Not sure if this is going to be good or not, but I want to try, at least. If you don't play Dwarf Fortress (*cough*elf*cough*) you probably won't enjoy it as much, assuming it's enjoyable at all. Still, I feel it's my duty as unofficial, self-proclaimed Sburb historian to tell the story of:
Urists and Urists, our society has now ended.
In everything, there is a beginning. Occasionally this beginning will be hard, almost impossible to find. For example, no man yet has discovered the begining of a circle, becuase they are not aware of the circle's incredible ability to span time and space, and their inability to grasp that the bottom is actually the start.
In short terms, humans are rather dull on their best days, and quite stupid on most.
However, at one time, there was only one universe. This universe is why all universes after (read: all of them) have had at least 3 things in common.
1: Goblins, elves, and dwarves all have their share in fairytales.
2: Cats are considered bad luck.
Everything else changes, and everything has a beginning. Even in this massive circle, spanning not just time and space but the 5th, 6th, 7th, and 11th dimensions as well. Everything has beginning, and this is the story I tell to you now.
The world itself was called The Oracle of Apple-Bark Dreaming. It's not entirely certain why such a cumbersome name was chosen, though it does manage to roll of the tongue better than a few others after it. It is also meaningless, even to those on the planet itself. In fact, most of the inhabitants didn't even realize the world existed, so oblivious were they. Of course, those same inhabitants looked to a massive skeletal koala as the avatar for their god of rain and harvest.
Of course, it was the stereotypical setting, at least. Great undead beasts, dwarves, elves. The races were'nt quite as you'd imagine though. For example, the elves condoned and even encouraged cannabalism. The dwarves cared little for metals, prefering to see exactly how much molten rock was required to cover the continent in obsidian. Metal was simply a means to a end.
Amongst the horrors of this first world, there arrived a civilization of dwarves destined to change not only the universe, but to set in motion the biggest wheel of strife and terror and dismal solitude ever seen. They would have been quite proud.
"Cog Duneberry? You're wanted by the Computational Device." Came the sound of Urists voice from around the corner. Cog ignored the voice and continued to lovingly stack his collection of goblin thongs and socks in the chest beside him.
"Cog, they need you." Urist poked her head around the corner, but immediately became intranced by the shimmer of soft, if slightly stained, cloth. Cog held up the thong for Urist to admire more clearly.
"Aye, I'll take my damn time though. Lookit this one, Urist! Look at that artwork! Masterfully spun silk, goblin made, dwarf obtained. Well, elephant, I guess..."
Urist shook her head rapidly. "Cog. Cog! They really need you, now!"
"Ugh, I'll be goin' then. But don't touch my thongs!"
"Wouldn't dream of it," came the reply.
Cog stalked out of the room, keeping an eye on his secretary and housemate. He made his way through the fortress, dismissing the cries of "HEY COG!" with angry grunts. Soon enough, he was several levels down and in a sweltering room covered in gears and spiderwebs. A cave spider chittered at him, so he crushed it with a fist. The blow glanced off the dark carapace and the spider retaliated, biting at Cogs hand.
Cog leapt back far farther than was strictly needed, landing oe foot ankle-deep in molten rock for his troubles. He yelped and pulled it out. Luckily it was only bruised. Somehow. He really didn't want to think about why magma would bruise skin. A bit of it flaked off. Cog grunted.
"OI! COG!" Cog looked about for the obnoxious dwarf yelling his name about the whole damn fortress. Sure enough, the chief of Engineering waddled up, dabbing at his forehead with a rope reed cloth. Cog snatched it out of his hands and threw it into the magma, where it floated for a bit before rapidly burning to a crisp.
"I'M GONNA TELL THE MAYOR ON YOU!" screeched the CoE.
"Ach. Shut up, Monom, Paddlewallows won't listen to you, he's got bigger fish to clean."
"HE WILL! HE WILL! I KNOW HE WILL! BUT COME ON, WE GOTTA GET YOU IN THE CHAMBER." yelled the fat little man, and he stuck his hand into Cogs and began to waddle away. Cog let himself be drawn forward, into a massive room full of tubing and pressure plates. A blue cobalt lever sat on the floor a little ways away.
Monom tried to push Cog into the cage, falling on his rear the moment Cog decided to actually move. On it's own, the door shut, and locked. Cog threw himself at the bars, yelling, certain that this was an attempt to steal his thongs.
A child wandered in, mindlessly sucking on a thumb. He stared indifferently at the tantruming dwarfin a cage before throwing the switch.
Nothing happened. The door clicked and unlocked, but Cog was done with his tantrum. Little did he know that at this very time, several servers were homing in on the invisible, unheared electric force unleashed in that room and others like it accross the dwarven kingdom. What was noticed, was the giant explosion as the first meteor hit the fort. The entrance tunnel collapsed, and everyone in the tunnel died instantly and painlessly. This depressed most everyone in the fortress instantly, but not quite painlessly.
A giant white machine appeared in front of Cog and dropped to the floor with a thud. Another, thinner machine was dropped right next to the first. And finally, an array of buttons was dropped facing the opposite direction on the other side of the machine. Cog took a moment to admire the handiwork of whatever placed these machines.
Then, a small stone knocked him on the head. Cog whirled around, but the only one there was the child, sobbing in the corner. As if in afterthought, a fourth machine dropped right next to the child, who leapt high enough to knock his head on the cavern roof and knock himself out.
Then, several more things happened in rapid succession. Another meteor rocked the fortress, a stone dropped from the roof onto one of the machines, which produced a spasming ball of light, and several cards dropped out of nowhere onto Cogs head. The cards immediately arranged themselves into a clockwork formation and began to turn. A final card dropped, but this one had holes in it. Cog caught the card and looked at it. Though the holes obscured the image, it looked to be a brownish cat statue.
The ball of light began to make odd noises and flitted back and forth btween the cat-card and one of the thin white machines. Cog took his best guess and jammed the card into one of the slots. The ball of light flitted back over to the biggest machine, which produced a brown cylinder.
Cog nabbed the cylinder and put it where the light-ball indicated. The thin machine, now identified as some sort of lathe, made what could be possibly called a totem. Again following the instructions of the sprite, more out of curiosity than any logic, Cog put the totem on the other big machine.
A thin arm shot out and spat a beam of light at the totem. This Cog percieved as dangerous, so he broke the arm off. Luckily, it had inished it's job of reading the totem, and managed to produce the cat.
Which Cog broke, mostly because he felt like it.
At this point, it should be mentioned that Sburb, or Sgrub, or Sdorf, or any variation of such, has never made it past the beta stage. There is a simple reason for this: the bug that causes the end of the world. The bug has yet to be fixed, though in the last incarnation of the game, the one that births the universe of Cog, does fix this bug, completely on accident. The bug is replaced by the far more annoying though considerably less fatal "disappearing grist bug". Wherein everything costs double the amount of grist and roughly half the grist dropped by enimies is unable to be picked up.
I'll end it here, at this cliffhanger, because if I don't continue I at least want to piss off the one person suffering through this.
~KarneWarrior: Templar of History - Sburb session 1.0 (NULL)
Augh, Raequiem, that was SO DAMN SWEET. Excellent ending, all the little threads were wrapped up nice and pretty like a present :3 Your Dave is just delightful, especially the way you portray him with Jade. Actually, all the character interactions were a lot of fun to read. You've no idea how much I'm looking forward to the illustrated bits! All those kids and trolls in fancy suits and dresses, mmmyes. Best end!
apocalypseArisen [AA] began trolling twinArmageddons [TA]
AA: s0llux please
AA: i really need t0 talk t0 y0u
AA: its n0t ab0ut the 0ther day
AA: we can f0rget that even happened if y0u want
AA: i just
AA: s0mething happened t0 tavr0s
AA: s0llux please i just need t0 talk t0 s0me0ne
AA: 0k fine
apocalypseArisen [AA] began trolling twinArmageddons [TA]
AA: s0llux c0me 0n
AA: this is getting ridicul0us
AA: im w0rried ab0ut y0u
AA: please s0llux i d0nt need any0ne else t0 w0rry ab0ut
AA: i need y0ur advice
AA: i need y0u t0 tell me im w0rrying 0ver n0thing and that everythings g0ing t0 be 0k
AA: what did i d0
AA: why w0nt y0u talk t0 me
AA: i d0nt understand
AA: please answer me
apocalypseArisen [AA] began trolling twinArmageddons [TA]
AA: just tell me what i did wr0ng
AA: im s0rry
AA: s0llux i d0nt expect anything 0f y0u
AA: all i really wanted was f0r y0u t0 be happy
AA: i d0nt kn0w what i did t0 make y0u n0t want t0 talk t0 me
AA: but whatever it was im s0rry
AA: please just say s0mething
AA: my best friend just g0t thr0wn 0ff a cliff by s0me psych0tic bitch and n0w this
AA: i d0nt kn0w what t0 d0
apocalypseArisen [AA] began trolling twinArmageddons [TA]
AA: this is the last time im g0ing t0 c0ntact y0u
AA: after this ill give up
AA: i just wanted t0 tell y0u that
AA: i guess
AA: i was never angry at y0u
AA: i was never disapp0inted with y0u
AA: i may have been frustrated but that happens d0esnt it
AA: in the end i was 0k with whatever y0u wanted t0 d0
AA: except this
AA: this isnt fair s0llux
AA: just tell me what i did t0 make you angry
AA: 0r upset
AA: 0r whatever reas0n y0ure ign0ring me
AA: just s0 i can get 0n with my life i guess
AA: surely y0u can d0 that much f0r me
AA: cant y0u?
AA: 0k i cant just keep blabbering here
AA: h0ping y0ull answer
AA: because the l0nger i talk the m0re chance i have that y0ull resp0nd
AA: and this w0nt be the last time i ever talk t0 y0u
AA: 0k i get it
AA: g00dbye i guess
twinArmageddons [TA] began trolling apocalypseArisen [AA]
TA: iim not angry at you.
TA: iim 2orry ii diidnt re2pond.
TA: ii cant apologiize enough.
TA: ii thought ii could keep thii2 up but 2eeiing you hurt ii2 two hard.
TA: whiich wa2 what ii wa2 tryiing two avoiid but iit look2 liike no matter what iit2 goiing two happen.
TA: hey are you there?
TA: ok good.
TA: lii2ten ii have two make thii2 2hort.
AA: i d0nt understand
TA: ii know.
TA: ii dont entiirely under2tand eiither but the voiice2 dont liie.
TA: theyve been gettiing louder.
TA: and 2tronger.
TA: iim afraiid they may have 2ome 2ort of control over me now and they may make me do thiing2 ii dont want two do.
AA: what d0 y0u mean
AA: theyve been getting l0uder and str0nger f0r me t00
AA: ever since i first met y0u
AA: but h0w can they p0ssibly c0ntr0l y0u
AA: s0llux what is this all ab0ut
TA: iim tryiing two explaiin.
TA: theyre 2ayiing iim goiing two kiill you.
TA: ye2 lately that2 all that2 been clear.
TA: over and over iin2ii2tiing that ii have two.
AA: well d0nt listen t0 them!
TA: you know iit2 not that ea2y!
TA: and iit doe2nt work that way.
TA: theyre u2ually really ambiiguou2 but when theyre clear theyre clear for a rea2on.
TA: thii2 ii2 2eriiou2 aradiia the probabiiliity that ii could kiill you ii2 huge if theyre thii2 clear about iit.
AA: but h0w
TA: II DONT KNOW!
TA: that2 the problem ii dont know 2o thii2 ii2 the only way two avoiid iit.
TA: after thii2 conver2atiion we cant talk two each other anymore.
TA: we cant 2ee each other anymore.
TA: that2 the only way youll 2tay 2afe.
AA: y0ure being stupid 0_0
TA: THII2 II2NT JU2T ME HATIING MY2ELF HERE ARADIIA thii2 ii2 2eriiou2 come on!
TA: why cant you 2ee thii2?!
AA: because its n0nsense!
AA: if the v0ices are that p0werful then y0u av0iding me isnt g0ing t0 st0p them
AA: if theyre just telling the future then it will happen anyway
AA: if theyre the 0nes making y0u d0 it then theyll make sure it happens
AA: i refuse t0 spend h0wever l0ng i have left dreading my death and n0t even being able t0 see y0u in the meantime
AA: s0 screw the v0ices and screw fate and screw this av0iding each 0ther business
AA: if y0u d0nt get over here right n0w s0 i can see y0u im c0ming t0 find y0u
AA: s0 make y0ur decisi0n
TA: ok ju2t chiill out iill be riight there.
Aradia was a mess, but Sollux couldn’t see that at first. By the time he came within range, without even planting his feet on the ground, she had already plowed into him, knocking him backwards into one of her dig sites. His heart nearly exploded with the terror of the unexpected fall before he came to his senses and suspended their bodies in the air moments before impact.
