MSPA fan-fiction

[Tenebrais]

I'm not sure whether to explain what I have in mind for this religion or to just let you keep guessing. :P
'cause you're coming up with some interesting ideas here.


...holy crap, Andrew must feel like this every day.

[gardenGenosse]

I see troll religion being extremely arcane and highly predicated on rituals. Possibly decadent, stagnant, and rotting from the inside. Maybe we can have it as the nexus of power in troll civilization, barely concerned with spiritual things and more with excessive material wealth and political power.

I sort of want to do an end-of-days story about the twelve trolls in the Veil, but I really don't know enough about them yet to pull it off.

[Ember]

I see troll religion being extremely arcane and highly predicated on rituals. Possibly decadent, stagnant, and rotting from the inside. Maybe we can have it as the nexus of power in troll civilization, barely concerned with spiritual things and more with excessive material wealth and political power.

Aw. I'd like to think a civilization as old (and as cynical!) as the trolls' would have gotten past that stage. But maybe that's just me.

(Secular humanism is funny because it makes you idealistic about cynicism.)

I'm not sure whether to explain what I have in mind for this religion or to just let you keep guessing. :P
'cause you're coming up with some interesting ideas here.


...holy crap, Andrew must feel like this every day.

Does it feel awesome? I've always thought it must feel awesome.

[Tenebrais]

Might as well explain this religion since I'm going to bed.

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The priest isn't CG's father. CG was an orphan. The Temple persists in this late age through families - the only practicers of religion are those who run it. The Temple encourages the fostering of orphaned children; it is the duty of all worshippers to look after those most in need. Thus, as a dutiful priest, the old man took a young Carson and raised him as his own.
This temple still sees a somewhat large congregation (well, large by the standards of the troll world). While very few still believe, most consider the temple an artistic relic that should be preserved. In an artless world, the art of the past is considered very valuable.

And yes it does feel very awesome.

[sarasvati]

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Sarasvati, your story is amazing. A+++.

But I read one part a little too quickly, and, uh...

She pulls the trigger.

He feels a warm splatter against his back, looks over his shoulder and sees a black mess dripping down a column, down the wall, and he hangs his head, feels a hysterical sort of laughter bubble up from his gut

OHMYGOD DAVE BLED SHALE DAVE IS AN IMP

AHAHAHA OH MY GOD YES.

"No! I must kill the imps" he shouted
Jade said "No, Dave. You are the imps"
And then Dave was a zombie.

Sarasvati, have you thought about putting that up on the Archive of Our Own? I want to link it around but I know most of my friends aren't going to read a forum fic (to their ENORMOUS LOSS)

I actually had no idea what that was! Then I checked it out and there's a waiting list. I'd be glad to upload it somewhere else like fanfiction.net or even my own livejournal if you'd like, though!

I like this story. In fact, I have a potential title idea; use a quote from "Ozymandias". It's that epic.

That's a brilliant idea, actually. Thank you!

Sarasvati, please write more. I'm sorry that I forgot to say that earlier, but that fic was fantastic. No matter what Jade ends up doing in her world, I still think that that was a a nice capturing of character, and I really liked the suspense that you built up.

This fic won't be the last from me, for sure, though I'm not sure if I'll do anything quite so extensive again. (The final product clocked in at over 6000 words, making it the longest thing I've ever done.) I'm especially glad that my fic gave off a sense of suspense! I was afraid I had ruined the pacing by the second half. Thank you for the kind words.

Saras, that was beautifully and skillfully writ. I'm not much of a fic reader, as I'm a bit of a stickler about canon, but you presented the characters extremely well (especially in the pester chum logs). Thanks for sharing :3

Thank you! Hopefully this thread will drag you to the dark side of fic reading yet. <_<

You guys make me feel all warm inside.

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--- You have quit (quit: FUCKING OLD MAN) ---

one two three OHHHH I GET IT. God, I died forever. I think I might be eight years old.

Soooo looking foward to where this one is going!

C4ndl3l1ght H4t3 D4t3s

2X Shipping Combo?

(SNIP FOR IMPOSSIBLE CUTENESS)

I just adored this! Their hate is love.

I look away for half a day and all the awesome stuff crops up. I AM BURSTING WITH LOVE FOR THIS THREAD

[Ember]

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While very few still believe, most consider the temple an artistic relic that should be preserved. In an artless world, the art of the past is considered very valuable.

Ooooh. This I like very much.

And Sarasvati, I didn't comment on your second part, but rest assured I loved it!

[I-gor]

Oh yeah, whatever happened to the fic you were writing about Snowman being gC's Exile? I liked that one and was wondering where it had gone to.

[nextian]

I actually had no idea what that was! Then I checked it out and there's a waiting list. I'd be glad to upload it somewhere else like fanfiction.net or even my own livejournal if you'd like, though!

D'oh, forgot it's still on invites. What's your LJ?

[C.Olimar788]

Well so I got linked here from another topic and decided, on a whim, to read some stuff.

