It wasn't that he couldn't, or didn't want to. He wasn't Tavros, who couldn't leave his carefully iron-proofed apartment without getting a headache at best; he wasn't Sollux, who flatly wouldn't move unless prodded. He just...didn't go out.
It was okay for a little while, if he was just walking from one place to another. City people didn't expect to see each other's daemons. He might just have one small enough to fit into a pocket, and if he did, why wouldn't he? There were dangerous people in the city. Stories were always going around. (Some of them were true. Karkat talked about every case he'd ever had but the one where he'd met Gamzee.)
But if he hung around for a while, people would notice. They might not know at first what they were noticing: stillness where there should have been movement, silence where there should have been whispers. But sooner or later, as Karkat's Will skittered around on his shoulder, they would wonder why Gamzee's daemon wasn't doing the same. And then they would notice. And then they would stare. And then a whisper would go around the crowd, a whisper that always resolved into the same word.
Intercised.
It was the darkest of the dark rumors of things that happened in abandoned streets and behind locked doors. No one wanted to believe it was more than a childhood story. But even those who did believe knew that no one could survive intercision, not really survive. The body might keep breathing, but the person was gone. A body that kept pretending, that had no soul but could walk among other people unremarked until it was too late, was worse than a rumor. It was a nightmare.
Karkat would explain if it came right down to it, if a mob started to form out of what had been just a crowd. But he didn't like to. The truth was as strange as the appearance. Either way, they wouldn't be going back to that place.
It was better to have people come to them, people who already knew and hadn't walked away. They flopped all over the furniture in Karkat's apartment, safe behind the wards they'd drawn together in their blood to make one safe hollow in the world. No one talked about that night, but they all knew. They had been there for it and seen what Karkat had done. And no one mentioned, either, the way Will clambered across the place where Karkat's and Gamzee's shoulders touched, one soul to share between them.
FILL: TEAM EQUIUS<3TAVROS
It wasn't that he couldn't, or didn't want to. He wasn't Tavros, who couldn't leave his carefully iron-proofed apartment without getting a headache at best; he wasn't Sollux, who flatly wouldn't move unless prodded. He just...didn't go out.
It was okay for a little while, if he was just walking from one place to another. City people didn't expect to see each other's daemons. He might just have one small enough to fit into a pocket, and if he did, why wouldn't he? There were dangerous people in the city. Stories were always going around. (Some of them were true. Karkat talked about every case he'd ever had but the one where he'd met Gamzee.)
But if he hung around for a while, people would notice. They might not know at first what they were noticing: stillness where there should have been movement, silence where there should have been whispers. But sooner or later, as Karkat's Will skittered around on his shoulder, they would wonder why Gamzee's daemon wasn't doing the same. And then they would notice. And then they would stare. And then a whisper would go around the crowd, a whisper that always resolved into the same word.
Intercised.
It was the darkest of the dark rumors of things that happened in abandoned streets and behind locked doors. No one wanted to believe it was more than a childhood story. But even those who did believe knew that no one could survive intercision, not really survive. The body might keep breathing, but the person was gone. A body that kept pretending, that had no soul but could walk among other people unremarked until it was too late, was worse than a rumor. It was a nightmare.
Karkat would explain if it came right down to it, if a mob started to form out of what had been just a crowd. But he didn't like to. The truth was as strange as the appearance. Either way, they wouldn't be going back to that place.
It was better to have people come to them, people who already knew and hadn't walked away. They flopped all over the furniture in Karkat's apartment, safe behind the wards they'd drawn together in their blood to make one safe hollow in the world. No one talked about that night, but they all knew. They had been there for it and seen what Karkat had done. And no one mentioned, either, the way Will clambered across the place where Karkat's and Gamzee's shoulders touched, one soul to share between them.