MSPA fan fiction 2

[Tenebrais]

Nepeta is actually 416600.

[KarneWarrior]

In my experience it does that automaticly. If only it spellchecked too!

[Nakkirz]

Nakkirz, I'm loving your Felt series! Can't wait until they meet Lord English and/or Doc Scratch!

I'm glad you're enjoying the story! And good news for you- in one of the next two parts, they'll be having a little bit of contact (though some indirect) with those two personages~
On that note, next part!

Old parts:

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Part 1: http://www.mspaforums.com/showthread...=1#post4060872
Part 2: http://www.mspaforums.com/showthread...=1#post4061592
Part 3: http://www.mspaforums.com/showthread...=1#post4068410
Part 4: http://www.mspaforums.com/showthread...=1#post4079916

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They trekked through the sands for a week and a half, then; the nameless tall man leading, Fin behind him, Cans carrying little Clover and the sickly Die- sickly, strange, morbid Die, who seemed to never be able to carry a conversation for his odd, panicked attention span; the short nameless man traveled beside him, and Trace following up from behind. During this time, they found no more abandoned shelters or caravans; all they had was horizon and sky, and an endless expanse of sand. Every once in a while, the short man thought he could see something on the horizon- a shimmering, angular conglomeration of shapes; but every time he tried to look closer, it would disappear into the shimmering heat. Finally, on the twelfth day since they had found their final member, their rations were almost gone. Grimly, their scout announced his opinion that there was nothing out there, now; but Clover shushed him and urged everyone to go on, that they just had to travel a little further. Grumbling, they moved forward for one day more, but by then patience was wearing thin. Eventually Trace got into a terrible quarrel with Clover, and eventually they decided to make camp, against Clover’s wishes to keep moving.

That night, Clover sat sullenly near the edge of the camp they’d made, keeping Die company with the short, nameless man. The poor man had grown worse as they’d traveled; frail as he was, he managed to become a little weaker every day. Both Clover and the short man, who had grown to be friendly with the reclusive chap, were worried for him. It was a solemn time when, as a last hope, Clover asked the tall, fast man to do one last scouting mission for him. Just to make sure.

“…So… do you think this is it?...” the short man asked him, as they sat in a circle near the edge of camp. Clover looked somberly at him, and his lavender eyes matched the other’s blue ones.

“Do I think this is what?” Clover snapped, somewhat gloomily.

“…The end… of course…”

“No. This can’t be the end. It… It just can’t. We couldn’t have gone this far to amount to nothing,” Clover replied, trying to give his voice the force it used to have- now, there was nothing but a waver in it. He gave an angry sigh, and glanced over to where Die sat just out of earshot, staring silently up into the sky with a vaguely pensive, confused expression on his gaunt face- his general expression. Clover shuffled a little further across the sand to his slow friend, and continued. “The cue always seemed to allude that we were moving to serve some greater purpose… that we didn’t run out into this wasteland just to die. But… But I- I’m not even sure I trust it, now…”

“…Please… stop referring to it… as if it were… living,” his friend replied; “You know… that it makes me… uncomfortable.”

“Ugh, sorry,” Clover apologized quickly, shaking his head. “It just… It just always slips out.” With another sigh, he slouched, softly leaning against the other man’s shoulder. He could feel that his little friend was tired beyond belief. The man had never realized that he was so small, before… Clover’s larger-than-life personality usually made up for his stature. Now that it was dampened with despair he could feel exactly how tiny and hopeless his friend was.

“I don’t want to die out here,” Clover said quietly. He was squinting, beneath his round-rimmed glasses- trying to control himself. “I don’t want to die, period. Oh, god…” His eyes screwed shut, and with a small sob he lifted his glasses and wiped his eyes, filled with tears. The slow man was shocked. He couldn’t remember if he’d ever seen Clover weep. Awkwardly, he pulled his arm out and wrapped it around Clover’s tiny shoulders; a reassurance.

“We aren’t going to die out here,” came a soft, cracked voice. He looked up- it was Die. The man talked so little that the sound of his voice was still unfamiliar.

“Whuh- what?” Clover sniffed, looking up to Die through fogging glasses. “Wuh-what do you mean? Of course we’ll d- …die….”

“We aren’t going to die,” Die repeated, certainty somehow imbued in his weak whisper. “We’ll only properly expire centuries from now. We’re too far gone to perish out here. Too far gone, too far gone to his machinations…” Die trailed off quietly, lapsing back into silence. He wavered for a moment where he sat, gazing into the cloudless sky.

Too far gone to his machinations? The slow man thought. What does he mean by that?... Who does he mean by that?

“Die,” he said, slowly, after a moment, making the man whirl around to look at him, wide-eyed; “who is… ‘he?’”

“Who is… he?” Die repeated, a sudden terror coming into his nameless expression. “D… don’t you know? Doesn’t he whisper to you, too? …Am I the only one who hears his murmurs, his shouts… his commands??” As he continued, his face grew more and more deranged, more panicked, more desperate.

“No, I- what? Die… I don’t understand! ...Who is he?” the nameless man replied, exasperated and somewhat alarmed by Die’s rambling. Clover, too, was gaining interest; Die’s little outburst made him sit up and wipe his eyes dry, the familiar shine of interest in his little eyes.

Die was deathly silent for a moment, his bloodshot green eyes wide in fright, face frozen in disbelief and desperation. Only two words left his lips.

“CLOVEEEEEERRRRR!”

Die, Clover, and the nameless man all jumped and gave various sounds of surprise as they heard the sudden shout; Clover whirled around at his name, searching for its’ source- which was, to his shock, their tall, nameless scout, who had a huge, toothy grin plastered on his face.

“CLOVERCLOVERCLOVER! I FOUND IT I FOUND IT I FOUND IT!!!!! WE’RE NOT GOING TO DIE! WE’RE GONNA SURVIVE, WE’LL LIVE! WE’LL LIVE!!!” he hollered as he danced around feverishly in the sand around the shell-shocked little man, throwing up dust with his frantic feet.

“W- wuh- what?”

“I found it! I found it!! It was right under our noses, all this time!!” his tall friend shouted gleefully, grabbing Clover by the shoulders. By now, the other party members had gathered around at their scout’s merry whooping. “I found what we’re looking for! It’s a mansion! It’s our target, that nameless target we were all looking for!”

“You found our treasure?” Trace asked, disbelieving.

“Our objective?” Clover stuttered, eyes wide.

“Our final destination?” the slow man intoned incredulously.

To all these questions, his friend could do nothing but nod and grin widely. “It’s not too far! It’s only a few dozen miles away! A- AND we can make it before moonset if we all go RIGHT NOW!!” he shouted, too excited to contain his enthusiasm. It seemed to be contagious, too- because Clover’s eyes were dry and sparkling with energy, now, and his all too familiar charisma had returned to him. A change came over the rest of the crew, as well- Fin’s face was pulled up in a snaggle-toothed grin, Cans was standing straight and tall, and even Trace’s incredulous expression had hope in it again.

“What are we waiting for, then?! You all heard the man! Let’s move!” Fin shouted, clapping his hands together, and in that moment the entire group was a whirl of activity- Trace packing up their few remaining supplies, Clover hopping up onto Cans’ shoulder and starting to call instructions, their speedy scout jumping around and fidgeting as he waited for them all to hurry up and get moving.

“Alright!” Clover shouted as everything was packed up; “Everyone up but the scout!” As the other of the team clambered up onto Cans- with the short man carefully herding the confused Die onto his shoulders- and secured themselves in the giant’s grip, Clover called: “You- I want you to run as FAST as you can, and lead us to our prize, okay?!” Suddenly, Die looked panicked. He tried to shout, but his voice was still too quiet and raspy for anyone to hear: “W- wait, Clover, I don’t-“

“YOU GOT IT! READYSETGO!!!!” The short man’s friend was off like a bullet, running so fast they could barely see him.

“AFTER HIM, CANS!!”

With an ecstatic roar, Cans loped after the man, following his path their messenger melted into the sand (for, indeed, he was running fast enough to liquefy and harden the sand into molten green glass). He ran quickly and powerfully, still incredibly strong even after the recent fatigue- but some others on board weren’t doing so well.

“Wuh- no- Clover, stop him! L-let me off! I don’t want to go!” Die was pleading desperately with Clover, who had confusion etched into his face. “I don’t- I don’t care if you want to go there, but p-please! I- I don’t think I can take it-“

“What are you talking about?! This is what we were always seeking, you included! Why don’t you want to go there?!” Clover retorted, incredulous. “Are you insane?!”

“I- I can’t go there- I, I don’t think- I don’t think I can t-take actually being NEAR h-him… his voice was b-bad enough, so strange and bright a-and so p-painfully colorful a-and-“

“For the last time, WHO IS HE?” Clover asked, with annoyance heavy in his voice. “If you don’t tell me who it is I’ll- oh, I don’t know-“

“I- I told you-“

“No you didn’t! So shut up! Even if there IS someone there, it ISN’T the voice in your head, alright?! You are coming with us and that’s FINAL!”

“Buh- but…” Die looked pleadingly, wretchedly into Clover’s face, and for a moment he was mumbling incoherently. No one really knows what happened next, though. To the short man, it seemed that a strange sound passed right through the world- a rumble, or a ‘ping,’ or something indescribable- and all of a sudden, Die’s eyes snapped wide open in shock; then, with a small groan, he slumped backwards, falling unconsciously onto the short man. Luckily, he caught him before he could fall overboard to his death in the burning, flying sand and glass shards.

“Wh… what the hell was that??” he yelped, looking to Clover for an explanation. But Clover simply sat there, dumbfounded, and shook his head in confusion as Cans bounded through the sand, bringing them ever closer to their mysterious target.

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Blaaah, I feel like this part is a little weaker than the last ones, especially the ending. :I Oh well.
Also, Clover is totally afraid of death. I think it would probably be his greatest fear, because he'd probably equate it with him losing his good luck, which would be his OTHER big fear.

Enjoy! :B

[Raikonos]

So a while ago I made this thing, not realizing that this thread was a better alternative than making a new thread about it. sorry

Anyway, mostly due to boredom and free time, I made another one. Enjoy.

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Welcome to TrollTalk v3.2!
Your current nickname is carcinoGeneticist [CG].

/CHUMPLIST ONLINEONLY
The following chumps are currently online:
adiosToreador [AT]
gallowsCalibrator [GC]
sedentaryOverseer [SO]
terminallyCapricious [TC]
twinArmageddons [TA]

/OPENROOM CRAB FACTORY
You have opened the room CRAB FACTORY.

Now trolling in CRAB FACTORY.

/INVITE TWINARMAGEDDONS
twinArmageddons [TA] has been invited to CRAB FACTORY.

twinArmageddons [TA] has joined CRAB FACTORY.
[TA] 2up KK
[*CG] YOU READY?
[TA] who ii2 thii2 guy youre 2o eager two troll, anyway?
[*CG] FUCK IF I KNOW.
[*CG] THE GUY’S JUST A COMPLETE AND UTTER WASTE OF SPACE.
[*CG] I’M HONESTLY SURPRISED HE HASN’T BEEN CULLED.
[TA] 2eems2 liike the culler2 have been 2lackiing off iin our generatiion.
[*CG] YEAH, I MEAN
[*CG] YOU KNOW.
[*CG] TAVROS.
[TA] damn KK, you can’t even go ten 2entence2 wiithout beiing an a22hole can you?
[*CG] I WASN’T SAYING I WANTED HIM TO BE CULLED.
[*CG] I MEAN HE’S SORT OF ANNOYING AND HE TYPES LIKE A TOOL.
[*CG] BUT HE’S STILL MY FRIEND.
[*CG] I’M JUST SAYING THAT, IF THE CULLERS WERE DOING THEIR JOBS, HE PROBABLY WOULD HAVE BEEN.
[*CG] GODDAMN WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS JUMPING DOWN MY PROTEIN CHUTE WITH THIS SHIT?
[TA] liike iit2 my fault youre 2uch a quiiveriing cartiilage nub about everythiing.
[*CG] ALRIGHT, LET’S NOT START DOING THIS SHIT AGAIN.
[*CG] CAN WE AT LEAST SAVE IT UNTIL AFTER WE GET PISSED OFF TALKING TO THIS IDIOT?
[TA] oh yeah, that.
[TA] alriight, what2 thii2 guy2 niick?
[*CG] SEDENTARYOVERSEER

/whoii2 2edentaryover2eer
Invalid command.

