MSPA fan-fiction

[Orange]

The River
(Or "God Damn It: In Which Gods Are Damned")
Chapter 3: Amphibious Subterrain & Clockwork Contrivance

Seer:

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Rose was sincerely and visibly surprised. Saying that however would be putting it somewhat lightly. It was more appropriate to say that she was highly disconcerted. Were she a replication of herself making observations, she would have to say she was also concerned for her sanity. And analogies like those didn't help.

She recalled something, then. In the darkness of her room, a memory seemingly primal and yet so recent indeed, disturbed the waters of her mind with hints of a vague, dangerous undercurrent.

JASPERSPRITE: All the life in the ocean and all the shiny rain and the songs in your head and the letters they make.
JASPERSPRITE: A beam of light i think is like a drop of rain or a long piece of yarn that dances around when you play with it and make it look enticing!
JASPERSPRITE: And the way that it shakes is the same as what makes notes in a song!
JASPERSPRITE: And a song i think can be written down as letters.
JASPERSPRITE: So if you play the right song and it makes all the right letters then those letters could be all the letters that make life possible.
JASPERSPRITE: So all you have to do is wake up and learn to play the rain!

She almost grasped something, something extremely intricate and relevant to the unknowable manic waltz of the game's underlying plot. It was almost in her reach, the tip of her tongue, the edge of her mind, just outside her periphrey--

Her room was almost pitch black. That's definitely what was different. Any other time she would've berated herself, and fun would be had by all. Or maybe just Dave. But right now she was more horrified. What sigh could possibly be waiting for her out her bedroom window? Had all the stars in the universe suddenly faltered in some cataclysmic cosmic wind, flickering one last time before fading out completely while she slept? Was her room some kind of... relativity-bending paradox, the last remnant of all that ever was, leaving her alone in a universe of her own, surrounded by darkness?

As she wondered, she made her way as slow as could be toward the window in question. If she actually thought about going to look, after all, she would never from that spot. So instead she kept thinking of all the things she might glimpse out in the abyss, if an abyss was what it was.

Rose rested her hands against the reinforced glass, searching with eyes full of hope that were on the brink of-- what, exactly? Another emotion. Some kind of embryonic state of mad resignation, some sociopathy with herself that threatened to detach and become something of it's own kind were she to accept this as the end.

Something so filled with hate it would scale the space between nothing and something.

And just as quickly as the feeling raged in, it dissipated into nothing, as did every other thought in her head, leaving only sheer awe at what she was seeing, what she was staring at. Briefly, a very small part of her noted that she may have already gone off the deep end, considering:

Crossing the face of the window were bio-luminescent creatures; strange, ethereal looking beasts of, at times immense size and yet at others immeasurably small. It was quite literally breathtaking, and in those blissfully childlike moments Rose Lalonde felt nothing but wonder as she gazed upon their lazy strides, their graceful to-and-fro, and their boundless curiosity at this window into some new, strange world that contained only a little girl.

It would appear, then, that she was underwater.

"Correct, young Seer."

Of all the creatures in what was, she now realized, a sea so massive that she must surely be at the bottom of it-- of all the creatures to dwell in these abyssal depths, the voice that spoke out to her came from one that did not seem to glow at all. Her eyes struggled to focus on the shape behind so many gigantic and minuscule creatures, and all at once her mind cried out for a rational world, one where she could look in at least one direction and have things make sense.

There beyond the shimmering, glowing beasts, behind krill, fish and other things indescribable, was a giant turtle, swimming toward her. Rose felt as if she was going to hyper-ventilate any moment now, but her body shivered violently at the prospect of going back to sleep any time soon.

"Y-you're one of my Consorts, aren't you?"
"Correct, young Seer."

Rose had barely even exhaled the words, speaking more to herself than anything, but the thing had read her mind, after all. Her speech, however soft-spoken or gently breathed, would no doubt be heard. No sooner had she realized this than she thought she heard the faint echo or perhaps a thought shared across minds in reply: "Correct, young Seer."

"I can scarcely see you, my humble Consort," she spoke, regaining her confidence at a pace akin to molasses. "...amongst all of these luminescent creatures. I would prefer that I could set eyes upon you, and speak with you in earnest. Is there any way that we can abscond to the surface?"
"Yes, young Seer."

Her room lurched so suddenly she fell to her feet, and her nerves set on edge without warning; her mind frantic at having lost sight of the world outside her window. She was terrified now, to gaze out of her porthole once more. The world might not be where she left it. It was a silly thought, and in her chest she felt horribly giddy, a lunacy-laced laughed escaping her lips.

Rose scrambled for the window, and looked out. Nothing seemed to have change, save for the positions of a few of the fish illuminating the darkness. The Turtle seemed to be staring at her from the side, as it had before; fins bobbing lazily as if rowing across a lake. She felt a sensation as if she was sinking further down somehow, and hastily shot a look out the window, gazing down into the dark below.

And there in the depths, she saw the black-on-black silhouette of an enormous turtle fin, carrying her up from the sea floor.

Knight:

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Dave was pretty god damn sure that Rose's planet didn't have any life on it. That was it's whole quirk. Her Denizen was supposed to have eaten all the fish in the whole damn sea, just shoving his face full like some kind of sushi genocide.

And no, even when they finally got the whole visu-link thing up and running and they could see each other's planets, all whoopin' and cheerin' like the fuckin' Mars Rover wasn't offline after all and was about to do some kind of heartwarming as shit sequel to Wall-E-- even then, he didn't really question it. There were things that were a hell of a lot more important to think about other than these floating, rainbow-spewing turtle shells at the moment.

So the lack of any large islands bugged him a bit. Probably more than he let on. That was a pretty normal occurrence. The amount of life he could see on the world however bugged him exactly as much as he let on: a metric fuckton. The waters were very clear; seemingly dirty from far away but up close it was obvious that there was just so many fucking things living in the water. He expected that this was what the world might look like if...

If there were no such things as the Denizens.

"Holy shit," he thought. "What if..." It was a senseless question, because there would always been those kind of things on these planets. That was how they worked. They were game planets. Levels, basically. You got in, bounced off a mechanical bug here and there, grabbed some rings or coins or some shit, bitch-slapped a fat guy in a hovercraft and got the hell out of there. Without the game mechanics, the worlds were basically just planets teeming with life and lacking any sort of predators, as far as he could tell.

The boysprite flew over the planet with idle interest, wondering what brought him back here. Something told him that this might be part of the game, that it was all very integral and maybe important, but then he didn't really know much about what he was supposed to be doing. For sure he was supposed to be dishin' out some wicked informative shit. Wouldn't even need a high school diploma with his kind of intel; just walk into a building and be all, "Nah, we're all gravy, this cool guy Dave told me what's goin' on" and next thing you know you're running the god damn business.

