MSPA fan-fiction

[Orange]

I am SO GLAD I could finally get this started. I guess all I needed was more exposition to work with, and some inspiration from the awesome folks present here. Check and fuckin' check.

ALSO, Haha, this is finally a story NOT INVOLVING THE TROLLS AT ALL. And I mean that in a purely personal sense. All I've written about are the trolls thus far, but this is about Rose and Dave. Fun times.

Anyway, this isn't done yet; this is just the first part. It was getting awfully wordy, and I decided I'd clip it off here. I'm still trying to get the hang of the characters. It's surprisingly hard for me to write Dave or Rose outside of chat logs. The chat logs are so easy for me, compared to this.

The River
(Or "God Damn It: In Which Gods Are Damned")

Rose:

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In case it wasn't clear, magic is real.

Pardon my egress. You're on your own now.

When Rose dreamt, and she did not dream often, she dreamt of her own words; words she had written out in hopes of saving themselves, or at least saving some poor souls somewhere else down the line. It was the kind of thinking that Jade or Dave would've been apt to do, and she had felt pride well up in her chest at the time.

Now... now she dreamt of her words with disdain. She dreamt of her own initials, carved in impulsive rage on her laptop screen. She had been maniacally pleased when she scrolled down and the shimmering letters had rolled up the page, just like she thought they would.

It probably happened because she intended it to.

Cracks in reality, whether carved into virtual space or found in the darkness amongst quasi-helpful lovecraftian horrors, don't fade away. They stay in one's head, behind eyelids and in front of one's face.

Rose Lalonde could not fathom the hours she had given to the saccharine wasteland that was "her" planet, searching ceaselessly for any signs of life, any desecrated temple, any possible font of information she could utilize to put her plan into motion.

She did not have a plan, of course, but she was sure that it just needed some kind of motion. She was waging war with that quaint little phrase yet at the same time attempting to eke out what little hope she could from it. 'Into motion'. She laughed bitterly into the sharp winds.

Her plans weren't going anywhere.

Dave:

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Fucking hell. Let's try this right the fuck again then.

Dave Strider whipped out his timetables for the fifth time in as many hours and rewound back about forty-five minutes. 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. "Otherwise her voice would make me jump out of my elder god damn non-euclidean pants. Fuck's sake."

And then, seamlessly, "Lalonde, there you are. Glad I found you. You have no gog damn idea how fuckin' hard it is to find someone who zooms around at warp nine with motherfuckin' mystical rocket needles."

Rose, who had stopped to investigate a dilapidated building, wasn't all that surprised. Some repressed part of her (the dreamself aspect, she suspected) knew that Dave was apt to just pop up whenever he thought he needed to. She had already decided that this was one of the times he needn't do so.

"Hello Strider," she spoke softly. Her voice sounded husky, quiet and yet-- close-up. Almost in your ear. Fucking frightening. "As the Knight of Time, I'm somewhat surprised to see you here. I was previously convinced that you had far too many things to amuse yourself with already. Surely you don't need my help."

"Nah, not really needing any help right now, unless you can help me to convince you that you need some help with this... whatever the shit it is you're doing. It's confusing as fuck. I mean, let's put the blowing-the-gate-right-the-fuck-up shit to the side. We'll wait until that shit dries up so we can pick up it all easy-like and throw that shit away."

"Your analogies," his floating friend said with a wry grin, "are among the loveliest examples of literary genius I've thus encountered."

"Yeah, and you've read Barkley's biography, so I guess that's sayin' somethin'. Fuckin' beautiful as fuck I bet. Can read that shit in the dark it's so damn brilliant." Dave grinned on the inside at his own humor, but only briefly; his thoughts settled down to match his cool exterior. "Shouldn't be making these silly damn diatribes right now. Can't hardly help it when she reacts the way she does, really," he thinks to himself. It's a fleeting thought.

"Anyway, look. You're trying to break the game. I can respect that. That's a gog damn fantastic master plan, by the way. Step one, break the game. Step two, break other shit. I don't know how it goes; I'm not really the mastermind here. My point is, I want to help you do whatever it is you're doing. Think about it. With my help, I could just pull us back whenever you break something really important, and then we'd know not to break it."

Dave thought he made a convincing case.

Rose eyed him levelly, seeming as if she was mulling it over. Dave was having a really hard time telling how long it took her to reply, since everything happened so fast for him. Finally, she perked an eyebrow up and spoke.

"Yes. Theoretically."

Wrong again, Junior. Can't fuckin' phone a friend; haven't got a one that isn't pre-occupied with some highly plot-relevant, important grade-triple-fuckin'-A shit. Good thing you're not some kind of hostage negotiator, those hostages would be dead as soon as you picked up the damn loudspeaker.

"Dave, I don't want anyone else to get hurt in my attempts to break this miserable piece of software." She gave him a look that was meant to show her intentions. Her feelings. Her expression spilled over with apologeticness, sincerity, and above all determination in the face of both of the former emotions. To Dave, she looked like she wanted help after all. In the grand scheme of things, both her intent and his assumption were correct.

"I'm sorry, Strider. This is something I am going to pursue on my own. If something goes wrong, I don't want you or any of my friends in the ensuing blastwave. Whatever form the result may manifest as, I shall deal with it on my own. If I need your help after that... I'll call out. I doubt you'll be able to miss it."

Then there was a crack like a thunderclap in the air, leaving the strong scent of sulfur in the air (though laced somewhat with a smell Dave couldn't identify; sweet and flowery, but the hell he would ever apply the word to anything in seriousness), and just like that she had fled once more.

Fucking. Hell.

Once more, then. With feeling.

[Spiritus]

So I'm sitting here, diodes attached to my face, waiting for my sleep study to start. Absolutely nothing to do = your guy's gain (hopefully, please).

Bad End Chapter 3

Panic attacks. Best way to stave them off? Fucking up hordes of imps. Or so Dave had convinced himself. He needed to not think for a while. Thinking would only cause him problems at this point. Thinking would cause him to remember his two dead friends. Thinking would reinforce how unwinnable their game was. Thinking would-

“No! Not now, goddamn it!” Dave yelled, throwing himself into a cluster of imps. He was getting annoyed at how easy it was to get back onto that subject. He wished he had something bigger to fight, or at least that these imps didn't suck so much in a fight. Although, to be fair, Dave really wasn't the best opponent to judge their strength against. He had been training for years with someone who could move so fast and plot so many moves in advance that he could trick you into fighting his afterimage for minutes at a time. Dave was practically running on autopilot. Of course, not focusing on the fight only made him think more.

“I wonder if Rose could psychobabble that part of my brain into shutting up,” he mused, finishing off the last of the imps on his roof. They had been coming in waves for the last two or so hours (near as he could tell, what with there being no sun or working timepieces in this world), and he was a little glad for the reprieve. He leaned up against his Alchemizer and started texting Rose.

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

TG: ok so
TG: i am officially bored with this shit
TG: signed sealed and notarized
TG: send it off to the governor
TG: id rather navigate a hedge maze of puppet dong
TG: than kill another of these imps
TT: I sympathize.
TG: right
TT: No, really, I do.
TT: Fighting opponents you far outclass doesn't do much to keep your mind off your situation, does it?

Dave rubbed his temples. How the fuck did she always do that? There's no way he was that predictable.