[TA] fuck
[TA] have ii mentiioned how much ii hate trolltalk?
[*CG] MAYBE IF YOU ALL STARTED TYPING NORMALLY THIS WOULDN’T BE A PROBLEM.
[TA] that2 bull2hiit.
[TA] iif thii2 old-a22 operatiing 2y2tem ii have can make 2en2e of my typiing, why the iichor-2pewiing fuck cant thii2 chat cliient from la2t goddamn 2weep?
[*CG] ALRIGHT, POINT TAKEN.
[*CG] WHEN’S THE TROLLIAN BETA COMING OUT?
[TA] next week, thank god.
[TA] you would not even BELIIEVE the feature2 thii2 thiing2 gonna have.
[*CG] I DON’T KNOW, IT LOOKS A BIT CONVOLUTED TO ME.
[*CG] TOO MANY WEIRD FEATURES, I GUESS.
[*CG] I AGREE THOUGH, TROLLTALK IS GARBAGE.
[*CG] ALRIGHT, ENOUGH IDLE CHAT.
[*CG] LET’S GET THIS SHOW ON THE ROAD.
[TA] uh KK
[TA] arent you forgettiing 2omethiing?
[*CG] HUH?
[*CG] OH, RIGHT.

/OP TWINARMAGEDDONS
twinArmageddons [TA] is now a room operator.

[+TA] alriight, let2 do thii2.
[*CG] DID I EVEN TELL YOU WHY I HATE THIS GUY?
[+TA] nope.
[*CG] WHATEVER, YOU’LL UNDERSTAND PRETTY QUICKLY.
[*CG] JUST PLAY ALONG, I GUESS.

/INVITE SEDENTARYOVERSEER
sedentaryOverseer [SO] has been invited to CRAB FACTORY.

sedentaryOverseer [SO] has joined CRAB FACTORY.
[SO] hEEllOO.
[*CG] WHY IS IT THAT NOBODY CAN TYPE NORMALLY?
[*CG] DO WE ALL JUST HAVE SOME SORT OF FUCKING BRAIN DISEASE?
[SO] II dOOn’t knOOw whAAt yOOUU mEEAAn.
[+TA] come on KK you know mo2t of our friiend2 are wor2e than that.
[SO] whOOIIs tAA
[SO] OOOOps.
[*CG] THAT’S NOT EVEN GOING TO WORK.
[*CG] USE /ROOMLIST.
[SO] IIt’s nOOt wOOrkIIng.
[SO] IIt kEEEEps sAAyIIng IInvAAlIId cOOmAAnd.
[+TA] thii2 ii2 why ii hate trolltalk.
[+TA] you have two type iit "normally".
[*CG] YEAH STOP TYPING LIKE A JACKASS.
[SO] II AAm!
[SO] "/ROOMLIST."

[+TA] ow.
[*CG] I CAN’T EVEN
[+TA] that wa2 phy2iically paiinful two me.
[SO] ?
[SO] II dOOn’t spEEnd mUUch tIIme OOn thEE cOOmpUUtEEr.
[*CG] I KIND OF FIGURED THAT OUT.
[*CG] I AM LIKE A GODDAMN DETECTIVE OF THE INTERNET OVER HERE.
[+TA] "cOOmpUUtEEr"
[+TA] alriight even II thiink that2 hard two read.
[SO] ?
[*CG] WAIT A MINUTE.
[*CG] YOU’RE ONLINE ALL THE TIME!
[*CG] I DON’T THINK YOU’VE BEEN OFFLINE SINCE I ADDED YOU.
[*CG] DON’T YOU FUCKING LIE TO ME.
[+TA] yeah, lyiing to KK ii2 u2ually a bad iidea for everyone iinvolved.
[SO] II stIIll dOOn’t knOOw EEIIthEEr OOf yOOUUr nIIcks.
[*CG] YOU STILL CAN’T...
[+TA] alriight, let2 walk through thii2.
[+TA] 2lowly.
[*CG] SOLLUX DON’T EVEN BOTHER.

/DISPLAY ROOMLIST
The following users are currently trolling in CRAB FACTORY:
carcinoGeneticist [*CG]
sedentaryOverseer [SO]
twinArmageddons [+TA]
[*CG] THERE.
[*CG] FUCK.
[*CG] WAS THAT CLEAR ENOUGH, OR DO I HAVE TO PERSONALLY MARCH OVER TO YOUR RESPITEBLOCK AND SCREAM IT INTO YOUR DEFECTIVE AURAL CAVITY?
[SO] whOO wAAs thAAt?
[+TA] huh?
[+TA] oh god you dont mean
[SO] thEE blAAck tEExt.
[*CG] ARE YOU
[*CG] YOU KNOW WHAT?
[*CG] I’M NOT EVEN SURPRISED.
[+TA] iit2 liike the mo2t obviiou2 thiing ii2 the la2t thiing you expect.
[SO] hEEy cAAn II hAAvEE OOp?
[*CG] AAAAAND THE ANGER IS BACK.
[*CG] WHEW, THOUGHT I GOT NUMB FOR A SECOND THERE.
[+TA] thii2 ii2 liike every po22iible 2tereotype of the retarded iinternet u2er at once.
[+TA] iit2 bewiilderiing.
[*CG] NOW WHY THE NUBSCRAPING FUCK WOULD I GIVE YOU OPERATOR STATUS?
[SO] sOO II cAAn UUsEE OOp cOOmAAnds.
[+TA] that i2nt
[+TA] ugh
[*CG] YOU MEAN THE COMMANDS YOU CAN’T EVEN TYPE?
[+TA] KK ii hone2tly have no iidea why you do thii2.
[+TA] how ii2 thii2 entertaiiniiing?
[*CG] HOW ISN’T IT?
[SO] ?
[*CG] ALRIGHT ALRIGHT FINE.
[*CG] I’LL STOP BEING SUCH A "QUIIVERIING CARTIILAGE NUB" FOR A WHILE.
[*CG] SO.

[+TA] 2o what?
[*CG] NO, FUCK, I MEAN
[*CG] SEDENTARYOVERSEER.
[SO] mEE?
[*CG] NO GENIUS, THE OTHER ONE.
[*CG] AND THAT WAS SARCASM, SO DON’T FUCKING ASK WHO I MEAN.
[SO] yEEAAh?
[*CG] TELL SOLLUX A BIT ABOUT YOURSELF.
[*CG] HE HASN’T HAD THE PLEASURE OF MEETING YOU YET.
[SO] UUh.
[*CG] OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE.
[SO] AAlrIIght, UUm.
[SO] mYY nAAmEE IIs OOrphIIs tAAnrIIk.
[+TA] plea2e don’t 2tart 2pewiing per2onal iinf-
[+TA] goddamniit
[*CG] HOBBIES.
[*CG] INTERESTS.
[*CG] ANYTHING.
[SO] UUm, II lIIkEE vIIdEEOOgAAmEEs.
[SO] AAnd, UUh, spOOrts II gUUEEss.
[+TA] that2
[+TA] that2 pretty generiic.
[*CG] YOU KNOW WHAT?
[*CG] IT’S A START.
[+TA] giiviing people the benefiit of the doubt?
[+TA] that2 not liike you at all, KK.
[*CG] FUCK YOU, SOLLUX.
[+TA] ah, that2 better.
[*CG] EVEN I CAN BE PLEASANTLY SURPRISED.
[SO] OOh, AAnd wrIItIIng.
[+TA] ii have a bad feeliing about thii2.
[SO] wAAnnAA hEEAAr sOOmEE OOf IIt?
[*CG] MY HEAD SAYS NO, BUT MY MORBID CURIOSITY
[*CG] WAIT NO I’M NOT RUSHING INTO THIS.
[*CG] TELL US WHAT YOU WRITE ABOUT SO WE CAN PROPERLY BRACE OURSELVES.
[SO] vIIdEEOOgAAmEEs, mOOstlYY.
[SO] yOOUU knOOw, lIIkEE thIIngs II wIIsh hAAppEEnnEEd IIn thEE gAAmEEs.
[+TA] 2o you write viideogame fanfiictiion?
[SO] II gUUEEss.
[*CG] NO.
[*CG] WE’RE NOT DOING THAT.
[+TA] your iidea, KK.
[+TA] you have two stick wiith iit.
[*CG] ARGH.
[*CG] WAIT, ARE YOU SAYING YOU WANT TO HEAR THIS SHIT?
[+TA] probably not.
[+TA] ii dunno, iit miight be good for a laugh?
[*CG] YOU’LL PROBABLY BE ABLE TO CONNECT TO THE SWEEPING NARRATIVES, WITH ALL THOSE GAMES YOU PIRATED.
[*CG] ME? I’M GOING TO BE IN THE FUCKING DARK OVER HERE.
[SO] yOOUU dOOn’t plAAYY vIIdEEOOgAAmEEs?
[*CG] NOT MUCH.
[+TA] he2 alway2 two busy trying two fiigure out what two do wiith hii2 liife.
[*CG] SOLLUX.
[*CG] BRO.
[*CG] SHUT UP BEFORE I WRAP MY HANDS AROUND YOUR OXYGEN INTAKE TUBE AND THROTTLE YOU.
[SO] EEw!
[*CG] FUCK YOU, HOW WAS THAT GROSS?
[*CG] ANYWAY, YEAH, THIS FANFIC READING SESSION IS NOT HAPPENING.
[+TA] dont be 2uch a jiitteriing marrow 2ponge.
[*CG] IS THAT A STEP UP OR DOWN FROM QUIVERING CARTILAGE NUB?
[+TA] uh, up?
[*CG] SWEET.
[*CG] ANYWAY, IF YOU’RE SO DEAD-SET ON RUINING VIDEOGAMES FOR YOURSELF, LET’S AT LEAST BRING IN A FANFIC EXPERT TO LIGHTEN THE LOAD ON ME.
[+TA] fanfiic expert?
[+TA] the hell are you babbliing about?
[+TA] and what load?
[*CG] HANDS.
[*CG] INTAKE TUBE.
[*CG] SHUT UP.

/CHUMPLIST ONLINEONLY
The following chumps are currently online:
adiosToreador [AT]
centaursTesticle [CT]
gallowsCalibrator [GC]
sedentaryOverseer [SO]
terminallyCapricious [TC]
twinArmageddons [TA]

[*CG] DAMN, NEPETA’S NOT ONLINE.
[*CG] PROBABLY OUT HUNTING BEASTS.
[*CG] OR WHATEVER THE FUCK SHE DOES.
[+TA] you could a2k equiiu2, ii gue22.
[*CG] FUCK NO, WHY WOULD YOU EVEN SUGGEST THAT?
[+TA] yeah, bad iidea.
[+TA] fuckiing blueblood2.
[SO] UUh...
[SO] whOO AArEE thEEsEE pEEOOplEE?
[SO] cAAn II rEEAAd mYY fAAnfIIc yEEt?
[*CG] NO.
[*CG] JUST WAIT A MINUTE.
[*CG] I STILL THINK THIS IS A TERRIBLE IDEA.
[+TA] of cour2e you do.
[*CG] SOLLUX, I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE.
[*CG] DON’T TEMPT ME.
[+TA] ii can move thiing2 wiith my MIIND.
[+TA] fuckiing briing iit.
[SO] rEEAAllYY?
[SO] hOOw?
[+TA] that que2tiion ii2 2o dumb ii cant even an2wer iit a2 a joke.
[*CG] ALRIGHT, LET’S JUST GET GOING SO WE CAN REGRET THIS FASTER.
[*CG] I’M BRINGING IN THE BACKUP NEPETA.
[+TA] huh?

