Colosseum - Spectator Thread

[Gamzee Makara]

Gamzee can breathe alright. I mean, it doesn't really look that way because of the hole in his stomach, but he can. S’nothing serious. I mean, his shouty friend keeps nagging and shouting and fretting, but it’s totally fine. Everything is fine.

It is Karkat’s firm belief that everything is not fine. Gamzee fucking lost. Yeah, he’s still alive. That’s fucking fantastic. But Jesus, he’s hurt and he won’t go see or talk to any of the medics. Both Karkat and several different administers of the healing arts strongly advised medical attention, but the clown would not have it. It’s not even a pride thing, which would almost be somewhat understandable. He is literally attempting to shrug off a fucking stab/explosion/lightning/combustion wound.

“Gotta watch and support my best human bro, bro.”

Karkat fully blames Adam.

This idiocy is precisely why they are making their way through the stands at this very moment. The crabby cancer is leading a stumbling Gamzee by the hand towards a pair of white fluffy ears easily visible in the crowd, leaving an overpowering aroma of grape soda as they go. The clown does his best not to drip blood on anyone’s clothes or feet or anything. As they reach the owner of the furry dog ears, the non-injured troll places a hand on her shoulder.

“Jade, my god, It’s a fucking mess trying to get around in this place. I-” Karkat is abruptly cut off. A rather, er, well endowed female dog morph whose fur is white as snow turns around to face him. That is not Jade.

“O-oh shit! I’m so sorry uh, ma’am,” The dog girl hides a giggle with her hand, causing a tidal wave of crimson to flood the alien teen’s cheeks. “C’mon G-Gamzee.”

The fool, for all his credit, is busy trying not to stain the woman’s beautiful fur with his violet life-blood.

Moving a respectable distance away from the girl mistaken for Jade, the Low-Blood scans the stands, searching for another pair of fluffy white ears. His ruby eyes lock onto a hooded figure with such ears sprouting out of the fabric. That’s GOT to be her. He begins an indignant march in her direction, duly noting the other space-garbed asshole next to her. A SBURB player. The teen tries to keep his eye from twitching.

Sonofabitch, I swear to god if this is another murder-crazy psychopath, I’m going to be officially done with this stupid universe.

The Low-Blood and his High-Blood companion gingerly take seats close to Jade, Karkat sitting in front of her, as both adjacent seats are now preoccupied. He doesn't exactly know why, but that bothers him a little bit. Let’s try this again.

“There you are Jade! My god, It’s a fucking mess trying to get around in this place. And I don’t mean the blood,” He pauses to lean over and stare at the creepy little shit on the other side of Jade only to say rather bluntly, “Who’s this creepy little shit?”

No filter on this guy. For now, he ignores the dude with the fruity color-scheme. He thinks that maybe that guy was in the tournament? He's not sure, he was too busy worrying and fretting over Gamzee's imminent death. Karkat has had too many encounters with fruity assholes. Besides, the space player looks marginally more creepy and possibly dangerous. It's just best not to divide his attention in too many places, shit gets confusing.

“Honk,” The bard murmurs as he lays his head against his buddy’s shoulder.

Everything still hurts.

Smells like Grape Faygo.