And oh my gosh. I don't think I could have possibly picked a better time to do so! First of all, sarasvati, Which Yet Survive was absolutely AMAZING. I haven't read fanfic that good in a LONG time.

Secondly, I am definitely looking forward to further parts of Shaon's The Thirteenth, and I-gor's Because, It's Midnight was downright hilarious. Great job to all you awesome authors!

Thirdly, someone needs to get a site up with all the fanfic backed up in an easily-readable manner, like the Fan Adventures site. It's hard to find all the parts of some of these stories, and the more convenient it is to find them, the more people can stumble across these awesome works!

But yeah SO SO AWESOME and I need to try and go back and read the entirety of these threads someday. XD

[Lexxy]

If it's canon and well-written, I will read it.

[I-gor]

Secondly, I am definitely looking forward to further parts of Shaon's The Thirteenth, and I-gor's and Mr.Diskette's Because, It's Midnight was downright hilarious. Great job to all you awesome authors!

Fixed. Thanks for the kudos, but Disk came up with half the great lines. Or probably more than half. It was a group venture, so...yeah.

About archiving, maybe someone could set up something like archiving the MSPAFAs, but with some of the good stories from here.

[sarasvati]

While very few still believe, most consider the temple an artistic relic that should be preserved. In an artless world, the art of the past is considered very valuable.

Ember quoted this, but I think it bears repeating! That is beautiful sentiment and a realistic (I think) way to handle religion in a culture that has spiritually moved beyond it.

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D'oh, forgot it's still on invites. What's your LJ?

http://dellaluce.livejournal.com

I went ahead and created a new account which will be a repository for all my MSPA stuff, especially in case I write something that's too dark for the forums (which is likely! Which Yet Survive is the fluffiest thing I've written...ever). It'll also make it easier on you on the chance I write something else you'd like to pass around!

And Sarasvati, I didn't comment on your second part, but rest assured I loved it!

And oh my gosh. I don't think I could have possibly picked a better time to do so! First of all, sarasvati, Which Yet Survive was absolutely AMAZING. I haven't read fanfic that good in a LONG time.

Thank you so much, both of you!

[Valter]

I have decided to capitalize on recent updates and start a Battle-fic.
This will be the first of a series.

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On the twenty-fifth day of fighting, a colossal battleship spawned over Skaia, and was promptly sent crashing to the war-torn surface of the planet. This event was significant for two reasons: first that the ship was a deep brown hue never seen on the battlefield before; second that the ship's engine failure was the result not of fire from opposing forces (indeed, during its brief stay in the skies no other force could even be sure they were supposed to shoot at it at all), but rather by the fact that it had lacked an engine in the first place.

Its presence on Skaia was no surprise to the TIRED ADVISER surveying the field in front of him, but he cursed the Veil nonetheless. The war had started with some air of normality, an atmosphere that had persisted for all of twenty minutes before the Heir of Breath had somehow managed to off himself. The orbs above his spires on Derse and Prospit had then shattered, leaving the harlequin prototypes completely exposed.

The true consequences of this were not noted until a full day later, when the Witch of Space followed the Heir into oblivion. It was at that point, following the empty fourth orb's explosion, that the state of the Harlequin prototype was noted by a particularly observant Dersian. The prototype, without its stabilizing glass orb to use as protection, was apparently beginning to melt. deformities became steadily more obvious over the next week, and the entire prototype began to sag and list to one side, as though it were protesting its cruel exposure to the fury of the elements.

The computers in the Veil were apathetic to the cries of the prototype, though, using its deteriorating form to continue manufacturing soldiers for the war taking place upon Skaia. This was a decision that no proper-minded Prospitian or Dersian could feel sympathy for, as the genetic abominations resulting from the flawed prototype were truly not a sight for the weak of heart. Steadily more bizarre creatures had poured from the facilities on the Veil for three weeks now, and each generation was more hideous than the last.

The mutations had clearly started altering the battleships as well by now, as not a single one had remained aloft for more than an hour in the last week, always failing due to vital systems malfunctioning or failing altogether. Of course, this particular specimen seemed to have set a new record by failing to start working in the first place. The TIRED ADVISER collapsed his spyglass and gathered some nearby guards to aid him, as the crash site was close enough to his position to allow a decent salvaging operation. The odd hue of the monstrosity set him on edge, but he hoped the metal was still in good order. A battleship had not crashed in close proximity to the CHECKERED PALACE for quite some time now, and the palace was in sore need of the powerful armors that all warships were coated in. A white beast had recently crashed through one of the walls of the royal chambers, making quite a ruckus before being finally subdued by the guards. The king had already risen for the day and was in the throne room at the time of the attack, and so once again had unwittingly evaded death. TA admired, if nothing else, his king's ability to avoid danger through no fault of his own.

At any rate, the defenses of the palace were not currently adequate, and one of his jobs as royal adviser was the correction of such deficiencies. It was certainly not in his original job description, but he had been taking on steadily more tasks as his comrades fell to the horrors pouring out of the Veil. It would only take a few pieces from the battleship's plating to repair the recent damage to the royal chambers, but TA was interested in a full upgrade of the palace's defensive measures. Perhaps with armor strong enough he could finally earn himself a short break from the war, perhaps an hour or even half of one, to sit upon the roof while watching the clouds of Skaia and contemplate more peaceful times.

