fuckity | CG: SO THIS IS THE FIRST VIDEO POST OF THE BUNCH.

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CG: SO THIS IS THE FIRST VIDEO POST OF THE BUNCH.

So, ummmmmm.

[ Cue a teenage boy addressing the network! Well, he's sort of like a teenage boy, if teenage boys were grey and had sharp nails and tiny candy corn horns. There are bags under his eyes like he hasn't slept in about, uh, a decade, and he rubs at one of them in irritation, his lips peeling back into a bit of a snarl. ]

What gives? Exactly? I sign up for one thing and get a-fucking-nother? What the everloving turd is up with that? Oh, hey, guys, Karkat's showed up, let's all change the rules and move everything around and really confuse everyone and shit! Haha! Thank you and fuck you very kindly!

[ He pauses a beat, face still screwed up into something irritated - 'tch', he punctuates everything with a glance off to the side and seems to be thinking hard about something. ]

I'm going to look for apple juice. Because I know some asshole and he never shuts the actual bleeding fuck up about apple juice. If I can find anything on this thing!!

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You clearly did way better in English than I did. Which is impressive, considering the. [He gestures at his own head, about where horns would be.] Is English even your first language?

Include it in your letter. I might even write it down myself.

[ There's a kind of tone to his voice, like everything hints at something more - Karkat picks up on it, but he really doesn't look that fazed. After all, that shit was like late night reality TV back home. ]

You're a human, right?

[This gets a pause too. Is he?]

Mostly.

[ Because from what he understands, Karkat's pretty sure that humans are largely supposed to be all rah, rah, violence doesn't solve anything. ]

And the parts that aren't?

[Sadly he has never been that type of human.]

The parts that aren't are better.

[ What- oh. Karkat rubs at one of his nubs, almost self-consciously. ] Spoken, yeah. Written, no. Trolls are weird.

Well, if that's impressive, there's a whole cacophony of shit that I'll just occasionally rain down from the skies; just take your pick.

So what else does that make you and why is it superior?

Is the answer to "what the hell does that mean" an interesting one or should I just not ask?

So basically I'll be following you around with a tape recorder.

[This question also has a whole lot of answers. Mastermind, scientist, anarchist. But he goes for the one that conveys the most power.]

A Deadman. Superior because Deadmen can manipulate their blood.

[He hates just explaining this, though. It's unsatisfying and inelegant. So he bites down hard on his thumb (in imitation of Ganta, as has become his style, mocking) until a drop of blood blossoms. It curves into a blade, short, thin, and sharp, with which he cuts the palm of his other hand. Here another blade forms, wider. He displays both to the camera.]

Like so.

Uhhh, not particularly. [ He holds up two fingers. ] Wrigglers learn two written languages in the school hive, [ and he ticks each off, ] English, and Alternian. Alternian being native, English being the most commonly used fucking language in the universe.

Nope, you can't just record this shit for prosperity. You've got to suck this down, glean what you can and follow the world-weary quest of hoping to recreate the monstrosities that escape my protein chute and being basically doomed for eternal failure.

Seriously? The more you know. I hope Alternian spelling makes more sense.

If I can be second best I might die happy. Make me your disciple.

[ It's Karkat's turn to lean into his communicator this time, as if he can crawl through his screen to get a better look. Blood, for obvious reasons, is something of an utter fascination to him, and he's quite frankly never really seen anything like it. He's quiet for a moment, awed or disgusted. ]

[ Knight of Blood his fucking ass. And to top everything off, they're sickles. They're fucking scythes. He can't do anything like that with his candy cane bullshit. ]

Innate or learned?

Well, yeah, that's not hard to do. You know what really pisses me off? Unlockable. It means you can unlock something, and it means it can't be locked! It's the same fucking word with two mutually exclusive definitions! Who the fuck wants to learn this codswabble?

I'm accepting applications for followers as we speak. You'll make a good candidate.

[Toto holds the blades to the camera for another moment, posing - preening, really. This body is special to him. It's his favorite so far, and there is a good chance that he won't get another one, though he refuses to think of this. Of course he'll show it off, what it can do.]

[Both blades go wide and flat briefly before the blood slips away into his veins, and he places the cuts together, applies pressure. If he doesn't, he'll get weak, and nobody is allowed to see that. (Fuck you Barge and your time limit.)]

Innate to the body.

[This is a clue, once again deliberate, alluding to something only Senji and Junko know about.]

What, you don't like contradictions to every single rule ever? [He snorts.] I can't believe you used the word codswabble, though.

Sweet. Just so you know, I'm holding my breath until I get accepted. Literally.

So you've always had it? It's impressive.

[ But he already knows that. ]

[ One of his hands itches at his arm, subconsciously, like he can get at the veins underneath those sleeves. That complex isn't going away any time soon. Maybe he's imagining the same shit coming out of his own skin. ]

What's the sustainability on that shit? I mean, it's your fucking blood; how much do you shoot out before you start tripping over your own shoelaces?

And they call us trolls. [ Huff HUFF, it's a WORD. ] Stick around long enough and I might even goshnabbit. [ Spoilers: He never goshnabbits. ]

If I actually wait before I process anything, do you pass out in a pile of your own failures? Also known as pillows.

Yes. [Which is a lie. But he never promised he'd answer honestly.]

[Flattery will get you absolutely everywhere with this one. Toto brightens, clapping his hands together sharply.]

Good, good, you're asking important questions now! It's retractable. As long as you're careful, you can fight for a very long time.

Me and a couple others. We're gonna start another meal in a half hour, you wanna stick around and see what the cuisine's like.

'Poopy wrigglers'? [ No, seriously? That is the most ridiculous thing she has ever heard. ]

Anyway, people make mistakes. That's kind of what this place is about. Nobody's perfect.

Uh-huh.

[ It's funny, how Karkat can be the one asking the questions all he likes, and yet he feels like he's the one being tested here - not Toto. His other hands moves to rest his chin on that as well, and he tilts his head at Toto with a bit of a narrowing of his eyes. ]

So how many people have you killed, then?

[He is. This is how Toto operates. Karkat is lucky that he realizes it's happening - others haven't. For the moment, Toto tilts his head as well, though his eyes stay wide and oh so honest.]

Another good question. Mm. I don't remember.

Triple digits.

Okay.

[ His eyes widen a little, a whole new understanding of what he's dealing with here. But the fact should probably floor him more than it does; he only has half a mind to think so. ]

What the fuck for?

[ Karkat hesitates, looks Riddick over and then the kitchen, both warily, but when his fingers drum on the counter, he nods. ]

Yeah. I could stand to try it out. Just don't fuckin' disappoint, huh?

[ And he'd be awfully proud of that. As it is now, he just lets out an impatient sort of 'tsk' before he elucidates: ] You'd call them 'babies'. Babies that shit hard in their little diapers.

Yeah, I suppose. The point therein being to get them a little more perfect than they're already flying, though.

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