anemoi | (no subject)

[Karkat, after disappearing and reappearing, is for formality's sake being reprocessed through the labs just in case his memories have been stolen again. The staff tries to go through the script and repeatedly remind him that even if he remembers Sirocco, he might not recall everything and may be disoriented. He's been repeatedly telling them to shut up and leave him alone while being jostled around.

They knew this was coming. The pressure cooker just sprung a leak. He can be heard from the apartments easily.]

OH MY FUCKING GOD GET AWAY FROM ME YOU PRIMITIVE SHITSPONGED PSEUDOSCIENTIST NOOKSNIFFING RETARDS!

I fucking know! Anemoi! Jobs! Monsters! Apartments! My name is Karkat Vantas and I'm a troll from Alternia and I had several terrible friends and was an apalling failure! My symbol means "freak of nature who should be skewered full of arrows and burned alive for being awful garbage" and my lusus loved dead things that smelled like shit! My wriggling day is the twelfth bilunar perigee of the sixth dark season's equinox! I have an extensive collection of dumb romantic comedies on my grub drive! I remember all the pointless bullshit I rememered while I was in this dump and I remember all the new and inane memories I made with the amnesiac chump asshole brigade who lives here!

[He tears a calendar off the wall and begins kind of crumpling it up a little just for effect.]

How long was I even gone, anyway?!? Should I have aged or something? Was I in stasis? I can't fucking make sense of your bizarre so-called "human earth calendars!" What even is a "month?" Like four solar sweeps? Wonderful! The more time I missed in these zany human-infested behemoth leaving-grounds the less I can claim to have witnessed of the shittiest gathering of wiggler-fucking morons in probably all universes ever!

NOW WHERE'S MY FUCKING ROOM KEY?!?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It's just a pin prick, you big wiggler.

[He passes the inoculation gun back to a medical assistant that is very much relieved she didn't have to do it. Then he looks down at his clipboard.]

Let's see... Tracking device implant: check. Rectal probe: probably desired but unnecessary. Dormant flesh-eating biocontaminant injection: check...

Edited 2012-06-16 22:00 (UTC)

[He slaps a hand over the horrible wound immediately and takes a peek at it. Okay, just a tiny drop of blood. He keeps it covered just in case, though.]

Look, asshole, you can't just catch a guy off guard like that. It just so happens that trolls have heightened combat instincts, so of course I took that as an attack. Had you foolishly fallen for my play-dead routine, I would have reflexively torn your throat out like a total badass.

[crickets]

Uh huh. You're a real killing machine for a guy who can't even stand the sight of his own blood. Look... if I hadn't done that, we'd still be struggling over that damn shot for the next half-hour. You know it, I know it, and no one, I repeat, NO ONE, wanted it to happen.

[He scribbles the last of things on the clipboard and flips it onto the table.]'Sides, sometimes the real badass move is knowing when not to fight.

[Well okay, yeah, that's a good point.]

Tell that to my fucking species.

[Hm. Looks like Karkat really wasn't just trying to scare him. He was actually serious about it.]

I can't say I'm surprised. From what I figure you guys came from ancient top-teir predators, or at least something with a lot of teeth. Instinct is not the kind of thing you can just forget about, but hey, if we humans can evolve past our ancient ancestral impulse to fling our own feces, then I say anything's possible.