Torn Between Worlds

Chapter Three: Courage Has A Price

There was barely any morning light as Gamzee woke up early as he, with difficulty, had gotten used to. The boy turned groggily in his bed to face the entirety of his room. His brows furrowed for a moment as he tried to remember where he was, ah yes, he wad back "home" with the highbloods as a hostage, he was laying in his old bed, in his old room, in his old home.

Gamzee glanced sleepily at the wall across from him to look at the large wall clock; forty past five in the morning. He didn't usually get up that early, but he had appeared to now, most probably because he wasn't where he was used to being and troubled thoughts kept waking him during the night. Yet the place still had a creepy sense of comfort and security to it. The juggalo was awake but he didn't feel like getting out of bed, he wanted to stay in his room, find something to keep his attention. It would be ideal if he could simply just sleep away the entire time he was here and spend the days in his room, away from his no longer friends, away from the tyrants, away from the highbloods, away from him.

Gamzee didn't want to think about that right now, seeing as it was still reletively dark outside he decided it would be best to get another few hours of sleep, at least he was happy in his dream land, where everything was perfect and no one hated each other, it was the perfect paradise he knew he'd never get. With a soft sigh through his nose the young troll shut his eyes once again, bringing his covers up to his chin and cuddling into the warmth of them, after a few minutes falling asleep again, with the slightest frown on his lips.

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The day started out early for Kurloz, as it always did, he was awake and doing whatever work he needed to get done from five in the morning, most of the residents in the mansion of course still asleep peacefully in their respite blocks. Today specially had Kurloz sitting at the desk in his office filling away heaps of paper work that would usually be for his father, but because he's a good son the tall man took half to help the old guy out, regretting it subconsciously.

Kurloz put down the final stamp on the current document he was working on and after setting the stamp down he gave a low groan, fingers rising to rub at his painted temples as the headache began to settle in. The pains the man got in his skull had been a constant occurrence for the past- he'd lost track, he's had headaches for as long as he can remember and had gotten used to them by now. Especially after finding out how to ease them.

The tall highblood stood from his desk giving his back a stretch with another groan, his back was cramping up, how long had he been slumped over the papers? Kurloz looked at the clock a slight cringe plastering itself on his face. Three hours, three damn hours and he was only half done with the documents, fuck it, he'll leave the other half for later in the day or maybe even tomorrow.

But right now his most urgent need was reminded to him by the pulsing sharp ache in his pan. The man hissed softly as he walked over to a large set of drawers with one hand to his temple. With the other he grabbed one of the handles and pulled the drawer open. The inside was filled to the brim with different assortments of drugs, and that wasn't even a quarter of what he had. The indigoblood had earned himself a nickname he took a bit of pride in, the drug Lord, it always made him chuckle when he thought about it.

The capricorn picked out an already pre-rolled blunt of some sort of drug concoction and lit it with a lighter he often had handy. He put the blunt to his pierced lips and immediately inhaled the strong substance. It was the good shit, giving him a slight tingle the longer he held it on his lungs, eventually breathing a stream of thick smoke out and letting it cloud the room like fog. Kurloz held the drug stick between his teeth as he walked back over to his desk, looking over his work lazily and flipping through a few of the pages, he had a lot more trolls to sign off today.