TG: speak for yourself
TG: i just want to fight something that doesnt pretty much die when i look at it
TG: are you
TG: what do you psychopeople call it
TG: projecting on me
TT: Dave, please don't try to counter-analyze me.
TT: Nothing good will come of it.
TT: Because I assure you, you will lose.
TT: And me turning you into a babbling puddle on the ground will do little good for our situation.
TG: please
TG: you just dont want me proving that you want to bone your mother while in my body
TG: or something like that
TG: your kind always comes up with the weirdest shit
TG: rose
TG: you still there
TT: My apologies.
TT: I needed to go dry-heave.
TG: ha
TT: Hastily moving on.
TT: Have you heard from Jade?
TT: It's been a few hours since I last heard from her, and I am rather concerned.
TG: not a word
TG: who knows what that girls up to

He really hated lying to her like that, but he felt that it was probably for the best. Rose had a tendency to overanalyze everything, so there was no way she'd accept a simple answer like “Jade ran out of time”. No, she'd read too much into it and, like, get the vapors, or whatever broads get when they freak out. Not really something she could afford, considering all the little monsters running around trying to kill her.

TT: Hmm…
TT: Well, while I am normally one to encourage facing your anxieties, I need to take my mind off them for a few moments.
TT: Want to talk shop?
TG: what
TT: What are you doing in the game, Strider?
TT: Have you made any interesting weapons or clothes?
TT: John made some rather impressive things.
TG: nothing worth flipping out about
TG: i just gathered all the shitty swords i could find and merged them
TG: into a marginally less shitty sword
TG: you made anything useful
TT: I put together my knitting needles with a wizard statue.
TT: I must say, putting bolts of energy through the heads of these creatures has been rather cathartic.
TG: oh man you know what you should do
TG: take that crazy evil book
TG: and combine it with those needles
TG: youd have crazy d'ark ma'jyyk enyrjjies to shoot around
TT: Dave, please.
TT: There are some places that no one should go.
TG: dont puss out on me now lalonde
TT: No, I think my current weapons are sufficient.
TT: Have you done anything to your sprite yet?
TT: Based on what I've seen with John, a second-tier prototyping gives it combat abilities.
TG: not yet
TG: oh fuck i have the best idea
TG: one sec

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

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

TG: ok wow
TG: that was like
TG: eleven different kinds of retarded
TG: what the fuck possessed me to do that
TT: What did you do?
TG: i threw lil cal into seppucrow
TG: i figured that level of badass would help me get somewhere
TT: Oh my.
TG: guess what i get to listen to now
TG: HAA HAA HEE HEE HOO HOO HOO HOO HAA HAA HEE HEE HEE HEE HAA HAA HOO HOO
TT: I'm surprised you took the time to type all that out.
TG: i want you to fully appreciate my position
TG: i am trapped
TG: on a tiny ass roof
TG: above a fucking sea of lava
TG: armed with only a kinda ok sword
TG: and am being followed by a ghostly puppet bird thing
TG: that wont stop laughing
TG: in my ear
TT: Ah, the price of being a follower of the gods of irony.
TG: personally i blame you for this
TT: Me?
TG: you probably put some freudian mind control on me
TG: years ago
TG: just so i would have to suffer
TT: Of course.
TT: I foresaw this exact situation, down to smallest detail.
TT: And every single word I've said to you since the moment we met has been masterfully calculated.
TT: All to get you to throw your brother's favorite puppet into your sprite.
TG: called it
TT: Mwahahahahaha!
TG: you really need a hobby
TG: like jigsaw puzzles
TG: thats what you crazy women do when you get old right
TG: anyways
TG: im gonna go kill myself
TG: repeatedly
TG: ill call you the next time i want to be inspired
TG: into killing myself
TT: Good luck, Dave.

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

Dave wasn't sure what he'd do next. Probably figure out a less shitty weapon. Couldn't let Rose show him up. If he didn't have something amazing to show off the next time they spoke he'd-

Wait, nevermind. There was his answer as to what to do: a big-ass hand coming up over the side of the building. This should keep him busy for a while.

Panic attacks. Best way to stave them off? Fucking up giant ogres.[/spoiler]

I don't feel quite as good about this one as the previous two. It's harder to speak for Rose than I thought it would be.

Anyways, if people are enjoying this, I have one or two more left in me. The next one would focus more around Rose and be far more prose-heavy than pesterlog.

[VagabondRaiser]

It's like we got a metric fuck-ton of Dave all up in this bitch! Not that there's anything wrong with that.

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@Orange:
Once more, then. With feeling.

Honestly, I don't see how you claim to be having trouble writing Dave and Rose outside of chat logs. You've characterized them quite well; Dave keeping his cool even through five renditions of essentially the same conversation seems fairly likely. I can imagine the first two times he probably flipped his shit and got an even colder rebuke in return, so by number 5 he's really just kinda chill with the matter, even if it still pisses him off that he's being ignored. Like he's resigned himself to doing it over, and over, and over again, until he finally gets through to her or blows a gasket and eats her needles or something. Can't wait for the rest.

@Spiritus:
Why haven't I seen the rest of this? I like the way you characterize Dave. Imps don't seem to give him much trouble as it is, which makes plenty of sense considering their much slower combat style relative to Bro's. Honestly, anything that can't be behind you in the amount of time it takes to wonder why it's not in front of you seems like it won't be much of a challenge to Dave in a straight-up fight.

Unless it's able to take a hit and backhand him across a room, or something.

Seeing Dave without the Caledscratch or the Timetables is oddly amusing to me. I find myself curious as to where he would come across the time travel via turntables idea.

I'm gonna have to find your other posts after this.

So I was almost done with this last night, but damned if I wasn't tired, and wanted to make certain I wasn't missing any formatting errors, so here it is:
Chapter One
What May Have Been, Chapter Two: School High

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YEARS IN THE FUTURE, BUT NOT MANY... IN AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE...
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"Damn, man, why does Prof Clover gotta give us so damn much homework?" Dave groaned aloud, his backpack hanging half-off one shoulder as he walked down one of the many halls in their high school. Further up the hall, John was pulling some nice-guy bullshit from a movie or something, and had Rose's books tucked under one arm, his own backpack slung low over both shoulders. She had long ago stopped bothering to argue the point with him whenever he insisted on being a gentleman, and even if John claimed it was just because he wanted to be nice, anyone with a working pair of eyes and some decent social aptitude could tell that he was head over heels for the blonde Lalonde, including the seer herself, who always had that little smile whenever she was talking to him, matched by that perpetual bucktoothed grin that more than a few girls around the school secretly wished were directed at them. She was the envy of most girls around the school (or so Jade reported), fawned over by the hopeless romantic, even as John was envied by many of the boys for the same smile he received.

Despite Egbert's unexpected growth spurt making him a little bigger than their group, he still managed to look childishly mismatched in khaki pants that were a little too big and a long-sleeved brown shirt screenprinted to look like the top half of Egon Spengler's jumpsuit (complete with sewn-on nametag). Rose, on the other hand, dressed far more conservatively, a simple pink blouse and black eldritch squiddle-print skirt atop pristine black shoes, a stark contrast to the worn, dust-grayed sneakers John wore. Dave, longing to break out of his Bro's fashion shadow, wore black slacks and an open red button-shirt over a white tee and black shoes. His aviators were conspicuously absent from his face, tucked into his shirt after an earlier argument over a teacher regarding school uniform policy (third time that week). Emeraldine eyes glaring apathetically at the world, rather well rested after dozing lightly last period.

"Don't mind me, just talkin' to myself back here," he said a little louder, a little more pointed, a little more not-being-noticed by the two chatting about... fuck, he stopped caring around the third sentence when John mentioned something about a hippopotamus. Rose's responses, although beyond intelligent enough to glean the meaning of the conversation, had him as equally unenthused, if only since he could care less about math. No, his mind was elsewhere, a little telltale bob to his head, that asynchronic patter of a hand tapping against his leg, thumb looped in the top of the pocket. He had the bug again, another new song in his head. Ever since their success at SBURB, and the subsequent defeat of Jacksperhass Noirlecrowley, he had taken his music in a totally new direction, with live recording work and a little help from one hell of a collaberator, someone who not only could provide some serious fresh jamz but play up his phat beats, alchemizing together a truly formidable beast of fresh beats, phat jamz, and slick cuts, radiating fractal haymakers of pure auditory sex upside the--

"Hey! Hey guys! Wait up! C'mon, guyyys!"