It was a pipe dream, of course. Not a second could be wasted in the tireless, futile effort against the white army. Without "constant vigil against the hordes of evil", as he remembered hearing seemingly so long ago when he signed up for the job of Royal Adviser, the "White Terror would sweep our people to ruin". After shoring up defenses, he would return to directing the armies of Derse just as he had for the last three weeks of combat. Or maybe he would be looking over new recruits to assign the constantly empty bureaucratic positions around him. Maybe he would be preparing a meal for his impossibly wise and just king. The only thing he was certain he would not be doing was sleeping.

TA's gloom was pierced, though, upon cresting the final hill between his band of salvagers and the wreck of the battleship, for at this point he saw something he had never seen before: a single pale figure was dragging his body from the wreckage of the ship. TA had never seen a survivor from a ship-crash before, but even more importantly the figure was... normal, despite having clearly come from the gnarled dreadnought behind it. Not a single decent creature had come from the labs of the Veil following the Heir's death... until now. Perhaps the nature of this newcomer's origin could be useful in determining exactly what had gone so wrong with the war, with the veil, and seemingly with the entire Medium.

TA closed his spyglass once again and gave new orders to the guards around him. Contact with the survivor was imperative.

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WORDS WORDS WORDS WORDS WORDS
(Also, in case you have not noticed, this takes place in the alternate-timeline in which John jets off to fight the denizen early and dies as a result)

Now hosted on AOOO

[A Fan]

A most intriguing opener. I love the idea of the Wounded Harlequin kernels degrading and the resulting lethal mutations in Battlefield reinforcements. (I guess the Queens' kernels are either more robust, less exposed, or simply don't enter into the story.)
The name match is obviously intentional, and I do look forward to seeing how you use it.

[sarasvati]

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The king had already risen for the day and was in the throne room at the time of the attack, and so once again had unwittingly evaded death. TA admired, if nothing else, his king's ability to avoid danger through no fault of his own.

(I love those lines particularly; they made me smile.)

It's interesting to see a what-if fic from a perspective that nobody's really gone in-depth on before, and that the repercussions of John's actions stretch further than just "whoops lost the game." GOD WAY TO FUCK EVERYTHING UP JOHN.

I look forward to the future parts!

[Vivus]

lost the game

DAMMIT I lost.

(One day I will make an on-topic post, but today is not the day.)

[orngjce223]

Preemptive.

/offtopic

[Gabu]

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Distortion, Chapter 5:
------

John had lost sight of the ambulance when a train had obstructed his path, but Rose gave him the directions from her smartphone. They were able to reach the correct hospital, and they all rushed in. John begged, pleaded with the receptionist to let them see their friend, but was outright denied.

“You gotta let us in!”

Jade added. “We've been friends for years! Please! He needs us!”

“Keep tellin' ya. Family only. Though you can wait in the waiting room over there in case his condition gets better.”

John sighed. “Ok, then…”

They all went into the waiting room and sat there, too busy in their thoughts to really talk to one another. The high amounts of stress felt in the last few hours was starting to get to them, and Rose and John agreed to take shifts while the other tried to sleep. Jade wanted to be a part of this, but fell asleep before she could voice her opinion. Midnight came, and John decided to take first shift. Anxiety gnawed at his stomach for a full two hours before he woke Rose up for her turn. She wanted to knit to pass the time, and had the material to do so, but aside from the want to sleep was shaking too much to hold the needles anyway. Rose heard whimpering, and turned her head. Both Jade and John seemed to be in a fitful sleep. She took the one ball of yarn she had and placed it right nest to Jade's face. Jade grabbed ahold of the ball and stopped making noise other than her quiet snoring. John would have to endure whatever bad dream he was having, Rose surmised. Finally, it was 4 AM. Time for John's shift.

“Hey, wake up.” She shook John awake.

“Oh God!” John had woken up crying.

“John? Are your inhibitions lowered from that fitful sleep?”

John clamped onto Rose. “Dave! He's dead! I should've stopped him! I didn't say anything! He's dead, Rose!”

Mothering instincts took over. “It was a dream, John. Just a bad dream. And even then, nobody could have guessed that his ailment was so severe.”

It took a while for Rose to effectively calm down John, and had to turn to comfort Jade when she stirred. John signaled to Rose that he was going outside to get some fresh air, and after a nod of approval, did so. He went outside, and realized how cold it had gotten, and he was still wearing only a t-shirt and jeans. It at least woke him up for his shift. A tall, slender man popped out from the corner, putting a flask in his coat chest pocket, when he spotted John.

“Yo, man. Cold?” John nodded. “Here, wanna sip?”

“No, I think I'm fine. I think… friend isn't doing too good…”

“I know how ya feel, bro. Little bro got it bad sometime earlier, an…”

“Hold on. Are you a Strider?”

