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God fucking damn it.
After half a sweep of relentlessly running yourself in circles trying to beat this righteously forsaken game, here you are back at square one, with no possible points of progression.
Honestly, you're not sure how you didn't see this coming, a last-minute rug pull is exactly the type of irrevocable hogshit that would occur to you.
Still, it's utterly-fucking maddening. You had the Ultimate Reward in reach. Practically in the palm of your hand, and now?
Now you'll live out the rest of your days on a suffocatingly stuffy meteor surrounded by peers that drive you absolutely up-the-hive-wall and back.
Speaking of, you're too busy reveling in your own spite to notice the other troll who's made an entrance into your "block," (it's less of a block and more of an empty subsection you put a door on and claimed,) and is now pacefully making his way over to you.
You don’t notice the invasion of space until he sits next to you on the padded platform you're using in place of a recuperacoon.
CG: WHAT COULD YOU POSSIBLY WANT NOW.
TC: HeEeEy InVeRtAbRo. A mOtHeRfUcKeR jUsT wAnTeD tO uP aNd SeE hOw HiS nUmBeR oNe WaS hAnGiNg.
CG: HOW DO YOU FUCKING THINK.
TC: MiRtHfUl?
CG: GAMZEE. I'VE SPENT THE LAST SEVERAL PERIGEES COORDINATING A FROG-FUCKFEST, DEALT WITH THE INCESSANT WHINING OF PAN-DEFICIENT MORONS AND THE LITERAL GRUB REINCARNATES OF THEM, HAD TO JUMP THROUGH HOOPS WHILE PLAYING A GAME THAT'S CONSTANTLY TRYING TO KILL US, AND WHEN WE FINALLY COMPLETE OUR OBJECTIVES LONG ENOUGH TO PROGRESS TO THE ENDGAME, IT PRACTICALLY BLOWS UP IN OUR FACE AND FOREVER DISSIPATES. BUT SURE. YEAH. I'M FEELING "MIRTHFUL"
TC: RiGhTeOuS.
CG: ARE YOU JUST BIOLOGICALLY INCAPABLE OF WRAPPING YOUR THICK SKULL AROUND SARCASM.
TC: HaHaHaHa DiDn'T rEaLiZe A mOsT hUmOrOuS bRo WaS pUlLiNg My WaLkShAfTs. I aPpReCiAtE tHe MaNnEr To MaKe A mOtHeRfUcKeR cHuCkLe, BuT hIs BrOtHeR's ViBeS aRe NaStY iLl.
CG: FORGIVE ME FOR BEING A LITTLE GRIEVANCED WITH THE FACT THAT I'M GOING TO ROT ON SOME STUPID ROCK AND OUR SPECIES WILL DIE WITH ME.
TC: AwW bRo. DoN't GeT yOuR pAn In A tWiSt OvEr ThAt NoNsEnSe. ThE mEsSiAhS hAvE a PlAn FoR uS iN sToRe, I'm SuRe Of It.
TC: ThEy CoNfIdE iN tHe HoLiEsT oF sEcReTs TiLl ThEy'Re PrEsEnTeD wItH tHe MoSt MiRaCuLoUs OpPoRtUnItY. tHaT wAy WhEn ThEy ReVeAl ThEiR tRiCkS, iT bLoWs A mOtHeRfUcKeR's SoCkS oFf.
TC: If It PlEaSeS a BeSt FrIeNd, We CaN tAkE tHiS bLeSsEd MoMeNt To ShArE a PrAyEr.
TC: CaN't KeEp ThE mEsSiAhS tOo HuMbLe.
CG: ABSOLUTELY NOT. I REFUSE TO PUBLICLY EMBARRASS MYSELF LIKE THAT.
TC: AwW c'MoN. tAkE a MoMeNt To GeT aLl In GoOd SpIrItS aNd ShArE tHe GrAtItUdE wItH tHe SaInTlIeSt Of BiTcHeS.
CG: I'M NOT PRAYING TO YOUR FALSE IDOLS.
TC: DoNt Be SuCh A mOtHeRfUcKiN' hEaThEn. YoU gOtTa OpEn YoUr OcUlArS tO tHe EnLiGhTeNmEnT oF tHe TrUtH.
CG: FUCKING HELL.
CG: LOOK, IF I INDULGE YOU THIS ONE TIME WILL YOU CEASE YOUR NEVER ENDING ATTEMPTS TO INDOCTRICARE ME INTO YOUR FREAKY CLOWN CULT.
TC: WhAtEvEr FlOaTs A mOfOs BoAt. Id LoVe To SeRvE uP sOmE sIcK sAlVaTiOn FoR a BeSt InVeRtAbRo, EvEn JuSt OnCe.
CG: GREAT. FINE. IM ASSUMING THAT'S THE CLOSEST THING I'LL RECEIVE FOR A CONFIRMATION.
TC: HaHaHaHa LeTs GeT yOuR wIcKeDeSt ReDeMpTiOn On BrOtHeR.