From her position on top of him, Aradia chanced a glance up at him. Even with his shades obscuring half his face he looked angry. Scared, and angry.
“You can thay to thcrew the fateth all you want, but no way are you going to make their predicthion happen fathter! Cut it out!”
“Sorry,” she responded—because he sounded the way he did, not because she was.
He sighed shallowly, too out of breath for anything else, and shook his head, keeping a tight grip on her as he righted them back onto their feet on ground level. When he let her go, she merely gripped him tighter, defiantly. Wary of her horns, he reached up and stroked her hair hesitantly and let her cry against his shoulder.
“I don’t even care if you’re angry with me,” she gasped between sobs. “It’s better to see you like this than not at all.”
“I’m not angry with you,” he told her, squeezing his eyes shut. “I’m jutht angry.” But he did his best to quell it anyway.
Time passed. Sollux had no idea how much the change in how clearly he could see had to do with his eyes adjusting to the low light and how much it had to do with the sun getting closer to the horizon. Eventually, her sobs slowed, grew further apart, and faded away, and soon the tenseness in her shoulders also diminished.
“How ith he?” he eventually asked.
She looked up at him, confused.
“Tavroth. Have you theen him?”
She shook her head, misery overcoming her expression once more. “It’s not an easy walk to get there. It’s shorter than to your hivestem, but there’s a really deep, wide river in the way, and I can’t—”
Stepping back, Sollux held out an arm to her. “Let’th go.”
“How long hath it been thinthe it happened?”
“A couple hours, but—”
“Then we’d better hurry. Who knowth what could have happened to him between then and now?”
Aradia licked her lips nervously but nodded swiftly and stepped back into his arms. Their FLARP game may have ended, and with it any danger from the game-spawned monsters, but plenty of real-life dangers awaited an injured young troll with no way to defend himself. Holding her tight, Sollux focused on getting them off the ground and on following her directions to Tavros’s hive. He held his breath as they crossed the river, but she remained securely in his arms.
“There’s his hive!” she exclaimed finally, pointing as the top of a windmill appeared over a large hill in the distance.
“Thould we check that firtht?”
“…No,” she decided, thinking quickly. “We need to find that cliff, I have a feeling he’s probably still…”
Sollux floated around it and discovered that finding the location of Tavros’s incident would not prove too difficult; it lay just beyond the other troll’s modest hive, and from here it looked pretty steep.
Sollux set Aradia down near the edge of the cliff and peered over, spying a small green figure down below and an even smaller white speck that was probably his lusus. Lines in the green sand by the beach marked where the tiny creature had probably attempted to drag him away from the water’s edge, but it obviously hadn’t gotten very far, and it had little chance of lifting the injured troll up this huge cliff.
“Thtay here,” he told Aradia, pointing to the ground where they stood, “pleathe.” The desperation in his voice more than his words kept her feet planted as she watched him slowly descend the height of the cliff until she lost sight of him.
As Sollux went further down, Tavros’s form became more and more distinct, and the white speck that was his lusus began flapping around in a more agitated manner. It approached him, and he swiped at it to get it to leave him alone. “I’m trying to help him, thtupid, buthhh off!”
It seemed to understand him without taking offense to the slur and calmed down, following him as he landed beside Tavros’s prone form. “Great, at leatht yourth ith thmarter than mine,” he muttered, carefully rolling the motionless troll’s body into a more natural position. Beneath the green cap his eyes fluttered open, looking panicked at the unfamiliar figure next to him.
“Umm,” he started hesitantly, words coming thickly from his mouth as if he’d hit his head much too hard upon landing. “You can, uh…take my stuff if you want. But. I don’t have much. And…it would be nice, if you didn’t hurt me…
“Because,” he continued, struggling to keep his eyes open, “there’s not much left to hurt…either…”
Under any other circumstances, Sollux would have snorted out of mirth at the fact that Tavros apparently spoke exactly as he typed. But now was not the time.
“Tavroth, it’th me, tA. Aradia and I are going to bring you back to your hive, ok?”
“Oh. Sollux. She’s…told me a lot. About you. …Ok.”
Frowning, Sollux took stock of the other troll, the way his legs sat uselessly upon the rocky sand. He scooped Tavros up carefully, sure the damage to his lower half was irreversible but not wishing to cause further injury to the rest of him. To his left, the small winged lusus buzzed excitedly around his head.
“Tinkerbull, it’s…ok, I’m in good hands now…I think… And. Look, I think I’m about to. Fly.”
Sollux turned a disturbed expression away from Tavros and focused on the edge of the cliff high above them as they rose up slowly into the air. “Aradia, thtep back!” he called, seeing her eyes peering out over the ledge.
She had scrambled a couple yards back by the time he emerged from down below, the hurt troll in his arms struggling with all his might to stay conscious while he was carried through the air.
“Can you get hith door open?”
Together, they got Tavros inside his hive and onto the floor, troll respiteblocks lacking any more suitable piece of furniture onto which he could be deposited. His friends knelt beside him, prodding up and down his legs and asking if he could feel it, and each time he hesitated they were briefly hopeful, but the answer was always, eventually, no.
“I’m…not getting better. …Am I?”
Sollux and Aradia glanced at each other, various shades of frowns written on their faces.
“I don’t think tho,” Sollux finally said, standing up. While he paced the length of the block, sometimes pausing to take stock of what was contained within, Aradia scooted closer and took Tavros’s hand.
“Tavros, I’m so sorry… I never meant for this to happen. I don’t know what it was, while you were messaging me there was this guy standing there and just…I couldn’t move, he was just so…”
“Aradia, it’s…ok, it wasn’t your fault. And. I know that…if you hadn’t been distracted, that…you would have. Saved me. Probably. But that was just…another part of her plan I think. And. I guess it worked.”
Tears welled back up in her eyes as she listened to him stumble through his words, as she squeezed his hand and felt only the briefest of touches back.
“Does it hurt?” she said quietly.
“At first it didn’t, it was…just invisible. But. Now it is, very, very…painful. The parts that I can feel. Anyway.”
She choked back another sob. “Sollux, isn’t there any way to fix him?”
He stopped to glance over his shoulder at the two of them, Aradia looking back at him expectantly while Tavros simply lied still, lacking the strength even to be hopeful.
“That’th not really my area of exthpertithe,” he answered, frowning. “I could maybe think of a way to make it eathier for him to get around, but…”
“You could…do that. Maybe?”
Maybe he had enough strength left to be fed hope, if not make it himself. For some reason, though, it just made Sollux’s chest feel heavy with the weight of that responsibility.
“Maybe,” was all he would promise.
“At least now you’re out of immediate danger,” Aradia put in, trying to feed on some of that hope herself. “As long as we keep this on the down-low no one has any reason to think anything out of the ordinary happened, and you won’t…”
She couldn’t finish that thought out loud. Even without his powers, Sollux knew her worry was over him being culled. He wondered if Tavros understood the danger as well as he did.
“For now you’ll jutht have to retht and try to recover your thtrength,” he interjected, not entirely wanting to know the answer.
“Yes, I…think I will have plenty of time. To do that.”
Aradia shuddered and stood. “Where’s your husktop? I’ll bring it over so we can be in touch and you can let me know how you’re holding up.”
He directed her hesitantly, and soon the device was within reach and Aradia had gathered herself.
“It’th getting late,” Sollux eventually reminded her, giving her a meaningful glance. “And we both need to get back.”
The injured troll blinked wearily from where he lay on the floor. “Umm. Yeah?”
He could barely summon the energy to appear surprised when she returned to the floor to hug him tightly. “I’ll make this up to you somehow,” she murmured into his ear. “I promise. I’ll talk to Terezi and if…if she’ll help me, great. If not, I’ll do it myself. But that psycho won’t get away with this.”
“That’s…nice, Aradia, but I think…that may not be necessary, and also it might…be a little danger—”
“Tavros, you’re too nice for your own good.” She was crying again: sorrowful, rusty tears running in streams down her cheeks. “Maybe you can forgive her, somehow, I don’t know. But I can’t. And I won’t.”
She stood before he could muster up a further protest and turned back to Sollux. “We can go now.”
Once more he held out his arm for her, and once more she stepped into his hold, wiping the tears from her face with a sleeve.
“Feel better, Tavros!”
“I’ll be in touch with you when I make thome progreth.”
“Ok, ah. Hmm. Goodbye. Then.”
There was a crackle of blue and a spattering of red, and they were off the ground again, heading back the way they came. Sollux knew the way now, and their conversation on the way back consisted of the tightness with which they held each other.
He delivered Aradia safely back to her hive, but before she would let him leave, she made him make her a promise.
“Talk to me tomorrow,” she said. “And the next day. And the day after that. And every day after that, until it happens. I don’t want there to be a day that goes by anymore that we don’t talk, or see each other.”
To this request he couldn’t say no. But to say yes was too hard, and to say goodbye was harder still, so he merely leaned down to kiss her gently on the forehead, and with a meaningful look that was lost behind his shades he rose up into the air and drifted away.
Aradia had little time to watch him go, she knew, but still she followed the shape of him as it shrank smaller and smaller into the distance before heading inside. She had a lot to do before sleep could be allowed to claim her.
It had been gradual at first, but ever since Aradia had begun speaking with Sollux about the voices they both heard, they had been gradually growing stronger in her own head as well, like a dream that, once acknowledged, came back night after night, each vision more detailed than the last. But when the shiny white head of that strange figure had appeared to her, they had grown exponentially worse, until it was sometimes difficult at times to parse what were her thoughts and what were their wishes.
Though at other times, those two were not so different.
At first, after speaking with Terezi, she thought that maybe the other was right and she should just leave this revenge business to her more skilled hands. After all, Terezi was usually right about things like this. Almost always.
Except, a voice reminded her, about Vriska in the first place.
And that had just opened the floodgates for others to speak, until she knew all about them and how they had died in the jaws of a monstrous lusus, fed to it by a monstrous troll girl. The more she listened, the angrier she got, and the easier it was to ignore Terezi’s advice.
Make her pay. Make her pay. Make her pay.
The spirits were more than willing to mobilize and haunt the girl who’d killed them, and for a while Aradia felt as if justice had been served.
But as she thought about it—about these devoured trolls, about Tavros—it still didn’t feel like quite enough.
EB: rose, you there?
TT: I'm a bit busy right now.
EB: it'll only be a second!
EB: i just wanted to know...
EB: what am i looking at right now?
TT: John, I can't see you or your surroundings when you're not at your house.
EB: well, i'm at the base of the cliff that leads up to my house actually!
EB: except there's all sorts of junk from my house here.
EB: like, waaaaaay more stuff than was even in my house to begin with!
EB: what gives?
TT: I can explain that.
TT: When I built up your house, I copied existing rooms as reference points.
TT: The furniture must have been copied as well.
TT: The imps have likely been throwing it all over the cliff, as they are wont to do.
EB: i get it.
EB: but isn't making all that extra stuff a waste of grist?
TT: We are no longer particularly bounded by build grist limits.
TT: Our current cache is likely already more than we will ever spend.
EB: i guess that's true...
EB: seems kinda unnecessary, though!
TT: Is that all you needed to know?
EB: i suppose.
tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering ectoBiologiest [EB] at ??:??
EB: Bye, T-
Jeez! When did Rose get such a bee in her bonnet? John shook his head and turned his attention back to the Land of Wind and Shade. There really was more stuff here than he knew what to do with; couches, beds and drawers all piled around the base of the cliff to form an enormous heap of furniture.
Furniture wasn't the only household object in attendance, though. There was a decidedly unpleasant quantity of harlequin statues scattered throughout the heap, and John's feelings of uneasiness were only accentuated by the fact that he knew he was being watched. He hadn't seen any imps yet, but he knew they were there. They were always there, and he could always tell when they were watching him.
He didn't feel like hunting them all down right now, so instead John being clambering over the fallen furniture. There was one section he wanted to investigate specifically, where the heap was significantly higher than anywhere else. The heap was stacked ten or fifteen meters high, there, and it seemed to have been arranged specifically, rather than just dropped on the pile the way the rest was.
The larger pile was actually a makeshift house or fortress, John noticed as he approached, with the furniture being used as building blocks. The structure actually looked fairly stable, for the components used. Who could have made such a thing here in the LoWaS? This was bizarre.
The surreality only increased as he got closer, as he realized that he could hear music coming from within the dwelling. He could also see the entrance now, an open door meticulously framed with lights.
Then John walked through the portal and into the building. All of his questions about the dwelling were answered, and yet he suddenly felt like he didn't know anything at all.
Hundreds of imps were scattered throughout the front room, which was apparently a bar. They lounged around tables, waving harlequin figurines or playing with decks of cards. an imp behind a counter at the back had an entire stock of toys and other items, and was passing them out to imps as they approached. Another imp in a pinstripe suit was banging out a tune on John's-
"My piano!" John blurted out. He had been so sure he would never see another one! This was grea- whoops. All activity in the bar stopped, and every single imp within turned to look at him. Perhaps shouting out wasn't such a great idea, under the circumstances.