John and Rose were oblivious to the call from further down the hall, but Dave wasn't. His head jerked to one side, and he heel-turned in mid-step, walking a few steps backwards before stopping. Jade struggled a little to manage carrying two large books, a messenger bag slung at her side, and getting through the crowds beginning to form as a result of other students filing out of their classes intent on getting home. She managed to make it look almost easy, and almost like dancing, her hair and dark blue dress fanning out behind her, her sneakered footwork working quite well to keep her from crashing into anyone. At least, until a hurried brat wearing a yellow shirt with a big bold black 1 on it zipped by, towing another kid in a blue shirt with a 2 on it by the arm; she managed to duck under the first arm, but her foot caught on the leg of the second, and she stumbled forward. Quick as anything, Dave closed the last two feet, reaching out a hand to steady both her and the books, and she smiled at him. Always in the nick of time. "Sorry I took so long! I had a question about the homework and then Mrs. Snowman wanted to know about our project and I got caught up in talking about it and--" Dave's pointed look caused her to pause, and she blushed a little. "Sorry."

Dave chuckled, and adjusted Jade's glasses back up from the end of her nose to the bridge, flicking an imaginary speck of dust from the shoulder of the green-black overshirt she wore and swinging the golden atom pendant he had gotten her for her birthday back down from her shoulder. "Don't apologize so much, just take a breath once in a while. Talk too much faster and your mouth'll fall off," he joked, turning to see if John and Rose had--

Yep, they were gone. He rolled his eyes, and turned back to her, only to have her face mere inches from his. Bluhfuck. She was staring at his eyes, steel-blue eyes boring into green, an intent look on her face; refusing to crack under the scrutiny, he remained still, idly hoping his breath didn't reek of school lunch pizza and apple juice while subtly extending himself to try and make up for the inch and a half of height she had on him (a subject he was still sore about, being the shortest of the four, even if only by a few inches). "What?" He finally asked when she smiled and leaned back out of his two-inch personal bubble, bobbing on her toes a bit with that big cute grin on her face that looked just plain goofy on John but too damn cute on her.

"Just wanted to see your eyes again." She shrugged her shoulders cryptically, and folding her hands with the books together at her front, took a few steps past him, before turning back to look at him in the mostly empty hallyway. "Coming?" Confusion gave way to bemusement, and he stepped up beside her, falling in stride with her easily. "So Miss Snowman asked about the project?" He had affected a bored air, but it didn't fool Jade; she knew he thrived on acceptance and interest from others, and the word of their Music Appreciation teacher was practically golden for him. Her lips curled into a slight smile. "Yeah. I gave her that demo tape you made yesterday. She said she had a few friends who were big in the music business that she wanted to give it to. Said you might know them, they're a group called 'The Midnighters' or something? They do a lot of soft jazz, and stuff, I think. Um, I can't remember--"

"The Midnight Crew!?" Jade squeaked as he abruptly whipped her around to face him and gripped her shoulders, causing her to almost drop her books. "She knows the Midnight Crew?" Slightly freaked out by the outburst, she only nodded nervously. "Y-yeah, that was them. She said they were looking for new talent, and thought that they might be interested in it, so..."

Releasing her shoulders, Dave ran a hand through the orange mop of hair on his head, staring at the floor and pacing a bit. "Holy shit..." He muttered. Jade canted her head to the side. "Are they a big name band?" Dave cleared his throat, trying to affect his usual unflappable attitude, but was clearly excited by this, and started rifling through his bag. "They are THE big name band. The Midnight Crew... fuckin'... wow." He pulled a CD jewel case from the depths of his disorganized backpack, handing it to Jade. On the cover, four shadow-cloaked individuals in suits and hats posed, two looking angry, one apathetic, one vacant. The small angry one appeared to have some sort of 'shadow power' enveloping his hand. "That's their debut album, 'Drawing Dead'. I got the rest of 'em at home." He began pacing again, albeit faster this time. "One of the songs we did for that tape was a cover of theirs, Jade. 'The Ballad of Jack Noir'? The one you said made you think of..." his voice faded a bit, not out of fear or reverence but a realization that he was likely talking loud enough to be heard all the way down the hall. "...Jacksperhass?" Realization dawned, and Jade's attention snapped up from the jewelcase, glasses slipping a bit at the motion; her eyes locked onto Dave's. "That was the song I played for her the other day on the bass! When that big man wearing the cute heart button was in the class! This is him on the cover!" She excitedly pointed at the taller of the two angry fellows. "He said his boss would be interested in hearing more!"

Jade's excitement was infectious, and Dave was damn near vibrating, torn between maintaining his (presumedly) impeccable cool and dancing about like a giddy boy skylark that had just climbed the first rung of his echeladder. "Hearts Boxcars liked it? And Miss Snowman liked it?" She nodded emphatically. "Which means... this may be our big break!" Her smile had broken out into a full-force grin, and so had his. She bounced on her toes and would've been clapping her hands together if she weren't clutching two books in one hand and the CD case in the other. She liked seeing him this excited, this happy; it was a side of him that very few people ever got to see. She could see his imagination running wild in his eyes as he ran both hands through his hair, holding it up for a bit before releasing a haggard breath, all pretense at staying cool gone from his mind. Fuckin' hell, the Midnight Crew. He hadn't felt this good in... well, ever. He was so happy he could... shit, he could just--

--and then, for a brief moment, he forgot himself. Grabbing Jade by the shoulders again, he pulled her close and kissed her, hard and fast, almost before either of them realized what he'd done, a flash of light and feeling and taste; time seemed to stand still for the moment, Jade's eyes involuntarily closing as she leaned into the kiss, both of them only parting when air became an issue. The look of surprise and shock on Jade's face mirrored Dave's own, and for a brief moment they could only stare at each other, separated by but a few inches. A blush spread quickly on Jade's face; Dave paled slightly.

Thudunk-clakattatat
"FFFffffuck!"

He hopped back, instinct demanding that he not put pressure on the foot that had just received the full weight of not one, but two rather heavy school books and causing him to do a sort of half-limp, biting his lower lip. "Ohmygod I'm sorry I didn't mean to do that, I just-- y-you startled me, and I-- oh geez, I'm sorry, I--" Jade's stammering nearly drowned out a pair of titters from further up the hall, but not enough for Dave to not notice. His head snapped up, and pain was overtaken with rage at the sight of Rose and John standing there, the latter holding the camera, and the former holding a Polaroid photo of the damning evidence. He advanced a single step, malice in his eyes, and both John and Rose took off running, the royally pissed Knight of Time in hot pursuit. Sighing, Jade rolled her eyes and knelt to retreive the books and CD case, standing with a huff and starting off after them, her smiling lips still tingling a bit as she brushed her fingertips against them.

"Every time..."

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---
MEANWHILE, BACK AT THE RANCH...
---

PKOW!
"HOOOO-EEE! That there imp done been kilt GUUUD!"
"Darn tootin'! Mah grampaw tawt me how ter shoot plenny fine!"