But Dave-- the real Dave-- hadn't asked him anything. He wasn't entirely sure the dude could even pester him where he was. He figured it should be possible, by all rights. His sprite-brain told him it was. But he wasn't going to stress on that shit right now. That shit can go ahead and sit in the waiting room. He's got some other patients to deal with.

And before he could think about what he should do as a kernelsprite on a Denizen-less planet, he saw something of in the distance that caught his avian eyes.

A familiar looking building, raising from up out of the ocean.

[Rodergaut]

Hmm, you're right. I guess the species got mixed up. I'll go fix it tomorrow. Also, what do you mean by pots and pans?

When I've fixed it, should I edit the old post or repost the new version?

Well, I sort of expected him to be a bit of a tinker.

[superplough]

There are many amazing fanfics in this thread!

There are so many in fact that I have a hard time keeping track of them all, and end up confusing them with each other/merging them all in my head

[Friendly_Troll]

Cross posted with RomArt!

Remember that fic did before? Withthe creepy cT/aT intonations? Dooooo ya~?

PART TWO!

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It was becoming a routine.
If pressed, it was likely that neither party would desire or be able to explain it. But in a way, a lack of occupation was at least partially to blame. Not much to do aside from futile trolling attempts. And tension were running high in those grey halls.

It didn't help that neither of them slept. And few people wanted to, or had time to bother talking to them. Although both probably bothered Tavros a little more...

Sleep had been something of a respite for him... now it was just... dark. And somehow he never felt very rested. So he;d just kind of... stopped, for the most part. He slept for a little while when he started to get headachy, but that was about it.

It was during those quest hours, when everyone was asleep... okay, no Aradia never slept. Bus she was kind of scary and made Tavros sort of sad to be around. And she never made much sound. So, even though... even though *he* was really scary too... in those empty hours, when everyone else was asleep...

There would drift the sounds of metal scraping against metal... and despite himself, he would end up drifting closer... he'd tell himself it was just because no one else was awake, or that he wasn't going to get any closer...

It wasn't anything *weird* or anything. Aside from the... um. Horse... noises. Or the...um...uh. Other... thing. That made him kind of upset just thinking about. Other then that he just sorta watched him work... or sometimes cT would ask him to move some big weird machine things.

Tavros walked down the grey hallway, under the sterile, flickering lights. Just around the corner was the blue blood's domain. He was just going to make sure he was... um. Okay. Because... they were all in this together, right? Just a quick peek, and then he;d turn around and-

"You're late."

Aaaaaaah fffffffff the hell how does he do that?!

The slightest of smirks crossed cT's face as Tavros jumped, tossing aside a broken piece of scavenged machinery. There was no shortage of broken, run down, or useless machinery there... were it not for the company, it might have been paradise.

...also were it not for all of them being destined to *die*, he supposed. Details.

He didn't bother turning around as Tavros approached- that was how this went. The simpleton at least seemed to understand that that was his place in this. It was his place to approach, and do as he was told.

cT would never even consider seeking out the lowblood, of course. Not even for a minute. Especially not if he had failed to show up at the usual time. Although he was sure if he *did* it would be for a perfectly sensible reason. After all, if anyone could find some last trace of *risk* it was this large horned, idealistic f001.

After all. he couldn't allow the work on his replacement limbs to go to waste, of course.

"Um, i don;t think there's a set time i usually stop by here... but sorry i guess?" Tavros took another step inside, hesitant... as always.

"You wait approximately a half an hour after the last of the others succumb to exhaustion. Except for Sollux, who will not tolerate you any longer, and Aradia, who frightens you." he turned now, wiping thick machine oil off of his arms with a rag.

"u-Um... " He had... kept track? That was kind of... like wierd and sort of creepy but also felt sort of weird in a way Tavros didn't think he understood all the way...

....he hadn't thought *anyone* was bothering to keep track of him anymore.

"Don't bother. For that matter the more you can refrain from speaking the better." he snapped, pointing a screwdriver in his direction. For that matter...

He snarled, baring his jagged fangs- making Tavros flinch reflexively- stepping back, and making a slight grinding noise from the machinery...

"I knew it... you've already been wearing the suspension out... or perhaps the hinges. What have you been- no, shut up! I do not under any circumstances actually need to know... SIT!" Tavros' legs folded quickly, spurred by the way cT was slamming the contents of his silladex around...

cT grabbed his ankle before he could soot away, flipping open the maintenance hatch he had installed...

"W-what are you doing?!"

"What does it look like? I'm repairing your legs you-"

"Nononono, WHY are you repairing them THERE?!" cT slowly glared up at him, and glanced down again- raising an eyebrow contemptuously.

"Because that;s where the panel is. The amount of stress being placed near the connection to your lower jointial plates is imperative to-"

"Not what I meeeean!" Tavros sat up sharply, pushing the roboticist blue blood back- winding up, due to a quirk of troll instincts, forehead-to forehead. it hadn't been *intended* as an agressive move, just Tavros had been sitting up, and now his horns were all locked against his, and he still had his *hand* all...

"Why is it on my thigh?!

The resulting awkward silence might have continued for some time, had it not suddenly been punctuated rather spectacularly by the sound of a sickle hitting the ground, and Karkats look of somewhat bewildered horror.

Disclaimer: it's only on his *thigh*. Nothing untoward8actualy*happens here. No matter what Karkat keeps telling everyone, dammit.

[sarasvati]

Holy CHRIST you guys, this thread is like exploding now. TWO FICS WERE POSTED WHILE I WAS TYPING THIS UP FFFFF. (edit: THREE FICS FFFFF)

working backwards!:

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Orange: hooray, a story about the kids! I was hoping you'd do something like this. I like the idea behind it, and the split-structure you're running even more. I think you've got Rose down pretty pat, and I like the narrative style in her sections; it's flowing but at the same time orderly, organized, and very, very much Rose.

phrases I like:
He thinks it's about that long; in reality it's exactly that long. He doesn't pay much attention to the numbers.
"Good thing I've gotten the hang of this 'previously on Nobody Listens to Strider' shit," he whispers to himself in an almost conspiratorial tone, languidly drawing the timevinyls back with a single finger.
Once more, then. With feeling.

My only issue with your take on Dave in prose-narrative form is how heavy-handed it is. It is very layered with all of his gimmicks to the point of being too much, I think. I mean, kid cusses up storms inside storms, but not that much! In the end, it all sounds very "try hard;" like you're pressuring yourself to write him as funny, when really, the most humor that comes out of Dave is through his natural quick wit. If the dialogue doesn't sound like it comes out all on its own, he loses his appeal.