/INVITE GALLOWSCALIBRATOR
gallowsCalibrator [GC] has been invited to CRAB FACTORY.

gallowsCalibrator [GC] has joined CRAB FACTORY.
[GC] H3Y K4RK4T! >:D
[GC] WH4T D1D YOU N33D
[+TA] [*CG] I’M BRINGING IN THE BACKUP NEPETA.
[GC] GODD4MN1T K4RK4T
[*CG] GODDAMNIT SOLLUX
[+TA] ehehehehe
[*CG] ALRIGHT, HERE’S THE DEAL.
[*CG] THERE’S THIS GUY, SEDENTARYOVERSEER.
[*CG] SAY HI OR GET A SICKLE IN YOUR RIBCAGE, YOUR CHOICE.
[SO] UUh, hII?
[GC] 4W K4RK4T
[GC] YOU 4R3 4DOR4BL3 >;]
[+TA] thii2 ii2 terezii.
[+TA] you know, 2iince weve been namedroppiing 2iince the 2tart.
[SO] hII tEErEEzIIII.
[*CG] NO NOT TEREZII YOU IDIOT, TEREZI.
[*CG] SOLLUX’S RETARD SPEECH IMPEDIMENT IS NOT THAT HARD TO UNDERSTAND.
[+TA] at lea2t ii can keep my voiice down.
[+TA] oh yeah al2o

/op gallow2caliibrator
Could not find gallow2caliibrator.
/op gallowscalibrator
gallowsCalibrator [GC] is now a room operator.

[+GC] TH4NKS SOLLUX >:D
[+GC] 4T L34ST *SOM3ON3* KNOWS HOW TO TR34T A L4DY
[*CG] PFF, LADY.
[+GC] >:P
[SO] whYY dOOEEs shEE gEEt OOp AAnd nOOt mEE?
[*CG] BECAUSE FOR WHATEVER REASON, SHE’S WON US OVER WITH HER BLIND ANTICS.
[+TA] thii2 troll dii2ea2e called friiend2hiip.
[*CG] FRIENDSHIP ISN’T A DISEASE FUCKBULGE.
[*CG] IT’S MORE LIKE
[*CG] UH
[+GC] K4RK4T SHUT UP!!!
[+GC] WHY 4M 1 H3R3
[+GC] >:?
[+TA] ii wiill never under2tand that emote.
[*CG] ALRIGHT, LONG STORY SHORT
[*CG] MR RASPBERRY THUNDER OVER HERE HAS SHITTY VIDEOGAME FANFICTION HE WANTS TO READ US.
[*CG] I FIGURED WE SHOULD GET OUR RESIDENT BAD FICTION ENTHUSIAST.
[+TA] but nepeta wa2nt onliine.
[+GC] >:I
[*CG] ACTUALLY COME TO THINK OF IT, WHY DIDN’T I BRING IN GAMZEE?
[*CG] BLEH, WHATEVER.
[SO] sOO cAAn II stAArt rEEAAdIIng IIt yEEt?
[+GC] SUR3 WHY NOT
[+GC] 1T COULD B3 GOOD FOR 4 L4UGH.
[+TA] that2 what ii 2aiid.
[*CG] WHEN ARE YOU NOT LAUGHING?
[+TA] alriight
[+TA] 2o what game ii2 thii2 a fanfiic of?
[SO] wEEll, IIt sOOrt OOf cOOmbIInEEs AA fEEw.
[*CG] A CROSSOVER FANFIC.
[*CG] NO REGRETS, RIGHT SOLLUX?
[+TA] urgh
[+TA] whiich game2 are we talkiing about?
[SO] lEEt’s sEEEE...
[SO] mAArch OOf thEE tEErrAApIIn AArmIIEEs OOn thEE fUUngUUs mOOnAArchYY
[SO] dEEstrUUctIIOOn OOf thEE rOOtUUnd mAAchIInEE AArmYY thrOOUUgh sUUpEErIIOOr mAAnEEUUvEErAAbIIlIItYY
[SO] clAAsh OOf rOObOOtIIc dEEstrOOYYEErs IIndIIvIIdUUAAllYY AAnd nOOn-lIInEEAArlYY tOO dEEfEEnd thEE AAltEErnIIAAn pOOpUUlAAcEE, UUsIIng thEEIIr OOwn AArsEEnAAl AAgAAIInst thEEm
[SO] sEEAArch fOOr thEE mYYstIIc qUUAAdrIIlAAtEErAAl frOOm thEE hEEAAvEEns bYY fOOUUr AAltEErnAAtEElYY AAlIIEEd AAnd OOppOOsIIng pAArtIIEEs
[SO] AAnd
[SO] gEEnEEtIIcAAllYY EEngIInEErEEd sUUpEErsOOldIIEEr dEEfEEnds AAltEErnIIAAn glOOrYY thrOOUUgh thEE dEEstrUUctIIOOn OOf tOOrOOIIdAAl spAAcEE wEEAApOOnrYY

[+GC] WOW
[*CG] THAT IS
[*CG] I CANNOT READ THAT.
[+TA] oh great, ANOTHER my2tiic quadriilateral fanfiic.
[+TA] march of the terrapiin armiie2 doe2nt even HAVE a 2tory!
[+TA] and why diid you throw iin genetiically engiineered 2uper2oldiier?
[*CG] WOW, YOU HAVEN’T EVEN STARTED READING AND SOLLUX IS ALREADY PISSED.
[*CG] THIS IS GOING TO BE FUN!
[+GC] DO 1 R34LLY N33D TO DO TH1S?
[*CG] YES.
[*CG] YOU ARE OUR LITERARY ANALYST.
[+GC] UUUUGH >:[
[*CG] YOU KNOW, AFTER SWIMMING THROUGH THAT OCEAN OF EXTRA VOWELS, I THINK I KNOW SOME OF THOSE GAMES.
[SO] mOOst OOf thEEm AArEE clAAssIIcs.
[*CG] SOLLUX IS RIGHT ABOUT TERRAPIN ARMIES, I KNOW THAT MUCH.
[*CG] IT SEEMS THERE’S ONLY ONE WAY THIS COULD GET WORSE.
[+TA] ju2t
[+TA] tell u2 the tiitle.
[SO] crAAsh OOf thEE UUltIImAAtEEs: AA rOOmAAntIIc cOOmEEdYY

[*CG] HEY, I WAS RIGHT!
[*CG] AND YET I FEEL NO JOY.
[+TA] oh god ii regret everythiing
[+GC] H3H3H3H3H3
[+GC] OH TH1S 1S GO1NG TO B3 4M4Z1NG
[SO] dIIsclAAIImEEr: yOOUU mUUst bEE 9 sOOlAAr swEEEEps OOld tOO rEEAAd this stOOrYY.
[+TA] there2 nobody over eiight 2weep2 on the whole fuckiing planet!
[+TA] you 2et the bar hiigher than your own age!?
[+TA] what the fuck!?
[+GC] H3Y K4RK4T WHY DO YOU T4ST3 L1K3 MUST4RD 4LL OF 4 SUDD3N >:?
[*CG] I KNOW, RIGHT?
[*CG] I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO COULD GET YOU THIS ANGRY.
[*CG] HAS SOLLUX CAPTOR FOUND HIMSELF A POTENTIAL KISMESIS?
[SO] EEEEEEEEw nOO
[+GC] 1S SOLLUX NOT GOOD 3NOUGH FOR YOU
[+TA] hey KK, are you hiintiing that you have blackrom feeliing2 for me?
[*CG] WHAT
[*CG] NO I
[*CG] AAAAUUUGH
[+GC] H3H3H3H3H3H3
[+TA] 2eriiou2ly though, thii2 ii2 atrociiou2.
[+TA] and iit ha2nt even 2tarted yet.
[SO] AArEE yOOUU sAAYYIIng yOOUU dOOn’t wAAnt tOO hEEAAr IIt?
[+GC] NOT 4T 4LL!!!
[*CG] THAT
[*CG] THAT MIGHT BE THE HARDEST QUESTION I’VE EVER BEEN ASKED.
[+TA] no regret2 KK.
[*CG] ALRIGHT.
[*CG] THIS MIGHT BE THE STUPIDEST THING I’VE EVER SAID BUT
[+GC] DOUBT 1T
[*CG] START READING.
[+TA] here we go.
[+GC] WH33
[SO] AAlrIIght.
[SO] mAArkOOII lOOOOkEEd OOUUt thEE wIIndOOw OOf thEE chIIEEf sOOldIIEErAAdIIcAAtOOr’s spAAcEEshIIp. lUUIIjIIk AAnd lIInnUUk wEErEE AAlso thEErEE. AAs wEEll AAs swIIft thEE blUUe spIInEEbEEAAst AAnd mUUrdEErbOOt dln001 whOO wAAs mAAdEE bYY dOOctOOr lYYdEErr whOO wAAs AAlsOO thEErEE.
[SO] AAnd thEEn thEE chIIEEf sOOldIIEErAAdIIcAAtOOr wAAlkEEd IIn AAnd lUUIIjIIk wAAs wOOrrIIEEd bEEcAAUUsEE whOO wAAs flYYIIng thEE spAAcEEshIIp. bUUt thEEn thEE chIIEEf sAAIId thAAt IIt wAAs OOkAAYY bEEcAAUUsEE hEE tUUrnEEd OOn thEE AAUUtOOpIIlOOt AAnd lIInnUUk dIIdn’t knOOw whAAt thAAt wAAs bEEcAAUUse hIIs gAAmEEs dOOn’t hAAvEE tEEchnOOlOOgYY.
[+TA] oh god 2omeone kiill me
[*CG] I THINK THERE’S MORE.
[+TA] ii dont care ju2t end iit now
[SO] (AAlsOO IIn thIIs stOOrYY lIInnUUk cAAn tAAlk bEEcAAUUsEE IIt’s EEAAsIIEEr tOO wrIItEE thAAt wAAYY AAnd AAlsOO whYY cAAn’t hEE IIn hIIs gAAmEEs?)
[+GC] >:O
[+GC] TH1S 1S PR3TTY B4D
[SO] sOO rOOtOOr thEE mUUtAAtEEd lUUngEEdOOg (whOO IIs AAlsOO OOn thEE ship) lOOOOks AAt swIIft AAnd hEE sOOrt OOf blUUshEEs bEEcAAUUsEE hEE’s mOOIIrAAls wIIth hIIm bUUt mAArkOOII sEEEEs IIt AAnd thEEYY AAll lAAUUgh (bUUt nOOt mEEAAn bEEcAAUUsEE thEEYY’rEE AAll frIIEEnds).
[*CG] WAIT A FUCKING MINUTE.
[*CG] "MOIRALS"
[*CG] THE FUCK IS A MOIRAL?
[SO] UUh, sOOmEEOOnEE whOO’s lIIkEE AA frIIEEnd bUUt AAlsOO yOOUU rEEAAllYY lIIkEE thEEM?
[*CG] IT’S MOIRAIL YOU POROUS SACK OF PUTRID GANGRENOUS WASTE!
[*CG] AND THAT’S NOT EVEN CLOSE!
[+GC] OH G33 K4RK4TS G3TT1NG M4D 4BOUT ROMCOMS STOP TH3 PR3SS3S.
[+TA] KK dont 2tart goiing iinto thii2 2hiit
[*CG] WHEN YOU’RE SOMEONE’S MOIRAIL, IT MEANS THAT YOU LOOK OUT FOR THEM AND STOP THEM FROM DOING STUP-
[*CG] ARGH FUCK FINE.
[SO] shOOUUld II kEEEEp gOOIIng?
[+TA] no no no god no
[+GC] SUR3 TH1S 1S FUN!! >:D
[*CG] EVERY FIBRE OF MY BEING IS SCREAMING NO
[*CG] BUT
[*CG] GO AHEAD.
[+TA] fuck you karkat
[+GC] >:O
[*CG] WOW YOU MUST BE SHAKING WITH RAGE IF YOU’RE USING MY FULL NAME LIKE THAT.
[+TA] sorry KK
[*CG] HAHA WHY ARE YOU APOLOGIZING?
[SO] bUUt thEEn OOn thEE vIIEEwscrEEn thEErEE’s thEE spAAcEEshIIp thAAt thEE EEvIIl dr OOvUUsEEt mAAdEE OOUUt OOf thEE pUUrplEE mOOOOn. EExcEEpt IIt’s bEEn cUUstOOmIIzEEd bYY dr wIIllIIn AAnd AAlsOO fUUsEEd wIIth thEE tOOrUUs.
[+TA] ii cant even
[+TA] the 2iize diifference2 are
[+TA] alriight now iim actually 2hakiing
[*CG] TEREZI, YOU’RE A WITNESS.
[+GC] >:?
[+TA] fuck you 2hut up
[*CG] I DIDN’T MEAN YOU, SHIVERLUMP.
[*CG] REMEMBER THIS NAME, TEREZI.
[*CG] ORPHIS TANRIK
[*CG] I HAVE A FEELING HE’S GOING TO BE ONE OF THE GREAT NAMES OF OUR GENERATION.
[+GC] 1S TH4T TH1S GUY
[*CG] YEAH.
[+GC] 1LL H4V3 H1S HONOUR4BL3 TYRR4NY S4V3 4 TR14L FOR H1M >:]
[+TA] heh
[SO] ?
[SO] hOOld OOn, II’m AAlmOOst dOOnEE thEE nEExt pAArt.
[*CG] WAIT JUST ONE GODDAMN SECOND.
[*CG] YOU’RE MAKING THIS UP ON THE SPOT?
[SO] yEEAAh.
[+TA] iit2 not that 2urprii2iing, really.
[+GC] Y34H
[*CG] I AGREE, BUT THAT’S NOT THE POINT.
[*CG] YOU LIED TO US ABOUT BEING A WRITER.
[*CG] YOU DON’T EVEN HAVE ANYTHING ACTUALLY WRITTEN DOWN!?
[SO] wEEll, II *wAAnt* tOO bEE AA wrIItEEr.
[*CG] YOU’RE JUST PULLING SHIT OUT OF YOUR DEFECATION SPHINCTER AND CALLING YOURSELF A WRITER.
[*CG] GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY CHATROOM.

