Those who shared a strong bond, meister and weapon, were often capable of being able to see into the psyche of each other to an extent. The weaker resonation made this difficult right now, but Gamzee was trying his damndest.

Get your focus on me. Set your mind on where I'm speakin' at.

If L did this, he might be able to find both of them on an empty plain, the troll's dark figure flickering in and out of focus before him. It was a strain, doing this much, but the image didn't relay such. Gamzee thumped a fist to his chest a couple times.

You got a darkness here. That ain't a death sentence unless you make it. You got a thing you crave - a toxic motherfucker of a need you got yourself graspin' for as if it's your last gulp of air.

I've felt all this, my brother. I know what it's like, staring through that hole in your pan and thinking everything can only fall the motherfuck through from then on.

The very darkness around them flickered then, flashes of a grinning clown face. Splashes of what might as well have been various colors of paint but was recognizable to those familiar as troll blood. Severed heads on a table labeled as the jury.

Things don't gotta be the same as they were before. They can't be.