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OH SHIT, MY BAD. BACK ON LOHAC...
---
--- turntechGodhead [TG] continued pestering gardenGnostic[GG] ---

TG: so yeah
TG: you basically started going on about us all being in high school
TG: like it was just a natural progression that we would all live in the same neighborhood
TG: or something
GG: awww!!!
GG: i thought it was cute!
GG: but whos the midnight crew??
TG: some guys from a webcomic
TG: called ms paint adventures
TG: john reads it damn near religiously
TG: or he did
GG: webcomic characters?
TG: before all this crazy-ass sburb shit happened
TG: yeah
TG: a bunch of guys on the forums made up music
TG: like they were the actual midnight crew
TG: i have the album
TG: its pretty cool
GG: ill have to listen to it sometime!!
GG: after school i mean....
GG: when were taking a break from making phat jamz
GG: hehehehe
TG: heh
TG: yeah i guess so
GG: you said there were other stories?
GG: what else were they?
TG: well
TG: i suppose i have time
TG: waiting for the other me
TG: there was one about us being gangsters
TG: or something
TG: not like
TG: badass mofo street thugz
TG: depression era mobsters
TG: running a nightclub or something
TG: to be honest it sounded a bit like a midnight crew fanfic
TG: but with us as the main characters
GG: oooh!
TG: she also told me about a dream she had once
TG: about us being on an adventure
GG: were on an adventure now silly!
TG: like in the jungle
TG: some real indiana jones shit
TG: like if your planet turned out to be the land of forest and earth
TG: or something like that
GG: like my grampa!
GG: that would be fun!
TG: yeah
TG: anyway which one do you want to hear first
TG: there were one or two others
TG: we kinda talked for a while
GG: hmmm....

The feeling I'm trying to invoke is that the 'alternate dimension' bits exactly what's being described, but rather, as the title suggests, What May Have Been (if things came out differently). We, the readers, view but a snippet of a world wherein future!Jade's story came true. Jade just gets the described 'Cliff's Notes' version, which may or may not have been about ten lines long (three if you count Dave's occasional non-sequiteurs and habitual
line breaking
you know
that thing he does
for emphasis of course). You get to guess at what he might've characterized and what he might not've.

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So, I'm at an impasse. I want to do both of these stories (both because the idea of the kids in a film noir-esque atmosphere but acting entirely within their own characterizations makes my brain giggle and because I can't get the mental image of Jade dressed like Indy and Dave dressed like the girl from the second Indy movie with a sour look on his face out of my head. Guest-starring John as Short'n'Round!) but I can't decide which to do first.

So, in the spirit of MSPA, I'm leaving it up to you folks to decide:
Midnight Strider, or Indiana Jade and the Temple of DoomFriendship?
or,
come up with your own! Taking other peoples' ideas and claiming credit forrunning wild with them is, at its' core, the whole reason I got into the idea of writing fanfiction in the first place. Plus I'm certain most of you folks could come up with better suggestions than I.
(Disclaimer: The above conceptual chapter titles do not necessarily preclude the situations they will be in. A temple may or may not be involved, but if there is one, it will likely be desecrated.)

Forumite: discover 'hidden' vignette: 'Called Shots'

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Two sets of pale eyes watched the proceedings down the hall with interest. Stepping from behind a locker, an impeccably dressed man in a black suit and white tie with a red diamond lapel pin turned a dubious glance to the woman in the black-green business suit as she stepped from the door-alcove of her classroom, a mischevious smirk on her face. "So?" She drew a cigarette holder from within her coat and held it to her lips, although there was no cigarette on the end of it; no smoking indoors, after all. Sighing, the man looked back at the empty hall. "Those kids made this?" He held up a blood-red tape with a blue atom symbol superimposed over a broken red-and-black record. She nodded wordlessly, and he tucked the tape into the inner pocket of his coat. "You think Slick will like it?"

"Probably not, but you know him, he hates everything newer than the 1930s." The black-suited man sighed, and placed his hat atop his head. "We had to damn near twist his arm to get him to agree to some of the stuff on the album, although mentioning that you had made a bet that he wouldn't helped." The woman nodded, a smile on her face. "Good to know I was of some help after all. So you think he might give it a listen anyway?"

The man shook his head, idly fussing with a popped seam on the inside of his left sleeve, a displeased look on his face. Now he was going to have to add another trip to his errands, and he hadn't even gotten to the store yet. "Knowing you suggested it, no. I'll do what I can to get it pushed through to the board of review, though. Slick may call the shots, but I'm the one that makes things happen." The teacher and sometimes-singer gave a sultry chuckle, and turned to open the door to her classroom, glancing back at him as he started to walk away.

"What? No time to chat, Carbon Nadsat?"

Droog paused, and glanced back, knowing a challenge when he heard one; with a resigned sigh, he reached up and removed his hat, turning to face her. "Suppose I could spare a few moments, if you insist." He held the door for her. Chuckling again, she gave his tie a light tug as she passed, and he turned the faintest bit pink. "I certainly do insist. I want to see if you're as good with that cuestick as Slick says you are." The door clicked shut behind him.

Stitch could wait.

Eight ball, side pocket.

What vignette?

[Solaris]

One vote for the Indiana Jones, please.
And, how about a pirate adventure on the high seas as mentioned before on this very thread. Or one set IN SPACE. Or one where they all suddenly get superpowers (think Fantastic Four)?
Wow, I may actually write one of these myself...

[Zuki]

All of this fanfiction has just been so great. So great, like you don't even know. I want to give an individual paragraph of 'This is why I love it' to each and every one since the last time I posted.

Either that, or write more of my own as a kind of thanks.

[Masterly]

Or one where they all suddenly get superpowers

Like in Captain Planet?

[Orange]

All of this fanfiction has just been so great. So great, like you don't even know. I want to give an individual paragraph of 'This is why I love it' to each and every one since the last time I posted.

Either that, or write more of my own as a kind of thanks.

As you well know, both are appreciated in spades around here.

[Shadow of the Lotus]

Finally caught up on reading the most recent fan-fics. Basic response: Gog damn. It's like some dude working the cash register at a quickie mart got all up in the rotating hot dog maker and tossed some nacho cheese on that business; shit is god damn dripping with well-written verse. I'm gonna point out a couple I particularly enjoyed but honestly; all the fics on the past page were pretty good.

Orange: I enjoyed that and look forward to it continuing. It sounds like Rose messed up in something and Dave has to keep on coming back to help her? Interested all the same.

Spiritus: Yeah, Rose can be a bit more difficult to get down than people give her credit for I think. I think you did a pretty good job though! I really should catch up on this thread more; I still haven't read like, pages 10 to 35 or something like that. The alternate reality stuff is fun though.

VagabondRaiser: Man, you got some choice stuff. Seriously; I love what you did with like, having a fic related by Davesprite to Jade written by alternate-reality Jade (I think I got all of that down right?). I totally thought it was a different story at first (cuz I'm dumb) and enjoyed it heavily. The part with Rose & John taking a picture of Jade & Dave and then running away was awesome. I can't help but think of John giggling like an idiot and Rose fighting back her own laugh. Edit: And man, make sure you post that in the romart thread. So wish I could see that final scene art-wise. Just John and Rose running away, pissed Dave chasing, blushing Jade in the background.

[VagabondRaiser]

Spoilered because I can't shut the hell up.

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I love what you did with like, having a fic related by Davesprite to Jade written by alternate-reality Jade (I think I got all of that down right?). I totally thought it was a different story at first (cuz I'm dumb) and enjoyed it heavily.

Not dumb in the slightest! I essentially used your idea (Davesprite being sad over losing Jade) as a springboard for a bunch of otherwise unrelated AU ficlets.
Well, maybe unrelated.
But yeah, that's sort of what it was meant; future!Jade's story descriptions CONVENIENTLY match up with alternate realities and possible futures that are REMARKABLY SIMILAR.

All of this fanfiction has just been so great. So great, like you don't even know. I want to give an individual paragraph of 'This is why I love it' to each and every one since the last time I posted.