/BAN SEDENTARYOVERSEER
sedentaryOverseer [SO] was banned from CRAB FACTORY.

[+TA] thank god that2 over wiith.
[*CG] ALRIGHT, I ADMIT
[*CG] THIS DID NOT GO AS WELL AS I HAD HOPED.
[+GC] H4H4
[+GC] 1 DONT KNOW WH4T YOU GUYS 4R3 T4LK1NG 4BOUT
[+GC] TH4T W4S FUN!!! >:D
[*CG] YOU WEREN’T EVEN READING THE STORY, WERE YOU?
[*CG] YOU WERE JUST LOST IN A SEA OF DELICIOUS RASPBERRY GOODNESS.
[+GC] NOT 3NT1R3LY!! >:I
[+TA] well then
[+TA] what now KK?
[*CG] I HAVE NO IDEA.
[*CG] I MEAN AT THIS POINT, TEREZI COULD BUST OUT HER RP CHATLOGS WITH NEPETA AND IT WOULD BE FUCKING LIGHTYEARS AHEAD OF WHERE WE JUST WERE.
[+GC] [*AC] :33 < *ac pounces out of the bushes and catches a small squ33krodent in one of her powerful jaws*
[+GC] [+GC] *GC SWOOPS DOWN FROM 4BOV3 4ND P3RCH3S H3R LUSTROUS SC4LY S3LF ON A NEARBY ROCK*
[*CG] GODDAMNIT TEREZI I WASN’T SUGGESTING YOU ACTUALLY DO THAT.
[+TA] you have two admiit that thii2 ii2 at lea2t bearable.
[+GC] [+AT] *aT FLIES DOWN FROM, THE OTHER WAY FROM WHERE GC CAME FROM,*
[+GC] [+AT] *hE HAS A MAGICAL SWORD AND, A MAGICAL VEST, THAT LETS HIM FLY,*
[+GC] [+AT] uNLESS THAT’S TOO OVERPOWERED, i GUESS,
[*CG] AHAHAHAHA
[*CG] WELL I SURE AS FUCK DO NOW.
[+TA] what wa2 tavro2 even doing there?
[+TA] doe2 he normally rp wiith you two?
[+GC] NO BUT H3 D3C1D3D TO TRY 1T
[+GC] H3 HON3STLY W4SNT TH4T B4D
[+GC] I M34N W3 K1ND OF K3PT 1T L1GHT BUT ST1LL
[*CG] I ALWAYS FEEL LIKE I SHOULD HATE TAVROS.
[*CG] I MEAN, EVERYTHING ABOUT HIM SEEMS ENGINEERED TO MAKE ME HATE HIM.
[*CG] AND YET I DON’T.
[+GC] TROLL 3MOT1ONS SUR3 4R3 W31RD!!! >:P
[+TA] 2o howd that rp turn out?
[+GC] W3LL M3 N3P3T4 4ND T4VROS 4LL ST4RT3D 1N 4N 3NCH4NT3D FOR3ST
[*CG] AS SURE AS I AM THAT THIS WILL BE BETTER THAN TANRIK’S BULLSHIT, I’M TOO WORN OUT FOR THIS.
[*CG] PLUS IT’S STARTING TO GET LIGHT OUT.
[*CG] I SHOULD GET INTO MY RECUPERACOON.
[+TA] aw, too bad KK.
[+GC] TH3 T3R3Z1 PYROP3 R34D1NG RUMPUS ROOM W4S JUST OP3N1NG!! >:[
[*CG] ALRIGHT, IF YOU TWO WANT TO BE ROLEPLAYING ASSHOLES ALL THROUGH THE DAYLIGHT, BE MY GUESTS.

/ADMIN TWINARMAGEDDONS
Are you sure you want to make twinArmageddons the room administrator? You will lose admin privileges.
Y
twinArmageddons [+TA] is now the room administrator.

[+GC] NOT M3??? >:O
[+GC] BUT 1TS MY STORYT1M3
[*TA] thank2 KK.
[+CG] NO PROBLEM BRO.

/ROOMNAME TH3 T3R3Z1 PYROP3 R34D1NG RUMPUS ROOM
The room name has been changed to TH3 T3R3Z1 PYROP3 R34D1NG RUMPUS ROOM.

[+GC] TH4TS B3TT3R
[+CG] ALRIGHT, I’M OUT.
[+GC] BYE K4RK4T!!!! >:D
[*TA] 2ee you later bro.
[+GC] SO TH3 THR33 OF US W3R3 1N TH1S 3NCH4NT3D FOR3ST

/LEAVEROOM
You have left TH3 T3R3Z1 PYROP3 R34D1NG RUMPUS ROOM.
/LOGOUT
You are now logging out of TrollTalk.
Goodbye!

Incidentally, I just spent like two hours manually adding colour tags. The things I do for you people...

[KarneWarrior]

That was so worth it though. Funny as all hell.

[Assassin of Deadpan]

HEY SKAIANREDEEMER. I LIKE THE CUT OF YOUR JIB. JUST THOUGHT I SHOULD SAY THAT.

[arianadream]

Okay, here is my first MSPA fanfic! I hope it went well. *Crosses fingers* It's finished - well, sort of. It doesn't quite feel finished but I don't have anything more to add. Maybe I will after Homestuck updates again? Anyway, it was a nice project over the long weekend with no updates.

Sound and Fury

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Hey. You there.

Good, safely in the Medium. Time for a second prototyping.

Can’t see ya. You there, kid?

Merging with the kernselsprite feels odd, but no more so than being a ghost, perhaps. It seems to welcome the deceased.

“Ribbit.” Oops. An unforeseen side effect. No matter.

Oh, now I see you. Check this place out, I wanna know where you ended up.

No time to explore just yet. Nepeta is asking questions. Can’t leave her hanging.

Good, got her promise. Not that it matters a great deal at the moment, but it would be a rather large complication if word started to get around. Wonder how Sollux would react if he found out?

Wonder if he even remembers what happened. Just idle curiosity, it doesn’t bother you either way. A lot of things don’t bother you. Sometimes you feel like they should. Still, you’d kind of like him to be happy. If he knew what he’d done, he probably wouldn’t be too happy about that. You think. You’re not really sure.

Being a sprite solves a number of problems, but not all of them. You’ll need Equius for that – he has the “present” that he and Vriska were planning for you. Vriska seemed to think it was a surprise, but of course it was part of your plan. It will be difficult to move forward without it. Fortunately, Equius is already on the way. It shouldn’t take him long.

You don’t take direction well, do ya?

Of course you do. That’s what you’ve been doing all along. But one new voice won’t drown out the whispers of the dead. They have a plan, and you’re going to follow it. Once you’ve sorted that out, maybe you’ll have time for the new voice.

You’ve got an attitude. Can’t tell if I like that or not. I’ll get back to you in a bit, when you aren’t so inclined to sass me.

Time to sit back and wait…and plan.

***

She might have let the rage and frustration propel her headlong into an angry tirade at the one responsible. That’s how Vriska usually operates, anyway. This time, though, she finds herself frozen in front of what used to be her lusus, now buried under rubble. Vriska stares at her hands, covered in her custodian’s cobalt blood. It’s everywhere – in her hair, drenching her clothes, spattering her glasses.

It takes some time before Vriska is able to shake herself out of her stupor. She marches rapidly upstairs, muttering to herself while rubbing her arms uneasily. Something has gone very, very wrong, and surely there is someone to blame. As usual, she decides to lash out at the first likely person.

***

Equius naturally attempted to pull off a reversal of leadership roles. This doesn’t surprise you. He seemed rather confused about what role he wanted, however, and this was somewhat surprising. Everything he says is weird. Still, it seems the matter was resolved, and you got to break something, too.

Shortly before you heard from Equius, Vriska contacted you. This was to be expected. Her impotent fury at being told she would not join the Blue Team was unfortunate, but also inconsequential. It isn’t unusual for Vriska to be enraged about something, in any case. She will see the reasons in due time. You don’t really understand why she was so adamant that you were once friends, though. Maybe you both have very different definitions of what a friend is. Perhaps you were hatefriends. It’s hard to say. You don’t really remember what it was like to hate.

I woulda torn her a new one, if I was you. Don’t see why you just don’t care. Someone’s gotta put that dame in her place.

Perhaps. It doesn’t really matter to you anymore, though. It did once.

Time passes – not much of it, though. It isn’t terribly long before Equius falls from the sky, wasting no time in producing the soulbot from his sylladex. It’s lovely, you suppose. He certainly seems to think it is. It’s quite definitely adequate for your purpose, and that’s what matters. You waste no time in merging with it.

It isn’t quite like it was with the kernelsprite. At first, you are hard pressed to say just how. Does it feel like it did to be alive? It certainly isn’t like being a ghost. Equius is very good at his craft. Each joint and digit moves and senses like your own body once did, before it was disintegrated in a psychic blast. You flex your fingers, enjoying the curious feeling of movement and remembering what sensation was like.

Equius is speaking. You don’t pay attention at first, but he is asking you a question. While concentrating on physical sensation, you slowly become aware of a different sort of feeling. He is saying something about – oh. Oh, no. Oh, hell no.

That ain’t right. You don’t treat a dame that way.

You certainly do not, and Equius should know it. Blue blood or no, you will teach him his place when it comes to meddling with a girl’s heart. An unfamiliar emotion bubbles up inside you – rage? You think you felt rage once or twice before – and you quickly remove the offending organ, smashing into a pulp of royal blue and thus deactivating the superfluous chip.