A silence settled onto the room, and no one could seem to shake it. The imps weren't interested in getting beaten up by the Heir of Breath, nor could John particularly justify wiping out the den he was so obviously trespassing into. The stalemate lasted for a few minutes, until a voice sounded out from the back of the room. "You would be the Player, then? You arrived here awfully soon."
The standing imps all parted ways to make room for the source of the interruption, and a shale imp started strolling down the aisle of the bar toward John. The imp wore a very expensive suit, and its head was adorned with a monocle and top hat. A cane rested in its right hand, used for style rather than support. "Before we continue," it spoke again, "I would like your word that you will not slay any of the imps here during your visit."
"I, uh." John blinked. "Okay."
"Excellent!" The imp snapped his fingers, and three imps immediately snapped to attention and began dragging a table and two chairs to it. "My name is Wooster, and I am the King of the Heap. I must admit that I have been quite looking forward to our first meeting together. So, how may I avail you?"
"Uh," John said again. "Imps can talk?"
"Oh, certainly," Wooster said with a disgusted look on his face. "I'm not sure how we'd get anything done otherwise." He rapped on the table with his cane, and an imp obediently came to the table with a saucer on which rested two tea cups and a pot.
"What are you doing here, then? How did you fix my piano?" John asked as the serving imp poured a foul black substance out of the tea pot and into the two cups. "No thank you," he added as the second cup was nudged toward him.
"Suit yourself," Wooster said with a shrug, and he took a long sip from his own cup. "It's certainly an acquired taste, but it's the only decent drink to be found around these parts." He set the cup back on its saucer, and leaned forward. "And patching the piano back together was an easy affair, all told. Finding both halves was a bit of a hassle, but I know some decent handyimps. It's working like a charm now, I must say. Adds a lot to the place."
John scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "I was kind of hoping I could get it back at some point."
"Don't you worry about that. I've already got the code written down." Wooster pulled a small note from one of the folds of his suit, and passed it to John. It was covered in the same sludge that all shale imps tended to spatter everywhere, but he could still make out the code. Barely.
Still, if it would get him his piano back, it would all be worth it. "Thanks!"
"Glad to be of service," Wooster said jovially, but then his expression darkened. "As for what we're doing here... well, I suppose you could say we're just trying to make a decent living for ourselves."
"...I'm not sure I follow."
"The Incipisphere's a dangerous place for us underlings, and not just because of you and your friends! Our denizen would probably eat us himself, if he were to get the chance.
"Building the Heap was the first thing I did to make this a better place for us underlings. It took quite a bit of coaxing to convince my comrades to go through with it, and then quite a bit of time spent clearing out your house every time a new floor was added. I haven't touched anything important in the first two floors, mind you," Wooster added as John opened his mouth in protest. John shrugged and closed his mouth again, and Wooster continued. "Someday perhaps we will be able to make a decent city out of the scrap collected here so far. A safe haven for imps, nay, all underlings!" A cheer range out from the other imps in the room. John was still a bit startled by the noise, considering how long he had assumed the imps to be mute, but the attitude was infectious.
"Before we build our city, though," Wooster said as the cheering died down, "We must garner the good will of you and your comrades. Without it, all the empire building in the world would be worthless. You are, after all, far more powerful than everybody in this building combined, and this gap in power will only grow with time. If you agree to an alliance with us today, we may actually have a chance of surviving here in the Land of Wind and Shade."
John cocked an eyebrow. "So you're suggesting that your imps won't attack me or my friends, and we won't attack your imps?"
"Oh, much more than that! I've got contacts all over the Incipisphere, for one thing, not to mention some sway with the higher underlings. If you agree to this alliance, I can say with certainty that all imps, ogres, and salamanders, of all lands, will aid you."
"Wow, that sounds great! Uh, but how will I climb the echeladder?"
"Experience does not only come from combat, Player!" Wooster snapped his fingers again, and this time an entire group of imps all rushed into another room of the bar. "There are puzzles and riddles scattered throughout the Land of Wind and Shade that will aid you immensely, should you complete them." The imps returned to the room, hefting a very large object not entirely unlike a jigsaw puzzle piece, apparently made of some sort of blue metal. "As it happens, my comrades and I have already gleaned the solutions to many of these puzzles already. With our help, you will climb the echeladder much faster than if you commit to traveling alone."
"Well, gee..." John said bashfully. "This is all a bit sudden! But heck, you already got my piano back for me. I'll agree to it!"
Another cheer rang out from the imps, and the piano player began a lively tune. This time Wooster didn't even bother to wait until the noise had died down to continue speaking. "Delightful! You won't regret this, Player, I can promise that."
"Er, my name's John."
"Oh! John, yes. Please forgive my rudeness in not asking your name sooner. Now, I understand that you are a very busy man, and I have already wasted much of your precious time in our conversation. The sooner we all get back to work, the better! The first order of business, I believe, would be to inform your friends of the change. I have contacts in all the lands, and the sooner your friends can meet mine, the better! I'll give you their locations right now, and inform them that you're coming. Then we can really get this alliance underway!"
one of three
Last edited by Valter; 10-17-2010 at 11:40 AM.
Reason: Now presented in TECHNICOLOR
CJs for pages ... six through fifteen? Something like that. STOP WRITING SO MUCH YOU GUYS
As a general, technical note, don't forget that Microsoft Word autocapitalizes the first letter after a question mark or exclamation point. So, wrong-due-to-auto-correct: "Do you want Cheetos?" He asks. Right: "Do you want Cheetos?" he asks.
@PaulPower: It's the first time she's said those words, specifically those words, specifically the four letter one beginning with L and ending with E that isn't "like" - she uses that one a lot, although the lines may as well be double spaced they're so easy to read between. I just had an "aww"neurism. Your little glasses-snippet made me laugh too. ROSE, DAVE AND JADE, ALWAYS THE MOST HELPFUL.
@Tenebrais: Your agent scrap is cracktacular. fff to "you take off your robe and wizard hat." And I like that your vast glub fic takes into account the fact that the trolls are colonizing worlds -- i. e., there are non-troll worlds out there being saved.
Also your spritelogs are an excellent use of the limitations of flashfic!
to Tene and nV: Others have said what my issues with this fic were, but nV, your art is phenomenal as always, and the continuation of it worked much better than the first chapter. Plus, Tene, I think you write great John.
@VagabondRaiser: How did I not read your Ms. Paint/Jack Noir before? I loff it. I always enjoy it when Jack Noir calls people "dollface."
The Diary of Jade is particularly traumatic.
@nightmarechild: It's interesting to picture Lord English as a cocky, jackass teenager. I like your Snowman's priorities!
@kmsumrall: remnants had a pretty fascinating premise. I think it might've worked better had you picked one of the alt endings and worked towards it specifically, but that might just be my tastes -- I certainly enjoyed the creepster quality of remnant John having remnant trolls, personality-free, all around him.
I'm deeply curious as to why, in Alternian Heroes, the BlueS capitalize the last letter of their name.
@Valid: I don't know if you have any interest in continuing your fic, but I'm curious as to what such a definitive ending could have as its part two! *g*
@silrini: Your Karkat-Jade definitely had me loling. He just isn't equipped to deal with her constant facing.
@NateDude: Cool, a Portal crossover! With all the gamebreaking they do it was a necessary innovation.
@geeP: You're seriously one of my favorite writers on this thread, hands-down. Ever. Jegus. Past Nextian already commented on your Sollux fic, but if this was a memo, I would spend all of it handsflailing with her about how awesome it is, basically. I also participated in a readthrough of your Dave's Ironic Clusterfjournal on Vent a while back and yes, it is as funny out loud. OMFG, dude. GET SOME LEAVES!!
@JudgeDeadd: Something about your narrative style reminds me of Hussie's without being unnecessarily intrusive. I think I'd get more out of this if I'd played Minecraft, but it's pretty sweet all the same.
@KarneWarrior: You seem to have a tight grasp on Rose's characterization, which is boss.
Having trouble imagining the context for the white-king-and-Dave snippet, but can't deny it made me chuckle.
@Sushi Database: BLAH BLAH BLAH ZAZZERPAN STILL THE BEST. In other news, I got surprisingly choked up picturing Karkat, Success At Anything. A general of such raw will
@YubiShines: So you will bear a weapon from Derse's armory, knowing that you wear Prospit's colours and you are still in Prospit's service, and you will keep going. There's this trend in PM fic to make her inexpressibly hardcore. You bring this off beautifully. This all feels so gorgeously in character, and it's intermittently really, really funny, like:
It is when the helipad rumbles to life and ascends to the sky, taking you and your mail cart with it, that you think dispassionately, Okay, after this, nothing surprises me anymore.
Of course, you are immediately disproven when the terminal blows up.
@Altum, your Karkat♠Terezi fic made me ALMOST NOT REDSHIP THEM. How amazing is that? ♠ to you, good sir. Many and various. Poor Tavros.
@Shad: I love your take on Jack -- not quite mine, but maybe more nuanced. And Jack playing piano is always love.
@Cakepan: fff, oh, Karkat and Jack. This seems like a perfectly reasonably way to explain some of the stabbings being accidental.
@underlyingAugment: Man, I only hope the rift is that unthreatening. And conducive to makeouts.
@TheAngryBeard: Full of fury and crazed bloodlust, not to mention half a mutilated dinosaur, Yep, I LOLed. I like the immersiveness of the video game experience -- it seems consistent with a universe that produced Sburb. Never played Monster Hunter though! If that is even what it's called.
@Metaflare: do you still have the art that illustrated this fic? I remember it as being absolutely gorgeous. I kinda really like Empress Ishishi.
@VagabondRaiser: How did I not read your Ms. Paint/Jack Noir before? I loff it. I always enjoy it when Jack Noir calls people "dollface."
I... didn't write anything like that? I think? Sheeit, I can't even remember. I don't think I did though.
What's with everyone thinking I wrote everything? I MEAN I KNOW I POST A LOT BUT GEEZ. *overdramatic huff*
Holy SHEEZ I forgot I even wrote Placebo Effect! I went back to look for Diary of Jade and damn near tripped over it! Thank you for reminding me that exists.
The Diary of Jade is particularly traumatic.
Funfact: I was originally going to make it some sort of pseudo-lyric 'fic wherein lines from 'Diary of Jane' were inserted every few lines. Then I couldn't figure out how the hell I was going to pull that off without essentially completely rewriting it into something entirely different, so I scrapped that and just kept the name. I'ma go back and re-read that and be all depressed and stuff and use that as a driving force to make the next Flights of Fancy even more sappy-cute.
Last edited by VagabondRaiser; 10-17-2010 at 02:05 PM.
BLUH BLUH SPECULATIVE FICTION (and more felt stuff, who could have possibly guessed.) Sort of sad I guess?
Basic premise is that all of the Felt members had previous lives, but the longer they stay as the Felt, the harder it is to remember their past - relationships and all.
It's weird, being like this. We've got new names, and new powers. And man, all this green hurts my eyes. Not my favourite colour.
But you know, no matter what, we'll still be twins, so it's okay. We'll get along fine. And it sounds kind of cliche, but whatever this new job's got in store for us, me n' Felix - I mean, Fin - we can deal with it together.
It's getting kinda hard to remember stuff. Not day-to-day stuff, just the past...
I mean, I can't remember my friends' names. I can remember faces, but I can't even put names to 'em. It's weird.
Maybe this job has something to do with it?
I've started writing stuff down, so if I ever forget important things, I can just look back at it. I don't think Fin's doing too good in the memory department, though. Whenever I ask him stuff about what we did when we were kids, he just snaps at me.
Actually, I don't think he was ever this angry about things back home.
Some of the others are saying that they have trouble remembering stuff, and it's not just me.
I'm kinda worried about Fin, though. He's acting all weird, and he always snaps at me now. Before, I could calm him down a little bit, but now it's like he's just a completely different person.
I think I'll go talk to him some time.
"What do you want, Trace? M'busy."
"You're always busy," and he knows he sounds a little whiny here, but still. This is his twin. They've always made time for each other.
At least, up until now.
"Yeah, yeah, sure. What do you want?"
"...Just wanted to ask you something. Are you having problems with your memory?"
Fin snorts, flicking at Trace's hat. "No. That's a dumb question."
He's relieved, for a brief second, until he asks the second question.
"So, do you remember...?"
"Remember what? What we had for lunch last Thursday?"
"You know. When we were kids-"
"No idea what you're talking about."
"...What do you mean, Fin?!"
He's getting riled now. He's always been the more composed of the two of them, but this is just getting on his nerves. "If this is a joke, it's a pretty bad one-"
"Nope. I can't remember a damn thing."
Fin notices the expression on the other man's face, and shrugs apologetically.
"Sorry, Trace. Can't help you there."