(and hello yes here I am! so so so busy, but I knew you guys wouldn't miss me with all the amazing fic coming down the tubes. My backlog is still sitting three weeks high so I haven't gotten around to your fics yet, but I will, I promise!)

Cathartes: This is kind of an adorable concept and I'm looking forward to seeing more (let's face it, I have such a huge writer-crush on worldbuilding). The only thing I would change at all is how out of place super modern slang looks in the narration, stuff like "cool" and "dork" and "awesome." It breaks the immersion, I think. Other than that, though, this is pretty solid stuff.

NewMars: I think I missed the first part of this in the deluge of fics I still haven't caught up on but not knowing what the fuck is going on has never stopped me before so I read this anyway. It's weird seeing a Homestuck-style original story without nonstop pesterlogs! That's a bit of fresh air. Between all the heavy prose, though, I'm having a hard time pinning down the character beyond a handful of interests and a vague sensation of discontent.

Ember: whoa femslash! We don't get a whole lot of that around here. (actually have we ever gotten any of it around here before??) I love the AG/Aradia one the most, I think, if only because it pushes across some hard characterization in just a couple short lines, and the last line of it is chilling. Also have I mentioned that I love it when pretty things get broken. (because I do.)

Tenebrais: I'm a sucker for bittersweet endings and this is just the right balance. I think the idea of trolls and the kids chilling together is cute as all hell (assuming they don't kill each other), and the new-day note makes the whole "whoops everyone else is dead" thing go down a little easier.

Summergale: YES SADFIC. Sollux being completely unaware that Aradia is dead is seriously just the most depressing thing ever I love it.

Friendly_Troll: Your MC/Felt stories were weird-cute-kindofhot??, but for some reason I love the CT one the best. Holy god what a creeper. You nailed that shit.
edit: CT IS STILL A BIT OF A CREEPER. I think the undertones are kind of sweet, that CT digs Tavros' company and would never admit it, and Tavros digs his and would probably admit it but that's just how he is.

DocBeard: RECONSTRUCTIVE SURGERY. FUCK. Lucky for me, you crafty guy, that I got to read it before you took it down! I'm going to throw in my (huge long rambling wordy) two cents, but I don't have a fic to refer to mid-ramble for specifics argh. Sadly you are probably already in the midst of hacking it apart by the time you read this.

1.) I had a hard time nailing the "kind of weird" vibe as addressed by Tenebrais and Raiser. I felt that the split between Rose's writing and the story proper was incredibly obvious, and I genuinely loved the dissonant juxtaposition between the scenes. The build up to the deflation was suitably Rose, who waxes dramatic over the smallest, most mundane things, so the "lost" epic feel as soon as the baseball hit the laptop was hardly lost at all. "Oh, it was just Rose, it's so hilarious how she makes a huge deal out of this." I also felt that it was suitably Homestuck, this jerking about of expectations and emotions; it's hard to capture in a story how something can break your heart and have you grinning five paragraphs later. I feel like you accomplished this.

2.) In the end, even at sixteen, they're still kids--they're still awkward, goofy, lanky, fumbling kids who joke around and have fun, which is even more important to establish, I think, in the face of the fact that they can't ever go back home. (There's that bittersweet ending stuff again that I just adore.) You did this terrifically. At this point, they've lived together for years, and they're as much a family as anything. After that long together in a tightly-knit, near constant contact environment, I would think that everyone has grown comfortable with everyone. What's in character for a Dave who's rocking death and battle and quick fix tourniquets isn't going to be in character for a Dave who's spent the last couple years in a presumably less stressful environment with people he's grown very close to. A tickle fight with Jade--whether romantic or friendly--is hardly out of the question.

As always, I loved the dynamics between the kids and I admire how you can get all four of them in a room interacting together without anyone feeling out of place or ignored. If I were to have anything to pick at in the story, it wouldn't be the characterization or the theme or the hints of shippiness; it would be the pacing. For a multi-parter, I feel like there wasn't enough establishment of a basic plot and interaction that should probably be spread out in intensity over the long haul got heaped up too high. If I'm retarded and remembering incorrectly and it's just supposed to be a one shot, then smack me in the mouth, because what you had would've been perfect for that intention.

Raiser: Adding too much to your current story will probably cause it to crash and burn, especially if it hasn't been planned from the start and you haven't left enough ambiguity to make the best of retroactive foreshadowing. I think Davesprite and Aradiasprite could be something saved for another fic entirely and that tacking it onto your current story would be doing the concept a disservice. There's an elegance to be found in simplicity; let this fic be practice in curbing your inner storyteller and finding that beautiful sweet spot between too much and not enough. Keep it basic, with a definite intention in mind, or else you're going to run into issues of disjointedness.

If the fic started out as a study on Davesprite's struggle with loss, then keep it that way. Do what you originally intended to do: write a few AU stories from the depths of Jade's imagination, and then close it up. (Trust me, man, you don't need a specific vehicle to tell AU stories; you just do them!)

That said! I love the fact that Aradia just trolled the everloving fuck out of Davesprite unintentionally--THE MASTER HAS BEEN DEFEATED--and a fic involving them would be pretty much amazing. And of course I am probably the most rabid Dave/Jade shipper in existence, which means that literally anything written with that pairing will please me infinitely and can do no wrong, but it helps that you are fucking awesome at it. Highschool AUs usually make me roll my eyes, but in this case it's an honest to god feasible scenario, since the kids have...actually yet to go to high school. I love Jade being weird and getting all up in Dave's personal space and Dave just letting her because what else can he do, really; I love Dave spending so much time collabing with Jade, and getting so super excited at the prospect of getting discovered. (and most of all I love Dave being short and irritated about it. come on man hit your growth spurt already stop being a little bitch.)

especially loved the kiss description: a flash of light and feeling and taste. that is a good line, man, and I am jealous.

Superstar: Holy crap dude why would you do that to yourself? I would sooner shoot myself than format all of that. Pesterlogs are bad enough but wow. A++ for saint-like patience alone. I especially liked the line: "Each step was a billion footsteps, sound and fury drawn by chaos. It tore him apart, and sewed him back together in the same instance."

PaulPower: This was cute as all hell and made me want to hug John SO. MUCH. The original was cute too, but what you might call padding-y, I call depth; it turns John from a movie-style do-gooder to an actual, genuine, honest to god hero. All those resources, all that time, all that effort, and all to save a species that most people playing the game would consider "fake" and thus disposable. This is such a great characterization of him.

I have a fic that's been the bane of my existence for about a month and a half now, and it's languishing in a bit of a development hell. I wanted to write something in the Which Yet Survives verse to flesh it out a bit, at the same time tackling the concept of Denizens, and at the same time tackling the concept of what happens when Dave and Jade's powers work against each other unwittingly. The result was meandering and kind of shitty! It's been jossed by canon about ten times over since I started, but I'm really hard-pressed to let this thing go.