“Yeah, man.”

---

“Hey, guys.” John woke Rose and Jade up, both sleeping on each other. “I found Dave's bro.”

Rose blinked, still half-asleep. “W-What?”

“Dave's brother. I found him outside. He's gonna see if we can visit Dave after the surgery.”

“That's great, John, an- what? Surgery?”

“He told me that he got his brain infected with some sort of bacteria, and it made this thing…”

“You mean a tumor?!” Jade shrieked.

“No! Not that at all! But it did make this abscess thing? I dunno, but apparently it put a lot of pressure on his brain and caused all that stuff wrong with him.”

“So what is the prognosis of our friend, John? He does take beatings with stride, hence why he's named Stri-“

“He's comatose.” Silence. “It was a mixture of the pressure, fever, and that seizure thing.”

“Did bro disclose how high the fever was?” Rose sounded frightened.

“No. All he said was it was the pressure. But it was pretty high.”

“John.” Rose twiddled her thumbs. “Dave…” She was at a loss of words. “He's probably not going to survive.”

John sat down and protectively held Jade while she cried on his shoulder. “Yeah. Maybe. But he's still breathing, and I'm not gonna give up on my bro that easily.”

“Y-yeah…” Jade sniffled. “All these things are happening to Dave, a-and they're scary, but I know he's gonna wake up.”

John smiled and yawned. “Sounds like the optimism we need.”

---

He could only hear what was going on. Slow beeps, inaudible murmurs, clanging of various tools he could not see. The pain was nonexistent, and it would be bothersome if he could gain access to that feeling, but his emotions were nonexistent. He could sort of feel his body, but it hadn't moved for so long that it felt numbed completely. Then his hearing faded, and all thought had ceased and was forgotten.

---

“Yo. Little bro's friends?” John, Rose and Jade woke up and saw the elder Strider walk up to them.

John snapped awake. “What happened?”

“Bro got outta surgery half an hour ago. Got dat thing drained like a bladder finally releasing its payload. He's getting medicine now, and I finally got dem to let you guys see ‘im.”

Jade popped awake. “Thank you!”

Rose rubbed her eyes. “Wait… didn't they have to shave his head or something?”

“Yeah, but it's cool, man. He's a street soldier anyhow. Been wantin' him to do dat anyway, but he was all ‘No, bro, dis hair be cool. It's irony, man!'. But dis makes it more ironic, ‘specially wit the army hat.”

Rose furrowed her brow. “Aren't you worried in the least that your younger brother may perish from all the cranial trauma?”

“Yeah, but my bro ain't a pussy.”

“God, both of you are impossible…” Rose muttered.

The four took the trek into the ICU, and after a couple of stops at various desks along the way, finally reached the room where Dave laid. Various monitors were hooked to his body, and an IV drip was steadily providing Dave a potentially life-saving medicine cocktail. An army hat was loosely affixed to Dave's head, and a smuppet was lying next to the fragile body on a table.

Rose was the first to comment. “My God, he looks so weak and helpless.”

“Yeah.” John added. “How long will he be like this?”

“Potentially as short as an hour, or as long as a lifetime.”

Bro scoffed. “Nah. He's gonna wake up soon. Like I said, he ain't no pussy!”

“Yeah, I'm sure it's only gonna be a couple of days.” Jade smiled.

“Now's not the time to be optimistic about it, Jade.” Rose sighed.

John spoke up. “Yeah, but Jade has that future-seeing gift and shit, so I'm gonna stick by my bro, Rose.”

Rose thought about this, and finally nodded in agreement. It wasn't as though Jade was totally wrong about these kinds of things before.

---

Voices. He couldn't make them out, couldn't tell exactly who was talking. But they came and went in a seemingly patternous manner, at least to Dave. Something was definitely wrong, but his lifeless shell and even inner workings could not allow anything more than a tingling sensation.

He heard the voices again, and simply sensed and instantly forgot about it. But he was starting to pick out words from the muddle, and the tingling became a more tangible sensation. Dave exhaled a soft moan, and he started feeling not only his body, but the bed as well.

“Dave?”

Dave couldn't tell exactly who that was, only that it was masculine. His feeble attempts of movement seemed to excite these voices, so he kept persisting. They were becoming clear, and he could begin to see light.

“Wake up, bro.”

“Come on, Strider!”

“You can do it!”

“Come back, Dave.”

He focused all efforts to open his eyes, and through the cheering on, finally did. Four faces, two girls, two guys, looked at him in a cautiously excited manner. One of them, a guy with square glasses, spoke.

“How you feeling, Dave?”

His thoughts still had a sticky, muddy feel to them. “Crap.”

One of the girls started talking. “Strider, are you feeling any sort of pain as a result of either the abcess or the resulting surgery?”

“What?”

The other girl piped up. “She's saying if your head hurts.”

“Yeah… a bit.” Something was bugging him.

“I told ya, man. Butchu' look on the up and up.”

“Thanks. Uhh…” It was beginning to sink in, but he ignored it. “How long was I out?”