Either that, or write more of my own as a kind of thanks.

As you well know, both are appreciated in spades around here.

Seconded. Seconded so hard.

Fanfiction begetting fanfiction is the best kind of 'fic on 'fic action.

Or one where they all suddenly get superpowers

Like in Captain Planet?

GC: TH1S 1S SO YOU D4V3 COM3 ON 4DM1T 1T
I kinda wanna do that now, but I can't wrap my head around any way to do it without it turning into some seven-chapter epic with hints of almost every possible pairing under the sun.

One vote for the Indiana Jones, please.
And, how about a pirate adventure on the high seas as mentioned before on this very thread. Or one set IN SPACE.

Space pirates! Spaaaace piraaaates. Seriously though, I like both of those ideas.
That's one vote for Indiana Jones, and a space/pirate/space pirate suggestion. I won't really end up working on Chapter Three until tomorrow, probably, so there's more than enough time to come up with more VOTES and SUGJESTIONS.

[Tenebrais]

Man, so much awesome stuff in that last page. I just couldn't do it justice with a comment. I'm gonna have to write something else myself.
I just wish I could come up with an idea that has plot potential.

[Superstar]

I don't know why but i had an urge to right some kind of a monologue for Lord English. Since everyone's pretty bloody sure Lord English=Demon *a connection I'll probably get in a few more months xd* I figured to write assuming that as fact. Also had an urge to rainbow color the words, but i figured be going to far.

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Everything was going according to plan. All the pieces were falling into their rightful places. Everything was a chessboard for his own immaculate joy. Nobody could say otherwise, nobody could do otherwise. Lord English was going to town. No matter what anybody said or commanded of these… little brats, nothing would save them, not even their beloved master.

Oh sure, there was a chance some of them would survive. But then again, nothing would survive the end of the universe. It was Lord English's time to rule. Admittedly, that blasted Slades Slick did trouble him, but that fool and his little Midnight Crew stood no chance. For as long as time immemorial, rebels, vagrants, beings of immense power had come upon him, by chance, or by his own choice. They all had failed. Some undid themselves, other fools simply failed to understand that which they faced. Others failed simply because he wanted them to. In the end, as one race had said, this was a Xanatos Roulette. His favorite kind of victory.

Everything was going according to plan. Andrew Hussie, for all his toying around, his attempt to save this universe had already failed. After all, did he not already say it true?

This is a Formality. The Demon is Already Here

[Tenebrais]

Okay I got something written.

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Our queen was safely escorted to the desert world. Our purpose, served. All too soon she bade us farewell with what few belongings she thought she needed. Her freshly-laundered robes would fade quickly in the sand and sun. I had my fears that she would lose the key before she needed it. But our adored sovereign had never before shown negligence. No doubt she would make it safely to wherever it was she needed to go.

Our fates, however, were left uncertain. I did not know how many of us had come. Twenty? Fifty? A hundred? I was never much good with numbers. Still, however many of us there were, few had any skills in farming, or architecture or whatever else we would need to survive. The supplies aboard the royal cruiser would not last forever, or even especially long. We would need to organise carefully if we were to survive out here. We may well be the last survivors of Prospit. We could not die out.
We needed a leader.

I expressed my concerns to some of my companions, both old friends and new acquaintances. Between us, it was generally decided that I should lead us to survival, and perhaps even prosperity. I was unsure; I had no experience in leading or survival. I could only guess at what we might need to do to survive. But, true, I had picked up some knowledge of logistics and government when working in the palace. And certainly we would have no need for my whitewashing skills. All I needed to do was get into the right mindset. I would have to keep everyone in full health and colour. But instead of paint, I would be using food and shelter...

First priority was to take count, both of how many people we had, and how many supplies remained on the ship. We would have to depend on it for now. Some of my larger, louder friends helped to organise. There were forty-four of us, and on board there was a wide range of foodstuffs, though for all its variety it probably wouldn't last us more than a month unsupplemented. These fruits and grains would provide us with seeds to grow more, if only we could find fertile land to till. Desert stretched as far as the eye could see.
There we clouds in the sky, and this planet had once supported abundant life. All that nutrition can't have just disappeared. Finding it was a mystery few of us were suited to – the majority of the population of Prospit were engineers, guards, and menial labourers. The geologists, biologists and logisticians were an elite caste, and most of them worked out in the Veil. It was more than we could hope for to find someone that had ridden a meteor through a portal to Earth as it is now. We would have to solve this mystery on our own.

One of the engineers had an idea. Water tends to fall, and soak through things. We might be able to find it below this sand. It was the best idea we had to go on, so we dug. The cruiser did not carry and tools save for what we had brought on board with us, so some of us pulled out parts of the interior to use as shovels. The ship wouldn't fly again.
At least a dozen labourers worked to dig a pit in the sand. They went on for hours. Myself and the engineer that had come up with the plan watched on. He was clearly an intelligent man. I would have to come up with a name for him that I might identify him and ask for further advice later. Curse our society's tradition of carbon-copied faceless masses. Things would have to change if we were to last out here.
Apparently the other survivors had together come up with a name for me. They called me Ms Paint. I was okay with this. It was not an elegant name – I think – but I did not wish to get ideas above my station.

Work continued through the day. The sun was getting low on the horizon now. The pit had become very large, and quite deep – I would guess at least three times as deep as the cruiser was tall. The deepest point, in the very middle, was occupied by the largest and strongest of the labourers. I would need to name him too. A commotion was forming around him. Someone from the pit called to me, so I climbed down to investigate.
The yellow sand was darker as the pit got lower, and at the very bottom was a small circle of brown. I touched it. It was damp. We had found water.

Confidence grew within me. We could survive out here.

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If I continue this, I'm going to need names for the brainy engineer and the big labourer! Treat this as a bit of interactivity: Name Ms Paint's assistants!

[Valter]

Fritz Kibbles and Johnny Rocket.

I'm working on something myself, but it'll probably be a while before it's done. It's a bit... long

[Orange]

Fritz Kibbles and Johnny Rocket.

I'm working on something myself, but it'll probably be a while before it's done. It's a bit... long

Gimp and Pixen. Or, replacing Gimp, Krita. (All are names of paint/photoshop like programs! )

Anywho! Moving right along, here's the next chapter of that thing I'm writing. Yeah.

The River
(Or "God Damn It: In Which Gods Are Damned")
Chapter 2: Switchback
(And yes, the chapter titles from here on out are both related to the fic's theme and content, and also are listening suggestions.)

Rose:

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TT: If my past self can wake up sooner, maybe I'll be the one to visit you first this time.
TT: I'll fly by and remind you you're already awake and don't know it.
TG: yeah thatd be cool i guess
TG: im gonna go now
TT: Good luck.

That was the last she had heard from him. However shoddily executed, however hasty and reckless it may be, this was the plan. She had long since agreed to it, knowing it to be an inevitability, and couldn't say no.

She didn't have to be happy about it. In fact, her once inchoate anger at the prospect had only escalated as time went on, and ultimately it had exhausted itself, only to metamorphose into a hard lump in her throat. Rose was no longer angry, and no longer afraid, she realized. She was ready to go to sleep, yes, but oh so ready to wake up.

She knew that she would awaken, of course. Maybe not here, no, but in all likelihood in an altogether better place than this one.