Here's a piece of it for your viewing pleasure. This is either a teaser for when I finally finish the fic, or a glimpse into the horrible place where my fics go to die.

gates of horn and ivory

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“And so Gaia,” he begins, and she finds herself drifting into her grandfather's steady baritone, lost in the light prosody of his accent and the smell of mahogany and warmth from the fireplace, “in her love and in her fury, bore a line with which to afflict both men and gods.

There was Ceto, a mother to dangers of land and sea, of whales and sharks with their thirsty knife-teeth; she bore the Graeae, the crones of sea-foam born old and impossible, and sisters to them were the Gorgons, storm-bringers and ship-wreckers and monsters so hideous, none could gaze upon them and yet breathe.

And there was great and gruesome Typhon, created forbidden from the void of Tartarus and the love of Gaia, seen by god-king Zeus as a folly of existence that must be ended--yet hope bloomed deep in her chest that the greatest of her sons might be what bends Heaven 'til it breaks. Typhon but laughed, stretched his hundred terrible wings and hundred terrible heads, and shook mountains until they bled fire, until even the immortals fled screaming to the distant lands of Egypt.

Great and gruesome Typhon was built to rule, so he locked arms with his battle-proud wife, and together they climbed Olympus as two to wage a brutal war. Against logic and reason, they took their mountain home from beneath the cowards who fled, and crowed their laughter to the stars in their victory, and would still laugh today had Zeus not stood firm and vengeful against them.

The fight was long and fierce, the first challenge of the god-king's sovereignty, but Zeus rained upon him all the power of thunder and lightning--but he could not slay great and gruesome Typhon, who was born the greatest of Gaia's sons, whose might exceeded in leagues the powers of all gods.”

“Then what did he do?” she asks, breathless; she sees it in bright, imaginative clarity, monsters and demons and gods and light and good and dark and evil. It's a sad revelation to her--that in her six years of life, not once had she ever considered that sometimes it takes more than strength for victory when evil is stronger than good.

“He took Typhon and cast him back into his father, the maw of darkness, Tartarus, and there imprisoned him beneath Mount Aetna, beneath Hephaestus' forge and workshop, and there he blew in the fire that the smith god used to craft glory from chaos.”

It's a lot for her to process, if she weren't occupied with the whens and hows and whys. She runs a thoughtful, hesitant finger around the portrait of Typhon's wife and asks, “But she went with him, right? What happened to her?”

“Zeus allowed her to live. And even as she was widowed, Echidna, beautiful and terrible and fearsome, was granted a sprawling cave-home far from the eyes of men and gods, where she turned bitter as she stewed in her growing loneliness; Echidna, ageless and undying, with her black pit eyes and coils as coal, stood battle-proud with no battles left to fight and the rage of her dead husband taking hold of her heart.”

Her grandfather looks down and sees her eyes glitter with tears and he rubs her back, kneads at her shoulder, expression marked with concern. “Jade? What's wrong?”

“I think I've seen her in my dreams,” she whispers.

He pauses, takes in a single deep breath, and closes the book. “I think that's enough for tonight.”

---------------

No[/i],” she breathes, even though she promised him she would.

“I told Strider that I'd see you out of here, and like hell I'm going back on my word now, not when--” Jade watches the veneer crack, just briefly, as she knows that Rose is remembering what she's been fighting to forget with every footstep down the winding halls without him: the way his scream bled into a gurgle that bled into nothing, the sharp crack and the wet, heavy sound of dead weight falling.

“Not when we're this close. Now get out of here.”

Jade has no time to protest. Rose, hands glowing, hair flying, pushes her through the door into the temple antechamber, and the magic sings into her bones, makes her jaw hurt and her head ring; the brunt of it tears through granite support columns like dynamite, punches through the arch of the doorway, and the earth groans around them.

She backpedals and the ceiling trembles, shakes loose, tumbles down and fills half the room with crumbling stone. The last she sees of Rose is her back as she turns to face midnight coils and blood-slick teeth and claws that reach and reach and reach for her.

There's a scream that bleeds into a gurgle that bleeds into nothing, and then silence.

“Tell me, my love.” The voice on the other side of the debris seeps through as a muffled purr; she hears long nails scratch over the rocks--not digging, just considering, waiting, laughing. “How many things are you? A witch and a dreamer, first an only child, then a widow, now alone, and a coward climbing to safety on the bodies of her friends. What else will you become before this is over?”

Jade imagines black pits where eyes should be on the other side, staring at her, into her, through her; it's only when she feels a dampness on her neck that she realizes she's crying.

“Could you have saved them had you acted? Are you a murderer as well?”

She doesn't wait for answers or accusations or for the rest of her soul to spill out weeping.

"Will you become me, in the end?"

She only runs, because she promised him she would.

[NewMars]

@sarasvati: Thanks for the critism! The first part of it established his character better, but yeah, I should cut back on the prose. About your fic: it's.. well... rather confusing actually, but since it's a teaser that's probably to be expected. Still, it does look really good, and I enjoyed the Greek mythology at the start.

[Friendly_Troll]

@sarasvati I admit to having way more fun writing that dynamic then I really should... but something about the idea of this weird, mismatched friendship(?) really appeals to me. :3
And yeah, basically cT would never admit to liking or being worried about Tavros, while Tavros just kind of tires to ignore howwierd it can be.

[DocBeard]

Damn it Sarvasi I was sitting down to write a cheerful fun story and there you go rocking my socks off. Best denizen depiction yet. You're right on the first chapter, I need to throw some plot in there. I've got a rough idea but I need to decide if I want a back up antagonist or not.

also if i can fit that 'dave and jade go to a furry con' scene in somewhere.

[Red Pen]

Part three of the very strange fanfic in which Rose becomes Jack Noir's therapist. (When did this thing get so serious?)

Part 1: http://www.mspaforums.com/showthread...=1#post3880657
Part 2: http://www.mspaforums.com/showthread...=1#post3882155

Unhinged - part three

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There was no need to panic.

To be more specific, Rose justified to herself, she certainly had ample REASON to panic. At any moment Jack Noir would come striding through the barred door across from where she sat, seppuku sword in hand, and Droll and Draconian were expecting her to somehow magically make him... what? Saner? Less powermad? She honestly had no idea what was expected of her, and wasn't sure she'd be capable of it even if she did. The extent of her knowledge went only as far as the books she'd read and her playful banter with Dave. She'd never given legitimate psychological help to anyone.

