Welcome to Ambrosia!

[Gamzee Makara]

Eventually, the dirt path gave way to cobblestone. The buildings were so hodgepodge, as if each one was of a different era or universe. Some fit together, as if they were of similar origin. Others, not so much.

Gamzee walks up to a random house, of a pale red paint design, and goes to knock as loudly as he can in the middle of the night. The stubby horned troll is a little late on the draw, and only barely manages to pull his tall friends arm away from the oaken door.

“What the fuck are you doing dumbass?!” Karkat hisses as quiet as he can. “It’s probably maybe like fucking one in the morning. Do you want to get kicked out of town?”

Before that rhetorical question could process in the violet-blood’s exhausted mind, his friend continues.

“Listen, lets go see if we can find somewhere legal to stay. Like a hotel, or an inn. Or a bench if it comes to that.”

And without another word, he grabs the high-blood’s arm and drags him down the street.

Eventually, they come across a building that is still surprisingly well lit, lanterns outside and all. A wooden sign swings from the second story. It’s too dark to read it, but they both assume it is the name of the establishment. Cautiously opening the wooden door, the young Vantas pokes his head through the door.

He’s a bit surprised with what he finds. A very homey tavern-type establishment. There are several strange creatures (one or two of them human) sitting around a round table. Other tables are scattered about in the cozy room, but this is the only one currently occupied. Gamzee’s head appears in the crack of the doorway above Karkat’s, showing the difference in height between the two. The duo of trolls tentatively step into the room, the taller of the two shutting the door behind them. The group at the table barely acknowledge their presence, and the Barkeep just nods in their direction before saying a few simple words.

“Welcome. Here to rent, or to drink and eat?”

He was addressing the both of them, but the low-blooded troll honestly was a bit at a loss for words. He had no money, no bearings, no knowledge of the town. He didn’t even know what the name of this establishment was.

It was Gamzee that spoke up. “We’d like a room my man. Something simple, just enough for me and my friend to stay the night.”

And that was that. The rest went by in a blur. Karkat witnessed a strange form of transaction that he didn’t fully understand. Gamzee wouldn’t give him any other answers than “Naw brother it’s just the miracles inside ya” and he felt it a faux pas to ask the barkeep what constituted as currency in this world. The barkeep, who still hadn’t given his name, showed the trolls up to their room. It was small. And wooden. Lots of wood. The floor was wooden, the bedframe was wooden, there was a wooden chair in the corner, and the bedside table was wooden. The mattress might’ve been wooden except for the fact that oh my god its actually kinda comfy. Gamzee flopped face first onto the bed, his long legs still hanging off and touching the floor. Karkat give him an incredulous look.

“Gamzee?”

Silence.

Karkat lightly kicks his fellow troll in the shin.

The clown begins to lightly snore. He fell asleep half-way off the friggen bed. The secondary troll sighs, and looks around the room. Not really much to it. There’s a nice sized window on the wall opposite the bed. Tilting his head, he walks up to it, and experimentally pushes on the glass. It opens. With a heave, the cherry-blooded troll vaults onto the shingled roof of the inn. He looks up, and begins to think. He thinks so hard, his head starts hurting again and damn he just wants to go back to his friends, and bring his dumb juggalo with him. But oh no, there’s no use crying about it now. The two trolls were going to survive the trials of this Universe and they WILL get back to their friends. He and Gamzee, together, are gonna be okay. He knows it. No room for doubt with this hard, crabby exterior. Karkat looks up into the sky, the thousands and thousands of stars illuminating the void to appear a brilliant midnight blue. Cue shooting star. Bam. There it is.

It’s gonna be rough, but he’s got Gamzee. And Gamzee has him.