What an idiot! What a waste of time! What a horribly misguided way of attempting to woo you!

You’d forgotten what a confusing and sometimes nonsensical mess emotions could be. Fury becomes passion, and you surprise yourself with your reaction. Afterwards, he seems almost…afraid, yet pleased. He seems to accept your show of force and domination, almost to revel in it, before recovering and gruffly suggesting that you get the plan underway. You agree. Best to stop wasting time and move forward.

Strangely, his anger seems to have abated. But he really is awfully sweaty. Too bad you don’t have any fresh towels. You suggest that he see if he can find the captchalogue code and alchemize a few. He’ll probably need them.

To be continued!

[nextian]

MORE SWEENEY TROLL. Probably 3/5.

Parts one and two.

show spoiler

hide spoiler

It's the girl who ruins everything. She knows the judge somehow, and he knows she's a greenblood. He bolts out of his seat and takes a hold of her, his fingers raising deep bruises under her collar and a thumbprint on her chin, and that tears it. "I am not patronizing an institution where the social order is thus disrupted," he thunders, banging down the stairs. "You will have none of my custom. Good day to you, sir!"

She's struggling to breathe through her bruised throat when Karkat puts down his razor, methodically, and begins shattering every shatterable in the room. He starts with his ivory washbasin, which cost her fifty shillings or more thirty years ago, and he moves onto to his cups and his few plates, the girl scampering down the stairs in fright, and he's got his hand raised to the mirror before he looks at the pottery in his hand and stops, baffled, to pick it out. The whole room's coated in a thin, hazy smell of red, and the taste of her own blood and Vriska's in her mouth keeps her from scenting him come up behind her until he's put both hands on her shoulders. "This is your fucking fault," he says, and then, when she doesn't move, "Hoy. Mrs. Pyrope. Look at me."

She tilts her head back to him, her monocles resettling cold against her skin, and he says, "This is still your fault," but it's not to the point anymore. He hefts her upright and moves her down the stairs, into her kitchen, where he runs cold water over a cloth and pushes it up against her throat.

"Didn't your lusus teach you not to fuck with blue-bloods?" he asks her, his voice low and sardonic. "It's the first thing he told me."

"Then we're both terrible students, Mr. Vantas," she says, and leans her head against his shoulder, breathing it in. "What are we going to do about Vriska Serket?"

"Vriska--" He squints down at her. "Your corpse."

"My corpse," she says, and it's thinking of it that way, or the sweet scent of his blood in her nose, or the half-feral girl that's nowhere to be found that gives her the plan. Why should Vriska go to waste? Why should anyone? She thinks of Vriska's long-dead spider and laughs. It's what she'd call poetic justice, if she'd ever had a taste for poetry.

He loves it. He actually smiles. "They think we gutterbloods drink noble blood and eat noble flesh anyway," he tells her. "I'm sure they must be fine cuisine," and he lets her dance him around the kitchen without putting up too much of a fight. She says, "Tell me again I'm the worst auspisitice ever, Mr. K."

"You're the worst," he tells her. "But then I don't have any better."

The girl's still waiting outside on the stoop, hunched in on herself. She expects to be sent away. Vriska never gave her anything but a boot to the small of the back, and that's a crime when Nepeta's such a sweet girl, and so bloodthirsty. She likes the plan, too. She calls it hunting.

Terezi's very careful. She picks the finest and the cruelest, no one lower than green, no one less guilty than sin, and she leads them up to Karkat's chair, where he runs the razor blade across their throats and complains about the mess. He even hacks them up for her, when she demonstrates what happens when she tries. She particularly likes adulterers, who go up to look clean for an assignation and come back down neatly shaven and in four easy pieces. Nepeta loads the grinder, though she doesn't think much of the cooking. Terezi makes the pies.

Only the beggarman on the street has any quarrel with her now, the beggarman and Zahhak, who finds their little organization distasteful. It doesn't matter. Zahhak goes to Brother Makara for counsel, and the beggar goes to Brother Makara for food, and as long as she keeps Brother Makara steadily supplied with draughts of ale, he won't give them any trouble. He preaches love. Zahhak takes it as a sign and turns his attention to his ward. The beggar takes it to heart, and sits on the stoop of the opposite shop, arguing furiously with himself about the correct way forward.

And they sell and sell and sell and sell.

The rumors stop being rumors. The drone's in town, wandering from house to house, looking for pails to fill. She spends her stolen time doing her best coquette at Karkat, but if he isn't impervious, though she flutters for hours. He's a good moirail for a girl like her, steady work, good hand with a sharp edge, sharper tongue. It'll do for now. It'll do until it doesn't, till he says Aradia's or Sollux's name one too many times and she takes that razor of his in hand. Well, it'd fill one of the pails, anyway.

"Mr. Vantas," she says to him, "I want us to look into a colony ship."

"Mrs. Pyrope, you can go fuck yourself," he says. It isn't actually a no.

[Red Pen]

Sweeny Troll is pretty much the greatest crossover ever, I hope you know that, nextian.

Anyhow, this chapter has replaced chapter six as my favorite chapter! It was incredibly fun to write. Just like, really, ridiculously fun to write. Somewhere in here I quoted one of my favorite formspring Jacks, who sadly doesn't seem to be around anymore, but his characterization was amazing.

Previously, on Unhinged...
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

Unhinged - part 10

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There had been no plan, beyond wanting desperately to get Dave out of the palace and away from the Dignitary as quickly as possible. Rose had done the first thing that came to mind, and now she prayed that Draconian would see it as a falling out between herself and Dave. The Seer and the Knight got into an argument; he's not coming back, he's not helping her, he's not involved anymore. There's no need to go after him.

And yet she knew they would. Jack, if no one else, would want to make him suffer.

There was a knot in her throat as she flipped the little metal latch just above the ornate handle of her door and heard the deadbolt slide into place: a tiny "click" under the constant rap of Draconian's knuckles against the wood. Rose took some satisfaction in discovering that her prison door could be locked just as effectively from her side as from his.

It was difficult, at this point, not to be a little tense. Her capture, which had no doubt lasted only a handful of hours by earth time, seemed to be amounting to days here on Derse, a planet which twisted time around itself in temporal fractals that rivaled its distortion of physics. It was a small blessing that her dreamself didn't seem to require food or rest.

"Leave me alone," she muttered, leaning her back against the door and hearing her own voice catch tightly in her throat. "I'm doing what you want. Just leave me alone for a while." She wished she hadn't tried to fake a meltdown, because even as the false tears dried on her cheeks, real ones threatened to well up hotly behind them. She forced them back. Rose Lalonde couldn't afford to be sad and scared at the moment. "Leave me alone."

To the Seer's mild surprise, he did. Without so much as a word from Draconian the knocking on her door subsided, and then he was gone, no doubt off to round up some minions to deal with Dave. After a few minutes of dead silence from the hallway beyond, Rose allowed herself to slide slowly down the door and sit tiredly on the floor, her legs splayed out in front of her. She took a few deep breaths and relaxed, trying to recapture that sense of cool, unflappable serenity.

A voice, not Draconian's but nevertheless one she recognized, sounded from the other side of the violet wood. "Miss tentacleTherapist?"

Rose sighed. "Your name was Droll, right?"

"Courtyard Droll. I just wanted to tell you, um, thanks for being so nice and helping us out!"

"My pleasure. I live for ensuring that my mortal enemies are healthy and well-balanced individuals."

"We're not enemies now, though," Droll said helpfully. "Because you're sort of like one of the crew!"

"Does Jack normally keep members of his crew locked away in tiny rooms?" Rose asked with the faintest hint of flat cynicism.

"Well, no... But that's just because he doesn't really trust you yet! And you shouldn't feel bad, because Jack doesn't trust anybody. Not even me or Draconian or Hegemonic, sometimes, and I think he's especially mad at Draconian right now because he brought you here, but that's okay because you're going to fix everything, right?"

Rose was silent for a while.

"Right?" Droll prompted.

"Hm? Oh yes, sorry, right. You say there are some... trust issues between the Slayer and the Dignitary?"

"Uh-huh, but you can make them be friends again."

The Seer's lips twitched into a small smile. "I'll see what I can do. I'm sure it would be absolutely devastating to Jack; learning that he couldn't trust his closest friend. You've been very helpful, Droll."

"Sure, miss Therapist."

"Feel free to call me Rose. After all, I'm sort of like one of the crew."

"Rose," he repeated, happily savoring the familiarity, and the girl couldn't help but be glad of the fact that not everyone out there was an enemy.

"Droll," she continued, deciding to see just how far she could press her luck. "My friend Dave mentioned some sort of... screen? Something used for surveillance? I was wondering if you could tell me anything about that."

"That's the Fenestrated Wall," the little Dersite replied helpfully. "It used to be Jack's job to monitor them, but now Draconian does it. It's really neat; he can see pretty much anywhere on Derse with it!"

"But can he hear with it? Say for instance, if I were talking to someone in private, would he be able to use the Wall to listen in?"

"Nope, just see."

"Interesting." Rose stood at last and began running her fingers through her hair, trying to cover up the uneven spot and make herself look halfway presentable. "I don't suppose you could do me a favor? Can you find Draconian and tell him I'm over my little outburst? I'd like to have another talk with Jack."

"Sure thing miss... I mean, sure thing, Rose!" Droll agreed, and a moment later she could hear the faint sound of his feet receding down the hallway outside. Rose continued to adjust her hair, more because it kept her hands from fidgeting than because she really cared how it looked.

It was time to talk to Jack again, and that as always sent a rush of nervous excitement through her. It would be easier this time, because she'd already laid foundations and won a few small but crucial battles. And now, thanks to the Droll, she had yet another weapon. This would be fun.

- - - - - - - - - -

Rose had expected Jack to visit her in her little reading room like he had before, but instead Draconian arrived to serve as her escort. He led her stiffly and silently through a maze of dim purple corridors, walkways, and staircases, his chitinous hand clasped firmly around her right wrist to keep her from flying away.

"He's still furious at you," the Dignitary explained briefly, after Rose had given him one too many searching glances. "Or furious at himself for opening up to you. There's no way I'll be able to talk him into entering that room again."

Rose nodded. "I can work around that."

In response he gave her wrist a small squeeze. "Listen to me, girl. I don't like you and I don't trust you, and it's becoming increasingly apparent that Droll and I never should have brought you here, because you don't seem to be making any difference whatsoever."

"These things take time," she assured him. "Although..." And at this she tried keeping her face as smooth and innocent as possible. "I think the reason I haven't had much of an impact is because part of the problem may not be mental."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Draconian give her a quick, sharp glance. "You're saying he's... sick?"

"Well, he certainly isn't healthy."

The Dignitary shook his head. "It's stress and lack of sleep."

"Oh, I'm sure that's part of it," Rose stated authoritatively. "But I suspect that most of the blame lies with that ring he's wearing." Draconian didn't respond, and so she went on. "It was made for a queen, wasn't it? Someone genetically engineered and trained from birth to wear it. It contains untold amounts of power and drastically alters the genetic makeup of the wearer's body. I'd imagine it's a bit like wearing a nuclear power plant on one's finger."

"The ring's not hurting Jack."

"Have you ever looked at it?" she insisted. "And I mean really stared at it closely. You can tell what it's doing to him. I'm surprised you've never noticed."

"There's nothing to notice," he said, but Rose noted smugly that the Dignitary no longer sounded entirely sure.

At long last the two of them arrived in a vast, cavernous room. The vaulted archways of the ceiling disappeared into darkness far overhead, and despite the fact that she now walked across red carpet, Rose's footsteps seemed to echo eerily in the emptiness. She could see, in the distant center of the great hall, a throne of gray stone carved to mimic the massive kerneltowers of the palace. And lounging on the throne, where once there sat the queen of Derse, was Jack Noir.