But she had to succeed, or Jack would kill her. And if he didn't, Draconian would. Rose wondered if it hurt when your dreamself died. Maybe it would be easy, like a falling dream, and she'd simply awaken with a start when she hit the ground.

Maybe it was excruciating.

But there was no need to panic. Yes, she had ample reason to panic, but no need. Panic would solve nothing. She was trapped, and so she sat and waited, composed and resigned to her fate.

For the last hour she'd been pacing methodically back and forth across the dark violet carpet of the dark violet room she'd been locked away in; six steps from one end to the other. This had been someone's reading room once. The walls were lined with cherrywood shelves filled with dark violet books. When she'd taken one down to peruse she'd discovered only neat rows of nonsensical symbols: what looked vaguely like chess and playing card motifs. If it was a language, she couldn't read it. High on one wall was a small window, just big enough to scramble through, but it was sealed by thick bars of a dark violet metal which refused to budge no matter how hard she pulled on them.

Rose had always rather liked purple, but the gloomy chroma of Derse was beginning to make her eyes ache. Now she simply sat in one of the two towering, old-fasioned armchairs which were (of course) upholstered in dark violet, and surveyed her lavish prison over steepled fingers. She fully intended to be sitting there, cooly, when he arrived. She wouldn't give Jack the pleasure of watching her lose control.

Somewhere in the palace, distantly, Rose caught the faint sounds of a disjointed argument and recognized Draconian's voice, drawing ever closer through the labyrinth of dingy hallways and empty rooms. She closed her eyes and took a long, slow breath. There was no need to panic.

And now the voices were just outside the door, bickering with one another in low tones. Droll and Draconian, and a third, fractious timbre that could only be the Sovereign Slayer. She'd never met him in person before. If nothing else, this would be intriguing. Something to write about in her journals. And so much more challenging than Dave...

A wry smirk crossed Rose's face. Suddenly, she was looking forward to it.

With a click of the lock the door swung open, and Jack Noir filled the doorway.

He looked... the word that immediately jumped to the forefront of Rose's mind was "ridiculous." His prototypings alone would have been imposing, but on Jack they looked too large and out of place, obviously meant for someone much taller and stronger. The wide, ragged wings alone he had to fold ungracefully just to enter the tiny room, and Rose caught a glimpse of Droll and Draconian standing outside before Jack slammed the door.

He scowled down at her, and Rose, still seated calmly in her armchair, looked up at him with the faint smile that had never left her face.

"Therapy. Really." There was a dangerous tone in his voice, like the calm before a storm.

Rose shook her head. "They weren't foolish enough to relay to you their actual intentions in this venture, were they?"

"No," he answered with a snap. "But I'm not an idiot."

She refrained from commenting on that. Too easy.

"Which one are you?" he demanded, and after a moment Rose realized that he was referring to the players in her Sburb session.

"Rose Lalonde." In case the name meant nothing to him, she added, "tentacleTherapist, or by the game's jargon, the Seer of Light."

"Rose Lalonde." Jack gave her a twisted smile, displaying an unnerving amount of acanthous teeth. "Do you know what you are now, Lalonde?"

"Leverage?" Rose guessed in a blank voice. "As long as you have my dreamself here, you can control my waking self's movements, sending me to sleep whenever it suits you. My safety should be a sufficient ultimatum to keep the others in check. You should be thanking the Dignitary for capturing me."

As was typical after one of Rose's analytical speeches, Jack was speechless for a moment. Rose took the opportunity to add, "The whole therapy idea, admittedly, was moronic. But as the abducted party, I wasn't really in a position to make suggestions."

Jack's smile returned, crooked and smug. He agreed with her on that, even if he'd never admit it, and she'd assured him that she, and by extension her friends, were completely in his power. Rose was fairly certain she'd just put the Sovereign Slayer in a good mood.

"This is your position now, Lalonde. You'll be a good little hostage, you'll tell your friends what I want you to say, and if you try anything, I'll kill you in both of your bodies."

"I'm getting a little weary of all these threats on my life," Rose sighed. "You'll no doubt lose your temper at some point and kill me anyhow, so I don't see why I should betray my friends on account of it."

Jack bent down to her eye level, leaning in so close to her face that Rose had to shrink back into the armchair to avoid his hot breath on her forehead. "Don't do anything stupid and I won't kill you. I give you my word, Lalonde, and I don't make promises I don't intend to keep."

A shiver ran the length of Rose's spine as she realized that he was being completely honest. Jack Noir had just sworn to keep her alive.

"Alright," said Rose, after faking a moment's thought. "Attribute it to my humanity, but I'd rather survive the game. What do you want me to tell them?"

The Slayer straightened and turned his back to her, heading for the door. "Tell them you escaped."

It wasn't until he'd put his hand on the door handle that Rose spoke up again. "Why don't you make promises you don't intend to keep, Jack?"

She saw him freeze, and felt a small amount of self-satisfied triumph at having caught him off guard.

"Because," he muttered without turning around, "When I give my word, I want everyone to know I'll keep it."

"Not because anyone ever broke a promise to you, then?" Rose said offhandedly.

A tense, silent moment, and then Jack wrenched the door open and stormed out, slamming it behind himself so forcefully that a few of the books fell from their shelves and went tumbling across the carpet to lay open at Rose's feet. She bent down and began gathering them up with a smile.

"In case you were wondering," Rose said aloud, for the benefit of the two other Dersites who had most certainly been listening at the door, and who had scattered when Jack emerged, "That went very well, all things considered."

"What do you think you're doing?" said Draconian's voice from the other side of the door.

"Exactly what you told me," she answered coyly as she put the books back on their respective shelves. "I'm helping Jack with therapy."

"My idea wasn't moronic," insisted Droll.

"You are TRYING to irritate him," the Dignitary countered.

"One idle comment hardly counts as an attempt at irritation. Leave the psychology to the qualified, if you please."

"It was a good idea," Droll said, unaware that he was being ignored.

"I find it hard to believe that you've so suddenly joined our side," Draconian said coldly. "It's easy to make an enemy of me, Miss Lalonde. Remember that."

Unseen by Draconian, Rose's smile widened. "I assure you, I have nothing but the purest of intentions. What other choice do I have? Now if you'll excuse me, I have a message to send."

Whatever the Draconian Dignitary said next, Rose ignored it, instead curling up in one of the large armchairs and laying her head on the armrest in an attempt to get comfortable. It was not the most awkward place she'd ever tried to fall asleep, but nevertheless it felt like an eternity went by before her dream body was cozy enough to doze off. Awakening from a dream was easy enough, once you realized it was a dream. You just had to open your eyes.