And so, she laid herself down in her cozy pile of overwrought knitting attempts, curled into herself as tight as she could, and did her best to fall into that precious state of slumber.

~~~

It wasn't long at all before she woke up. It felt as though she had only been asleep minutes; maybe even less than that. She felt very light, truth be told. Inside, she wondered briefly if upon opening her eyes she would be gazing upon her perception of the afterlife-- and, very suddenly, she willed herself from a manic state as she thought loudly to herself, "I do believe in an afterlife."

Then, in infinitesimal, almost imperceptible increments, Rose opened her eyes.

Her heart did not feel as though it stopped. Rather, it felt as though it had started beating so hard that it had leapt from her chest and gone on without her, off to pursue other adventures elsewhere. The lump in her throat felt like it was expanding to choke her into unconsciousness once again; a feeling which she nigh-succumbed to.

She had gone nowhere at all.

Dave(Sprite):

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Alright, maybe, just maybe he was not familiar enough with the fantastically delicious bowl chock full of crunchy clusterfucks that was Sburb. So it was a testament to his incredibly massive patience, his colossal amount of cool, that he wasn't flipping out right now. (Seriously; if monkeys witnessed his patience they'd be worshiping it like a god damn monolith like in that stupid Kubrick movie.)

The Real Dave-- or, less arguably, the Dave that wasn't him, had just entered his first gate in a silly ass plush suit. Davesprite probably would've done the same thing in his position, just in a less less unironic and chump-like fashion. And he knew, as was part of the (haha, oh man, sarcasm) rules, he couldn't follow this Dave through the first gate. He'd have to wait until this penultimate-ironic-player reached the god damn third gate to commence to those fuckin' happy fun times.

So what he should be doing, right now, is drawing up some deliriously ironic webcomics. Just because it's the apocalypse, are people goin' to stop reading his magnificent work of avant-garde fuckin' genius? Shit naw. So why should he stop making them at a time like this, when people need hope in a most ironic form?

Because of a motherfuckin' glitch. At least he's calling it a glitch, so obviously that's what it's gotta be. Moronic terminology better respect and understand. Why the hell else would he be on Rose's damn planet CAW? God damn it.

"Hold the motherfuckin' phone," he squawks, the ground beneath him lurching suddenly downward. "Why the hell-ass is this island sinking?" Flying up to get a better look, even the world's coolest (and only) half-bird dude can't help but squawk in utter surprise.

Turtles. Gigantic fucking turtles. Everywhere.

A/N:

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Sorry, I really like alliteration sometimes.

And in response, VagabondRaiser: it's more that I'm not all that confident in writing them outside of the pesterchum logs. Not necessarily that I'm bad at it. It's really easy for me to write people like Karkat and Sollux, but Dave is funny a lot of the time, which is something I have to struggle to do effectively, and Rose is complex yet subtle, at least in my mind. Developing her character in this fic will take a bit for me to do.

[PaulPower]

Extended Savior of the Waking World a bit since NoobOfLore mentioned in a PM that it finished way before the song did.

Now it's just about long enough that if you read it very slowly, it syncs with the music . Hopefully the stuff I've added isn't too padding-y.

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John hovered on his rocket pack over the Land of Wind and Shade, surveying the damage and cursing Jack Noir bitterly. He'd really gone to town on the Medium lately. Dave's planet was already smashed to bits, with Dave himself only just making it to Jade's world in time. Now his own planet was in a bad way, too. Knocked out of its orbit, with lava seeping from the ground everywhere, it was not going to be inhabitable for much longer.

But if he couldn't save the world, he could still save some of its people. Refugee salamanders were pouring into the two Gate 2s, heading to Rose and Jade's worlds. It had taken a lot to convince the others to go through with it, a lot of crazy coordination, and a lot of stair building up the pillars they stood on, but they'd got an exit strategy together. He'd even spent a bunch of excess grist repeatedly cloning his dad's umbrella, just in case some of the salamanders got a bit lost and fell off of something. It worked in Lemmings, right? And this sure felt a lot like Lemmings, guiding creatures up a bunch of stairs to safe exits. So maybe Lemmings physics would apply.

Maybe it was bit of a waste of limited time and resources. Maybe it wasn't going to help them beat or break the game. And maybe it would be kinda futile if Jack's rampage was only going to continue on the other two planets. But he felt he had to do something for the salamanders. None of this was their fault. They'd just been created to populate a nice, normal game of SBurb and get on with their salamandery lives. They didn't drop an armed and dangerous bunny into the hands of the enemy. He was their Heir, the guy they were all supposed to be looking up to. They'd carried him around on their shoulders when he'd heroically watched something else put a fire out. Okay, so they weren't the sharpest cards in the sylladex, but he could hardly talk.

Besides, he couldn't just run away from this planet without trying to help others escape too. Running away on your own was cowardice: running away with others was a tactical withdrawl. Didn't Charles Barkley say something like that?

A voice floated up from the crowd below him, interrupting his thoughts. "My baby! Where's my baby?". John zoomed down to where he'd heard the voice, and saw a salamander that he vaguely recognised from somewhere. He wasn't quite sure how he recognised her. She wasn't wearing a crumpled top hat or a bedsheet, but somehow she seemed familiar. Clearing his throat, he summed up all of his powers of movie cliche. "What seems to be the trouble, ma'am?"

"M... my baby. I haven't seen her since she went away with you. Where is she?"
"... ah. Right." John definitely knew who this salamander was now.
"Well? Is she safe?"
"Um... one moment please."

EB: rose, is casey there?
TT: Casey?
EB: uh... viceroy von salamancer?
TT: Oh. Yes, yes he is.
TT: Why?
EB: i've got a loving wife here who needs reuniting with her daughter...

[Solaris]

Í‘TÌ*Ì*̪̄̏̉̃̂̀h̷̴͇̟ͨ̾̃̉ͯe̹̦͌͜ ̷̤̘̃ͣ̄͂ͥ̂̓̌D̵̂̊͏Ì*e̥̥̣̞̞͆̍ͨ̾̾̀m͖̻̟̙̩̳̝͕̖͑̽o̙͛͌̍̿̂ͦ̌͊͘͢n̨͎̘̪͍̮͖̤Ì*ͪͦ͊� �…ͥͥͫͣ͒ Ì*̫̗͉̺̮̣̗̯ͣ͟Ä� �̟͕̩̦̥̱͍͗̇͐͂� �šs̴̩̹̦͇͕̱͔͛ͪ͘͘ Ì*̯̦͖̰͈̥ͥ̾͐͑Ì� �̿͞Å͙̗̯͈̱̂̏͐̽͛͆̏̚͘Ì*͇̖̗l̍̇Í� �͗̈̈́̓ͬ͜Ì*̮̖̪̖̲͎r͖ͮͤ͜͟e̘͚͗̃ͤͬ̾ͥ̆ͮa̡͉̲͛̂̆͘dͥ̚͏͖̖̞̫̞y͓͖ͦ͒͜Ì*Ì*Ì*͚̜͉ ͥ̀͂͏̞̥̼̜ͅH̛͈̞̫̹̩̰̝ͣ̄͆e̛͈͎̱̩̒̾͐ͧ̈̽Í� �Ì‚r̯̺̩̈ͧ̆̕͞e̞͍̼̝̱ͧ̇̇̇̊̈́ͨͬ͘͢.Ì*̆ͬͣͤÍ*͝

What am I looking at?

[Orange]

What am I looking at?

Nothing at all.

[VagabondRaiser]

What am I looking at?

A systematically colorized selection of text drawn up from The Zalgo Text Generator. I used to have something of the sort in my sig, but I got a complaint from another forumite because (as it would seem) not every browser is capable of handling it. Firefox and Chrome can, but beyond that I'm not sure. On browsers incompatible with the text, it ridiculously fucks up the screen. Something about how the HTML is decoded, I think.