Some of the majesty of the scene was lost when Rose noticed the pawns hastily shuffling through piles of paperwork strewn across a series of card-tables that had been set up in the immediate vicinity of the throne. The Sovereign Slayer was bickering with them and seizing documents at random out of their hands, and as she and the Dignitary approached he at last lost his temper and slapped one of them hard across the face with a tentacle. The unlucky pawn went reeling backwards and knocked over a table, spilling carefully sorted piles of documents across the floor, and Jack shouted something incoherent and drew his sword.

"Jack," said Draconian calmly, approaching the throne with Rose in tow. As soon as Jack turned his head, the pawns scattered.

"What," the Slayer snapped, seething, "could you possibly want from me right now, Draconian?"

The Dignitary picked up a piece of paper idly and glanced at the back of it before tossing it aside. "Get yourself an Archagent, Jack. You don't need to be dealing with day-to-day paperwork."

"No one else does it right," Jack countered. "Everyone in this palace is an idiot and they make stupid mistakes and then I have to deal with it."

"No Jack, you don't."

"Shut the hell up. I'm running this kingdom, and I'll take my own damn advice." He turned his murderous gaze from Draconian to Rose, who watched him complacently and took note of the dark circles under his eyes. "Why is she here?"

"She has something to tell you. Says it's important."

"Fine. Tell me and get out."

Rose took a deep breath and began the speech she'd rehearsed a hundred times in her head. "When I spoke to Dave earlier today..." Not a flicker of surprise from Jack, so obviously he'd heard about that by now. "It put a lot of things in perspective for me. How stupid we've all been, trying to win a broken game. How we're protecting Skaia, even though none of us really know what's so important about it or why we should care if it's destroyed. We've been doing things because the game tells us we should, without thinking about whether or not it makes sense."

Jack and Draconian listened without interrupting.

"So... it comes down to this. I've started thinking for myself, and I've decided that I want to be on the winning side. I'm siding with Derse. Officially."

There was a moment of tense silence, and then Jack sat back in his throne and let out a humorless, "Heh. You think you're funny, Lalonde."

"I'm being serious," Rose said resentfully. "I want to be a part of your plans. I want to help, and I don't care about whether or not it hurts the game or my friends. I'm smart, and I'm creative, and I know how to be cruel. Surely you can use me for something."

"Oh sure, I could use you," Jack muttered. "But I don't trust you. You're a hostage, Lalonde, or did you forget that?"

"And there's nothing I can do that will make you trust me?"

"What do you think?"

Rose frowned for a moment, trying to look as if she was in the midst of some internal battle. "I... What if I gave you information? Something I've been hiding that would hurt my cause and help yours? Something you need to know?"

That got his attention. The Slayer leaned forward again, his eyes meeting hers. "Go on."

"I can't exactly tell you here and now," she said quickly, glancing up at Draconian. "It has to be in private. Without him here."

Jack nodded, and the Dignitary released her wrist. She wouldn't dare try to fly away in Jack's throne room. Draconian thought she was merely fishing for privacy so that she could have another therapy session with Jack, and in some ways she was. But there was another reason. Rose waited until the Dignitary's footsteps had faded before she spoke again, once she was sure the tall Dersite was out of earshot.

"Draconian and I have been plotting to kill you."

She let that sink in for a moment, watching with sadistic pleasure the plethora of emotions that flickered across the Sovereign Slayer's face in a matter of seconds. "What."

"I'm laying all my cards on the table, as it were. Telling you this so you'll know without a shadow of a doubt that I'm trustworthy and that I'm siding with you. The Dignitary brought me here for the sole purpose of driving you insane. He wanted me to use my 'therapy' as an excuse to make you paranoid and unstable and weak, so that he would have an easier time of taking you down."

"You're lying," he hissed, but Rose knew for a fact that she'd already wormed her way too far into his mind and gained too much of his trust for him to dismiss her now.

"He wants to be king, Jack. He wants your ring."

"You're lying," he repeated. "Draconian wouldn't-"

"Wouldn't he? Watch him next time the two of you are in the same room; I know I have. He's always looking at your ring! Why would I lie about this?" She was working herself into another false meltdown, and she let the tears flow freely down her face even as she spoke. "I wish I was lying! I wish I wasn't a part of this, but I am, and I'm terrified! I'm terrified that you'll kill me now that you know, and that the Dignitary will kill me when he finds out I've told you! I don't want to die!"

Rose buried her head in her hands and sat down right there on the carpet in front of the throne, letting all of her pent-up despair rise to the surface and feeling very real tears streak hotly down her face. "I'm only thirteen, I'm not a real therapist! I don't know how to drive someone insane and I don't want to, and I'm sick of lying and I'm really really scared and I just want to live on a planet that isn't going to be destroyed by meteors! And... and if you're going to kill me just make it quick, because it's bound to be better than all the horrible ways Draconian threatened to do it!"

She dissolved into incoherent sobs, curled up pathetically on the floor and waiting to see what he would do. After an almost unbearably long silence, something gently pressed itself to the back of her head.

Rose pulled her tear-streaked hands away from her eyes and looked up, and Jack was kneeling down in front of her, his hand stroking her hair in what he seemed to think was a consoling motion. "Hey now, Lalonde. Calm down. You're not gonna die."

He looked calm enough, but his teeth were gritted, and she could tell that he was barely keeping himself together for her sake.

"He'll kill me," she whispered.

"I told you I'd keep you alive as long as you didn't do anything stupid, didn't I? And what you just did... that was smart."

"Don't tell him. Please don't tell him I told you. Please."

"Of course not."

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for everything."

"Sssh." He tilted her chin upward so she could look him in the eyes. "You may be no good as a therapist, but you're honest and you're loyal. That's what I like. Tell me, how would you like to be an Archagent?"

Rose nodded dully; there seemed to be no other adequate response. But behind her carefully crafted mask of numb fear, she was gleefully gloating.

She payed careful attention as Jack's eyes flitted away from her, grew distant. You won't tell Draconian, will you, Jack? No, you'll keep it a secret and see what he does, because you're not sure, because some tiny part of you knows you've been friends with the Dignitary your entire life, and that part of you knows that I'm lying. So you'll wait and see if I'm right.

He was worried and angry and filled to the brim with panic and betrayal and paranoia, and it would only take one tiny thing to push him over the edge. But Rose had already taken care of that.

When the Draconian Dignitary returned to collect her, he looked immediately to Jack's ring, because she'd told him to. And though he made no comment, Jack noticed, because she'd told him to.

And the Sovereign Slayer was completely and irrevocably hers.

Chapter eleven over here!

[Sushi Database]

Oh, Red Pen. Unhinged is just the tops. Still my favorite. I just hope that when Rose is done destroying the Midnight Crew, CD will be okay.

Also really liked your thing Raikonos! Fun read!

[Tenebrais]

Rose is playing them all like so many violins. I love it.

[KarneWarrior]

It's official now. Rose is more badass then the midnight crew combined.

Also, I keep wondering how Terezi would have handled this. Much the same way, I imagine.

[Raikonos]

You know, I didn't actually intend this but...

That was my 13th post
The first reponse to it was KarneWarrior's 113th post.

sedentaryOverseer is the secret 13th troll!

[Shadow of the Lotus]

Always love unhinged. I think that may be my favorite part actually; I just love how everything played out and I really wish I could write as well as you do Red Pen. Seriously; your writing blends in with the action so well that you forget you're reading. Good prose is like a window after all. Part 6 may still reign as my favorite though.

[KarneWarrior]

You know, I didn't actually intend this but...

That was my 13th post
The first reponse to it was KarneWarrior's 113th post.

sedentaryOverseer is the secret 13th troll!

113? Damn, I'm still in my first week here!

[Raikonos]

113? Damn, I'm still in my first week here!

120 posts.

I swear to god you were at 115 when I said that.
Slow down, you're scaring me.

[Shad]

I love Unhinged so much.
So much.

It's great that I went to check, just to see if it updated, and then it was posted just a few hours before I checked.

[arianadream]

Okay, here's part 2! I'm not sure exactly how many parts this will be, but I'm guessing four or five? I haven't figured out exactly how I'm dividing it up.

Sound and Fury, part 2

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carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling AdiosToreador [AT]

CG: HEY TAVROS, QUIT SCREWING AROUND FOR A SECOND, I MIGHT HAVE FOUND YOU A SERVER.
AT: uHH, HEY kARKAT, GUESS WHAT, i’M MAKING UHH, A LOT OF PROGRESS HERE, tHIS IS FUN,
CG: YEAH, I KNOW, GAMZEE ALREADY TOLD ME YOU’RE BUILDING SOME KIND OF INSANE TOWER. LOOK, I’M JUST ABOUT TO GO TALK TO VRISKA. AS SOON AS SHE AGREES TO JOIN, I’LL GET HER SET UP SO YOU CAN ENTER THE MEDIUM.
AT: uHH, NOT TO BE, UHH, UNGRATEFUL, BUT I WONDER IF THAT’S UHH, THE BEST IDEA,
CG: WHY NOT? SHIT, I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS. YOU’RE JUST GONNA HAVE TO DEAL WITH IT.
AT: uHH, WELL, OKAY, I GUESS,

carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased trolling AdiosToreador [AT]

***

Fortunately, Karkat needs Vriska as badly as she needs the rest of the Red Team. She sneers as she runs the install program for Sgrub, disliking the prospect of having to muck about helping poor whiny baby Tavros get his sorry ass into the Medium. Useless lump of flesh and bone bulges. At least she has a decent server, with Kanaya promising to get her into the Medium as soon as possible. You can say what you like about Vriska’s fussy meddlerfriend (and Vriska often does), but Kanaya is definitely reliable.

Vriska sighs and leans her chin in her hand, elbow propped on the desk, while the fingers of her other hand tap impatiently. Man, does this program take forever to install! There’s the psychedelic colors, and the spinning grub with the status bar beneath it. Sollux sure does have some weird ideas about what makes a good loading screen or a…what’s it called? User interface? She’s never had much time for computers, beyond what she needs to know to effectively use them for messaging or FLARPing.

Aha, finally! The program is installed, and there’s Tavros on her screen, his disgustingly cheery and annoyingly hesitant face staring out at her. She’d like to wipe that grin off his face. In fact, as soon as she messages him, the grin fades. She takes a perverse satisfaction in this, at the same time that it bothers her a little. If only the kid would man up a little! It’s almost too easy to upset him. Although…he’s never really upset, just uneasy, nervous, or sad. Why can’t he ever get angry, like a normal person? Damn, so annoying! In fact, it’s so annoying that she’s going to harass him a little, just to blow off some steam.

Too bad things go to hell fast. Vriska doesn’t have time for much harassment before she and Tavros both realize that the meteors are on their way, and they’re going to have to work quickly if they don’t want to see his hive become a smoking hole in the ground. Vriska probably wouldn’t mind, she tells him, but they need everyone in the game, so she’s just going to have to pull his ass out of the fire, again. Fortunately, Karkat has explained the procedure, so it’s quick work to deploy the necessary equipment and get the cruxite artifact made using the alchemiter. Vriska grumbles and whines a little about having to build Tavros ramps to get to the alchemiter, but her heart isn’t in it. They’re in too much of a hurry, and there’s work to be done.

There’s always time to gloat and harass and meddle, but sometimes in the interest of efficiency, it has to be put off for later. Never let it be said that Vriska Serket isn’t flexible in the pursuit of her goals. She always wins, after all. Always. Just ask her old FLARPing pals.

She always gets revenge, too, come to that…

***

You and Equius proceed to the next gate in your realm. It’s a bit of a walk, and there are plenty of imps along the way, but it’s almost too easy to defeat them, especially in your new robot body. You have to admit, Equius did a good job. To pass the time, you converse.

“It is quite acceptable, is it not? I used the finest materials available to me.”

“Yes, it’s fine. Thank you.”

“Vriska wanted it to be a surprise. In fact, I believe she intended to double cross me and present it as a gift solely from herself.”