- - - - - - - - - -

The first thing she saw was sand, white and pink with blood from the large scrape on her cheek, which still stung even though it had scabbed over. Rose pushed herself slowly into a sitting position. Even after being asleep for so long, she felt exhausted. Her hubtopband was still active against her right eye, displaying a brilliant red tirade from Dave. She deactivated it. It was all she wanted to respond, to let him know she was alright, but first she needed to decide what to say.

There was an imp sitting across from her.

Rose blinked and stared at it. It was a white marble imp; by chance camouflaged almost perfectly to match the sand, and there were several more standing idly near it, making a lopsided circle around Rose.

"I see," she said to the first imp. "You're here to make sure I follow orders. No need to crowd me; I'll deliver the message and head back to Derse like a good little hostage." Rose, feeling as though she had a right to be a little petulant, stuck out her tongue at one of them before accessing her hubtopband again.

-- tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at ??? --

TT: If I recall, it was you who played the damsel in distress in that scenario.
TG: oh my god rose where have you been

His response was almost instantaneous.

TT: Why do I get the strange impression that you've being staring intently at your iGlasses for the past hour or so, just waiting for me to respond?
TG: because you like to think youre that important
TG: i mean seriously
TG: that would be pathetic
TT: I'm sure, Dave.
TG: some of us have lives that dont revolve around you
TG: real nice of you to go and get kidnapped like that
TG: because we have nothing better to do
TG: than put this whole saving the universe thing on hold
TG: so that you can have your bondage fantasies
TT: Once again, may I point out that you were the one in the ropes.
TG: oh yeah
TG: bondage is totally my thing
TG: you and i need to just get together
TG: for one big bondage party
TG: but
TG: and i really mean this
TG: where have you been?

Rose cast a glance over at the gaggle of imps who were watching her intently, reading her chatlog as it scrolled in reverse across the translucent screen covering her eye.

TT: I was taken to an interrogation with Jack Noir.
TT: Luckily, they forgot our dreamselves could fly. I took the first available opportunity to escape via an open window. I'm alright now.

She waited patiently for his reaction.

TG: oh fine
TG: so i can just cancel my rescue mission then
TG: call up mission control
TG: houston
TG: turns out our problem was just a big freaking waste of time
TT: Dave.
TG: crisis over
TG: go home
TT: Dave, I just want to reiterate.
TT: I'm alright now. And I mean that with my usual sincerity.
TG: ........
TG: .............
TG: ...................
TT: And in the same vein, I find your sudden overuse of ellipsis neither annoying nor redundant.
TG: your usual sincerity
TT: As sincere as that veritable work of art which is your webcomic.
TG: yeah okay now whos being redundant
TG: but i get it
TT: I have somewhere to be now, Dave. I'll try to keep you updated.

She reached up to turn off her headband, and one last message from Dave blinked against the screen.

TG: rose
TG: youre gonna be okay

Rose shook her head and shut down the hubtopband. She had the sickening feeling that she shouldn't have left Dave any hints as to her situation. The last thing she wanted was to involve him again. Let him focus on playing the game, climbing the echeladder, working towards an ending. She should be able to handle something like this by herself.

And then she looked around at the group of imps and almost laughed aloud from humorless absurdity. One of them had brought her a pillow.

Sessions

I know I'm late to the party on this, but these are amazing. I especially love the cyberpunk one!

Part 4: http://www.mspaforums.com/showthread...=1#post3904475

[NewMars]

@Red Pen: Wow, that is.. wierd... and wonderful. I especially like Clubs Deuce in it for some reason, he's just so.. oblivious.

Also, more from me: Housecaught P.3

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....That was probably the stupidest idea he'd had in a while. His father was so much better then him at this, even if he did refuse to actually attack him. He had that stupid fucking zen specibus, which made it impossible to hit him, because if he tried it'd all come back on him because of karma or some other spiritual shit that his dad was nuts about. Possibly the richest man alive and he dresses like he walked right out of a commune! Not to mention his using that idiotic bonsai modus and spending all his time out in the gardens meditating or whatever.

Anyways, this battle had gone right into a stalemate. This sort of thing had come up a lot of times before, and victory had always gone to the one whose patience held out the longest. Considering that he was, to put it bluntly, irritable and short tempered and his father was... well... not. He often ended up coming out the loser.

But not this time. There was far too much at stake. His collective mass of birthday presents were on the doorstep and damn if he wasn't going to enjoy the hell out of them before his old man could... could.... uh.... he wasn't quite sure what he would do but he wasn't going to let him get away with it! That was why he was going to try something completely stupid.

If his fathers strife specibus was based on zen philosophy, then maybe a healthy dose of western philosophy might.. do.... something to it? He wasn't sure at all what might happen, but it was better then just standing here. Cracking open his weapon of choice, the works of Frank Herbert, he turned to Destination: Void, over a hundred and fifty pages of four people stuck in a ship examining the nature of consciousness. In the pseudo-intelligent way of strife specibi's everywhere, his bookkind had undergone a temporary metamorphosis into philosophykind, and he was surprised to find that he had a new strife action: Discourse

He had to admit, his father was quite good at this whole philosophy-strife thing. But he didn't have a book of usable tidbits on hand. Not that this was all that much of advantage, considering that his dad seemed to have far more experience then he'd like at this. In the end, it still ended up coming to a standstill anyways, as both of them refused to admit that the others view was right. But his father did end up conceding the point after all, so he did technically win by forfeit, which is the best he had done in a long, long time.

With him out of the way, there was nothing left between him and the front door.

Links:Part 1.
Part 2.

[Cathartes]

Hmm, you're right. I guess the species got mixed up. I'll go fix it tomorrow. Also, what do you mean by pots and pans?

When I've fixed it, should I edit the old post or repost the new version?

Well, I sort of expected him to be a bit of a tinker.

I still don't see what Tavros has to do with tin. I suppose I don't get the joke?

[PaulPower]

working backwards!:
[...]
PaulPower: This was cute as all hell and made me want to hug John SO. MUCH. The original was cute too, but what you might call padding-y, I call depth; it turns John from a movie-style do-gooder to an actual, genuine, honest to god hero. All those resources, all that time, all that effort, and all to save a species that most people playing the game would consider "fake" and thus disposable. This is such a great characterization of him.

Thanks . Yeah, sometimes I'm too paranoid about adding in extra details for my own good.

I do like writing for John, it's interesting to try developing him heroically while still making sure he stays John.

Interesting direction with the Greek mythology stuff, by the way.

Red Pen: like the way you're characterising Jack, DD and CD there. CD being indignant at his idea getting called "moronic", and the idea of Jack being someone who doesn't make promises he won't keep/Rose trying to probe at the reason why was a nice move.

[Tenebrais]

Hmm, you're right. I guess the species got mixed up. I'll go fix it tomorrow. Also, what do you mean by pots and pans?