That's why my sig is as it is now (What? Nothing to see here.). I'm working (albeit haltingly) on a gif of it incorporating about fourty renditions of the 'zalgotext' in a looping animation, to get both the 'awesome text' effect plus the 'not fucking up peoples' browsers' effect.

For reference, Zalgo was a meme spread on 4chan wherein people would edit pictures to have bleeding eyes and blackness and crap, and post with the screwed up writing. To wit,

To invoke the hive-mind representing chaos.
Invoking the feeling of chaos.
With out order.
The Nezperdian hive-mind of chaos. Zalgo.
He who Waits Behind The Wall.
ZALGO!

I don't rightly recall what Zalgo itself came from, likely to do with matters of the illythid and their ilk.

Edit: Ninja'd, also fixing a borken quote.

Secondary edit, spoilered for general gabbiness:

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Orange, I can understand what you're getting at regarding Rose's characterization (she always seemed to me more of a 'witty+intelligent+self-assured' to me, her subtleties borne not of a desire to be subtle but rather simply a by-product of her intelligence; she's smart, she knows she's smart, she doesn't feel the need to wave it about like a flag, but can't help but display her intelligence in her mannerisms and actions) but Dave never came off as being just plain funny. Much as with his insistence on finding (and portraying) irony in everything, many of his jokes come off to me as a thin veneer of façade, a front he puts up purely as instinctual reflex resulting from the kind of upbringing only Bro could produce. It's most notable in the moments when he's clearly agitated, he tends to drop some of the pretenses of joking around (like when he's talking to Rose about going back to keep John from flying off like some spazzy douche). He's still as foulmouthed as any sailor, he just lays off the dick jokes in favor of straight up vitriol (which incidentally just makes me think of Dave being a younger Yahtzee Croshaw in some ways: cursing, anger, and disdain for the majority of the world, self-assured in his own superiority, fond of dick jokes, loved by many for being honest to a fault, and liable to melt down into simple writhing anger when his own shortcomings are pointed out.)
No offense to any Yahtzee fans, I find his videos quite entertaining, I just give his reviews about most games the same regard as I do Sony's view on 'motion controls'.

Anyway, I digress. I see what you're getting at with both of them. If it's any help, my methodology for writing Dave in conversation is basically this:
1) Topic.
2) Casual profanity.
3) Pop culture reference. Or obscure reference. Or even self-reference. Reference in general, really.
4) Blend well.
?) Far more carrying on than necessary (to taste).
5) A heaping gob of objective introspection if the topic is a matter of importance.
Serves six to twelve, depending on line breaks, recurring gags, and non-linear conversation.

Think I'ma start a second 'fic on the side about Rose (or more likely, given me being a hopeless romantic, Rosex[insertcharacterhere]). I really wanna characterize the Seer now.

[Superstar]

Í‘TÌ*Ì*̪̄̏̉̃̂̀h̷̴͇̟ͨ̾̃̉ͯe̹̦͌͜ ̷̤̘̃ͣ̄͂ͥ̂̓̌D̵̂̊͏Ì*e̥̥̣̞̞͆̍ͨ̾̾̀m͖̻̟̙̩̳̝͕̖͑̽o̙͛͌̍̿̂ͦ̌͊͘͢n̨͎̘̪͍̮͖̤Ì*ͪͦ͊� �…ͥͥͫͣ͒ Ì*̫̗͉̺̮̣̗̯ͣ͟Ä� �̟͕̩̦̥̱͍͗̇͐͂� �šs̴̩̹̦͇͕̱͔͛ͪ͘͘ Ì*̯̦͖̰͈̥ͥ̾͐͑Ì� �̿͞Å͙̗̯͈̱̂̏͐̽͛͆̏̚͘Ì*͇̖̗l̍̇Í� �͗̈̈́̓ͬ͜Ì*̮̖̪̖̲͎r͖ͮͤ͜͟e̘͚͗̃ͤͬ̾ͥ̆ͮa̡͉̲͛̂̆͘dͥ̚͏͖̖̞̫̞y͓͖ͦ͒͜Ì*Ì*Ì*͚̜͉ ͥ̀͂͏̞̥̼̜ͅH̛͈̞̫̹̩̰̝ͣ̄͆e̛͈͎̱̩̒̾͐ͧ̈̽Í� �Ì‚r̯̺̩̈ͧ̆̕͞e̞͍̼̝̱ͧ̇̇̇̊̈́ͨͬ͘͢.Ì*̆ͬͣͤÍ*͝

What am I looking at?

Depends. When you quote it, you're looking at a lot of literal color-coding that was annoying to do, and I don't know why I did.

That is AWESOME.

Looking at that is absolutely AWESOME. I.... I need to... AWESOME. Oh ye gods, now i need to write more. A different... story... yes... okay. I also need to find an excuse to use that special special work of coding in it if that's cool.

Also your story is looking quite nice as well. The way the words are arranged has me in rapt rejoicing.

Also PaulPower- that is inspiring. Savior of the waking world indeed. Its people.

[Orange]

That is AWESOME.

Looking at that is absolutely AWESOME. I.... I need to... AWESOME. Oh ye gods, now i need to write more. A different... story... yes... okay. I also need to find an excuse to use that special special work of coding in it if that's cool.

Also your story is looking quite nice as well. The way the words are arranged has me in rapt rejoicing.

Also PaulPower- that is inspiring. Savior of the waking world indeed. Its people.

If you're talking about my story, thanks. If you're talking about Vagabond's, that sounds even more fitting.

And, uh, don't really have any rights to the Zalgo text, and really any body can use it, though I don't think anyone would want to read anything written in Zalgo text, at least not in large amounts. And Vagabond is right; it can mess up browsing for some folk, so I probably shouldn't have used it even in jest, really. I fully support Lord English having rainbow text, however~

[Superstar]

Well, after all this, it seems I have not had enough of the "Bad End" So, here we go are again. This time, with major color spamming. I am still not quite sure how to go with this so do let me know what you think. I've got my reasons for going this path but it is more important i know what the readers think.

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“Lord English: The Beginning of the End.”

All around the staircase, the bodies of his separate pieces lay fallen, decorating it with blood. The bodies had been frozen in time, preserved just for this moment, this ambiance so to speak. There was a second reason though, something that required proximity. In this universe, this “try” so to speak, those bodies were the key. The law of this “try” was simple, for him to exist while he was still sealed, he must separate his powers into 15 separate pieces. Each piece had control over a separate piece of time. Slades Slick, an incarnation of Jack Noir had done him most of the work, and now the favor had been returned.

Lord English stood over them all, a dark smile on his face; you could see it in his eyes as well. It said that we they were all going to die. Giving his Cairo Overcoat a little tug, he casually punted the corpse of the 12x proto-typed Jack Noir off his grand stage. As it fell to the darkness below, he deigned it necessary to change Jack's outfit to one of a certain hat and dress Jack had oh so hated. It gave him a good laugh.
He had to give Jack some credit though, for getting as far as his throne. However, unfortunately for the poor fool, that is where his patience had ended. Thus, he died. His crown shattered, his rods broken, the precious rings severed from his hands and cast into where they had originally been made.

This was the second time, in the timeline of this “try” that he had killed the one known as Jack Noir. There were rules to the universe, despite what he had the ability to manipulate. There can only be two different Lord English. The one already freed, and the one to be freed. It brought him great joy, to have killed him two times, out of the infinite more that had been spawned from Skaia. Sighing to himself, he looked down upon his guests and smiled. For they were the reason he was here. They had called him here, to the place he could not enter.

LE: Terribly Sorry about that, I had not expected such a... rebellious hand puppet.
LE: I hope you will forgive the lack of hospitality.
LE: Oh no! Do not stand on my account,
LE: just stay right where you are.
