Beneath Every Depth
Theres nothing much that can be done in the way of effort. Nothing rightly to be giving a fuck about when everything and everyone is out of place. Though thinking on it, that is just how whimsy works. By taking the fabric flooring cover and pulling it right out from under your pedary bits. Or something like that.
Today was just like any other day on this rock: boring and mirthless. The sky was gray, the air was stagnant despite the wicked fury which which it whipped, and everything sounded as if it was drowned in mono. Even the water that Gamzee drank from was flavorless, without so much as a metallic tinge to it. The kind earth would give anything that erodes it. It was the kind of taste he missed, and there was nothing like it. Nothing like his beautiful beach.
But those were the kinds of thoughts fools dwelled on, the kind that keep you from knowing on the fact there’s even someone behind a motherfucker! The bard peeks over his shoulder, ready to grab a club if he has to. Just what mystical force brought him a guest?