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@capriciousnightmares-blog
Circustry - A playlist to the theme of Gamzee Makara in Aperture Laboratories.
Sacrificial ● Below ● Purple Bard ● Taxi (Ave Maria) ● Supermarket Sweep ● The Pantheon ● Dopamin ● The God Machine ● Subjugation ● The Shard ● The 2nd Law: Isolated System ● The Beginning Is The End Is The Beginning ● Android Porn
Listen | Download
Wet Paint
Oh? Have you now? I’ll be sure to stay alert for the coming showcase. Now…Should I look for colors or corpses? Ah ha ha ha~
GUESS WE'LL JUST HAVE TO BE SEEING NOW WON'T WE.
surprise for all brothers round.
capriciousnightmares replied to your post
:o?
Elated to see you as well, Payaso, as always.
heh.
BY THE MOTHERFUCKING WAY.
been getting my works on to a thing.
BEST BE KEEPING YOU EYES OUT AS TO SUCH FUTURE POTENTIALITIES IN WAYS OF GIFTS.
Color Theory
everyone’s my favourite merchants B)
Beautiful Accidents
Artist Giveaway!
Scan-100116-0001 (by sketchblog)
remember when i drew a gamzee
Obligatory what-do-you-mean-the-updates-weren’t-about-Gamzee update art.
Oooh, aggressive.
This would be fun.
"You are currently standing in the safety of the Aperture Science Enrichment Center’s former lobby, protected from the apocalyptic environment waiting beyond the unfortunately eroded walls and overtaking plant life," the AI calmly informed her new guest, pausing for a beat before adding with some degree of smugness, "Earth, if that helps to narrow it down." Her knowledge of his other-worldly race and roots was worth risking an allusion to, but not vital in this moment.
Much like her current resident in the facility, this one looked malnourished. A durable species, so she gathered. Even better, given testing could be demanding. But what a shame it would be to have him not performing at his best. To nurture for a time or run him into the ground as soon as possible. Decisions, decisions.
Ah, well.
A hallway at the deeper side of the forlorn lobby flickered to life, lights hanging loosely from the ceiling buzzing on to illuminate the path as best they could in this ruthless environment. Direction. “If you’ll proceed down the lit hallway and into the lift, you will be taken to an Extended Relaxation Chamber to rehabilitate as your vitals read to be less than desirable. Any questions you have along the way will be answered to the best of my ability where clearance is granted.”
Aperture-what-the-fuck? The scowl on your face contorted further and you clenched your fists, shooting a glance around this place. It was true, it did look rather dilapidated, didn’t it? The invading plant life poking through a few holes in the grimy panels you assumed must have been white at one point, probably. Shrugging a shoulder, you sigh and drift your gaze back up, searching for the camera you had spotted up above your pathetic reach.
"YOU REALLY EXPECT ME TO JUST ACCEPT THAT?" you asked with furrowed brows. Earth, though. The voice said you were on Earth. What fucking terrible luck. "WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I TRUST YOU, EVEN FOR A SECOND? YOU COULD BE FULL OF SHIT FOR ALL I KNOW AND I’M NOT ABOUT TO GO LEAPING OFF THE FUCKING DEEP END FOR YOUR FUCKING ENTERTAINMENT. I’M NOT STUPID. ALL I WANT IS A WAY OUT AND I’LL PAVE MY OWN IF NEED BE."
First of all, how dare he.
Second of all, how motherfucking dare he.
Simply presuming to talk to Her was one thing, but insult? Threaten? You can feel yourself shaking from the pure rage rushing through you; fueled by what could only be described as horrendous and filthy blasphemy and you are going to rip apart every last bit of him and make him pay how dare he how dare how dare he.
You don’t even have think about it before the voodoos are crashing into his pathetic unprotected shithive of a thinkpan like just the pain infused hurricane he deserves.
“Don’t know,” you say in response to your dearest brother’s words, voice soft and low and carrying the edge of a growl. “Seems to be you’d be nothing but all sorts of stupid to be showing up here like that.”
You hadn’t been expecting this; hadn’t thought to find him of all people during one of your frequent wanderings. Sniffer had picked up the distinct scent of another living troll and you’d thought it best to investigate more from curiosity than anything else, but a situation like this required intervention - She should not be bothered with the likes of this.
Make his way out? The thought makes you want to laugh and you do, the light chuckle betraying exactly how little humor you currently feel.
Faster than a blink and you spring from the shadows you’d be lurking in, forcing him down on the floor with you knee pressing into his back and hand gripped firmly around his neck, keeping his head down. Not to the point he wouldn’t be able to speak (as what would be the fun in that?), but the action should be more than enough to inform him that he would not be going anywhere that was not desired of his betters.