“I know. I expected that. It doesn’t really matter, though.”

“She doesn’t make you angry? Don’t her machinations and schemes disturb you at all?”

You turn to him, orange-red eyes flaring as you casually smash an imp into grist with one hand. “Not those schemes. I knew what she was up to and had taken her insincerity into account. She was attempting to curry favor with me – or perhaps simply to assuage her own guilt. It didn’t matter. Not like before.”

“So, it did matter before, then.”

You continue walking, slowly, and he keeps pace as you answer him. “Not really. I didn’t care much. Revenge didn’t make any difference to me anymore, and I had other things to worry about. It just didn’t seem important.”

He shakes his head in disapproval at her apparent calm, missing the flash of her eyes. “Aradia, if you are going to be a blue-blood, you must learn how to act. One of the nobility does not allow an insult or violent act to go unpunished, especially when committed by one of lesser blood. Even if it is only a little lesser. I cannot believe you are not angry with her. She killed you, after all.”

You stop suddenly, not facing him. You stiffen – well, as a robot, you’re already pretty stiff, but your joints freeze into place and you straighten. “Vriska didn’t kill me. Not directly. She couldn’t reach me directly, so she sent someone else to do it. She sent the boy I loved to kill me. Sollux unleashed his psychic optical beams on me and my hive, killing not only me but my lusus, as well. The rest of you are losing your lusii now, but you can bring them back as sprites. I am my own sprite, and I will never see my lusus again. You’ve given me a new body, but I am still dead.” Your voice is cold and metallic at first, but it begins to heat, the words coming out like hissing steam. Equius takes an unconscious step back. “You think I’m not angry with her? Maybe it didn’t matter before, but you are far too good at what you do, Equius. Your robots can move and think and speak, but they can also feel.”

“Ah. Yes. I believe we established that a little while ago. Which reminds me, when we next stop, I would like to have a look at that rip in your torso. The heart is not as vital as in a troll body, but the robotic functions will not work properly without some attention to –”

You cut him off, grabbing him by his shirt once more. Your new body is strong, almost as strong as his. He could probably shake you off if he chose, but he doesn’t, whether through surprise or some strange kind of deference. He doesn’t appear to know what to make of you just yet. You aren’t sure what to make of yourself.

“She killed me, Equius. She paralyzed my teammate, used my own boyfriend to kill me, killed my lusus and destroyed my home, and then when her teammate got revenge on her for it, she blinded her through an even more twisted and perverse series of circuitous manipulations. And you think I’m not angry, now that I have emotions to feel with again? You think I don’t want to rip her to pieces, to make her pay, to cause her the kind of pain and anguish she caused me? It happened so many months ago, but it’s like a fresh wound. My hate for her runs through me with every pulse of the blue blood you gave me.”

Your hand relaxes, and the fury runs out of your voice, dying down to a simmer. Equius doesn’t seem as afraid this time as before, when you ripped out your own heart and smashed it in front of him. He’s sweating, as usual, but he doesn’t let his voice betray him as he brushes the wrinkles out of his shirt. “Speaking of which, let’s stop. I wish to have a look at that heart of yours and make certain you haven’t damaged it too badly. I will remove the chip while I’m at it, although you’ve certainly smashed it into uselessness.”

There is a cold satisfaction in your voice as you nod. “See that you do. I believe there is a shelter underneath that cylinder ahead.”

The two of you steer towards a towering metallic structure, not unlike the innards of a music box. The voice in your head returns now, having watched recent events mostly in silence, with the occasional expression of amusement.

So that’s what happened to ya. I thought there was something weird about this whole ghost and robot crap. You finally care about the way the brat treats you, don’t you? You know, if it was me, I woulda knocked her into next Tuesday and back about ten times already. You’re a funny kid. Listen, girl, she ever tries to mess with ya again, you just come to me. I’ll help ya out. That shit just ain’t right. Someone’s gotta put her in her place.

Yes. You are starting to believe this too. But his is not the only voice telling you this, although the voices of the dead whisper of other purposes. Something will have to be done about Vriska, and sooner rather than later. You must plan this out. First, Equius will have to repair the damage to your systems, and then you must continue traveling through the Land of Quartz and Melody, gathering grist and experience. You will need it for what you intend to do next.

More coming later today!

[Ember]

Nextian: This continues to be amazing. I pretty much agree with Red Pen. I need to save this so I can show it to people as an example of how to write a transplant crossover that is awesome and entertaining rather than stupid and boring.

Red Pen: Oh. My. God. I think I am in love with you. Or maybe just with your Rose, I don't know. In any case, I certainly love "Unhinged." I love stories that play with all the different forms that power comes in, especially the subtle and unexpected ones. You do that so, so well, and I am enjoying it immensely.

[silrini]

Aaaaaaaaaaaand breaking the awesome insanity-is-fun fic combo, I bring you an end to the previous Bro story I posted here. IT TURNED OUT SO MUCH LONGER THAN I PLANNED. I hope this doesn't happen with the other ones I plan to write. Anyway:

First part:

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It felt awkward, taking a baby back to an apartment decorated with freaky fetish puppets, but hey, it wasn’t like you had known he’d been coming today exactly, or you would’ve cleaned up some. Besides, they were ironic puppets, so they didn’t count, right? Right. It also felt weird putting the kid down on the table, but you didn’t really have any appropriate chairs and you needed both hands to dial. Actually, it was kinda amazing the lack of foresight you’d had, considering you had known the kid was coming. You resolved not to let Lalonde know. You didn’t need to give her more any more ammunition against you.

The phone rang several times before Lalonde picked up and snapped into the phone, “What?”

“Nice to talk to you too, Lalonde.” You had called your adoptive sister by her last name since she had married some ridiculously old and wealthy scientist just to have him die half a year later (the fact that both parties had agreed that the best way for her to get all his research and scientific discoveries was for them to marry was completely irrelevant in your mind). In retaliation, she had started referring to you by your last name as well.

“Oh, Strider. Hang up, would you?”

You frowned. “What?” But she was already gone. Confused, you slowly put the phone back on the receiver. A minute later it rang, and you picked it up. “Lalonde?”

“Of course. What do you need, Strider?”

“What was that all about?” you asked, keeping half an eye on the baby, who was examining the things on the table with interest.

“I was just about to head out when you called, so I had you hang up so I could call you back on my cellular phone.”

You winced. “You’re talking to me on one of those huge blocky things? Should that be even possible?” You could see the picture in your head, and it was absolutely ridiculous.

“No, I don’t think so, but Dr. Harley sent me this one, so who knows what it’s capable of.”

“That man is fucking crazy, you know.”

“Yes, but who of our acquaintance isn’t? What did you need, Strider?”

Might as well say it and be done. “A meteor just crashed onto my favorite record store today.”

“Aha. So you now have a newborn in your care? Is it a boy or a girl?”

“Boy.”

“What are you going to name him?”

“Uh…still thinking about that. Anyway, it’s not so much about the kid himself as what came with him.”

“Mm-hm.” Her voice was completely uninterested. “Excuse me for a moment, Strider, but I have my own meteor to deal with right now.”

“I am shocked to hear that, just shocked. We have never, ever had a convenient coincidence like this happen before, ever.”

“Shut up Strider. I’ll be back shortly.” You sighed as you heard the tell-tale sounds of Lalonde putting the phone down on the ground and heading off. You turned back to the table and nearly had a heart attack when you saw the kid had gotten ahold of one of your smuppets, and was happily chewing on the protruding back end of the toy.

“Ohhhh no. No no no no no. I’m gonna go out and get you some real baby toys, because there is no way I’m gonna let you chew on the fetish puppets. Come on, give me that now.” The kid had a surprisingly strong grip, but you managed to wrench it from him and put it on the counter behind you. The kid screwed up his face and began to cry.

“Dammit!” You fumbled with the phone until both your hands were free and picked him up, which didn’t make him stop crying but made you feel less like a complete ass. “Dude, don’t cry, you can’t have the smuppet, man, they’re not age appropriate. Having you chew on smuppet ass is a level of irony even I won’t sink to.”

“So you admit you have to sink to achieve these oh-so-wonderful ‘levels of irony’?”

You jumped. “Dammit Lalonde!”

Her voice was smug. “Your oh-so-ironic puppets are suddenly not age-appropriate, despite you telling me over and over there wouldn’t be a problem with them. Admit it, Strider, you just lost.”

“Oh shut up, Lalonde,” you growled, more concerned about the way the child was crying, thin little wails that tugged on your heartstrings. “The puppets will be fine. The smuppets, on the other hand, are a problem. You never asked me about the smuppets, only the puppets. Ha.”

“Is he crying because you took away his puppet?” Lalonde asked, completely ignoring your jibe. “Try feeding him. I’ve read up on this. Babies will cry when they’re hungry or tired, and I’m sure travel by meteor would be exhausting for a child. I would feed him and put him to bed.”

“Wow, Lalonde, you researched how to take care of babies? How very scientist of you,” you mocked, even as you walked over to the fridge to see if you had any food you could feed the infant on your shoulder, who’s cries had subsided into a sort of snuffling hiccup. Of course, when you opened the door, a couple unbelievably shitty swords tumbled out. Why the hell had you put those in there? Oh wait, it was because you were tired of tripping over them in your bedroom. Wow, sometimes you had the worst ideas. You peered at the meager amount of perishables in your fridge. “So what should I give him? Milk or something?”

Second part:

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“No, the milk we drink isn’t what babies need. These children, actually, look old enough to feed them solid foods, as long as it’s soft and easy for them to chew.”

“Oh. Ummmm…I have some ramen?”

You could practically hear the eye-roll. “Ramen is not something you feed a baby, Strider.”

“Okay, okay! Hey, wait, I know!” You opened up your freezer and pulled out a burrito. Perfect. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to eat the freezer-toughed bread yet, but he would certainly be able to eat the mushy bean interior. And it was reasonably healthy. You felt the baby shiver on your shoulder and make a little whimper of protest, so you shut the door.

“What do you have?” Obviously Lalonde was not trusting your food decisions.

“I’m going to heat up a burrito and feed him the inside.”

Lalonde paused. “…I suppose that’s not the worst thing you could do.” Which essentially meant you had won. Ha. You unwrapped the burrito and stuck it in the microwave.

She continued. “But still, I would go out to the store as quickly as possible and—oh no, don’t chew that, sweetheart, it’s not clean.”

“Oh yeah, I never asked about your kid. Girl or boy?”

“She’s a girl, and she has this filthy-looking rabbit that she was clinging to when she came. It’s all covered in oil and filth and—oh alright, you may have it, but you are not to chew on it again.”

“Oh, yeah, right, that was actually why I was calling you. My kid came with something too, and I was wondering if you could help me out.” The microwave beeped and you pulled out the now-hot burrito.

“Really? I wonder if all the children will arrive with something. Yes, that makes sense. After all, I’m fairly certain we all did, didn’t we? Me with my cat, you with that…puppet, and I believe Dr. Harley has intimated that he and his sister arrived with something as well.”

“Hey, Lil Cal is awesome, okay? Coolest puppet ever. Speaking of which, I have to introduce him to this kid soon.”

“I wish you would stop talking to it like it understands you.”

“He does understand me, Lalonde.”

“Probably, but I wish you would stop it anyway.”

“Anyway,” you stressed, having trouble holding the phone, the baby and cutting a burrito at the same time, “the point is, this kid landed with something that there is no way in hell I am going to be able to take care of, here in the city.” You glanced toward the window that, if you looked out it, would show the little patch of greenery your apartment building boasted. You had put the pony there, since it was the only fenced in bit of green anywhere within a mile of the apartment, and now you were fervently hoping the landlord wouldn’t notice it. Not that you couldn’t afford to pay enough to keep him from doing anything too drastic, but with everything that was or was going to go on here, you would really prefer to keep under the radar for as long as possible.

“Oh? What is it?”