The black haired girl answered. “Today's Friday, Dave. Five days.”

Dave grimaced. “Dag, man.” Realization began to kick in. “Oh God…”

The first guy talked. “What's wrong? Are you in pain? We can do something about that.”

“No. No pain.” Oh God, not this.

The first girl piped up. “What, Strider?”

“I should know who you are, but I don't know you guys faces.”

---

John could tell his friends' enthusiasm was replaced with panic, himself included. He couldn't believe Dave got amnesia. It was stupid, and there was no way this was happening. John blurted out the first t hing he could think of.

“Do you remember our chumhandles? Ectobiologist? Ring a bell?”

A surprising answer. “Yeah, man. John has that screenname.”

“What about Rose and Jade? …Bro?”

“Ugh…” somehow John thought it was hurting Dave's head. “tentacleTherapist, gardenGnostic, and broliathStrider, when on AIM.”

John couldn't wrap his mind around this. “Do you recognize me as John?”

“I told ya. I don't recognize any of you, though you do seem to act like John.”

John was going to respond, but Rose tapped him on the shoulder. “We shouldn't be overloading his cerebrum with all these questions, regardless of if he knows the answers. He needs rest.”

“Okay, Rose.” John turned to Dave. “We're gonna let you rest now, buddy. And don't worry about your memory. It'll come back, and you'll be back to normal!”

“…Kay.” Dave sounded distant, almost lost in thought.

Dave really did feel tired, and despite his escalating sense of terror, he nudged it to the side as he drifted off. He was seriously hoping that this was one of those weird dream within a dream situations.

[I-gor]

As usual, this story is awesome. Don't ever stop writing.

[sarasvati]

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Distortion, Chapter 5:
------

John had lost sight of the ambulance when a train had obstructed his path, but Rose gave him the directions from her smartphone. They were able to reach the correct hospital, and they all rushed in. John begged, pleaded with the receptionist to let them see their friend, but was outright denied.

“You gotta let us in!”

Jade added. “We've been friends for years! Please! He needs us!”

“Keep tellin' ya. Family only. Though you can wait in the waiting room over there in case his condition gets better.”

John sighed. “Ok, then…”

They all went into the waiting room and sat there, too busy in their thoughts to really talk to one another. The high amounts of stress felt in the last few hours was starting to get to them, and Rose and John agreed to take shifts while the other tried to sleep. Jade wanted to be a part of this, but fell asleep before she could voice her opinion. Midnight came, and John decided to take first shift. Anxiety gnawed at his stomach for a full two hours before he woke Rose up for her turn. She wanted to knit to pass the time, and had the material to do so, but aside from the want to sleep was shaking too much to hold the needles anyway. Rose heard whimpering, and turned her head. Both Jade and John seemed to be in a fitful sleep. She took the one ball of yarn she had and placed it right nest to Jade's face. Jade grabbed ahold of the ball and stopped making noise other than her quiet snoring. John would have to endure whatever bad dream he was having, Rose surmised. Finally, it was 4 AM. Time for John's shift.

“Hey, wake up.” She shook John awake.

“Oh God!” John had woken up crying.

“John? Are your inhibitions lowered from that fitful sleep?”

John clamped onto Rose. “Dave! He's dead! I should've stopped him! I didn't say anything! He's dead, Rose!”

Mothering instincts took over. “It was a dream, John. Just a bad dream. And even then, nobody could have guessed that his ailment was so severe.”

It took a while for Rose to effectively calm down John, and had to turn to comfort Jade when she stirred. John signaled to Rose that he was going outside to get some fresh air, and after a nod of approval, did so. He went outside, and realized how cold it had gotten, and he was still wearing only a t-shirt and jeans. It at least woke him up for his shift. A tall, slender man popped out from the corner, putting a flask in his coat chest pocket, when he spotted John.

“Yo, man. Cold?” John nodded. “Here, wanna sip?”

“No, I think I'm fine. I think… friend isn't doing too good…”

“I know how ya feel, bro. Little bro got it bad sometime earlier, an…”

“Hold on. Are you a Strider?”

“Yeah, man.”

---

“Hey, guys.” John woke Rose and Jade up, both sleeping on each other. “I found Dave's bro.”

Rose blinked, still half-asleep. “W-What?”

“Dave's brother. I found him outside. He's gonna see if we can visit Dave after the surgery.”

“That's great, John, an- what? Surgery?”

“He told me that he got his brain infected with some sort of bacteria, and it made this thing…”

“You mean a tumor?!” Jade shrieked.

“No! Not that at all! But it did make this abscess thing? I dunno, but apparently it put a lot of pressure on his brain and caused all that stuff wrong with him.”

“So what is the prognosis of our friend, John? He does take beatings with stride, hence why he's named Stri-“

“He's comatose.” Silence. “It was a mixture of the pressure, fever, and that seizure thing.”

“Did bro disclose how high the fever was?” Rose sounded frightened.

“No. All he said was it was the pressure. But it was pretty high.”