Trace tries one last time, because he's desperate now, and he can't have forgotten this-
"You don't even remember we're twins...?"
"Huh. Are we?"
That's all the answer he needs, and after that, their relationship is never quite the same. Fin is, in fact, a completely different person altogether.
They are still friends, of course, but it's still strange to Trace, because once, he knew how to read his twin - every little habit or twitch or subtle expression. Now, Fin is a complete stranger, and they no longer get along like they used to.
Fin has gone forward into the future, while Trace is stuck in the past. It's an odd, awkward feeling. He's tried to put that behind him, but...
...occasionally, he remembers, and wishes he could turn back the clock, and have his brother back.
>You see a LINK.
>Upon clicking the LINK, you are redirected to a DEVIANTART ACCOUNT. What a STRANGE THING.
I find it funny that CJ has become a verb. Why do the BlueS have a capital S? You'd have to ask 4Dic Sat-Am productions.
I'm in boston, what? Look for another chapter of Live the Dream when I come back.
Almost forgot, everyone write good keep at it yo yo yo
“Oh fuck thith!” Sollux leaned back in his chair, drawing his eyes away from his screen. That voice was back. “I have thit to do, leave me alone!”
I’ll say you have “thit” to do, didn’t you promise your little girlfriend you’d talk to her every day until you killed her?
“Day’th not over, numnutth! And in cathe you were wondering I’m not going to not do it jutht becauthe you reminded me! Tho fuck off!”
Ooooooooh, thomeone’th grumpy today!
“Wow, real mature, imitating me like that. How old are you, two thweepth?”
“And the’th not…my girlfriend, you thaw to that!”
Hey, don’t blame your failures and complete lack of social skills on me Captor! I was just trying to help you, you’re the one who was too much of a wimp to go along with it!
“I didn’t go along with it becauthe I’ve had enough of you in my head! Now get ou—”
A deep grumble from above interrupted him, and it resounded in his head. “Thit! Not now!”
But the voice, at least for now, had fallen silent. Already agitated, Sollux stood up and stomped over to his apiculture networks to collect some honey. In his distress, his harvesting was sloppy, careless. He had a lot to do tonight; that help for Tavros wasn’t just going to design itself, and in order to uphold the promise he had made, he needed to contact Aradia before the lunar cycle was over. She had been eerily quiet all night. And now he had to feed his lusus. He’d never resented the responsibility more.
The grumble resounded again. Connected like this to him as she was, Vriska heard it, too, and it echoed hollowly within her psyche, mingling with the cries of the dead Aradia had sent after her. Some of that fear returned with the swell of noises and screams trapped within her head, but her tears had dried up when her concentration had shifted onto him. Gathering herself, she hung back, waiting, riding just behind his eyes—seeing what he saw. When he began collecting some yellow substance, she forced herself deeper into his mind to find out what it was, what it would do. He was too busy being frustrated and angry and upset to feel it, which was just perfect.
…Oh god, everything was just perfect.
Rather than calm down at Sollux’s approach as he ascended to the roof, the Bicyclops only seemed to grow more agitated, his grumbling gaining volume and weight, until Sollux was sure the vibrations would throw him from the roof if he’d been standing on it. His lusus raged at him, and he raged right back, shouting insults that half the time he’d find completely embarrassing. All the while, he stomped closer, brandishing the jar of honey like a weapon. “Thut the fuck up, you thtupid, mind-numbed wathte of thpace! All fucking night long it’th nothing but your fucking grumbling! Thomeday I’m jutht going to thtop feeding you, you utheleth piethe of thit, then you’ll thee what hunger feelth like—”
Oh yeah! Yeah! You just try and stop feeding that thing, see if you can handle the headache!
Sollux stopped. The voice sounded…angry. That was new.
Good thing you aren’t made of that honey shit, or maybe it would get so hungry it would try eating you!
The fury gathered in his head like storm clouds, roiling the more they grew in weight and darkness. It paralyzed him, a toxin, keeping him a foot or so away from his lusus. The Bicyclops kept raging, but in comparison to the maelstrom in his head, he barely noticed it.
God, you don’t have any idea how easy you have it do you Captor?! Maybe you should find out!
Sollux moved his hand, the one with the jar in it, closer to his mouth. There was something he was forgetting about this stuff, lost in the whirl of anger and voices and grumbling and shaking. Some sort of warning. But it probably didn’t matter. The urge to do this, to tilt the lip of the jar to his own mouth, was too strong.
The mind honey was a rich, viscous amber substance, and he found it agonizing the way it took so long to slip down the side of the jar. Crossing bifurcated eyes, he watched it slowly fall from the bottom of the jar towards him, until it slid out of his vision and into his mouth.
He had never tasted anything like it before. It was sweet, sickeningly so, and it burned in a way that was almost pleasant all the way down his protein chute. Even so, until then it was just like any other food.
Then it stopped obeying the laws of gravity and troll physiology alike. It turned, squirming wildly upwards past his mouth, and seemed to slam into his brain with a force not unlike that with which his lusus was stomping on the roof. And it buzzed, rattling him, stealing away any control of his consciousness he may have had left. His brain, his head, his entire body felt like it would never be still again. His lusus continued to grumble at him, but he took off into the night, as if the farther away from his hive he flew, the quieter the buzzing would get.
It never left him. There may have been words in his head, and they may have given him directions, but over the noise he didn’t hear them. He could only follow them subconsciously as they led him towards a place that may have been familiar, if he were in a position to recall anything at all.
When he got to a certain location, just outside the lawnring of some structure sitting squat in the distance surrounded by odd, irregularly-sized holes, he stopped, as ordered, and waited for further instructions. The buzzing was getting worse, straying to his eyes, and as he swayed back and forth in the air for the need of some sort of motion, he removed his shades. It was making his eyes itchy, but he was on orders not to relieve himself of that feeling yet. The wait was agonizing.
But it was a brief delay, nothing more. Eventually he was allowed to move on, and he floated forward again, towards that small structure. A figure had emerged from an opening in it and was staring up at him, transfixed. She smiled, then frowned, at the image of him suspended in the air above her, shades in one hand and empty jar in the other, with yellow smeared all over his mouth, but he could not make out any part of her clearly. The buzzing blurred his vision, energy beginning to stream uncontrollably from his eyes like tears.
“And what’s that?” she asked, nodding to the thick liquid leaking from his network.
Sollux’s lips twitched into a frown. “Mind honey. It’th what I feed my luthuth.”
She tilted her head at it curiously, then reached out as if to touch it. “What does it—”
“No!” He reached up and slapped her hand away urgently, then backed up a step when she turned a shocked face towards him. “You muthn’t.”
“You mean you haven’t ever…? Just a taste?”
“Not under any thircumthtantheth.”
He had refused to tell her why, or what would happen, or even if he himself knew, but that no longer mattered. Aradia felt as suspended as he looked, staring at her from up there, and if only he had willed her to move she could have obeyed. But he looked down at her with a blank, unrecognizing expression, and she was too terrified to budge.
Was this it…?
“Sollux…” she whispered, voice tangled up in her tight, petrified throat. Her mind made one last connection, a more instinctual understanding of the situation: Tavros and the cliff; the voices; Sollux’s avoidance; Vriska’s last message to her; Terezi’s warning.
Oh god, this was it.
The energy leaking from his eyes built in strength, too fast for her mind to process it, and before she could even think to dodge it was too late. He released it, red and blue light joining together in a brilliant beam, hitting her, tearing at her clothing, her hair and horns and flesh. It ripped her, pulling at skin and muscle and bone and lungs and other parts. It vaporized all that in an instant, until all that remained was a core of emotion, of anger and fury and retaliation, for the legs she had taken from Tavros and the free will she had taken from Sollux and the life she had taken from her.
And then that core, too, was gone. Was she angry? She couldn’t remember. She couldn’t even remember what that felt like. She was dead, but the voices assuaged her that that was supposed to happen, that that was all part of the plan all along. Everything was going according to plan, so why be angry? Exactly. Everything was fine, completely ok.
Very close by, she could hear a sound like an animal in pain, rising into a wordless cry as if it meant to pierce the very stars in the sky, all at once, but missed every one. She listened to it for a while, but it kept going, growing to a height of anguish and then lingering on forever, breathless and eternal.
She soon grew bored of it, and left for somewhere else.
gallowsCalibrator [GC] began trolling apocalypseArisen [AA]
GC: 4R4D14 H3Y
GC: 1 TOLD YOU 1 WOULD H4V3 1T 4LL F1GUR3D OUT 4ND 1 DO
GC: SO YOU DONT N33D TO WORRY 4BOUT 4 TH1NG >:]
apocalypseArisen’s [AA’S] computer was vaporized.
gallowsCalibrator [GC] began trolling twinArmageddons [TA]
GC: SOLLUX 1 N33D YOUR H3LP
GC: TH1S 1S SO NOT TH3 T1M3 TO B3 4LL MOODY 4ND S4D 4ND WH4TNOT!
GC: TH1S 1S URG3NT!!
GC: WH3R3 4R3 YOU?! >:O
twinArmageddons [TA] began trolling gallowsCalibrator [GC]
GC: TH3R3 YOU 4R3 >:[
GC: WH4T TOOK YOU SO LONG
TA: TZ ii ju2t diid 2omethiing awful.
GC: WH4T 4R3 YOU T4LK1NG 4BOUT
TA: ii ju2t kiilled aradiia.
TA: there wa2 thii2 voiice iin my head ii couldnt iignore.
TA: iit wa2nt liike the other one2 iit wa2 iin2ii2tant and iit conviinced me two eat the miind honey and go fiind her.
TA: ii had no control over iit.
TA: ii vaporiized her and her hiive and her lu2u2.
TA: everythiing2 gone.
TA: 2he2 gone TZ.
TA: ii dont know how thii2 happened ii couldnt 2top doiing what that voiice told me two do.
GC: 4LR1GHT LOOK SLOW DOWN
GC: CR4P >XO
GC: SOLLUX TH1S 1SNT YOUR F4ULT
TA: what the hell are you talkiing about of cour2e iit2 my fault!
TA: ii kiilled her!
GC: Y34H OK4Y YOU D1D BUT YOU D1DNT H4V3 4NY CONTROL OV3R YOURS3LF
GC: 1F 1M R1GHT
GC: 4ND 1M PR3TTY SUR3 1 4M
GC: VR1SK4 M1ND CONTROLL3D YOU 1NTO K1LL1NG H3R
GC: WH1CH 1S 4CTU4LLY K1ND OF MY F4ULT >:[
TA: what are you talkiing about?
TA: who2 vrii2ka?
GC: SH3 MUST H4V3 TR13D TROLL1NG YOU B3FOR3
TA: yeah 2he triied but 2he 2ounded liike a major tool two be honest.
GC: YOU H4V3 NO 1D34 >:[
GC: 4NYW4Y TH3 PO1NT 1S 1 G4V3 H3R YOUR TROLL14N H4NDL3
GC: WH1CH G4V3 H3R TH3 POW3R SH3 N33D3D TO K1LL 4R4D14
TA: why would you giive her my name?
GC: 1 W4S BL1ND
GC: SH3 S41D SH3 N33D3D 4 H4CK3R 4ND 1 TRUST3D H3R
GC: BUT 1M THROUGH W1TH H3R 4ND 4LL H3R L13S >:[
GC: 4ND 1TS T1M3 TO S3T H3R STR41GHT
GC: NOW 4R3 YOU GO1NG TO S1T TH3R3 4ND F33L SORRY FOR YOURS3LF OR 4R3 YOU GO1NG TO H3LP M3 G3T R3V3NG3?
TA: ii a22ume you have a plan?
GC: D4MN R1GHT 1 DO
TA: what ii2 iit?
GC: 1TS COMPL1C4T3D
GC: 4ND 1 DONT W4NT H3R G3TT1NG B4CK 4T YOU 1F SOM3TH1NG GO3S WRONG
GC: SO 1M GO1NG TO SP4R3 YOU TH3 D3T41LS
GC: 4LL YOU N33D TO KNOW 1S TH4T TH3R3S SOM3ON3 1 N33D TO G3T 1N CONT4CT W1TH
GC: C4N YOU TR4C3 H1S M3SS4G3S?
[COLOR="#a1a100"]TA: 2eriiou2ly that2 iit?
GC: 1 KNOW 1 KNOW 1TS 4 HUG3 W4ST3 OF YOUR T4L3NTS SORRY >:/
TA: iit2 fiine iit2 2omethiing for me two do ii gue22.
TA: two get back at her and ii gue22 repent for what ii diid.
TA: even iif ii couldnt control iit.
GC: TH4TS TH3 SP1R1T
GC: OK4Y 1LL HOOK YOU UP W1TH TH3 1NFORM4T1ON
GC: L3T M3 KNOW WH3N YOUR3 DON3 W1TH 1T
TA: iitll take two 2econd2 dont worry.
