soft, as the ground beneath him was composed of lush, green grass, it still kinda hurt like a bitch. Gamzee comically skid a few feet forward on his face, legs in the air, until coming to a slow stop. He groans, unmoving for a moment as his legs stay splayed in the air. His legs fall to the ground in a few more moments, and his body lays still. Eventually, he sighs, and pushes himself up to a sitting position, stretching one leg out, and resting an arm on the other knee. He takes a moment to examine his surroundings and ho-lee hell. Miracles, all around. Trees, huge giant trees, whose wood is brown as coffee beans, and leaves as emerald as....emerald. The grass was also brilliant shade of wonderful green, but then again, he got a pretty close up view of the grass. There was a lake about thirty or forty yards ahead of him, fog rolling lazily off the banks, a full, blindingly white moon reflecting on the surface and-

Eh? A moon? It's night time? Well, damn. That's news to him. Of course, there was no way for him to tell in that empty, voidless sea of white called The Nexus. Ah well. No harm in all that. In fact, Gamzee was much more of a night-time guy. Nothing good ever happened after midnight, and that's just the way he liked it. But man. all this grass, and all these trees. He ain't never SEEN so much motherfucking green, vibrant life.

Except the slime. But in hue only. That shit ain't life, not by no stretch of the word.

Shoving that dark, dank, slimy thought from his head, he slaps his cheeks and carefully cracks his neck. Awright. Time to get to exploring this new, wickedly green regi-

With an inarticulate scream, something, or rather, someone clocks the sitting troll on the back of his head. Hard.

"Ow! Motherfucker!"

Shit! He knew miracles came out of nowhere, but they shouldn't be all up and hurting like that! He viciously shakes his head back and forth, literally shaking it off, and rolls forward, away from his assailant.

MOTHERFUCK THAT STUNG!

"Hnnng... Motherfucker!"

He puts his hands to the back of his head, nursing the blow, and tries to face his attacker. And as he turns around, catches another wooden club to the face.

"Nyahahaha!" A rather ugly goblin, green in hue just like the vegetation that surrounds them, stands in front of Gamzee, his weapon sunk into the troll's face. Behind the goblin loom two orcs of a darker shade of green carrying lit torches, both letting loose deep, rumbling laughs with their diminutive companion. That is, until, Gamzee latches onto the handle of his attacker's club, which is little more than a chunk of a tree trunk. The teenaged troll's unnatural steel grip slowly pushes the club away from his face, where it had left some dirt on his forehead. But that's not all it gave him; a small smile, innocent in origin, was plastered upon the clown's lips. The goblin stopped laughing. With a look of determination and slight rage, the unimposing creature tries to force his weapon back into his would-be victim's face.

Gamzee wasn't having that shit.

"Wow. Wooooow."

He lets loose a low whistle.

"You motherfuckers ain't got NO kinds of manners. What kinda hosts all up and try to beat the motherfuck out of their guest? C'mon. I know you guys are great guys. Ain't no sense in that."

The irony in this is that would a troll walk uninvited into another troll's home on Alternia, the intruder would've gotten much worse than a club to the back of the skull. Gamzee has such a height that he can lift the goblin a couple of inches of the ground by his club. He pulls his attacker in for a closer look.

"Hrrmmm... Ya'll are some ugly motherfuckers, ya know that? I mean damn. I mighta actually letcha walk off you know, no sweat no foul or no pain or whatever the hell, but I mean this is just..."

Gamzee's eyes briefly flash with a strange ugly orange tint, before returning to their average yellow. His mind; its clear for about half a second, clear of his laziness, clear of his humor and his laid-back attitude. Clear.

"Unforgivable."

Gamzee didn't even know he knew that word. And, without any more words he didn't know, the young, obviously rustled troll threw the club into the lake behind him, goblin and all. With a satisfying splash accompanying the moment, the unassuming troll gives the awestruck orcs a charming, if stupid grin before equipping his Deuce Clubs. The young, teenaged troll was an expert with these colorful juggling pins, in more ways than one. He spins the one in his right hand off his palm, before catching it by the neck again.

"Come one, come all, to the greatest show on earth. Step right up, step right up. Be amazed as I, Gamzee the Tragic Clown, beat the living shit out of you."