[Karkat makes a sound that might be a laugh's distant, estranged, ill-tempered cousin. He doesn't know; human-style relations are too much to contemplate right now.]

Fuck you, I smell like salt and fresh sea breeze.

[Also maybe a little like fish. He hasn't taken to smelling himself.]

[The humor, such as it is, doesn't last long. Gamzee's suggestions may be meant well, but they ring like pale sentiment, and probably are, and it's more than he can deal with right now.]

Gamzee? Don't. I'll talk more with the Signless when I feel up to it, because I have three years of not knowing him at all and I still have to talk to Eridan. I will sleep when I have the free time to do it, and I don't need you to tell me to.

[He stands up, brushes a little sand off his jeans, and sighs.]

Now can I have some space? I don't care if you stick on the island or go back to the bubble, knock yourself out, but I've got other shit to deal with and things to think about.