“John.” Rose twiddled her thumbs. “Dave…” She was at a loss of words. “He's probably not going to survive.”

John sat down and protectively held Jade while she cried on his shoulder. “Yeah. Maybe. But he's still breathing, and I'm not gonna give up on my bro that easily.”

“Y-yeah…” Jade sniffled. “All these things are happening to Dave, a-and they're scary, but I know he's gonna wake up.”

John smiled and yawned. “Sounds like the optimism we need.”

---

He could only hear what was going on. Slow beeps, inaudible murmurs, clanging of various tools he could not see. The pain was nonexistent, and it would be bothersome if he could gain access to that feeling, but his emotions were nonexistent. He could sort of feel his body, but it hadn't moved for so long that it felt numbed completely. Then his hearing faded, and all thought had ceased and was forgotten.

---

“Yo. Little bro's friends?” John, Rose and Jade woke up and saw the elder Strider walk up to them.

John snapped awake. “What happened?”

“Bro got outta surgery half an hour ago. Got dat thing drained like a bladder finally releasing its payload. He's getting medicine now, and I finally got dem to let you guys see ‘im.”

Jade popped awake. “Thank you!”

Rose rubbed her eyes. “Wait… didn't they have to shave his head or something?”

“Yeah, but it's cool, man. He's a street soldier anyhow. Been wantin' him to do dat anyway, but he was all ‘No, bro, dis hair be cool. It's irony, man!'. But dis makes it more ironic, ‘specially wit the army hat.”

Rose furrowed her brow. “Aren't you worried in the least that your younger brother may perish from all the cranial trauma?”

“Yeah, but my bro ain't a pussy.”

“God, both of you are impossible…” Rose muttered.

The four took the trek into the ICU, and after a couple of stops at various desks along the way, finally reached the room where Dave laid. Various monitors were hooked to his body, and an IV drip was steadily providing Dave a potentially life-saving medicine cocktail. An army hat was loosely affixed to Dave's head, and a smuppet was lying next to the fragile body on a table.

Rose was the first to comment. “My God, he looks so weak and helpless.”

“Yeah.” John added. “How long will he be like this?”

“Potentially as short as an hour, or as long as a lifetime.”

Bro scoffed. “Nah. He's gonna wake up soon. Like I said, he ain't no pussy!”

“Yeah, I'm sure it's only gonna be a couple of days.” Jade smiled.

“Now's not the time to be optimistic about it, Jade.” Rose sighed.

John spoke up. “Yeah, but Jade has that future-seeing gift and shit, so I'm gonna stick by my bro, Rose.”

Rose thought about this, and finally nodded in agreement. It wasn't as though Jade was totally wrong about these kinds of things before.

---

Voices. He couldn't make them out, couldn't tell exactly who was talking. But they came and went in a seemingly patternous manner, at least to Dave. Something was definitely wrong, but his lifeless shell and even inner workings could not allow anything more than a tingling sensation.

He heard the voices again, and simply sensed and instantly forgot about it. But he was starting to pick out words from the muddle, and the tingling became a more tangible sensation. Dave exhaled a soft moan, and he started feeling not only his body, but the bed as well.

“Dave?”

Dave couldn't tell exactly who that was, only that it was masculine. His feeble attempts of movement seemed to excite these voices, so he kept persisting. They were becoming clear, and he could begin to see light.

“Wake up, bro.”

“Come on, Strider!”

“You can do it!”

“Come back, Dave.”

He focused all efforts to open his eyes, and through the cheering on, finally did. Four faces, two girls, two guys, looked at him in a cautiously excited manner. One of them, a guy with square glasses, spoke.

“How you feeling, Dave?”

His thoughts still had a sticky, muddy feel to them. “Crap.”

One of the girls started talking. “Strider, are you feeling any sort of pain as a result of either the abcess or the resulting surgery?”

“What?”

The other girl piped up. “She's saying if your head hurts.”

“Yeah… a bit.” Something was bugging him.

“I told ya, man. Butchu' look on the up and up.”

“Thanks. Uhh…” It was beginning to sink in, but he ignored it. “How long was I out?”

The black haired girl answered. “Today's Friday, Dave. Five days.”

Dave grimaced. “Dag, man.” Realization began to kick in. “Oh God…”

The first guy talked. “What's wrong? Are you in pain? We can do something about that.”

“No. No pain.” Oh God, not this.

The first girl piped up. “What, Strider?”

“I should know who you are, but I don't know you guys faces.”

---

John could tell his friends' enthusiasm was replaced with panic, himself included. He couldn't believe Dave got amnesia. It was stupid, and there was no way this was happening. John blurted out the first t hing he could think of.

“Do you remember our chumhandles? Ectobiologist? Ring a bell?”

A surprising answer. “Yeah, man. John has that screenname.”

“What about Rose and Jade? …Bro?”

“Ugh…” somehow John thought it was hurting Dave's head. “tentacleTherapist, gardenGnostic, and broliathStrider, when on AIM.”

John couldn't wrap his mind around this. “Do you recognize me as John?”