“You ain’t got the right, Karbro. Ain’t got the right to be disgracing Her with your presence and your filthy motherfucking tongue.”
Schrödinger's Clown | @vitrifiedapotheosis
Testing flow had picked up. On the rise, to a point where she could be a little luxurious and keep a few choice humans in stasis until she ran out once more or until they were ripe for the picking. Oh how wonderful it felt to be back in a rhythm like this, always kept engaged, testing multiple subjects at once, one right after another. And another. And ohh, another. A well oiled machine, she would muse to herself in light humor while amid the enjoyable atmosphere her facility created, the busy little hum of power and paneling filling the vast space of this scientific domain.
Read More
Gamzee snickered.
"Guess we'll just have to be of unlike mind on the matter of such and up pointlessness." There was always a point if there was pain, after all. The fact that he hadn’t been able to detect or feel it didn’t subtract from the beauty of it; didn’t lessen the meaning and the feel of the prime sensation having existed. Some sort of entertainment would have been nice but that didn’t make the thing entirely without purpose.
"'Fraid I'm going to have to be declining on the offer as well as I got business to be attending to at some point, though from what I’ve been hearing it sounds like a motherfucking bitchtits room and the thought is well appreciated,” he said, still grinning, tone completely masking any possible sarcastic intent. Not one to dance along the line between humor and sincerity so much as rip it to shreds.
Heh. If she didn’t just have the most wicked tongue he ever did hear. He eyed the human body.“Dunno, seems to me he’s all sorts of more useful now. Ain’t as if I got mind to be doin’ a thing but favors.”
It certainly wasn’t untrue. Not that he would hesitate should things get in the way, but even if it came to that there would possibly be a hint of regret, or as much of one as he was capable of feeling. Such wasted potential - but there was no need to consider that when everything appeared to be going so nicely.
He didn’t react beyond blithely raising an eyebrow as the various lasers and light structures faded. That certainly put a damper on things. Honestly, if he hadn’t intended to stick around he would have been long gone by now. At least they had been pleasant scenery if not almost entirely useless to the clown to whom the entire concept of legality was more of a joke than anything.
Sure enough that there wouldn’t be any need for fast action at least in the next while, Gamzee sat down next to the headless corpse and began to idly paint while the lady of the hour continued to talk, casually ripping open the man’s abdomen when he required more resources to continue the rhythmic series of interchanging “honk HONK honk” upon the floor. Sloppy, but taking the time to set up a more efficient way to get at the blood would be more trouble than it was worth at the moment.
As he did so he relaxed control on his voodoos. Let them spread out as they were wont to do; feeling the tickle of a few minds nearby that could be affected but for the most part ignoring it. It didn’t take effort to rein in the aura of fear and madness and so the entire thing was motivated by mild curiosity on Gamzee’s part. Testing the waters, so to speak, as it wouldn’t be affecting his gracious host. If he was willing to admit it there might also have been a bit of an impulse to show off.
He took her insults with a chuckle and doodled a mock frown. Careless might have fit and perhaps tenacious as well due to the gifts of his blood - stupid, however; he was not. But then appearances were part of the fun. Not as if he wasn’t used to it anyways; if anything it was almost nostalgic to be getting back into the whole “let’s insult the stupid clown” motif. This was a playing field he could easily work with.
As for her question, though…
He paused in his artwork and considered it. It didn’t matter to him whether she knew or not, and sharing the story might turn out to be rather intriguing in the long run. Besides, as relatively simple as it would be for him to break out of the place through force that would likely require a lot of effort and time he wasn’t interesting in expending at the moment. But how to tell it?
To begin with, he would need more color.
With exaggerated patience he drew up his sylladex and reached up into the madly flashing cards in order to retrieve a bottle of blood. Hm. The light brown wasn’t the shade he was looking for, but mix it with the red and… Well, it was close enough to at least be recognizable as some sort of orange. The dull sort of corruption was fitting considering the circumstances, anyways.
“There’d be a brother of mine you got your talk on to a while back ago if I’d not be any sorts of mistaken.” He wasn’t and he knew it, but it couldn’t hurt to at least act humble. A few broad strokes for the head and body; the detail was minimal for detail was irrelevant. “As of recent he’s been doing himself up into the most nasty sort of business, dilutin’ his color in the most right shameful way and flipping turnways over to what’d be unhealthy like for his thinkpan.”
Wings were added, spread upwards in a extravagant sort of display with extra care being paid to the individual feathers. Certain parts that just had to be done justice or it wouldn’t be right.
“And it’s all kinds of sad, you see.”
