[log] Noisy Black, Part One [closed]

[snowblindmods]

Characters: anyone who signed up for the Noisy Black event
Location: an office building
Date: Morning and Day 260
Summary: You wake up in a room.
Warnings: nothing of note for this part, please note any specific things that happen in the comment sections of your posts

Sinners Top Level
Converted Top Level

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[quadrangle]

[Motherfucker. Karkat wishes he could—something, maybe shoosh him since he can't actually reach him, but fuck this public setting, he's so incredibly over it. Quick, what's something hatefriendly he can say instead? Uh—]

Try going from six legs to two.

[That... probably works? Except he can't quite must the tone for it; it should place closer to "that's it, he's a moron" than "oh fuck oh shit oh fuck" on his sliding scale of frantic concern to outright derision, and he's definitely screwed that one up. He has to try again and hope no one noticed, and hastily, he continues.]

Maybe that's the problem, though? Not the number of legs, fuck that, but you could be overthinking it. Instincts are supposed to just take over when you need them, so maybe you're trying too hard?

[mrcreamsicles]

Dude, if it were as easy as not trying too hard, then I would have gotten it right the first time. I'm literally telling you I haven't had to rely on this sense this way for three years. I had a tail instead of two separate legs, and it didn't have anything to do with the way I floated.

[There's a prickly edge running along his tone, but the greater frustration shows in his brows pressing down over his eyes.]

[quadrangle]

[He's starting to wish he'd asked Royce if there was a hand signal for "chill the fuck out," but at least that irritation is making it easier to respond in kind.]

Look, I don't know how mammals conduct their wild herd business, okay? Or what it's like being a sprite for three fucking years, as you've pointed out. Maybe some other Karkat got to float down that merry path of life, but guess what? I'm not him.

[Which is honestly a weird thought, now that it occurs to him, but he'll have to pick it apart later. Asking Davesprite if he really is okay will also have to wait or not happen at all; his mouth hasn't flattened yet into that telling line, but holy shit, he's never seen his eyebrows do that before. Stupid shades.]

Fuck it, you're fine. We'll figure out a safer way for you to practice when we get out of here.

[mrcreamsicles]

[His eyes narrow. Wild herd business? What? But the rest prickles him further.]

I've got advice from other people. I'll handle it.

[He turns away to shuffle along the wall, two hands to it, to the back of his cell. He doesn't want to talk about it anymore here and now.]

[The thing is, he does feel like it should be easier. He walked around on two legs until the end of his first timeline, and he was literally trained for most of that to be fast and agile with his movements. He still has that training at the back of his mind, but the specifics of how to coordinate it all have fallen by the wayside when using these limbs and holding himself up on them has been irrelevant for so long. It's not even a wrong description he's given Karkat. But it's hard not to look down at his stupid legs and be mad that he can't run, jump, or anything more than a wobbly shuffle without spilling himself across the floor. And how is he supposed to enjoy any of this whatsoever when he's going to go back his sprite body in however many days and he's stuck here, waiting for something inevitably terrible to go down? Maybe he'd be sitting down to have a long, hard think about his identity without all this, but even that round of exhausting thought would be a luxury next to this.]

[quadrangle]

[Mammals produce milk and the only other animal he can think off offhand that does that is musclebeasts, okay? And they move in herds. It makes perfect sense.]

[He'd seen Davesprite's shutdown coming a mile off though, and with House right there, he's helpless to do anything about it but watch, his hands tightening around the bars. He should have left the whole thing alone, but maybe he's destined to keep fucking up where everything to do with this loss is concerned. He fundamentally doesn't get it, try as he might, and maybe the differences in their mindsets when it comes to this are irreconcilable after all. Or he's just a fucking moron; either seems likely.]

[He opens his mouth, closes it, then pushes away from the bars with what he wishes was enough force to rattle them, turning and stalking back to the corner of his cell right after. He can't fucking deal with this right now, not if he doesn't want to fuck things up between them entirely. It'll have to wait.]