You hesitated. “It’s a pnfgly.” you dropped down to an incoherent mumble on the last word, suddenly imagining Lalonde’s response. Oh, this was going to be fun.

“It’s a what?”

You sighed. “It’s a horse, okay? He came in on a horse.”

“Oh really? What kind of horse?”

“It’s…sorta whiteish and it’s, um…”

“It’s not really a horse, is it?”

“No,” you admitted, using a spoon to awkwardly scrape the burrito mush onto the plate. The kid watched with interest from your lap(sitting had made everything much more manageable).

“What is it?”

You sighed again. “It’s a pony.”

Silence.

“A white pony, with a pink heart on its’ haunch and a giant pink bow tied in its’ mane.”

More silence.

“Now would be the time to laugh hysterically at me.”

“I’m not sure anything I could say at this point would exacerbate the situation any more.” Yep, that was definitely amusement tingeing her voice.

“Look, would you just help me with it? The city is no place for a pony.”

“No, no, of course. I understand completely.” Okay, now there was definitely laughter there. “Was there anything else, or?...”

“No that was it,” you growled into the phone, and as Lalonde burst into outright guffaws, you hung up. “Sisters are a bitch,” you told the baby on your lap. “Don’t ever have one.” His only response was to stretch his hands out to the dismantled burrito. “Yeah, yeah, let’s get you fed and to bed, junior.”

Feeding him was a messy business, as you expected, but almost seconds after you had gotten him all cleaned off he zonked out, little face buried in your shoulder and tiny hands clutching your T-shirt. You moved as gently as you could, but he didn’t even stir as you carried him into the room you had mostly set up, despite Lalonde’s pointed remarks. Well, you’d put a crib in it anyway, and furnished the thing. And so you were able to lay the kid down gently on the pillow and tuck the blankets in around him. His shades were on the table, where he’d left them after he pulled them off and chewed on them for awhile, and you could see how peaceful he looked now, eyes closed and one tiny fist curled up next to his face. You leaned against the crib and watched him for awhile, a strange warm feeling filling your chest. You reached out with one finger and stroked it down his cheek gently.

“Dave. Dave Strider. That’s a good name for you, don’t you think?”

Dave snuggled deeper into the pillow. You watched him sleep and knew, no matter what it took, you were gonna protect this kid from everyone and everything that tried to hurt him.

Woe to them that tried.

Now, off to read the other awesome fics that have been posted here(I've only read nextian's and Red Pen's so far, sorry! XP)

[Graven_Image]

You know, I didn't actually intend this but...

That was my 13th post
The first reponse to it was KarneWarrior's 113th post.

sedentaryOverseer is the secret 13th troll!

No, the initials are supposed to be UU. It's actually Jack.

underhandedUsurper, natch.

[KarneWarrior]

Karkat and the Chocloate Factory
Part 2: Wherein the protagonist finds himself bombarded by large bags of tea leaves and uses this windfall to purchase himself a candy bar. But the candybar is a distraction from the true source of the gOLDEN tICKET and Karkats first bout of not-raging. The story grows more and more meta eventually ending a point in the story that does not leave the reader guessing as preffered. Also, the name rolls for approximately 5 minutes before the director decides to cut the scen

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PSYCHE!

BLUE HELL
Part 3: Steel resolve

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2x PSYCHE OUT COMBO!!

The T.V sparked and fizzled, arcs of electricity dancing over the legs of the newest addition to the electronic, a seemingly misplaced dining chair. A young troll stands in the one room of his house, breathing quite heavily from his earlier exertion. His lusus lies on the floor, the chair it was previously using as a seat torn from beneath it.

"Karkat, my ass hurts... And I'm thirsty. Where's my tea?" Moaned the lusus.
Karkat growled. He wasn't in the mood tonight.

And this is how the night transpired. Seriously, this is all that happened. Something interesting could have transpired, but nothing-

BOOM!

A large bag of tea crashed through the flimsy roof, smashing the plywood to smithereens and startling the narrator into another point of the story. In fact, I'm his understudy, and I don't really know how to do his job all that well. Err...

Karkat (the young troll from earlier) first contemplated using the large bag of tea to smash his lusus into the ground, but reconsidered. Doing so would probably break the bag open, and tea was a rare resource around these parts. At least, we hope so. We don't really know where 'these parts' are, or wether or not there are any tea farms nearby. But we will assume so because the teleprompter tells me to.

Karkat, uhh, dragged the tea bag- no... He like, did this weird thing where he kinda dragged it but kinda... You understand, right? Right, whatever, he took the teabag back to the candy shop and tossed it on the counter. The countergirl (the, uhh, aries girl from earlier on...) just blew a big nubble of gum. It popped and she ate it again. She handed Karkat a candy bar and he tore the wrapper off.

Aww, no deal. Karkat looks- I mean- LOOKED pretty angry. He stomped out of the, uhh, store- Oh thank god the narrators back.

Dear lord boy, you really suck!
Sorry boss!
What the sam hell were- nevermind. No matter.

Karkat stomped out of the candy shop in a rage. the chocolate candy bar was crushed under the sheer power of his rage. the heat of the alternian sunrise was also involved, but Karkat could stand outside a few minutes more before he had to rush home.

Just then, as luck would have it, a wind blew by. In that wind was a newspaper. Within that newspaper was pornography. But more importantly (although less exciting for those of us who can see the story at hand) was the single golden ticket contained within the porn.

The time for the tour was in five minutes. Karkat discarded the newspaper, pocketed the piece of paper, and gOLDEN tICKET in hand rushed off towards the factory.

[SkaianRedeemer]

HEY SKAIANREDEEMER. I LIKE THE CUT OF YOUR JIB. JUST THOUGHT I SHOULD SAY THAT.

Most excellent, I am quite the fan of the cutting of jibs.

[arianadream]

Might as well keep posting this. Looks like it's going to be four parts total.

Sound and Fury, part 3

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AG: Damn it, Kanaya, what is t8king you so long? I got the 8oy wonder over there his little rocket car, and he’s off doing 8oring puzzles.
AG: Come oooooooon, we have WORK to do! 8et you’re just screwing around with your fancy dresses.
GA: No, I Am Not. I Have Been Working On Prototyping Your Kernelsprite. Your Lusus Is Downstairs And Is Eager To Talk To You. By The Way, She Can Talk Now.
AG: Oh, gr8t! I mean…uh…that’s good, I guess.
AG: No 8ig deal, right? Not like I ever needed to talk to her 8efore. 8ut I guess she might have some stuff to s8y.
AG: So, uh, thanks. I’m gonna go talk to her now.
GA: I’m Afraid Not. It Was Crucial To Prototype Her Right Away, But The Meteors Have Been Coming Down Since Before You Sent Tavros The Code. I Believe A Large One Is Headed Straight For You.
GA: We Do Not Have Much Time. Here, I Am Deploying The Punch Card And The Alchemiter Now. They Are Upstairs.
GA: Hurry, I Think You Only Have One Or Two Minutes.
AG: Geeeeeeeez, all r8ght Miss Fussy Impatient 8usy8ody!
GA: I Am Sorry. I Simply Assumed You Would Prefer Not To Be Crushed By A Meteor.
AG: All right, all right, I’m g8ing!
AG: 8ut uh…thanks for 8ringing my m8m 8ack.
AG: Not that it’s a 8ig deal or 8nything.
GA: You’re Welcome. Please Hurry.
AG: Yeah, yeah!

***

Vriska is otherwise occupied getting herself into the Medium, so Tavros finds himself free to explore and play around with his new rocket car. The controls on this thing are so smooth! He’ll have to thank Vriska later, perhaps. He really doesn’t like dealing with her and she can be so unnerving and upsetting, but sometimes she’s actually nice. It’s sort of confusing.

Wheeeee! He does a barrel roll, then dips down to skim over the tops of the sand dunes below. This is awesome! Wait, what’s that ahead?

Oh wow, there’s some ruins up there. Maybe there are clues inside. Tavros thinks he’s supposed to find a gate somewhere, but he’s not sure where it is – maybe the ruins will help him figure that out. If he can make some progress before Vriska comes back, maybe she won’t be so upset at him.

Some people would be angry at Vriska for the way she treats them. Tavros has a hard time doing that, though. She’s not very nice and he doesn’t like the way she harasses him, but he can’t even seem to summon Rufio to be mad for him. He just feels kind of sad, and a little frustrated, in a depressed sort of way.

But at other times he’s really excited because hey, this game looks like it could be so much fun! He can’t wait to see what’s in those ruins. He pushes the turbo button to accelerate the rocket car forward, leaving a trail of smoke in the sky after him. Man, this rocket car is so awesome, you have no idea.

***

You have enough grist to begin work. You left Equius without saying good bye; you have no time to lose. Back at the remains of your hive, you touch down next to the alchemiter. You take stock of the tools available to you. First, time to warm up a bit.

First of all, although it’s nice having a laptop, it’s not as portable as a hands-free device would be. You consider the materials available to you and decide this is a project for later on. You’ll have to see what you can collect. Still…you dig up the remains of the old Troll Indiana Jones poster from the wreckage of your hive. It is apparently not so damaged that you can’t use it, and you combine it with your Crosbytop to create the Indytop. An excellent choice, you think.

Oh look, there were some dice in your old respiteblock. You try combining them with a pickaxe to get caltrops. These could come in handy. What else can you do with the pickaxe? Combining it with your old whip seems to result in a spiked cat-o’-nine-tails. Very useful. A trowel crossed with the pickaxe produces a trowelaxe, with trowels on either side. Huh. You…suppose you might find a use for it later. Maybe.

All right, time to get serious. You collected assorted shapes, sizes, and colors of quartz during your adventuring with Equius. The voices of the dead have advised you that they may have special properties related to your title. You decide to try combining some of the quartz with a music box.

The results are surprising. It seems the spirits were correct about the advisability of this. You take a few moments to experiment. You crank the cylinder, and as it plays against the metal teeth of the comb, reality ripples for a moment, and you find yourself in blackness. It is as if you have stepped outside of time, somehow. The song finishes, and you reappear again next to your alchemiter. In the valley down below you can see yourself and Equius, battling imps. It seems you have traveled back in time an hour or two.

This could be highly useful. You know that the two teams will eventually be combined, but no one else knows this yet. There has not yet been a connection established between the worlds of the Red Team. You can likely use the quartz music boxes – apparently their official name is the Crystal Combs – to advance through time to a point where the Red Team and Blue Team are connected, then travel through the worlds before traveling back in time to the present, in order to immediately visit any member of the team that you wish.

Nice work, kid. Applause all around, and all that. Ya made some good shit, now let’s see what you can do with it.

The smoldering fury that you had managed to tamp down temporarily now begins to flare up again. No longer distracted by the necessity of advancing in the game, the emotions begin to roil inside you once more.

The spirits of the dead told you that the others of both teams have dreamselves. You don’t, because you died quite some time before the game began. However, for the others, waking their dreamselves will become crucial in order for events to flow as they must. Some are awake already, but everyone must go through a different process in order to awaken. Some will need help. One in particular requires your attention.

There are a number of ways this could be handled, but the easiest is also the one that appeals most to your newly revived and intensely burning emotions.

Aha. Kill two birds with one stone, yeah? I like that plan.

You wind the Crystal Combs, preparing to jump to the future and make your way through the gates. It will be a long journey, but you should arrive exactly when you need to.

Go on, girl. Make her pay.

You appear to blip out of existence as the tinny chimes of your time-traveling music boxes send you forward along the temporal plane. This revenge is long overdue.

Final installment coming this evening. Comments appreciated.

[Nakkirz]

Oh god Red Pen, Unhinged is killing me in all the best ways. I hate to see the Crew being torn up like this, but Rose is just so irrevocably and indisputably clever and cunning that I keep on rooting for her. On the other hand, though, I really fucking hope that the Crew is going to turn out at least a little okay so that my heart doesn't break. Awesome job. ;-;