If Karkat has one thing going for him behind the profanity and emotional theatrics, it's that he's a good learned when he wants to be. Especially when someone is taking the time to answer his pertinent questions. The only trouble is that the answers he receives make about as much sense as Gamzee's grasp on grammar. His eyebrows knit up in a tangle.

"Slow down, would you? I can't keep up with this much horseshit at once," he protests, rubbing a hand at a temple that's already threatening a headache. "The gem thing makes no sense, demons are supposed to have feathery wings instead of those things and horns, and I've never heard of a Disgaea. But the gem thing--" He transfers his hand to the bloodstone peeking through his shirt. "You're talking about this?"