When I've fixed it, should I edit the old post or repost the new version?

Well, I sort of expected him to be a bit of a tinker.

I still don't see what Tavros has to do with tin. I suppose I don't get the joke?

Tinker-bull.

Anyway, there's been so much great stuff over the last day! All of you, without exception, are excellent.

I've written a pirate fic. Putting the characters into different settings is fun.

Shipheld

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The four of us made our unsteady way down a dingy back-alley in Tortuga. Tortuga is made entirely of dingy back-alleys. I'm pretty sure it's a universal constant: where there are pirates, there is a pirate town, and it's called Tortuga.
“Do we really have to do this?” I asked. “You know I hate taverns.”
“Oh yeah, sure, we could definitely skip this over,” came the reply. “We'd be the unmatched terror of the seas. The dread Captain Vantas and his terrifying crew of four.”
Terezi gave her mocking laugh. She laughed at everything he said.
“Besides, no one told you to come,” Karkat continued. “You could always have stayed on the ship with the rats. And the termites.” He laughed darkly. There's nothing funny about having two peg legs.
“That's even- hey, where'd Gamzee go?”
We looked around. He'd disappeared. He did that every time we made port.
“Sampling the wine, women and song, I'd imagine,” said Terezi.
“Well, they call it wine,” added Karkat.
“And I guess you could charitably call them women.”
“And best not think about his singing.”
Even I had to laugh. Gamzee's a good pirate, but he doesn't go to any effort to be dignified.
“Well, I can't go looking for him,” Karkat said. “I have to arrange the new crew.”
“And I can't go looking for him,” Terezi said, pointing at her blindfold.
“I'm not going out there on my own!” I insisted.
“We'll leave him then,” Karkat confirmed. “He'll find his way back to the ship before we set sail. He always does.”
No one needed to say, except that one time. We still laugh about that from time to time, when the nights are dull and the drink flows freely.

We soon found our way to a run-down pub tucked in a corner. It goes without saying that all the pubs are run-down and tucked in corners. I think this one was called The Goat's Tail or something? It didn't really matter. We split up to find new recruits for the crew. I went straight to the bar and intended to stay there while Karkat and Terezi did all the talking elsewhere. I'm not good with strange people.
“Daiquiri, please,” I mumbled to the barman. He gave me a funny look, but I flashed my coinpurse and he started mixing the drink. Even Terezi thinks they're too girly to drink, but I like them. They're not much different from grog, and we all drink that. At least that's what I keep saying.

I sipped my drink and looked around. Terezi had disappeared. I could see Karkat talking to a man with funny eyes, and could just about hear their conversation.
“Alright, so you can read and write,” Karkat was saying, “and that's pretty useful. What else can you do?”
“Well, I've got a good aim if you give me something to throw. No one can beat me at darts.”
“Really?” He cast around and found a pickled onion. “Here,” he said. “You see that guy at the bar? With a girly drink? The one looking this way. Yeah, I see you, Tavros! Anyway, see if you can hit him.”
I was about to protest, but before I could even open my mouth the guy had grabbed the onion, lobbed it and hit me square between the eyes. Great. Now I had vinegar on my face.
Karkat was impressed though. “Nice! Alright, welcome aboard. What's your name?”
“Sollux. Sollux Captor.”

I watched Karkat recruiting. He took on a pallid girl that, by the sound of it, was more interested in digging through the ruins that sometimes dotted the landscape than any honest pirating. He evidently wasn't very picky. He was then approached by a tough-looking guy with a mullet, when I got distracted by someone taking my drink and downing it.
“Um, excuse me,” I said. “That's my drink.”
“Y' wanna make somethin' of it?” growled the girl that had just taken it. She looked very threatening. She wore an eyepatch, and a hook replaced one of her hands. She had long, filthy black hair. She was in every sense the image of a pirate. She even had the accent.
I was terrified.
“Um, well, I... uh... Hey, are you looking for a job?”
The pirate woman was taken aback by the offer. “What do y' mean?”
“Well, my crew is looking for new blood, and you... look like you might... fit the part?” I trailed off.
“I refuse t' believe yer a captain,” she arred. There is no other word for how she spoke.
“Oh, no! No, Karkat's the captain. He's over there,” I gestured to the table that he had taken as his now that people were approaching him.
“Karkat Vantas? Huh. I've heard of ‘im.” She marched over to speak to him, and I sighed in relief. Unfortunately, he accepted her far too quickly, and she came back.
She laughed at me. “Har! No wonder y' need a crew. Yer a mess of a lot! The name's Vriska.” She gave me a grin that was not at all friendly. “I think you an' me will be gettin' along like a house on fire.”

I was saved from having to spend any more time talking to Vriska by a commotion from deeper into the tavern. It looked like someone had questioned blind Terezi's ability to fight, which she was demonstrating with her bronze cane. It was certainly a very good cane, crafted by a very skilled blacksmith. You could tell she was impressed, because she'd paid for it, and it had seen her through countless battles with barely a scratch. You didn't get to be a pirate if you couldn't kill people. Still, the barman politely but firmly asked them to leave, and waved his gun to punctuate the point. Terezi strode out with the four people she'd recruited – one girl looked barely sixteen! Terezi clearly hadn't been very picky either. Karkat, noticing them, took his three and left too. I followed, with Vriska keeping as uncomfortably close to me as she could.

We would our way back to our ship, the Alternia.
“Hey, what the fucking motherfuck?” yelled a familiar voice from the deck. “Why'd you go fucking leavin' me? I had... I had the greatesht time! Oh! I see you've got... new faces!” Gamzee threw up over the side of the boat, almost splashing an elegant-looking woman that Terezi had recruited.
“Welcome to your new home, everyone,” Terezi laughed.
“Alright, alright,” Karkat said. “Introductions! I'm Captain Karkat Vantas. Terezi there is my first mate, and Tavros is the navigator! I know, two peg legs, it's stupid, but he knows the waters. New faces, this is Sollux, Aradia and... what did you say your name was?”
“I didn't,” said the man with the mullet, as he walked up the gangplank onto the ship.
“You know,” Karkat whispered to me, “I think he's related to the nobility. Probably thinks he hides it better than he does.” His voice rose to shouting again. “Right, introductions later! All aboard! We're well stocked on food and booze, and we're ready to set sail! Let's get hunting these waters!”

Our twelve-strong crew climbed aboard the ship, and we set off into the great blue seas.

[Solaris]

Ha, two peg legs.
At least he can walk I guess.
I wonder what kind of shenanigans they would get into...

[DocBeard]

A++++ Tenebrias. Nice workaround with cT, too. Made me chuckle.

