Your name is KARKAT VANTAS. You are a SIXTEEN YEAR OLD who used to be a mental patient at the ALTERNIA HOSPITAL. You suffer from INTERMITTENT EXPLOSIVE DISORDER, and you HALLUCINATE JUST A LITTLE BIT, but you blame it on the medication you swear you don't need.
You now live with your adoptive father and best bro, GAMZEE MAKARA.

((A little something based on an AU I mused, which you can see here.))

how are you? it’s been a while since we’ve last spoke? o:
I’M OKAY, I GUESS. HOW’RE YOU?

"kaaaaaaaaaaaaaarkaaaaaaaat!!! C: hi!!"
shouted by windyboss

HI JOHN.


capelladecapris:

You just hold his hand back and follow him, swinging back to a more chill state now that you aren’t alone with your darker thoughts. You’ve lived around these swamplands for a few years now, so, even though you have a terrible sense of direction, the various creatures and sounds are familiar enough, especially the snakes. Snakes hold a dear place in your heart as they are revered in Voodoo, so you don’t worry about them in the least.

You follow Karkat for some time, just distracting yourself from your gnawing headache and sour mood. You have to wonder how your brother found you or even knew where to look. More miracles in action, you suppose.

You’re dead set in your mind that this is the right direction. You passed that mucky puddle on the way here, right?

…Okay, so you weren’t entirely sure. But you’re not acknowledging that fact. Instead you keep on in that direction, and you’re now entirely sure there’s something wiggling about in your shoe. It’s got you walking just slightly funny, and the swamp water sloshing in there as well doesn’t help. You finally decide a question to Gamzee, since he probably knows the area as a whole much, much better, would be relatively harmless. “ANY OF THIS LOOKING FAMILIAR?” 

(Source: intermittentexplosivekarkles)


capelladecapris:

You aren’t sure where you two are at all, so you trust when he says that he’s pretty sure where you came from. After all, what possible reason could you have against the notion that Karkat at least knows where he came from? You nod a bit and give a lax smile before pocking the bottle, not worried about it being uncomfortable.

“aLrIgHt My MaN, yOu LeAd ThE wAy To A rIvEr FoR tHiS hOrSe MoThErFuCkEr AnD wE cAn DrInK aLl SoRtS oF wIcKeD eLiXiR wHeN wE gEt OuRsElVeS tHeRe.”

You purse your lips and huff through your nose, nodding in the direction you pointed. You could at least tell yourself it’s the right direction, if anything. You grab his hand and head in the direction, because like hell were you risking the two of you being separated in this damn swamp. Especially after Gamzee mentioned gang members, and the fact that every time you hear a splash away from you, you assume some snake wants to reenact the movie Anaconda. Granted, Gamzee could probably take care of himself, and he’s lived here for a while you’d assume, but you’re relatively tiny and probably wouldn’t stand a chance. You’re never voicing that, though.

(Source: intermittentexplosivekarkles)


capelladecapris:

Your face brightens up considerably at the offering of Faygo, no matter how much was in it. It’s not the same as the comfort brought to you from your magical cure all, but it still has a little bit of happiness-making miracles inside. You take it and finish it off in several gulps, savoring each fizzy sip. Once you finish it, you pocket the poisonous plant and smile at Karkat.

“oF cOuRsE bRo, We CaN gO hOmE aNy MoThErFuCkIn TiMe We WaNt. We JuSt GoTtA gEt OuR fIgUrE oUt On AbOuT wHeRe HoMe Is BeIn At. Do YoU kNoW, bRo?” You just keep on smiling at him, honestly expecting him to know. After all, when hasn’t Karkat known better than you? Not very often, that’s when. At least, as far as you’re concerned, Karkat has always shown that he knows better than you do, even if he’s all wound up like a spring more than he probably should be.

You rub your upper arm as he drinks, glancing around. You were already trying to figure which way you came from, since Gamzee grabbing you left you discombobulated. You’re pretty sure you have the right direction by the time he asks if you know the way, and you chew your lips and hesitantly point. “I’M PRETTY SURE I CAME FROM THAT WAY.” Or, was it that way? Fuck. You were stupid enough to not throw on a jacket, so the bugs already had a field day with your uncovered arms and neck. You supposed if you did the same thing you did to find him, which was essentially just picking a direction and going until the swamp ended, you’d find your way out. At least, you hope.