TA: but terezii.
TA: that ii.
TA: that aradiia2 dead do you thiink we can keep that a 2ecret between u2 for the tiime beiing?
GC: TH4T WONT L4ST LONG 4S 4 S3CR3T
GC: SH3S K1ND OF D34D >:/
TA: ii know.
TA: but iif que2tiion2 2tart beiing a2ked iit2 goiing two come down two beiing her agaiin2t me.
TA: who do you thiink ii2 goiing two be blamed for thii2?
GC: 1 COULD CONV1NC3 TH3M >:[
TA: ii dont want two have two deal wiith that.
TA: and you 2houldnt have two eiither.
TA: 2o can we ju2t keep thii2 between u2 for a2 long a2 we can?
GC: 1F TH4TS WH4T YOU W4NT
GC: WH4T3V3R G3TS YOU TO WORK ON TH1S F4ST3R
GC: NOW COM3 ON SOLLUX W3R3 ON 4 STR1CT V3NG34NC3 T1M3T4BL3 H3R3
TA: ok ok chill ju2t 2end me the iinfo.
GC: ON 1TS W4Y!
GC: 4ND SOLLUX?
GC: DONT WORRY
GC: TH1SLL T4K3 C4R3 OF H3R ONC3 4ND FOR 4LL
Part 5 is going to be long, and also I have some exams coming up I really should study for, so when I say I am going to leave you guys alone for a few days, this time I think I mean it :V Thanks to everyone who's been reading and commenting so far, it's been keeping me writing! I hope I don't have to leave you hanging for too long!
I am SO flushed for concrit. So flushed.
Last edited by chronicallyCrafty; 10-19-2010 at 02:59 PM.
Karne, you have ruined me for shipping forever. Also Rose/Karkat? GENIUS.
cC, that was every bit as heartbreaking as anticipated. Poor, poor Aradia. Everything's 0kay now. (Teensey concrit: That last convesation Sollux seemed pretty chill for, yanno, just having murdered his girlfriend in cold blood and everything. But if Tavros can calmy troll while broken in half at the bottom of a cliff, anything goes.)
I'm the same person here as I am on AO3 and Deviantart, and pretty much everywhere else. Check out my fics and arts and stuff!
cC, that was every bit as heartbreaking as anticipated. Poor, poor Aradia. Everything's 0kay now. (Teensey concrit: That last convesation Sollux seemed pretty chill for, yanno, just having murdered his girlfriend in cold blood and everything. But if Tavros can calmy troll while broken in half at the bottom of a cliff, anything goes.)
Yeah, you know, I was having a hard time setting up that log. On one hand, he DID just kill this girl he had feelings for, but on the other hand, I think it was clear pretty early on in the conversation that TZ wasn't gonna let him sit there and mope. I think it would have been an entirely different conversation had he been talking to someone else (Kanaya is the first to spring to mind). It did bother me, though, and since you picked up on it, too, maybe I'll pop back and change it if I can think of a better way to have it go and still have the intended outcome. Hm.
Anyway, wow, concrit, it's like my freakin birthday up in here :3 Thanks!!
Karne: haha, yeah that was pretty brilliant, and a nice send-up. Also, why do I get the feeling various people are going to be attempting to wave their hands through tables from now until the Rift?
CJ: Thanks! Although I'm not sure that line'll make it into Diamonds are Forever Year 3, since Rose hasn't said "like" that much to John in 1 and 2. But hey, Mistletoe and Wine can still exist as a standalone and as the basis for DaF3, right? What's one more alternate universe? Which leads nicely on to:
Rae: Thanks! Although technically part of the ending's already been spoiled by Mistletoe and Wine (But I'll be adding a bunch more).
-- vagabondRaiser [VR] began pestering NULL [NULL] at 11:41 --
: What the devil are you doing here?
VR: What do µou mean, what'm I doin' heRe? This is mµ computeR, numbnubs.
: Then why did you bother 'messaging' me? You can just as easily think out loud.
VR: Because I'm boRed and I'd RatheR Read µou Rantin' about µouR BIG DARK E<IL PLAN than heaR µouR bluh-beRin'.
: Do not mock me, boy.
VR: Psh, go spawn a HeRobRine RumoR oR somethin'.
VR: Get Magic Missile'd at.
VR: Whate<eR the hell µou do foR kicks when µou'Re not bitching at me oR chasin' pRettµ lights.
VR: I'<e seen pictuRes of TeRezi that weRe scaRieR than µou.
: You simply do not understand the truth.
: You've already given me the key to my success.
: You simply haven't realized it yet.
VR: Not suRe I follow.
VR: µou mean the fact that I didn't wRite µou down the tRash compactoR?
VR: OR is it that I'm allowin' µou to pull µouR little 'stealth manipulation' bullcockles?
: You've left a hole in your pitiable 'defense' large enough to drive a candy mecha through.
: A plot hole, if you will.
VR: Psh, if I got a boonbuck foR e<eRµ plot hole I e<eR left I'd be a fuckin' millionaiRe.
VR: None of 'em laRge enough foR µou to get thRough.
VR: Even if I DID foRget about the Rubµ, it'd come back up in the Re<isit.
VR: And I ha<en't e<en gotten to the imp µet outside of, what, two, thRee RefeRences?
VR: Theµ'd ha<e to be blind or skippin' e<eRµ otheR chapteR to be left behind bµ that.
VR: Especiallµ if I post this log, which I pRobablµ will.
: Admittedly so.
: You still forget the largest hole of all.
VR: µouR face?
: Your witticisms slay me, they truly do.
VR: Blah blah blah.
VR: I pesteRed µou to ask whµ the hell µou weRe e<en botheRin' with this if µou'Re so omnipotent and ahead of the cuR<e.
VR: Not to watch µou pontificate and stRoke µouR
: You really need to know why?
: Because I find your meddling entertaining.
: Because knowing that I have already won, I need nothing more than to grow bored.
VR: So µou'Re not Reallµ in it to 'Right the coRRuption', then?
VR: All that hoRseshit was just a line?
: Oh, no, no. I will be cleansing the universe of your kind, soon enough.
VR: News flash, small daRk and fReakµ, I'm the last of mµ kind.
VR: Race kinda got wiped out when I wound up plaµin' a game with mµself.
: No, no no.
: You misunderstand.
: Fan-writers, boy.
: Those of you who twist and pervert the realities built by creators.
VR: ...µou'Re shittin' me.
VR: This is one big anti-fanwoRk campaign?
VR: What the shit, aRe µou the RIAA oR somethin'?
: I am a triviality.
: Something that is played either for jokes or ignored completly.
: Ironic, really, that you, self-proclaimed master of 'overexuberant reacharound fanfiction', would provide the demise of your own kind.
VR: OK, A, I ne<eR pRoclaimed mµself masteR of a damn thin', sa<e foR 'masteR of mµ domain', and mµ 'domain' is a shittµ apaRtment floatin' in THE END OF FUCKING TIME.
VR: And two, fuck µou.
: Regardless, you've provided the ammunition necessary for my success.
: Perhaps you will figure out what it is, before I pull the trigger.
VR: Not to be cockµ, cockeR, but I think µou'Re foRgettin' that I cReated this paRticulaR fani<eRse µou'Re stuck in.
VR: I could wRite µou into a bitchbuRgeR in thRee lines. Two if I ignoRed continuitµ.
: Be that as it may, you did make me omnipotent and omnipresent.
: By creating this iteration of me, you granted me access to all realms.
VR: Ha<en't seen µouR omnipResent ass in anµ otheR fanfiction of late.
: Ah, but I believe I was indeed mentioned recently in another tale...
VR: Psh, a passin' RefeRence. Not e<en a sin'le line of 'chaRacteR'. µou'Re not e<en defined in anµ situation in it!
VR: "Oh, bµ the waµ, RemembeR[NULL]? µeah, he's theRe too. Movin' on!
: Do you really think I am that stupid?
: Other worlds are not so 'tolerant' of intrusions.
: I would not so willingly brute-force myself into them in such a way as to compromise my stealth.
: Unlike yourself.
VR: 'Neeh, neeh, I'm a pussµ that can't figuRe out when I'm outclassed, neeh,' that's all I heaR.
VR: Might as well Run aRound scReamin' 'BEEP BEEP MEOW' foR all the good µou'Re doin'.
VR: If µou'Re not paRt of the plot, µou can't pRoceed. I'm not an idiot. Whµ do µou think I'<e kept µou out of the plot?
: For someone who claims to pick over his own work for explotable references, you're missing a rather big point.
VR: Go on.
: You did write me into the plot.
VR: Not suRe I follow.
: Well, if I elaborated now, it'd give away the ending, now, wouldn't it?
: And I know how you LOVE to spoil the surprise.
VR: I think µou'Re bluffin'.
: Think what you like, Intern, but you will never be a Creator.
: You are doomed to remake and emulate despite your desire to create.
: Do you really think your 'readers' will put up with your shenanigans much longer?
: Every story ends eventually. Even one cobbled together by someone who has no idea how to create.
VR: WRongo bongo, mµ little fRiend.
VR: I'<e cReated a whole elaboRate scenaRio foR µou to exist in.
VR: I cReated µou, and I cReated the little inspiRed off-shoots that µou'Re stuck in.
VR: Most of all, though, I cReated a failsafe foR shit like this.
: And how do you plan to activate this failsafe if you're elbow-deep in sappy love triangle writing?
: Good show taking a vaguely inspired result from someone else's fanart and finding a way to crowbar it into your ruinously overwrought continuity, by the way.
VR: I just won't wRite µouR stoRµ.
: You think that'll stop me?
VR: ConsideRin' the unfinished plot outline I dRew up?
: You think that'll stopme?
VR: µou'Re Repeatin' µouRself.
: I know that.
: Answer the damn question.
VR: Lookin' a mite bit snug in µouR pan, theRe, shoRtµ.
: An outline has no bearing on me!
VR: It does when it's stopped at the point wheRe µou'Re in<ol<ed in the o<eR-aRc and µou'Re not slotted foR inclusion in anµ of mµ stoRies for at least three chapters each.
VR: And that's just in the ones µou'Re actuallµ a chaRacteR in!
VR: Hoi. Inside font, µo. µou'Re tRapped inside mµ fanon, µou can at least be ci<il.
VR: And besides that, I'<e alReadµ come up with a counteRplan in<ol<in' a not-Reallµ-a-plot-hole fRom the last time I went all cRackfic on this shit.
VR: µou'Re stuck in this Rut, bRotheR.
: YOU LIE
VR: Annnnnnd beRseRk Rage, Right on schedule.
: THERE'S NO WAY
VR: It's funnµ how easilµ manipulated µou aRe.
VR: Might as well be wa<in' a neon sign saµin' "FIST FULLA STUPID, HEAD FULLA EMPTµ, OUTTA THE GODDAMN WAµ!"
VR: Must be haRd to tµpe all Ragefaced like that, eh? Goin' back and fixin' µouR eRRoRs? Can't be postin' like some 'unci<ilized goon', now, can we?
: SILENCE, WHELP
: YOU CAN'T
VR: I'm tiRed, so I'ma plot-block µou now.
: BEGIN TO UNDERSTAND
VR: DiRect workflow! [LIKE A BAWSS]
VR: Block bitches! [LIKE A BAWSS]
VR: Hit on DeboRah! [LIKE A BAWSS]
: GOD DAMN YOU STOP THIS RIGHT NOW
VR: Get Rejected! [LIKE A BAWSS] -- vagabondRaiser [VR] blocked NULL [NULL] at 0:07 --
: I WILL EVISCERATE YOU! YOU WILL RUE THE DAY YOU WROTE ME INTO BEING! I WILL NOT BE STOPPED BY A GODDAMNED GARY-STU! I WILL NOT BE UNDERESTIMATED! I WILL
Strange? hard to read? Imagine what it was like to format the damn thing. Also going back through, elaborating, checking for errors or accidental giveaways... fanfiction is hard work! (Case in point: I just had to fix a format mistake I missed.)
Not to mention since I changed my mind halfway through this I had to correct for logical fallacies... (and by 'halfway through' I mean 'after I already did the original up in a one-on-one via two open Pesterchum clients and a dummy account, thus meaning the rest of VR's lines had to be hand-quirked, as opposed to the automatic quirkification from Pesterchum'.) It's a good thing I left multiple options for myself ahead of time! Yes! HA! HA! Entirely as planned! HA! H--yeah, I'll stop now.
No idea what the hell's going on? (Psh, like I even know anymore?)
No big deal!
Reading this isn't integral to the enjoyment of my 'fics (I hope), it's just elaboration on the sub-main-back-arc-over-plot. I'm having too much fun with this game of plot-and-mouse. I suppose someone out there might find this fun to read, though.