You slouch back as Gamzee takes your left hand, clasping it between his. He makes uncomfortable eye contact, the type that's entirely out of character. You're half sure he spaced out on you until you realize he's waiting for you to say something.
CG:
TC:
CG: WAIT, YOU WANT ME TO DO IT?
TC: Of CoUrSe. If A mOtHeRfUcKeRs WaNtS hIs AiLiNg InJuStIcEs To Be HeArD, iT's GoTtA bE tOlD fRoM hIm.
CG: WHAT THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO SAY?
TC: WhAtEvEr FeElS tRuE tO tHe SoUl. LeT iT sPiLl FrOm ThE mOsT nAtUrAl UrGeS wItHiN.
CG: I DONT KNOW WHAT THAT FUCKING MEANS, BUT WHATEVER.
TC: DoN't OvErTuRn It In YoUr PaN, bRo.
You glance upwards, trying to formulate something that's appropriate. Holy shit this is embarrassingly awkward. You think you'll roll in your coon thinking about this one. Maybe even your grave.
CG: OKAY. UH. TO WHATEVER MENTALLY FUCKED AND PROBABLY NON-EXISTENT DEITIES THAT ARE SOMEWHERE DEEP IN PARADOX SPACE. I OFFER YOU A COLOSSAL "FUCK" WITH A HEAPING PILE OF "YOU" ON THE SIDE.
TC: HaHaHa ThAt AiNt-
CG: I'M NOT FINISHED.
CG: FUCK YOU FOR MAKING MY ENTIRE EXISTENCE THE EMBODIMENT OF A COSMIC JOKE ON MY PART. I HOPE YOU'RE GETTING A SICK FUCKING CHUCKLE OUT OF IT.
CG: I'M SO ENTIRELY INDUBITABLY GRACIOUS THAT AT THE END OF THE DAY, MY LIFE AS A WHOLE WILL BE NOTHING MORE THAN A PATHETIC PUNCHLINE TO THOSE AROUND ME.
CG: BUT HEY, AT LEAST YOU'RE GETTING A KICK OUT OF IT. IF YOU'RE OUT THERE, THAT IS.
CG: AT LEAST I CAN WITHER AWAY HOPING THE FREAKFEST OF MY LIFE SERVED AMUSEMENT TO A GREATER PURPOSE.
TC: AmEn To ThAt BrOtHeR.
TC: mAy ThE mEsSiAhS sEe YoU wItH jOy AnD lAuGhTeR iN tHeIr HeArTs.
Before you see it coming, Gamzee casts a handful of glitter into your oculars.
You double over on instinct, grasping at your face in pain.
CG: AUUGGHHH!!!! WHAT IN THE CIRCUS-DWELLING HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?????
TC: I'm JuSt ShArInG tHe MiRtH, gOoD bRoThEr.
CG: BY STUNTING MY VISION? I'M NOT LOOKING TO BECOME THE NEXT PYROPE, IDIOT!
TC: ReLaX bRo, YoU aIn’T gOnNa Go BlInD. s'JuSt ThE fEeLiNg Of ThE mEsSiAhS eNtErInG yOuR bEiNg.
If that's true, the Messiahs feel like inserting needles into your bulge. You'd almost rather claw out your own oculars right about now. But you've wiped enough glitter from your face that you're starting to regain your sight.
CG: HOLY EXPEDITIOUS FUCK. IF YOU EVER DO THAT AGAIN I WILL PERSONALLY SEE TO IT THAT YOU'LL BE SENT STRAIGHT TO YOUR PRECIOUS MESSIAH IN AN INSTANT. I WILL CULL YOU.
TC: YoU mEaN sMeLl To It?
You search with your hands to identify what part of the gray blob in front of you are his shoulders. Once you've found them, you grasp tightly and pull him forward.
CG: DO NOT BE A SMARTASS WITH ME RIGHT NOW. I'M NOT FUCKING AROUND RIGHT NOW.
TC: AlRiGhT aLrIgHt. YoU hAvE mY fUlLeSt VoW. i AiN't GoNnA dO iT aGaIn.
Gamzee pats your hands, before taking them off his shoulder so he can sit back up. At least now you can identify his facial features again, and the searing pain has faded into a constant sting.
TC: AnD kArBrO? dOn'T wOrRy YoUr DiViNe NuBs OvEr ThAt AlTeRnAtE rEwArD sHiT. wE'rE gOnNa Be JuSt FiNe OuT hErE.
TC: eVeN iF tHe MeSsIaH dOn'T bLeSs Us WiTh ThEiR gOoDwIlL, lEaSt We GoT tHe HiGhEsT oF sPiRiTs AnD tHe MoSt CoNsEcRaTeD oF fRiEnDs.
TC: I gOt A wIcKeD fEeLiNg ItS aLlLlL gOnNa WoRk OuT mOtHeRfUcKiN' pEaChY.
Somehow, you doubt that.