Red Pen: Any chance we could see John and Jade's reaction to their worst enemy holding Rose hostage? Maybe a brainstorming scene with the three pertinent chums. I'm sure Dave's chained John to the couch to keep the kid from trying to attack Derse on his own, at the very least.

[Tezrial]

So, I said earlier that I doubted you would ever see anything that I've written show up here.

Turns out I was wrong. >.>
Turns out I was...
*puts on sunglasses*
...dead wrong.

And now for your viewing pleasure, I give you...

Two Rings to Troll Them All

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|PESTERLOG|
-- ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] --

EB: hey dave!
TG: what is it now
EB: i just thought of something.
EB: i never realized it before.
EB: but...
EB: do you know who else was called strider?
TG: egbert you dont want to finish that thought
EB: and also liked swords a whole bunch?
TG: stop
TG: just stop right the fuck there
TG: not another one of your retardedly idiotic movie references
TG: that shit got old before whatever inarticulate braindead scriptwriters even conceived of the idea to skullfuck us with their mindless drivel masquerading as goddamn pure cinematic fucking masterpiece
EB: come to think of it you really are a lot like aragorn.
TG: damn it egbert
TG: did i not just finish telling you to cut that shit out
EB: i mean, you're the knight of time.
EB: i guess aragorn was technically a ranger...
EB: but he was a lot more like a knight at the end!
TG: im beginning to wonder if you can even read
TG: i think you have just been retard flailing your face around your keyboard the entire time i have known you
TG: and that you just happen to be lucky enough to get a half coherent response out every now and then
EB: OH! OH! DAVE!
TG: no
EB: jade could be like your arwen.
EB: your mystical elf princess with unsurpassed beauty and power.
TG: fucking
TG: i just
TG: fuck
EB: oh come on. you know you love this idea!
EB: rose likes wizards and stuff maybe she can write some aragorn-dave/arwen-jade fic or something.
EB: i bet jade would like that!
TG: im going to go fall on my goddamn sword
TG: be back never i guess
EB: try not to get any blood on your sweet gear.
TG: fuck you
EB: :D
-- turntechGodhead [TG] is now an idle chum! --
EB: holy shit your sweet gear!
EB: your turntables are like giant rings.
EB: DAVE YOU ARE THE LORD OF THE RINGS!

-- tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] --

TT: So, Viggo. What is this I hear about you returning?
TT: Perhaps as a king?
TG: god damn it

-- gardenGnostic [GG] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] --

GG: dave!!
GG: do you really think of me as your elf princess???? :D
GG: that's soooooo sweet!!! <3<3
-- turntechGodhead [TG] is no longer connected! --
GG: awww :(

[Orange]

Orange: hooray, a story about the kids! I was hoping you'd do something like this. I like the idea behind it, and the split-structure you're running even more. I think you've got Rose down pretty pat, and I like the narrative style in her sections; it's flowing but at the same time orderly, organized, and very, very much Rose.

phrases I like:
He thinks it's about that long; in reality it's exactly that long. He doesn't pay much attention to the numbers.
"Good thing I've gotten the hang of this 'previously on Nobody Listens to Strider' shit," he whispers to himself in an almost conspiratorial tone, languidly drawing the timevinyls back with a single finger.
Once more, then. With feeling.

My only issue with your take on Dave in prose-narrative form is how heavy-handed it is. It is very layered with all of his gimmicks to the point of being too much, I think. I mean, kid cusses up storms inside storms, but not that much! In the end, it all sounds very "try hard;" like you're pressuring yourself to write him as funny, when really, the most humor that comes out of Dave is through his natural quick wit. If the dialogue doesn't sound like it comes out all on its own, he loses his appeal.[/spoiler]

Big wordy response under the spoiler.

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I'll definitely be the first to admit that I'm pressuring myself pretty hard to do so. I generally think almost everything he says in Homestuck proper is a riot. But yeah, especially in this last chapter I had a lot of his gimmicky humor. I might have to go back and fix that. (Honestly, I think I was just subconsciously trying to get the length of Dave's half to match the length of Rose's.)

(Also, this line:
"Good thing I've gotten the hang of this 'previously on Nobody Listens to Strider' shit," he whispers to himself in an almost conspiratorial tone, languidly drawing the timevinyls back with a single finger.

All of a sudden I don't much like it. I like the image it depicts, I like the actual dialog, but the description seems ultraverbose compared to the line itself. Argh, I don't want to look at the whole thing again. I'll probably edit half of it out if I do. But maybe that's a good thing this time.)

Thanks Sarasvati!

[DocBeard]

EB: holy shit your sweet gear!
EB: your turntables are like giant rings.
EB: DAVE YOU ARE THE LORD OF THE RINGS!

Okay fuck you I just spit my coffee all over my computer monitor.

PS: I'm expecting more from you, young man. Or lady. I don't even know.

[Superstar]

-- gardenGnostic [GG] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] --

GG: dave!!
GG: do you really think of me as your elf princess????
GG: that's soooooo sweet!!! 3
-- turntechGodhead [TG] is no longer connected! --
GG: awww [/spoiler]

Epic win. I want to see more. That... That hits me where I live.

[nextian]

Tezrial, I love that unduly. Next make Dave fight lava orcs!!!

Sarasvati, I actually totally didn't find that confusing, a fact which I find kind of upsetting because it validates how ludicrously overinvolved I get with totally baffling narratives, but yes I want more of it omg did Rose and Dave just die?! and are we going to reset the timeline and then I'm going to lose my shit because now Rose has (kind of) and Jade has (definitely) seen all her friends die?! and omg.

Also there needs to be an official codification of the word hussied to mean "not actually jossed, not actually kripked; your speculations have been made canon when least convenient for you and noncanon when it might actually help your plot, and you can't actually feel bad about this because the result is too cool."

Tenebrais -- DO WHAT YOU WANT COS A PIRATE IS FREE

[I-gor]

Two Rings to Troll Them All

I had to stop lurking to comment on this. As a Lord of the Rings nerd myself I thought of this and to see it in an actual fic is awesome.

I should probably write more stuff.

[Cathartes]

So does anyone even want to see more of my fic? If it sucks, I don't want to spend a lot of time on it. I could work on something else.

[Tenebrais]

I think your fic is good, and if you can find ways to work with it more, do so, especially since I'm having so much trouble coming up with ideas for Castlebound.

Of course, if you want to write something different, I'd be happy to read that too.

[Cathartes]

I actually have a long plot planned, that I may or may not finish because OH MY GOD LOOK A BUG!

So yeah, I just want to make sure people are enjoying it before I go on. I don't want to spend a lot of time on something nobody likes.

[NewMars]

I'm in pretty much the same place, so I'd like to know if anyone is enjoying mine?