Assuming there's someone out there like me who's as fond of conceptually picking through a haystack to find a needle, only instead of a needle, it's a brick of C4, and instead of a haystack, it's a pile of TNT, and I'm standing over it with a lit propane torch strapped to my head waiting for it all to blow up in my face. And the award for most inane, off-track and pointless euphemism goes TO...
E: AUGH DAMMIT I KNEW I MISSED ANOTHER LETTER. (Thanks Rae.)
Last edited by VagabondRaiser; 10-18-2010 at 11:26 AM.
Reason: Ugh, formatting.
With the rugby season over, you give baseball a go. It's fun - swinging a baseball bat's easy after all that hammer practice - but somehow it's not quite the same. You seem to be on your own a lot more in baseball, whether batting or fielding, and you'd rather be back on the rugby pitch, as part of a team. Still, there's the holidays to look forward to, and as they approach you and Rose find yourselves testing each other on Spanish a lot. You hope you're going to be ready in time...
30th July, 2011
The four of you are in a cafe in Santander - Dave and Jade would rather be visiting Spain's south coast, but you and Rose agree that it's a bit too hot there right now - and you're the two who speak the language, so you get to call the shots. North coast it is - Dave and Jade will get their turn when you visit Japan. Besides, it's still lovely and warm, and there's plenty to see and do. There's also the advantage of fewer tourists.
You've just finished giving an order in what you hope is acceptable Spanish. As the waiter walks away, you turn to Rose. "How did I do?"
"Ocho de diez. You got some of your tenses wrong: you said "I like a strawberry milkshake" rather than "I would like a strawberry milkshake", for example. I think he understood though, even if he does think you're a bit strange."
"Well hey, he'd be right," quips Dave.
"Hehe, whoops," you say. "But hey, no-one's perfect - it sounded like you slipped into Italian when you were asking that lady for directions."
Rose blushes slightly and smiles her three-quarter smile (exchange rate: one grin), "You noticed, then. Yes, it's easy to get mixed up between them. On the plus side, the languages are similar enough that she understood me anyway, even if..."
"... she thinks you're a bit strange," you finish for her.
"Well hey, she'd be right," says Dave, jumping on the punchline.
"Hey, look, the waiter's coming back," Jade points out, giggling.
You sigh with relief as it turns out the waiter understood your order. You'll have to remember to give him a good tip, as a combined sorry/thanks gesture.
"I like an apple juice," says Dave as he takes his drink, one arm round the still-giggling Jade.
September - November 2011
Snowman and a few other senior players have left for college, so Crowbar has taken over the captaincy. And, in a move that's surprised a lot of people, not least yourself, he's made you vice-captain. "Well, we are the ambassadors," he says to you with a wink. The most shocking part is, that means you'll probably become captain when he goes on to college. Oh well. You're used to being an Heir.
Rose and Dave also start turning up to more games, although they can't always make it and sometimes only one of them can come along. After a while you begin to notice a correlation between games where Rose shows up and games where you score tries. You haven't mentioned it to her yet, though. Ten games isn't exactly a large sample size, after all.
Meanwhile, Rose tells you that she's gone back to knitting. It's been a while - some of her experiences with the Thorns of Oglogoth back during the game had put her off for a while. But she's got something special planned for what you'll probably always think of as "the birthday season". Besides, she says, that knitting kit was a present from you. There was no way she could neglect it forever.
1st December, 2011
Once more it's that time of year again, as Jade turns sweet sixteen, with Dave and Rose soon to follow. And once more you find the three of you taking the Space Bass to the east coast, arriving in Dave's room. Dave gives Jade a birthday kiss, Rose hugs you and Dad and Mom go through that ridiculous kiss-on-both-cheeks routine that you're used to seeing my now. You still wonder why they haven't tied the knot yet. It's been two and a half years, and even you can see how obvious it is they love each other. But they seem to be waiting for something...
Ten minutes later, Jade's unwrapping her present from Rose - a pale green hand-knitted sweater with a blue atom symbol on it. So this is what she's been working on. It's really well done, and you're about to congratulate Rose on her craftsmanship, but before your eyes the atom changes to a sun.
Rose smiles shyly at you. "I know you said I should destroy the Thorns after we'd finished the game - and I did, because frankly you're right, those things were not doing my sanity any good - but you never said anything about the Needlewands." She turns back to Jade. "There's a little panel on the inside of the left sleeve - you can set it to a certain pattern for when you don't want people's brains exploding because your sweater just changed its design. Or, on special occasions like today, you can set it to randomise."
Jade's speechless, so on her behalf you tell Rose that it's brilliant and she's brilliant. She blushes harder than you've ever seen her blush before.
4th December, 2011
The next three days come and go, and it turns out that Rose has special sweaters not just for Dave, but for you as well, even though it's nowhere near your birthday. "I didn't want you to feel left out," she says. You look through the designs on your sweater - the Green Slime Ghost, obviously, but also a proper Slimer, that little "Heir of Breath" wind symbol, a computer, a wizard's hat, a rugby ball and goalposts, and a bunny - to name just a few. The attention to detail is amazing. Dave's sweater designs come in both whole and broken record varieties, a katana, some cool dude in a kickass martial arts pose, a smuppet ("for ironic purposes - there's an extra setting where you can take it out of the randomiser") and so on.
And now it's her turn. That evening, the four of you sit down to dinner with your parents, Rose in an elegant lilac evening gown, Dave, Jade and you in the sweaters she's made. You can't help but grin at the contrast. Dinner goes fine, but at the end of it Rose tells you that she needs to go and freshen up. She seems fresh enough to you already, but oh well.
Half an hour later, Rose still hasn't come down. The other three of you are watching a cheesy film - your continuing campaign to get Jade educated on these matters, although she isn't paying much attention. She's too busy being curled up on the sofa with Dave. To compound things, she's found a piece of mistletoe from somewhere - well, the shops seem to think it's Christmas already - and she's teasing him with it. You feel like the only person who cares what happens to Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore.
You hear a door shut upstairs, and turn around. Rose is about to start descending the stairs, but you immediately sense that something's not quite right with her. Her pale blonde hair, normally kept under strict control by her hairband, has come loose. Actually, you like the way it frames her face, and the dreamy smile works too, but the fact her gown isn't on straight any more, and the way she's swaying, tell you enough. Suddenly even you don't care about Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore. After all, you've been warned about stairs.
Dave and Jade are still a bit tangled, so you're first up out of your chair, bounding up the stairs and putting an arm round Rose to steady her. As you guide her down, they vacate the sofa and you gently get her to lie down on it. She's always told you that words have power, and as she stares up at you she giggles four words that change the world: "I love you, John."
It's the first time she's said those words, specifically those words, specifically the four letter one beginning with L and ending with E that isn't "like" - she's used that one a lot for her moirail. And a lot of things make more sense now... or do they? Does this count? She isn't herself right now, after all. Still, you murmur that you love her too - because ultimately, it's true - as you stroke a few loose hairs away from her seer grey eyes. There's a difference in those eyes right now - usually they're the grey of steel, the penetrating gaze that can look right through you, but never worrying you because she says you've got nothing to be ashamed of. But right now it's the grey of an autumn mist: still appropriately seer-like, but off-kilter for someone so... focused. Not for the first time, you find yourself losing your train of thought in those eyes.
But although the steel is now a mist, Rose is still looking through you. Or rather, past you, that dreamy smile still on her face. You turn to see what she's looking at: it's Jade, standing over the pair of you, mistletoe in her hand, well-meaning mischief in her eyes, Dave scolding her in the background. She's your sister, but she's still a Witch: she organises people's lives for them, in what you can only hope is a good way. Suddenly you get the feeling that this is the moment she's been hoping for for over two years. But is it the moment? Something isn't right with Rose, which means you aren't comfortable.
But it's too late, Rose has pulled you down and has started kissing you. On the one hand, there's no-one else you'd rather have kissing you, but on the other... this isn't like her. Which not only is a cause for concern, but it also crashes the mood. Eventually you manage to pull yourself away, although the dismay on Rose's face makes you go back and hug her, harder than you've ever hugged her before, telling her that you're sorry, and you do love her, you just don't want it to happen this way. She's too important to you for it to happen this way.
At that moment, all hell breaks loose: Rose's mom comes down the stairs, holding an empty wine bottle, distraught with herself. Seems that Mom had had a glass before dinner to steady her nerves, and left the open bottle on her bedside table. Rose had found it, and... well, happy birthday. Mom is wailing about how bad of a mother she is, and Dave's doing her best to reassure her, while still arguing with Jade about the dumpass stunt she just pulled, and now Dad's getting involved, asking what it is you're doing with Rose. And through it all, you're still hugging her.
5th December, 2011
What with the recent semi-emergency, it's been decided that you, Dad and Jade stay another night. You can't sleep, though: you spend the night wondering what it was that drove Rose to drink that wine. Stressing out over too many hobbies, too many clubs and societies? Birthday treat gone wrong? Some sort of defiant passive-aggressive jibe at her mother, even though they're getting on much better these days? Some deeper problem that she wouldn't even tell her moirail about? And then... well, she said that she loves you. You feel like you should be happy. But was it her talking, or the drink? You don't know, but you don't know if you can bring yourself to ask either.
In the pre-dawn hush, you give up on sleeping and decide to head downstairs to make some coffee. Somehow you aren't surprised to bump into Rose on the landing.
"Hi, John," she says, with something of a grimace. "Can't you sleep?"
"Nor can I. I'm still fighting off this hangover."
"I was just going to make some coffee. Want some?"
"I'd love some."
The pair of you make your way down to the kitchen. No-one else is up yet, just you and Rose and the coffee pot. You hand her mug to her, and you're just turning round to clear up when Rose says, softly, "John..." You turn back and she's smiling, a more composed smile than last night. "Sit down, please." She indicates the chair next to her. You sit, both clasping your mugs for the protection they offer against the chill morning air.
"John, I made you deeply uncomfortable yesterday, and for that I apologise..."
"Don't worry about it. It was your birthday, loads of people gets a little carried away..."
"I haven't finished yet. I apologise, but there's something I need to tell you. I think you've got the situation the wrong way around."
"Yes, John. I didn't tell you that I love you because I'd drunk all that wine... I drunk all that wine because I wanted to tell you that I love you. Dutch courage," she says, smiling sheepishly. "I guess it didn't quite have the desired effect. Although it did at least bring this out into the open."
Your brain stands back to admire the jigsaw as the final pieces slot into place. "Um, Rose, if you don't mind me asking... how long have you felt like this?"
"Since the game. The help you gave me, at the times when I thought all was lost and that all I could do was rage against the dying of the light. The reminders that I'm a better person than I think I am. Even after what I did to Nannasprite, even when I was cold with you... you forgave me, and supported me, and kept on being you."
"So... so all the time we were moirails, then..."
"... yes. It wasn't exactly easy, being in a moirallegiance with you when I wanted something more... hah... flushed. But... it was the next best thing, and it made you happy, and funnily enough it made me happy, too. Even if it wasn't exactly love, it was all the bits of love that are really important. Kissing and so on would just be a bonus. But I had to get it off my chest eventually."
You can feel the tears welling up. "I've been such an idiot... I mean, Crowbar guessed as much about how you really felt about me. But I wanted to wait, and look where that's led. I thought it might be overwork or something to do with your mother... but it was me that led you to drinking that wine tonight."
"John, John, it's okay, there's no permanent damage done. I understand. You didn't think you were ready."
"I don't even know if I'm ready now."
She looks at you appraisingly. "Would you like my amateur opinion as a psychoanalyst?"
"Your primary concern is that if you did something wrong, it would destroy our friendship, which you feel is too important to lose. You're also worried that, you being you, you would do something wrong."
"... yeah, I guess."
"Well, don't worry about it, for three reasons. One, everyone does the wrong thing somtimes. Two, I accept that your bluntness is all part of the John Egbert "loveable goof" package. It balances out because I know there's never any malice to it. So if you did do something wrong, forgiveness would never be far away."
"Yeah... yeah I guess that's true. I guess I'd be the same with you."
Rose smiles, "Thank you. In fact, I suspect that you might be busier than me when it comes to forgiveness. I can be... awkward at times. Which brings me on to point three: you've come a long way from where you were when you were twelve. You handled my drunken state last night with tact, concern and loving care, and you showed a commendable maturity in not trying to take advantage of me. Whether it was moirallegiance, or friendship, or love, it doesn't matter: you're ready."
[... that's the most mature attitude I've ever seen from someone your age...]
"Could I have been ready earlier though?"
"Probably. But I think it's been for the best. Even if I did get a hangover out of it," she says, grimacing. "That reminds me, I should probably try saying this again, now I'm... mostly sober: I love you, John."
What else is there to say? "I love you too, Rose."
Instinctively you both look up at the ceiling. No mistletoe. You laugh, clink your coffee mugs, and kiss anyway. It's a quick kiss - not as long as the ones from yesterday - but it seems longer.