(Source: intermittentexplosivekarkles)


capelladecapris:

You relax even more and let go of him, giving the younger male a wiry smile. You actually didn’t think that anyone would come look for you. No one ever came looking for you. At least not that you could really remember, so it’s a nice feeling. You pet his head again, in a more friendly way this time, and tilt your head to the side a bit.

“lOoKiN fOr Me, MaRiAbRo? ThAnKs My MaN, iT’s BeIn NiCe ThAt SoMe MoThErFuCkErS gOt ThEiR cArE oN aBoUt Me,” you say, then you shrug your shoulders a bit. “I wAs AlL oUt LoOkiN fOr SoMe MoThErFuCkIn JiMsOn WeEd SiNcE i’M aLl OuT oF cUrE aLl InGrEdIeNtS.” You frown a bit, but then start smiling again, pulling out some plants out from your pocket. You have the Jimson weed, just not the honey or sulfur or glass vial with you, so you can’t make your cure all. It doesn’t remotely occur to you that your headache and all would be fixed just from the plants in your hand without all that other stuff.

His cure all, right. When he lets you go you turn to face him, still breathing heavy. Normally, you’d call his cure all cat piss with voodoo shit thrown on it, but now is a bad time. You let out a sigh, not too noticeable with the rest of your heavy breaths; running a hand over your face.

"THAT’S IT, RIGHT? SO WE CAN GO HOME?" You look hopeful, because all you want to do is get home and shower. Honestly, though, you’re not completely sure how to get out of the swamp. But you ran straight, so you should just have to go straight in the opposite direction, right? 

You remember the bottle you pocketed, as it’s pressing uncomfortably on your leg. You remove it and offer it to Gamzee.

(Source: intermittentexplosivekarkles)


capelladecapris:

intermittentexplosivekarkles:

You’re getting sick of swamp really quickly. You’ve only been making stops for about two or three seconds to check your surroundings other than just running all over the place. The swamp water makes your shoes squelch uncomfortably when you stepped on the fractions of semi-dry land. Of course, that just means the water doesn’t cover your feet. Your pants are completely soaked, the running making every bit of water splash up around you. And you’re pretty sure a bug is making a nest in your ear, and every other bug thinks you’re delicious. There’s something moving in your shoe, too, you think. But after seeing what you’re pretty sure was a snake you were not removing your shoes.

You’re breathing heavy, and you’re on the verge of taking a breather. God damn your legs for being so short. If you were to stop right then, you’d probably realized you’re lost and have no idea which way is which in this swamp. Coming out here was probably stupid. Before you can stop and reprimand yourself, something’s grabbed you at the waist and then the throat, and you practically screech as your life flashes before your eyes.

…Wow, what a shitty movie.

Your main instinct is to flail like a fish that got punched out of the water and onto a skillet, but you have a feeling that might make the situation worse oh okay you’re already flailing.

You make a low growl in your throat and increase how hard you’re holding onto the person, grabbing and pinning their arms against them and squeezing their throat warningly. You are in no mood to screw around with homeless forest inhabitants or stupid little punks in their gangs.

“StOp MoViN aRoUnD, mOtHeRfUcKeR. i SaId STOP.”

It’s around this moment that you realize something that makes you lax your grip. You’re holding onto Maria, who for some reason is out in the middle of the swamp at night. Either he’s up to something, completely lost, or you’re not that far from civilization. That also means that you’re losing your temper at your best bro for no reason other than you feel like something that the cat hacked up onto the carpet, and that sure isn’t cool at all.

You relax your grip even more and gently, hesitantly, pet his hair, frowning faintly.

“sHiT, sOrRy MaRiAbRo, I wAs ThInKiN yOu WeRe SoMe PuNk BrAt Or SoMeOnE uP tO nO gOoD aT hErE. mOtHeRfUcKeRs GoT tHeSe GaNgS aNd OtHeR tHiNgS tHaT tHeY aLl Up AnD tAkE a PaRt Of OuT iN tHe DeEp SwAmPlAnDs SoMeTiMeS.”