LE: I will be right with you.

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.
SnOwman saved herself the agony of attempting to walk the steps by jumping down landing behind him.

She was the only key left, the only thing keeping him locked up. To kill her would end the universe.

It was a Formality. The Demon is already here.

Before his fun this time ended though, he was going to enjoy every last breath these children took. Let the end begin.



"======>======>======>"

A/N

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I kept this SOLELY in third person while focusing on Lord English alone. I didn't describe anything but what he himself saw and felt etc. etc.

Thusly, you don't know which set of children is standing before him yet. But honestly, I think you already know. I hope anyways. xd.
Second Note: THIS WAS A PAIN! ALL THE COLOR CLICKING..

OH GOD. I hate myself for doing this over and over and over, as I'm going to be doing. Heck if i could find some kind of BB code for I don't know "character rainbowification" I'd be so happy. Yea like that's going to happen..

Also just in case you didn't get it, when he, or his etc. is colored that's Lord English I am referring to, it is a pain and half to keep typing his name so I am just gonna put a voldemort effect to it without making the name longer. Much simpler.... NOT! I am totally rambling I should stop that.
By the way, please let me know what you think on the colors and whether i need to stop spamming them so bloody much or not. Also backgrounds might be needed for some of that.

[VagabondRaiser]

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@Superstar:
Holy shit, that had to be a lot of clicking. Better than me, though, I'd've wrote out every [color] [/color] bit by hand. I love playing with code and color.
(Seriously, I'd be Sollux if I wound up as a troll. Just, y'know, not nearly as awesome.)
It took me a second to 'adjust' my brain a bit for the color reading; some of those colors seem to almost blend into the background, but then, that just makes it all the more awesome. I love the way you personified Lord English. I can imagine him adjusting a monocle as he spoke. Every step, every motion causing a ripple in the fabric of spacetime. He'd be damn near impossible to look straight at because he exists at all times and none at the same time. It'd be like looking at a picture of someone through a heat mirage while wearing beer goggles.
Except it would make your head feel like it was trying to come apart at the atomic level.

So...
I...
...um...
The latest update just... flicked a switch in my head.

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--- apocalypseArisen [AA] began trolling turntechGodhead [TG] ---
AA: y0u
AA: y0u are the 0ne who self-pr0t0typed fr0m the future
AA: c0rrect
TG: what
TG: aw fuck
TG: another one of you assholes
TG: why now
AA: 0_0
AA: d0 n0t be alarmed
AA: i stated that i w0uld not tr0ll y0u
AA: 0r y0ur friends
AA: and i meant it
TG: so what
TG; you just wanted to chat
TG: sharing shitty little cookies over tea
TG: or what
TG: im kinda busy
AA: s0meh0w i d0ubt that
AA: y0ure just waiting f0r y0ur past d0uble
TG: oh
TG: right
TG: forgot
TG: you guys have those like
TG: freaky-ass dimensional supercomputers
TG: what do you do anyway
AA: i am the 0ne in charge 0f timeline management
AA: the maid 0f time
TG: oh
TG: so youre the girl the blind one talked about
TG: anyway what the fuck do you want
TG: miss 0h s0 0bvi0us
AA: y0u intrigue me
AA: knight 0f time
AA: y0u thr0ugh n0 act 0f f00lishness ch0se to self-pr0t0type
AA: yet y0u were still very much alive
AA: s0 why
TG: honestly
TG: because i thought it would be fuckin awesome
TG: i always wanted to be a giant floating creamsicle
TG: a feathery douchebag
TG: with a cheap-ass sword through my chest
AA: 0_0
AA: y0u are being sarcastic
TG: shit youre fast
TG: one of your buddies still hasnt figured it out yet
TG: tHE ONE, WHO TALKS LIKE THIS, i THINK,
AA: tavr0s
AA: he always was t00 gullible
AA: but it was endearing
TG: thats great
TG: now what the hell do you want
TG: im trying to tell stories here
AA: i have been reading y0ur st0ries
AA: i have als0 seen them 0ccur
AA: in an0ther dimensi0n
TG: your point is
TG: what
TG: that im just a mouthpiece for some multidimensional bullshit
TG: or what
TG: is this gonna be one of those
TG: you are the creator
TG: you make worlds bullshit
TG: because seriously
TG: i dont have time for this
AA: y0u are very 0bvi0us
AA: i can tell y0u are b0thered by n0 l0nger being human
AA: n0rmal
AA: i find that fact interesting
AA: i wish t0 meet y0u
TG: um
TG: ok
TG: if this is you trying to troll me
TG: and creep me the fuck out
TG: its working
TG: seriously
TG: congradufuckinglations
TG: a winner is you
AA: it is n0t an attempt t0 tr0ll
AA: i am interested in y0u
TG: you keep saying that word
TG: i dont think it means what you think it means
TG: are you in love with me or something
TG: or whatever the fuck your people call it
AA: ha
AA: ha
AA: y0u are n0t dead but y0u are a kernelsprite n0w
AA: y0u still get t0 feel
AA: could y0u teach me h0w to feel again
AA: i w0nder
TG: ok
TG: thats it
TG: im officially freaked the fuck out
TG: im outta here

--- turntechGodhead [TG] blocked apocalypseArisen [AA] ---

AA: 0_0
[[MESSAGE COULD NOT BE SENT: AA: 0_0]]
AA: i supp0se i was t00 f0rward
[[MESSAGE COULD NOT BE SENT: AA: i supp0se i was t00 f0rward]]
AA: i supp0se i sh0uld try an0ther time
[[MESSAGE COULD NOT BE SENT: AA: i supp0se i sh0uld try an0ther time]]
AA: yes
[[MESSAGE COULD NOT BE SENT: AA: yes]]
AA: perhaps when he is 0lder
[[MESSAGE COULD NOT BE SENT: AA: perhaps when he is 0lder]]
AA: ha
[[MESSAGE COULD NOT BE SENT: AA: ha]]
AA: ha
[[MESSAGE COULD NOT BE SENT: AA: ha]]
AA: ha
[[MESSAGE COULD NOT BE SENT: AA: ha]]

--- apocalypseArisen [AA] has signed out ---

So... yeah.
I love the sherbet pairing (Davesprite/Jade(sprite)) but now I can't get the idea of a series of vignettes wherein Davesprite 'retrains' Aradiasprite to be 'normal' out of my head. BLUH. Now I have to make room in my brain for apples'n'oranges. And I already liked chocolate mint. Damn these flavor-based pairing nicknames, now I'm getting hungry.

[Orange]

@SuperStar:
This is much better to me than your previous, and I mean that in a good way. I actually like this Lord English, as a villain, even if some of the foreshadowing lines don't actually make much sense. Also, the rainbow effect works rather nicely.

@VagabondRaiser:
JUST, OH MAN, I LITERALLY MENTIONED THIS EXACT KIND OF SCENARIO NOT EVEN TWO HOURS AGO. AGH. I really like what you've written here, and I even agree with your terribly tiny text, which you coooould have just put in a spoiler. XD Anyway! I do like it. I'll have to try my hand at this. (SHERBET PAIRINGS, THAT'S THE BEST WAY TO REFER TO THAT)

Also, in response to the gabiness:

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Haha, holy shite, a recipe for DAVE. That's amazing, and pretty accurate. I probably do need more pop culture references, which would sound horrible saying that about writing anyone except for Dave, oh god.

Also, yeah, he reminds me of yahtzee sometimes as well. Or some kind of paradox-hipster-kid version of Denis Leary; in terms of vulgarity anyway.

[DocBeard]

VagabondRaiser, I'm digging your work. Hope to see more of it!

Edit: Took the story down for some reconstructive surgery. Thanks to VagabondRaiser and Tenebris for their feedback.

[Tenebrais]

That's pretty cute! Kind of weird, but the characters interact nicely.