"We don't need mistletoe and wine," you say, as always unable to resist the corny reference. "Even I know Cliff Richard's a terrible singer." Rose's smile this time isn't just the little three-quarters-smile that's worth a full-blown cheesy grin from anyone else, but a full-blown cheesy grin in itself. It'd be a perfect image to end on, but another thought's struck you.
"We can still be moirails as well, right?"
"I don't see why not. We're not Trolls, we're just... borrowing their nomenclature. Love and moirallegiance don't have to be mutually exclusive."
"That's good. Because you know what they say," you say as you find yourself on a punning roll, "diamonds are forever."
10th December, 2011
Rose is watching as you run in a hat-trick of tries against today's opponents.
"Congratulations, Eggs!" yells Crowbar over the noise as he hauls you up off the turf after the third try. The pair of you glance up at Rose's section of the crowd. "In more ways than one," he adds, as you and Rose exchange heart symbols.
14th February, 2012
TT: Hi John.
EB: hey rose!
TT: Get any cards?
EB: you mean like the big purple one you gave to me while i was visiting earlier this afternoon? ;)
EB: nice poem, by the way.
EB: not sure i understand about a third of the words, though, but the two-thirds i do get are really great!
TT: Orwell never said anything about good poetry being like a window pane.
EB: hehe i guess.
TT: I can translate for you, if you like.
TT: For example, most of the references to Great Old Ones boil down to "until the end of the universe".
EB: aww, how sweet :p
EB: maybe i should write a poem in ~ATH.
TT: Go for it. It would certainly be an interesting experiment.
TT: Probably best not to compile it, though.
EB: yeah, wouldn't want to risk anything going wrong.
TT: On the subject of thank yous, thanks again for the... hah... roses.
TT: And the uh... Roses chocolates?
TT: Can't say I've heard of that brand.
EB: yeah i had to get jade to teleport me to london for that one.
EB: i'll admit i could have got more upmarket chocolates, sorry, but i was kind of on a name-punning roll by that point.
EB: that's also why i got you a replica england rugby shirt while i was in london, because their emblem's...
TT: ... the Red Rose, yes, I get it, John.
TT: And don't worry about the chocolates, they're perfectly delicious and the gesture's wonderful.
EB: <> <3
TT: <> <3
EB: the only thing is, i wish dave and jade would make up.
TT: Yes. You can cut the irony with a knife, there.
EB: i mean it's been over two months now.
TT: He was pretty apopleptic with the way she used that mistletoe on us.
TT: And it's rather escalated from there.
EB: i know!
EB: it's been really weird having to persuade jade every time i want to come see you.
TT: Even though we're essentially the project she's been working on for the last three years?
EB: well you've noticed we tend to arrive down in the living room these days rather than dave's room.
TT: True, true.
TT: Perhaps it's their turn to be our project?
EB: oh no, i'm not risking ruining what we've got here by dangling mistletoe in their faces.
TT: Haha. I'm sure I could find it in my heart to forgive you.
TT: But I wouldn't ask you to do anything as crass as that.
TT: It'd just be nice to get them talking again.
EB: anyway, did you hear about your mom and my dad finally getting engaged?
TT: Yes. Mother explained it to me as "wanting to wait until we wouldn't end up thinking of each other as brother and sister".
EB: no chance of that now!
TT: No indeed.
EB: isn't it like arranged for the day after my birthday or something?
TT: Yes, Saturday 14th.
TT: Anyway, I'd better have another go at talking to Dave about Jade.
EB: yeah, I should pester him about it too.
TT: Perhaps we should do it together.
TT: A two-pronged attack.
EB: sounds like a plan!
EB: hey dave!
TG: howre things between you and rose
EB: great! we were talking to each other just now.
TG: yeah sounds like it
TG: she cant stop talking about you you know
TG: getting pretty annoying actually
TG: at least jade and i had the decency to keep ourselves to ourselves
EB: hehe, sorry.
EB: actually it was you and jade i wanted to talk about.
TG: oh man weve been through this
TG: my sister makes a drunken confession of love to my best friend
TG: and then while i'm still reeling from that
TG: that witch decides that clearly the best way to resolve this is to add some fucking mistletoe to the equation
EB: ok it was kinda dumb, but she meant well!
TG: easy for you to say
TG: it worked out all right for you
EB: well exactly! all's well that ends well, right?
EB: besides, don't forget that "that witch" is MY sister!
TG: you want to defend her honour or something
EB: well, i'd rather it didn't come to that, but if i have to, then yes.
TG: youre kidding me
TG: youre the movie expert egbert you tell me what happens when the jock challenges the kid with a black belt in karate
EB: well... um...
TG: wait hold that thought rose is reading over my shoulder again
TG: "My strength is the strength of ten, because my heart is pure" - Sir Gallahad.
TG: Just thought I'd remind you boys that movies aren't the only way to tell a story.
EB: hehe, thanks rose.
TG: Any time, John <> <3
TG: wait the <3s bad enough
TG: but youre still using that retarded troll diamond symbol as well?
TG: Careful, Dave...
TG: all right all right i know when im being ganged up on
EB: look, dave, could you just talk to her?
EB: we're not saying you have to get back together or anything.
TG: figures you two would play good cop bad cop over this
TG: ok fine i guess two months is long enough
EB: woo! i'll go get jade!
"Hi John!" says Jade with a smile as you enter her room. Valentine's cards cover every available flat surface: she's received more than ever this year. It looks like potential suitors have been encouraged by the feud with Dave.
"Hey Jade," you reply. "Um... Dave wants to talk to you."
The smile vanishes. "Oh he does, does he? It's about -" then a pause as she bites the swearword back, "- time".
You decide not to mention that he only wants to talk because of a display of arm-twisting that'd make her grandfather proud. "Jade, I know you meant well, and I know it worked out okay for me and Rose, but it really did upset him."
"We've been through this. There's no reason for him to still be so nasty about it after all this time."
"Did you ever actually apologise?"
"Is it really that serious?"
"Can you just get on Pesterchum or something? Please? I'm not saying you have to get back together or anything, it'd just be nice if you talked to each other again."
"... okay. Although it's just as well we don't have to get back together yet... I'm not letting all these cards go to waste."
"... huh. O... kay. Anyone in particular you thinking of saying "yes" to?"
"Well, I thought I'd go with the one I thought you'd mind the least. Craig Barrowman."
Craig Barrowman? You don't know a... "Oh. Crowbar."
"That's all right, isn't it? I mean, you like him, don't you?"
"Well... yeah, you're right, I do. No objections, I guess. It's just that he's older that you. I mean, he'll be going to college before you know it."
"That's not such a bad thing. Maybe Dave will be ready for me again by then. And in the meantime, if it makes him jealous, then... well, that's a good thing, right?"
You blink a few times as she logs into Pesterchum. It still gets to you just how calculating your sister can be sometimes. Was that the "popular girl" stuff rubbing off on her, or had she really always been like this?
TG: sorry for being such an asshole about the mistletoe
GG: thats okay....
GG: sorry for being so stubborn and not realising how much it upset you....
TG: no prob
You touch Jade's shoulder warningly as her hands hover over the < and 3 keys. "Too soon. Especially with Crowbar in the frame."
TG: i have no idea what thats supposed to mean
TG: oh well whatever c3- i guess
TG: rose says its a start
TT: From one form of troll romance to another, says Rose after you return to your room.
EB: hehe, yeah, funny old world.
TT: How does it feel to be a mediator?
TT: Although I suppose we're sharing mediating duties in a way.
TT: Wonder what Karkat and Kanaya would think of such a brazen display of mediator infidelity. Oh well.
TT: Think I'll get an early night, it's been a busy day.
TT: Good night, my love.
EB: sweet dreams!
EB: <> <3
TT: <> <3
14th April, 2012
Your parents' wedding is a little bit of an odd one in terms of the cast: you're best man (you check your pocket for the umpteenth time. Yep, still got the rings...), Dave's giving away the bride. At least Rose and Jade make sense as bridesmaids. Although when it comes to throwing the bouquet, there's no attempt at a contest: Jade puts her cheerleading skills into practice to lift Rose into the air, who gracefully catches the flowers.
"Good catch," says Dad, giving you what you think is supposed to be a conspiratorial nudge, before heading off with Mom towards their "Just Married" car.
"Those two could probably teach our team a thing or two about line-outs," observes Crowbar, before going off to talk with Jade.
"That was amazing," you say as Rose bounds over with the bouquet and gives you a kiss. "Although this doesn't mean you have to get married like, really soon or anything - right?"
"Ha! No, we're still far too young for that. I think it just implies I marry before -" kiss "- before Jade does. Until then, I guess we just -" kiss "- enjoy the ride..."
"Can I break you two lovebirds up a minute?" asks Dave impatiently.
"Sorry, Dave," you say, meaning it in more ways than one.
"Are you all right, Dave?" Rose asks.
"Do you really need to ask?" he answers, glancing over at Jade and Crowbar.
You lay a hand on his shoulder. "Look, man... Jade said something to me about all this. When Crowbar goes off to college, if you're still ready for her, then..."
"Thinks I should be at her beck and call, does she?"
"Dave!" snaps Rose. "You mean more to each other than that, and you both know it."
"All right, all right. I don't know. I'll think about it."
"Come and have a hug bunp," you say, letting go of Rose for a minute.
"Oh, go on then..." says Dave, "Let's do this thing."
"We're doing it, man. We're making this happen!" you say, as the two of you hug.
"We'll look after him," says Rose, taking your arm again as Dave wanders off. "Don't be sad. It's a trite statement, but this is supposed to be a happy occasion."
"Yeah," you say, turning back to the person who never has to do much to make you happy, with her seer grey eyes and three-quarters smile that's worth a big cheesy grin from anyone else.
British Rail apologises for the sad ending for Dave. But it was deliberate (as well as the secret third purpose of Crowbar): I had the idea of setting things up in a way that might lead into the kind of "Dave's point of view" scenario covered in we drive by braille or PTSD - although more a general case of it rather than any specific story. So Dave and Jade will get back together again somehow. I won't write it though, because a) practically everyone's better than me at writing Dave and b) this time I'm serious about taking a break from fanfic. Finishing this off was the proverbial "one last job". It's been fun, but it's time to take a step back and just go back to reading the comic for a bit. I'll still come back here to read stuff and leave comments, though, and I'll edit up the stuff I've already written, too.
This fanfic stemmed from a role-play I started that progressed for eleven pages before dying its natural death. By that time, however, I'd had some ideas that I thought were really interesting, and I was a bit frustrated that I couldn't use them anymore. So, I decided to write this, rather loosely based on that roleplay.
Parasite World, part 1
It was morning, and a Saturday, the day that normally a sane human being would desire to sleep in as late as their sense of propriety would allow. Lucky bastards.
I was already awake, although not specificity by choice. The sheets of my bed were crumpled from a night's tossing and turning, and I'd given up on any further attempt at sleep.
A full cup of weak coffee, my forth, sat by my elbow. A sketchbook sat before me, glaring white eyes staring out at me. The proportions were wrong. I couldn't draw the hands correctly, again. Ordinarily it would be too early for any of my friends to be online, but time zones were amazing things. I glanced over Pesterchum for a minute, but no one was there.
No one solicited anyway. A window popped up unprompted. I muttered darkly, and watched the text roll by.
turbineIdol begins trolling distainfulCatalyst.
TI: You ^re fucking miser^ble.
TI: You don't deserve to fucking exist.
DC: It's way too early in the morning for this shit...
TI: Even Sgrub thinks you're miser^ble. You should never h^ve even been ^ble to pl^y.
DC: I'm sure somewhere in and around the point of being insulted is at least having enough context to know what the heck I'm being insulted about. Right now, you're just sort of confusing me.
TI: ^lright then, let me put it in sm^ll words for you, so you can understand it. You fucking suck.
DC: Yeah, I know.
TI: No you don't. The extent to which you suck goes beyond ^nything you can hope to ^ppreci^te. You are worthless. You are p^thetic. I don't know what p^r^dox sp^ce was thinking when it decided you should h^ve this sort of honor pl^ced upon you.
DC: Okay, I get the worthless and pathetic part, but I'm not really getting the thing about 'honour'.
TI: You'll find out. ^nd m^ke no mist^ke, I'll be there to remind you every step of the fucking w^y of just how worthless you ^re.
TI: By the w^y, your ^pology is not ^ccepted. It never will be.
turbineIdol ceased trolling distainfulCatalyst.
I looked at my computer monitor, shrugged, and sipped at my coffee. It was too weak. My Dad cut the beans 50/50 with decaf, and our coffee machine was a used factory reject.
It was still the elixir of the gods.
What exactly was that all about anyway? Did this 'turbineIdol' know me? He, or she, obviously knew me, but we'd never met. At least not to my knowledge.
Probably nothing. Just another internet troll.