They restrict any movement with your arms, and it just makes you freak out more, because oh god you’re gonna die out here in the middle of some nasty swamp and no one will ever find your body. That is not where you wanted this day to go. You had to find-

Wait, there’s no way you couldn’t recognize that voice. You stop freaking out and open your eyes, which you never realized you closed, and try to look towards him.

"SHIT, GAMZEE. I’VE BEEN LOOKING FOR YOU." You let out a deep breathe and try to calm your pulse, because it’s loud and beating in your ears. He said something about gangs, and shit, this could have easily been someone other than Gamzee. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING OUT HERE?"


capelladecapris:

You are quite simply lost. This still isn’t a new occurrence for you since being lost is just what you tend to end up being, but this was a bit different from the usual if only because you don’t have any cure all on you. You feel terrible, sick and sore and kind of ticked off, and walking around all day and night has not improved your mood or how you feel. You’ve dealt with leeches and buzzing biting bugs and some kind of slithering beasts in the murky waters that you only caught glimpses of.

You walk around for a couple more miserable hours, having twigs stick in and snap under your feet. You took off your shoes and shoes quite some time ago, deciding they were too soggy for your own good. You know enough to know that stomping around in wet socks and shoes for hours can really hurt a brother’s feet in all kinds of bad ways. You wish you could remember the constellations better since you know that stars are little miracles that move all around the world and can point you in the right direction home.

You don’t know when it is, but you suddenly hear something out of the norm. Rustling and cracks in the swamp that haven’t been there. Your blood seems to heat up, heart beating faster. There’s something else here that shouldn’t be, the spirits all around are screaming to you about it. You shift into a more defensive position and sneak through the woods, looking for what the disturbance is. You catch sight of a shadow and you move. You snatch the person up around the waist and pull them closer, grabbing their throat. People being out here are more likely than not up to no good and you aren’t about to be caught unawares.

You’re getting sick of swamp really quickly. You’ve only been making stops for about two or three seconds to check your surroundings other than just running all over the place. The swamp water makes your shoes squelch uncomfortably when you stepped on the fractions of semi-dry land. Of course, that just means the water doesn’t cover your feet. Your pants are completely soaked, the running making every bit of water splash up around you. And you’re pretty sure a bug is making a nest in your ear, and every other bug thinks you’re delicious. There’s something moving in your shoe, too, you think. But after seeing what you’re pretty sure was a snake you were not removing your shoes.

You’re breathing heavy, and you’re on the verge of taking a breather. God damn your legs for being so short. If you were to stop right then, you’d probably realized you’re lost and have no idea which way is which in this swamp. Coming out here was probably stupid. Before you can stop and reprimand yourself, something’s grabbed you at the waist and then the throat, and you practically screech as your life flashes before your eyes.

…Wow, what a shitty movie.

Your main instinct is to flail like a fish that got punched out of the water and onto a skillet, but you have a feeling that might make the situation worse oh okay you’re already flailing.

(Source: intermittentexplosivekarkles)


((to the stoooore!

later.))


Oh wait. He never came back. He probably got sidetracked by something - but he’s been gone for a long time. At least the whole day, but you’re not sure if it’s longer. You fell asleep, and when you do manage that it’s usually for a long while. You’ve gone through two bottles of Faygo and decide you should at least try calling him. You groan and remove yourself from the couch, now numb to the horror happening on the TV screen. If you get away from it for a couple minutes you’ll end up scared shitless again, you’d bet. You get to the phone and dial Gamzee’s cell, not even getting a ring before it hits voicemail. That means it’s off or dead. Normally, you’d chalk this up to his normal self zoning out, and can already hear him honking with a “Oh ShIt, I gUeSs I fOrGoT tO cHaRgE iT!”, but… If he’s been gone so long, the inability to reach him is worrisome. You still don’t know the layout of Louisiana, but you’re pretty sure Gamzee could get lost in whatever’s out there.

You bite your lip and eye your medication. You can take it with you, in case you got lost too. If you even went. You’re still not too keen on the idea of going outside. But Gamzee could be hurt or something. You finally sigh and pocket a half-empty Faygo as well as your medication, and walk out the door.

You’re definitely confused as to where to go from here, so you just choose a direction and practically run.

「 ۵ 」