“I told ya. I don't recognize any of you, though you do seem to act like John.”

John was going to respond, but Rose tapped him on the shoulder. “We shouldn't be overloading his cerebrum with all these questions, regardless of if he knows the answers. He needs rest.”

“Okay, Rose.” John turned to Dave. “We're gonna let you rest now, buddy. And don't worry about your memory. It'll come back, and you'll be back to normal!”

“…Kay.” Dave sounded distant, almost lost in thought.

Dave really did feel tired, and despite his escalating sense of terror, he nudged it to the side as he drifted off. He was seriously hoping that this was one of those weird dream within a dream situations.

ohhhhhh nooooooooo daaaaaave. DDDD:

I don't think he's suffered enough yet, Gabu. You know what that means, right? MORE.

[Valter]

Gabu, I know Dave's an insufferable prick and all

But this seems a little bit extreme

Chapter two
(chapter one is like six responses up so I'm not linking to it, bluh)

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AM had the dubious distinction of having the most violent birth the Skaian war had seen so far. Being spawned in free-fall was troublesome enough, but the crash that followed put even the terrifying first few minutes of his life to shame.

AM survived the fall and the crash, but his position was hardly any better for it. The... ship (although it could hardly be called a ship now) that he had spawned in was now a mass of twisted metal and jagged edges that spread out around him in all directions. Escape would be difficult, but was nonetheless the only option; AM did not intend to spend any more time with his mangled comrades than he needed to.

Five minutes were spent gathering the willpower required to move. The next three minutes were spent reaching a nearby severed cable, and another minute was taken fashioning an improvised grappling hook with it and some of the metal strewn around. The next hour was spent reaching the beam of light cracking through a small gap in the ship's exterior. He was quite exhausted by the time he reached the exit, but his thoughts were more preoccupied with the fact that he was alive at all, and at this rate might even continue being alive well into the future.

His jubilation was cut short immediately after leaving the ship behind him, though; the only thing his hard work had earned him was trading one coffin for a far larger one.

~~~

The TIRED ADVISER made the final approach to the wrecked ship in front of him, pausing only to wonder at the enormous size of it. It was quite nearly twice the size of the largest battleship he had seen before this point, and he hoped it would be the only one of this size that he would ever see. If enough boats like that fell out of the sky, the Reckoning could find itself preempted!

Putting thoughts of naval apocalypse aside for the moment, TA gestured to the one guard that had remained with him. The guard obligingly took out his arc cutter and began working on the metal in front of him. For the first salvaging mission, only a small piece of metal was required, to determine its capacity for use in defense. This hadn't always been the case, but Engineering had decided not to take any more chances after a faulty batch of plating that was retrieved from one broken warship quite literally crumbled into powder during a later attack.

TA allowed himself a short smile at this memory, and left the arc cutter to his work. The rest of his convoy had already been sent to encircle the area that the strange survivor had wandered off to. With them on watch, the stranger would not be capable of leaving the area without TA knowing. TA took a cursory look at the location through his spyglass, and set off to join the search.

~~~

AM had been spawned from the factories of the Veil, and as such was endowed with certain knowledge of the Medium even before he was born. The ravaged landscape in front of him was apparently Skaia, then, although he could not be sure of anything; the descriptions he had of "the dormant crucible of unlimited creative potential" failed to mention the piles of corpses and broken machinery strewn as far as he could see, nor the bloodied rivers and the sullen fires burning in the distance.

