[Karkat has waited patiently... or, well, as patiently as he could, babbling to himself about ships and angels and whatever he's angry with. his door is slightly ajar when Aziraphale knocks and the troll answers immediately, practically yanking it open.
you are met with a rather short, grey-skinned individual. he has sharp teeth, nubby horns, and a glare fixated on you. this is your inmate! congratulations!]
About time.
[despite his rough voice, he's pretty nervous. this whole being dead thing doesn't sit well with him. Karkat is still hoping that this is all a joke or a dream or something equally stupid that he doesn't need to fret over]
[action]
you are met with a rather short, grey-skinned individual. he has sharp teeth, nubby horns, and a glare fixated on you. this is your inmate! congratulations!]
About time.
[despite his rough voice, he's pretty nervous. this whole being dead thing doesn't sit well with him. Karkat is still hoping that this is all a joke or a dream or something equally stupid that he doesn't need to fret over]