The painted sprite received an over exaggerated frown.
He reached up again, grabbing at another bottle - and along with it, the body of a rather mutilated dead bird came tumbling out. Huh. He didn’t remember putting those two in the same card, but then that’s what happened sometimes when dealing with the more chaotic types of sylladex.
“So I got my thinking on to be the most motherfucking helpful I can be and grant him his due retribution.”
Shades, arms, and the little figure was complete. The troll sat back, contemplating before picking up the feathered friend that had so conveniently decided to join the party.
“Gonna tear him to pieces. Gonna rip his flesh-“
A brutal yet elegant twist and off came a wing, effortlessly-
“-piece by motherfucking piece-“
-followed methodically by its pair-
“-until he can’t be hearin’ a thing but the holy motherfucking hilarity of his screams.”
-and then the the head, with a lovely little snap.
He smiled wide as a small tremor of anticipatory adrenaline shook through him, eyes darkening a few shades already. Oh, how sweet that day was going to be. He had been waiting for so long just to get the timing right despite all the delays and hold ups that had occurred along the way. This was going to be it, the crescendo to such a beautiful piece and he was going to conduct it with all the care it deserved.
“Brother’s got a thing for irony; brother’s got a thing for the blade of yours he went and lost like the disrespectful shit for brains he be,” he said, and then shrugged, eyeing the nice addition of feathers the bloodstained floor. It had been a bit overdone, perhaps, but it wasn’t as if he had been going for subtle. “Thought it’d make for a nice joke, if you be catchin’ the drift.”
Davesprite: Open it
"Right, its a fucking yuck fest over here…" your shoulders slacken a bit as you furrow your brows a bit, but it’s not quite anger this time. You’re more curious than anything, and you can’t help but wonder what he was trying to go about doing, aside from putting on a goddamn show for him. It was always a new experience with this guy, but it kind of followed a similar enough pattern.
Drumming your talons on the side of the chest impatiently, you finally push yourself away from it, arms folded as you cocked your head to the side a bit.
"I’m not touching that thing, you’re gonna need to think of a new routine here, ‘brother.’"
He thought he was being so damn clever here, and it was almost too obvious. Why everything else had been body parts, severed limbs, things without life. It was almost like hunting for car parts. And you had just been handed the engine.
Only it was a little more macabre than that. Everything this guy did was sick and twisted as all hell in some way. It was what he was all about, at least that’s how it seemed. Sometimes he seemed to have other motivations with other people, but he had a really special obsession with you and it made you feel nauseous. No matter what you did and no matter what experiences you two went through separately, you always ended up like this. Standing across from each other. Because that’s where he wanted you to be.
It didn’t matter though, the buck stopped here. You weren’t going to pull it out, you hadn’t even wanted to see it again after he tore it from the chest last time. The chest it belonged to in the first place. Yet even then, you just knew he was probably expecting this to some degree. It was all a huge, long and predictable setup leading up towards some lameass punchline.
And he was never one that missed out on a chance to deliver it.
“And whatever would be givin’ you the idea a thing about this is old?”
Your eyes glimmer unseen with the spark of humor, thoroughly enjoying just how blind he is to it all. The poor thing is practically bored from his lack of vision, and it's all up to you to teach him just how to properly see and feel that this was the point of a looming crescendo and things were far from the same old tale now.
Not that he would have the mind the learn from his lessons. Shame, but no one ever did.
Both plans and priorities had, after all, long since changed. You had purpose now, beautiful soul-binding purpose that pulsed and matched tempo with the bloodlust swarming inside your bloodpusher.
Imperceptible behind the layers of pitch and nightmare, the colors of your sylladex flash and the Sword’s handle slips smoothly into your hand, the soft glow adding another source of light and producing a wider array of shadows on the walls and floors that seem to shiver the slightest bit. Almost as if they, too, feel the anticipation. Everything set up parallel to your first real encounter; the visuals now starkly similar besides the minor differences concerning types of chests.
But this time, the weapon you hold in your hand is the real thing. Crafted and made and given to serve its virtuous purpose, as real as the blade you had used earlier to slay and begin the play. The sprite was precious enough to make the extra effort worthwhile, and how wonderfully perfect had it all worked out when that was the act that changed everything. For he was precious, so terribly precious, and following the holy paths of motherfucking righteousness lead to only one proper option for things that carried such value.
You shiver, caressing the handle as religious fervor adds to the mix of emotions thrumming in your head. You are a string pulled taught, more than prepared for whatever slightest disturbance will come along and cause the snap.
This is the point of no return and you would not have it any other way.
Exotic animal (by Shohei Hanazaki)