Whatever. I didn't really care. It was lightening up outside now, and I looked out my window. The sky was grey, and it threatened to rain. I wondered briefly whether I should go for a jog. Sometimes the fatigue from exercising managed to put me in a sort of trance after I returned, which was better then nothing, sleep-wise.
I looked at my drawing. The only part of it that I liked was the subject matter, and it taunted me.
I walked out to the hallway to grab my running shoes.
I stared at my monitor, trembling in fury. It was the first conversation we'd had, from his perspective, and for me it was my second. The first one didn't really count, though. All I'd been during that conversation was confused, but now I knew what he'd done.
I would make him pay. I would drive him to fucking suicide! I would make his life a living hell, just before he died!
Just before I died.
I looked at the time line, wondering when to troll him next, but I didn't feel like trolling him anymore. I looked at my watch. For some reason that had struck me as a fantastically great idea at the time, I'd given it a count-down. It was an estimate, roughly, of how much time we had left. 51 hours, 7 minutes.
This wasn't fair.
I stood up and walked away from my chair. I avoided my teammates, and headed out the huge steel doors that led outside, into what should by all rights be the vacuum of space, but I could breathe just fine.
I looked out into the blackness. That's all it was, blackness. No stars, no moon, no other meteors, just blackness. I fiddled with the straps holding the lens over my left eye, and lifted it.
Vision 1.5-fold. Half blind in one eye, but what it does see is beyond normal vision.
Around me, in the direction of what used to be Skaia, I saw space-time boil away.
I returned, had a shower, and judged my tiredness. Unable to judge it, I lay on my bed. After a few minutes of trying to clear my mind, I sort of blanked out.
It was at about 10am that my brain decided to re-engage itself with my body. What passed for sleep in my life was weird like that. Still, somehow my body was used to it. It probably wasn't that great for my mental health, though.
I got up and checked my computer again.
No one. Go figure.
And, like I jinxed the universe, but in a decent way for a change, I was chimed by PesterChum, announcing that supremeCommando was pestering me.
SC: hey, what's up?
DC: Woke up without ever really being asleep, got trolled by someone, went running, blanked out for two hours. Gotta love my life.
SC: gord, you whine about that every freaking time i ask you what's up. quit doing that.
DC: I figure I am entitled to bitch about something that debilitating.
SC: you seem fine to me, but whatever.
SC: yeah, yeah, you're inevitably going to snap.
DC: I'm inevitably going to.... fly off the handle and go berserk on the world. Seriously. The human brain is sort of supposed to sleep sometimes, you know?
SC: listen, have you heard about that game that's coming out soon.
DC: Yeah, you keep reminding me. Sburb.
SC: yeah, anyway, sburb came out as a beta yesterday.
SC: but guess what.
DC: I'm afraid to.
SC: aw, come on. someone got ahold of a cd early and pirated one. i got a copy before they clamped down on it.
DC: And why, exactly, would I be interested in stolen goods?
SC: <requesting file transfer>
DC: Not interested, alright? I'll wait until it comes out on the shelves, maybe.
SC: or you could get it for free, from me.
DC: At the price of a guilty conscience.
SC: gord, this is made by a huge developer. weird thing is, they don't even make games normally. i did some research, the company that's releasing this game primarily makes baked goods.
DC: That sounds... suspicious?
SC: yeah, kinda, but who cares. stick it to the man.
SC: or in this case, the woman. side-corporation of betty crocker, i think.
DC: Alright, fine.
DC: Holy crap, this file's a lot smaller then I expected. Have you installed it yet?
SC: yeah, but it needs someone to connect with first. i looked at the system requirements for this thing. it's ridiculous. you could run this on a commodore 64 and it'd probably work.
DC: 0h sh1t!
SC: gordon, talk to me here.
DC: Something just exploded outside. It sounded pretty close. I took cover.
SC: you dove under your bed like a spaz, right.
DC: I'm going to check this out. The download should be done by then, so I'll install it. Assuming I don't need to evacuate my house.
SC: okay. i'll just be here being all bored, then.
DC: Sounds good to me.
I'd never really heard an explosion outside of a movie, so I hadn't a clue what had actually caused the explosion in question. Exploding fuel tanker? Buried World War 2 ordinance? I wasn't sure if it was even altogether wise to go running towards the explosion.
I was at the top of my driveway when I saw the crater. It wasn't especially easy to miss. My house was on a street that sloped downhill, meaning that the crater, at the bottom of the hill, was very easy to see, especially since every tree surrounding it was either a cinder or flattened. Heck, even the road looked half melted.
Where the crater was had once been a person's house. I knew that person, although not especially well. We'd been friendly at one point, but now I sort of thought he was a prick.
And now, evidently, he was a dead prick, or at the very least a homeless one.
I turned away, and walked down to my house. I could already hear sirens, the fire station wasn't very far away. Not a whole lot they could do, except prevent the fire's spread.
I looked up. A solid layer of cloud, still threatening to rain. I wasn't even sure why I looked up.
I wasn't sure whether I was glad, then, that as I looked up, I had the good fortune of seeing a meteor plunge out of the sky, landing somewhere beyond view. Fortunately for my inner ears, there was enough distance between me and it that I only heard a muffled boom.
This was bad, wasn't it?
Last edited by distainfulCatalyst; 10-18-2010 at 01:15 PM.
I wasn't always this slow, you know. And even if I am now, and I can't move as fast as everyone else, and I'm always told to keep up...
I'm not stupid. I don't know why people always think that I'm stupid. It hurts, a little, but it's okay. I've gotten used to it, I guess. It's...
...not like I can do much else. I didn't even get a useful power - I can slow down time for myself, but nobody else; I'm not sure what purpose it would serve, besides putting me into the role of 'bait' for pretty much everything. I can shoot pretty well, but...I don't think anyone really cares about that.
It's...kind of peaceful, though, when I slow things down. I've always liked it to be quiet, and even if nothing else does, it's still really pretty. Everything just...pauses.
I don't know how to describe it. I don't think I could, really, not in words. Nobody really listens, and nobody really understands. I can slow things down, just for myself, and even though the moments passed more quickly than usual at first, I learned - I learned to capture the moment in my head, if I wanted. Slow it down enough so that I could examine it in detail.
Not that it matters. I've never liked to fight, really. Everyone always asks why I joined, and it's only because Itchy would get himself into trouble without me to pick up after him. He's my little brother - I have to take responsibility for him, even if I can't keep up--
--not..not that I ever could, with him. He was always so fast, when we were younger; it hasn't changed. He's faster, if anything, and harder to keep track of. And he makes fun of me for being slow, all the time.
But it doesn't matter, not that much. Someone has to remember, because he's got a memory like a sieve, and that hasn't changed either. I guess I could say the sieve's got bigger holes in it now.
Some days, though, it's hard, and nobody really understands. The world goes so fast even when I'm not slowing things down, and I'm...
...scared, honestly. It's a little like walking into a crowd, and you get shoved and jostled and pushed in every direction you can think of and there's no personal space at all, and you're trying to follow everything at once because nobody will stop for you. Nobody looks back.
Speed it up. Five or ten times. And you'll know what I have to deal with, every single day.
And some days, Itchy will just shove me around for no reason than because he can, and I wonder if he remembers.
I wonder if he remembers that I'm his big brother.
He probably doesn't.
But I have to think that he does, because the alternative is what scares me the most. If he forgets everything, some day...
I don't know what I'll do then.
"You know somethin', Doze?"
"Huh?" Doze looked up from his book at Trace, who was currently sprawled in an armchair. (Trace hadn't really gotten the hang of chairs, or at least that was the explanation given. Personally, Doze thought that it was just an excuse to sit in any chairs as obnoxiously as possible.)
"I don't get it. Why do you hang around with Itchy so much, anyway? He's kind of a jerk."
"Then why, huh?"
"Because...well, you know how you and Fin are twins, right?"
"And you'll stick together always, right?"
"That's the same with me and Itchy. Except we're brothers. And even if he doesn't care, and he pushes me around, I still have to look out for him. Because he's still my brother, whatever happens, and I have to take care of him because he doesn't take care of himself. It's always been that way."
He's always liked painting. It's something he's good at.
Usually, he moves slowly; even if he doesn't think slowly, he still does things a beat behind everyone else. But when he paints, all that slowness is transformed into something different, and when he's working on anything, he moves almost lightning-fast, so absorbed in his work he forgets that he's supposed to be slow.
He always has a quiet glow, at those times. And even when he slows himself down, he doesn't stop working - it just allows him to capture the moment better, temporarily put time on hold so he can hold it in his head and put it on the canvas, exactly as he sees it.
It's almost hypnotising, watching him work, because he has certain ways of doing things, but mostly because nobody really knows him well enough to know that he does this, in what lengths of time he has available to him. And no matter what subject he puts his paints and his mind to, he always includes some element of blue.
(Blue has always been his favourite colour.)
And it says something, it really does, that if he happens to walk in on it, Itchy will always - without fail - stop to watch his older brother paint.
>You see a LINK.
>Upon clicking the LINK, you are redirected to a DEVIANTART ACCOUNT. What a STRANGE THING.
So I made a thing. Threw it together briefly. ADJECTIVES WHAT ARE THOSE
In a certain sea, there is a certain island.
This certain island has many ports. There is a certain port.
In this certain port, there are many ships.
But we don't care about the ones with sails of blue, or the one with a deep maroon sail.
Nor are we are interested in this one, with a sail of a rather lovely shade of pur-
"WHAT THE FUCK."
Oh. Yes, this is the one we're interested in!
A young troll with nubby little horns stamped his foot. "Damnit, Sollux!"
The other troll in the room, a short troll with four horns about his head, sighed and wiped his red and blue glasses on the lapel of his black coat. "What ith it, Karkat?" the navigator of the Miracle asked, dreading what his friend had to complain about this time.
"Just WHY are we in port on the ONE SINGLE DAY every other fucking pirate on the sea is at dock? Aren't you supposed to keep track of this shit?" The first mate shouted, stamping a black boot once more. Sollux sighed, turning around in his chair. His yellow tie fluttered with the movement.
"I didn't know, Vantath. Get off my athth, alright? Tho we're in port at a bad time of the day. Doethn't matter. Now will you leave me alone and go get thtoned with the captain?"
"For the last fucking time, I don't do that with him! The only reason I'm on this Gog-damned boat is because he's got a fuckload of money!" Karkat shouted, which was all he ever really did.
Sollux made a little shoo-ing motion with his hand. "Thtill, could you go? I'm in the middle of thomething - "
Suddenly, the grey-clothed troll was right over Sollux's shoulder. "Jegus fuck man. ANOTHER letter to Me-" A hand clamped over his mouth, Sollux looking around nervously.
"Don't thout thingth like that, man. Okay?" he said anxiously, and Karkat decided that he just couldn't be assed to worry about this bulgesucker's problems.
"Fine. But only because I'm bored to Hell and back around you!" he exclaimed as he marched back up to the deck, in to the bright light of the sun. Karkat blinked under the entirely tolerable sun. He could see the ships of the other pirates they knew - the Strongboat (evidently, it was the cabin hand's idea), the Spider's Claw - honestly, how could you miss something so obviously compensatory? - and the beautiful royal ship The Glubbineer. Karkat frowned. He... didn't remember who the Hell named it that. He was sure he'd recall it soon.
"Heeey, best fuckin' friend in the whole world."
SHIT. Captain Gamzee Makara approaches. Karkat Looked around wildly for a place to hide, but to no avail.
His makeup-ridden captain grinned as he bore down on the hapless first mate.
DID I DO IT RIGHT.
Also I came up with this idea before reading Vodka Mutiny.
Also, written by a friend (intentional badness ahead):
ONE DAY MINDFANG WAS KILLING TROLLS.
"HA HA" SAID MINDFANG
THE TROLLS DIED AND WERE EATEN BY BIG SPIDER, WHO WAS MINDFANG'S MOMMY AND TOLD HER BEDTIME STORIES UNTIL 8PM
THEN SUDDENYL THERE WAS DUALSCART
HE CAME TO KILL THE BIG SPIDER MOMMY
BUT MIND FANG SAID "NO!!!!' AND FACED HIM!!!
SHE ROLLED HER DICE AT HIS HEAD HE SAID "OW"
THEN HE SAID "THESE DICE ARE GIVING ME BRAIN DAMGAE"
MINDFANG SAID "HA!"
DUALSCAR THEN KISSED MINDFANG FROM BRAIN DAMAGE
MINDFANG SAID "OH DUALSCAR LETS BE TOGETHER AND KILL AND ORPHA N EVERYONE IN THE WORLD!!'
DUALSCAR COULDNT SPEAK BECAUSE BRAIN DAMAGE SO HE JUST WENT LIKE UHGJJHJHGDGF
THEN DUALSCAR AND MINDFANG FILLED PAILS TOGETHER AND LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTERET UNTIL GLUBGLUB KILLED THEM FROM HUNGER
Last edited by KilroyWasHere; 10-18-2010 at 06:59 PM.