He made his way to a nearby scrap yard. If there were any other Skaians still alive on this planet, they would probably prefer to live amongst the dead machinery rather than the dead comrades. The scrap was mostly wires and metal, but occasionally helpful items could be found. He managed to salvage a canteen, a sword, and several simple mechanical tools from the first two scrap piles he found, and he was rounding a third when he came face-to-face with the first living Skaian he had met in his (admittedly short) lifetime.

~~~

TA was quite at a loss of words for the stranger in front of him. This was clearly far more important a discovery than he had first thought.

The stranger had a dark gray complexion, and he (yes, definitely a he) wore a suit not unlike the standard Dersian battle garb, except that it was entirely in shades of brown. He carried his sword with all of the airs of a Skaian who had never been in a single fight in his life, and he stared back at TA with a look that indicated that he had found exactly what he wanted and had no idea what to do with it.

After a short bout of staring, TA was quite flustered to remember that the stranger had very recently been born, and probably knew nothing of the current state of conflict on Skaia. He unclasped his cloak and offered it to the newcomer, in the hope of setting his nerves at ease. It apparently worked, as the stranger began to follow him (although he remained in a state of unsettling quiet throughout).

The arc cutter finished soon thereafter, and TA gathered the guards, setting off to return to the palace with his new guest in tow. Two discoveries had been made today! The king.... Well, the king would probably not be interested in his work, but this remained to be the first day in the last three weeks that he had felt even remotely interested in the tasks ahead of him, and he refused to let his ruler's odious personality ruin his mood.

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BLUH BLUH MORE WORDS

This is taking a bit longer to write than I expected it to.

Head to AOOO for the rest

[Zuki]

Gabu, you've pretty well got the "Bad things happen to the kids OH NOESS and then there is DRAMA" genre nailed down.

I really like it.

[Shaon]

AUGH SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG

FIRST OFF I read everything that's been posted in this thread so far and I love all of it!! But these are things that really stood out to me:

Ho man.

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So Hass created cG and all the other trolls, or just cG?
And did he create Jade, too? Oh man that is really confusing, and I can't wait to see where this goes.

Good story!

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This is something I am now planning on expanding more on! Thanks for the slight change in plans, it's giving me incentive to write something pretty fun.

mind-blowingly awesome fic

This right here is the best homestuck fanfic I've read. It makes me crave for so much more from you. Good show!

In Which Twelve Trolls Ascend

I remember you talking about this in #pesterlite some time ago? I'm definitely a person interested in troll-worldbuilding and would definitely like to see more of this.

Prologue
One
Two
Three
The Thirteenth: Four

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EB: i.
EB: what is this.

John lost any sense he had gained in the scarce few minutes since this seemingly dead girl had blocked him.

TT: It appears to be a rather high-quality scan of some ten year old obituary of a girl that by all rights has the same name and a nigh-on identical appearance to our Jade.
TT: It would be likely, then, to conclude that the Jade we all know and love is an impostor.
EB: i
TT: The only flaw in this, of course, is rather major.
TT: She's the person who linked me to that photo.
TT: The information all checks out, too- she shows up on various online obituaries that serve the region in which I live.
TT: But some sinister middle-aged pedophile posing as a thirteen year old girl would have absolutely no motivation to just suddenly stop and expose themselves.
TT: There is something behind this that we don't know yet.

All throughout Rose's excited analysis, the only thing John could do was stare at the picture. Read its text. It registered but only in an abstract way. The girl in the photo looked like Jade, but she also didn't. There was some sort of subtle difference that he just couldn't-

"Excuse me, John; could you move?"

John shook his head, temporarily banishing the computer overlay from his glasses. In front of him stood a stout, mustachioed man wearing an outfit that would far better fit in a safari than in this dank, abandoned laboratory. Momentarily stunned, John wordlessly moved away from the test tube. The man stood up close to the tube, adjusted his glasses, and tapped the glass. The black pawn-esque creature held inside twitched away from the man's hand. Seemingly satisfied, the man typed a short code into a nearby keypad. Various cords disconnected from the creature and the entire contents of the tube, liquid and all, abruptly disappearified.

"It is good to talk to you face to face after such a long time, John. You have grown up to be quite the young man," the man said, moving on to repeat the same actions to another test tube.

"Who are-" John stuttered out.

"Ah, right, right. You were so young when you last visited me, not to mention I look nothing like this."

"What are-"

The man paused in his work briefly to look at him from the corner of his eye. "Remember that you're in a game, John! This is only my avatar."

He turned and walked up to John, holding his hand out for a handshake. "Hass Harley, head of AI Development for Skaianet."

John hesitatingly put his comparatively tiny hand against the man's and shook. He had a very firm grip and the shake was very quick, like he was always busy with something.

"It's not even really a department, AI Dev. Just myself and a group of interns taking my work to adapt for the Guides..." Hass quickly returned to his work, rambling in a way completely contrary to his appearance. "Why couldn't we get the interns to launch these pawns, I ask? I would be better off observing the game and keeping bugs from rearing their ugly heads. Just you watch: some bishop is going to go insane and lop the heads off all its teammates and I won't be there to stop them."

"I-" John had trouble managing to interrupt the man but after much struggling finally managed to get a sentence in. "You're Jade's grandfather?"

Hass paused in his work yet again. He turned to look at John, a twinkle in his eyes and a smile on his face. "Ahh, yes," he said, "you're part of Jade's group, aren't you. I trust she's been treating you well?"

He began to ramble on about his granddaughter rather than the inner workings of Skaianet. John was much quicker to interrupt this time around.

"There's something wrong with Jade," he said, quickly.

The smile on Hass's face vanished immediately. "What happened?"

"Sh- she suddenly started acting weird and blocked me and..." John swallowed. It felt like saying it out loud would cement the fact, cement the confusion. "She linked us to her obituary," he managed, his voice weakening.

Hass sendificated the last of the pawns. "Pushing herself away. She really is Ophiuchus."

"Is she-" John couldn't speak the idea.

"Jade left our world -- the real world, the one that we were born in and live in and die in, not this simulation -- ten years ago. But... through your father's mastery of ectobiology and my work in programming, she lives here. In the Incipisphere."

[Rodergaut]

TT: But some sinister middle-aged pedophile posing as a thirteen year old girl would have absolutely no motivation to just suddenly stop and expose themselves.

y-you might want to rephrase that.

[Vivus]

TT: But some sinister middle-aged pedophile posing as a thirteen year old girl would have absolutely no motivation to just suddenly stop and expose themselves.

y-you might want to rephrase that.

I fully support this (likely) unintentional pun.