[ Old planets recovering from extinction events aren't all that different from brand new worlds in their fledgling stages. He might even know a thing or two about that, but he's a little past strolling in and telling everyone in earshot he knows better.
That doesn't mean he doesn't try to assert dominance the second he finds himself in a ragtag group of border volunteers, wagging a sickle at the air as he shouts down someone for wandering off alone. For all that he might just be one of the shortest in the group, stocky and squat and obviously alien, with his nubby horns and grey skin and... colorful vernacular, he makes up for it with sheer chutzpah.
Or maybe he's just loud and opinionated. In any case, venture close enough and one might just make out what's got him so worked up. ]
iv. - Memories
[ Experiencing memories that belong either to himself, a version of himself, or others (of any timeline, doomed or otherwise) isn't exactly new to him, even years after the meteor shuttled through an endless night that was, eventually, full of 'bubbles' of a similar nature.
That's not really to say that Karkat goes entirely unscathed, but he makes a passable show of tolerating it, up to a point.
That point has limits, evidenced by when this young man -- certainly humanoid without being actually human -- plugs his pointed ears with two fingers, sits down on his heels and squeezes shut eyes of yellow, except for his red irises, and pretends, very conspicuously, that the large, white, crab-like creature isn't looming over him.
He might even wave people off, irascible to the end. ]
I don't give one single nook-whiffing shit if you've never seen anything like it, do us both a favor and pound dirt! You think I'm yanking your frond?
[ Look, you see your dead, uh, not quite parental figure for the first time in ages, you'll be crabby too. Ha ha. ]
Wildcard; (Want something else? Let me know or suggest something, I'm probably game.)
Karkat Vantas | Homestuck (cw: there will likely be foul mouthed stuff here)
[ Old planets recovering from extinction events aren't all that different from brand new worlds in their fledgling stages. He might even know a thing or two about that, but he's a little past strolling in and telling everyone in earshot he knows better.
That doesn't mean he doesn't try to assert dominance the second he finds himself in a ragtag group of border volunteers, wagging a sickle at the air as he shouts down someone for wandering off alone. For all that he might just be one of the shortest in the group, stocky and squat and obviously alien, with his nubby horns and grey skin and... colorful vernacular, he makes up for it with sheer chutzpah.
Or maybe he's just loud and opinionated. In any case, venture close enough and one might just make out what's got him so worked up. ]
iv. - Memories
[ Experiencing memories that belong either to himself, a version of himself, or others (of any timeline, doomed or otherwise) isn't exactly new to him, even years after the meteor shuttled through an endless night that was, eventually, full of 'bubbles' of a similar nature.
That's not really to say that Karkat goes entirely unscathed, but he makes a passable show of tolerating it, up to a point.
That point has limits, evidenced by when this young man -- certainly humanoid without being actually human -- plugs his pointed ears with two fingers, sits down on his heels and squeezes shut eyes of yellow, except for his red irises, and pretends, very conspicuously, that the large, white, crab-like creature isn't looming over him.
He might even wave people off, irascible to the end. ]
I don't give one single nook-whiffing shit if you've never seen anything like it, do us both a favor and pound dirt! You think I'm yanking your frond?
[ Look, you see your dead, uh, not quite parental figure for the first time in ages, you'll be crabby too. Ha ha. ]
Wildcard; (Want something else? Let me know or suggest something, I'm probably game.)