MSPA Fanfiction III

[raequiem]

Speaking of Archive of our Own, could anyone/does any want to send me an invite to get on there? I'd like to, it's just that apparently I'm no. 600-and-something in the sign-up queue,

I'mma see if I can get you one. You definitely deserve it.

PM me your email and I'll kick it your way as soon as I can.



@Nannaki: I'll post more as soon as possible!

@Roger: Really? OMG *feels loved* I hope I can live up to that!

@sebastian: I you for ing AU fics.

[Wigmund]

@rae: Dammit, as soon as Dave mentioned 'Morgan Freeman' I read the rest of the fic in his voice.

@kanji: I love your Troll Christmas stories. I can't wait for Four Calling Birds.
Also, the portion of your avatar cycle where it peeks in and out of the gift box is terribly cute.

@summergale: Poor WV....

[Sushi Database]

I'm trying to decide whether I want to put Shenanigans and Zazzerpan on AO3... it's definitely a superior place to store the fics, but colored dialogue kind of plays a signature role in my fics and I hear AO3 doesn't have color tags. Is that true? And if so, how can I show the different between Alt Prototype Douchefail Dave and Future Awesome Alt Dave?

[raequiem]

Sushi: AO3 does not have colortags, it's true. Very sad, but hopefully that'll be fixed sometime soon. When I put Shades & Feathers up there, I used tg and TG to differentiate the Daves. But that's just kinda fail.

Wig: That's the idea! (His textreader has other voices, but that's his favorite for obvious reasons.)

[DJ-P0N3]

Woohoo!
Part 2 is done, thank you free time and motivation!

1-up, down-1
Part 2

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The Heir is dead, the Thief’s to blame, the doomed game of Sburb be played.

The Seer of Light gently glided down to the Quest bed where the fresh corpse of the slain Heir lay. She stared at his cold, fragile form and clenched her grip tightly upon the Thorns of Oogloth. She didn’t want to cry, the horrorterrors began to whisper in her ear.

¿IĢƎɹŠIɐB IʌɐʇɐB ʇɐSƎ Iɐʌ

Rose set the thorns down upon the Quest bed, she wanted to call this an altar. She wanted to call out The Demon and do away with him, but she lacked the power. Her rash thinking could cost them another asset they could not afford to lose. “Yes, I do not exactly approve, but this is the best course of action right n-“

It was Dave, clearly he had known this was about to happen, Rose looks around her surroundings a moment, no sign of him. Most likely because he already knows where she looks. Damn him and his time bullshit.

Show pesterlog

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- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering tentacledTherapist [TT] at ? : ?? –
TG: rose the fuck are you going
TT: I am attempting to bring John back to life.
TG: how exactly are you gonna do that
TT: The Horrorterrors have some interest in John’s body.
TG: oh fan-fucking-tastic
TG: give john right over to some tentacle crazy evil mind fuckers
TT: What else can we do?
TG: i can go back in time stop the demon
TG: maybe if i make a shit ton of me with time shenanigans i can beat him
TT: Dave, you and I both know how pointless that is.
TG: god damn it
TG: fine do what you want
TG: see if i care
TT: Dave, I know you are upset over John’s death.
TT: We are both outside of our comfort zones right now.
TT: If we can get him back we can prevent ourselves from being stuck in this doomed timeline.
TT: This is for the best Dave.
- turntechGodhead [TG] blocked tentacleTherpaist [TT] –

Dave was being irrational, now there was no real way she could explain the significance of the Horrorterrors. She picked up John’s corpse and dragged a palm across his cheek. “So cold to the touch…” She feels his clothing; the dried blood has made the shirt cracked and most likely uncomfortable to wear. “I…I will bring you back John, this is not the end."

She brings his body closer to her; she neared his lips with her own. She does not wish to reinforce any theories that may have existed prior to Sburb, but if this is what she must do to bring him back, she would do it every day if the need be so. She locked her lips John’s frail corpse, she could taste the death on his lackluster lips. The Horrorterrors proceeded to slowly worm their way into his body via her mouth, through the kiss they entered his body and began to spread.

˙ZIƎɹןĒʌ NʞĒDS UƎIʌɹɐ IUƎƜɹƎĶ NʌɐS ʇSNظɐS Ɯɐɹɐʌ SĒƜ 'Āظ

Rose let go out the body and lay it down gently on the altar. She waited patiently as she watched the corpse of John begin to bask in a dark glow. She stepped back and watched as the blood evaporated and his skin became soft once more, but she did not see his eyes grow to the exuberant color they once were. Nor did his skin gain the same lively nature it had possessed only moments ago. “I thought, that you would bring him back to life.”

˙SƎUʇĪƜ NSŪƜ PɐBɐʇ ŠŅIʌ ʇƎQ 'ƜɐSƎ SĒƜ

“I don’t remember making that part of the plan.” Rose was growing upset and impatient, not only was her plan already beginning to show signs of imperfection, but now the Horrorterrors were mocking her with their claims. “If you proceed to do this I will no longer aid you or listen to you for the tiniest bit of information.” She bit her lower lip, she knew she may come to regret those words but now was not the time to show signs of weakness, and she had to keep her poker face strong.

˙ɐQĪZPĪןɐD NSŪظ ɐƜɐŠƎIƆƎIDƎU SɹIɐʌ SĒƜ ˙NŠʞƎIɹD ZN ʇƎI

“Is that so?” Rose couldn’t deny that, she had sown her own fate. She was now utterly useless to them as they now possessed a host who would not deny them nor question them. She had no power over them, nothing they could possibly want. She picked the thorns back up and held them close to her heart, “I was…wasn’t I important to you at all?”

˙ɐQĪƜɐŠƎIƆƎIDƎU SɹIɐʌ SŪظ ˙ƜĀQĪZPɐظɐʌ NSŪظ IŠNظIQ ɹI SƜNظ

“So that’s how it is.” Rose held herself a moment, her plans, her world, was crumbling around her at the smallest miscalculation. She had forgotten it was not the Horrorterrors that needed her, but she had needed them. “I will…leave you be then. John….I…” Now wasn’t the time, no, her heart was breaking in two and her mind was beginning to lose all hope that they would ever win this game. Turning, she walked away from the altar, taking a step off and pushing herself into the skies of LOWAS, she began to hover a moment before receiving a message from Dave yet again.

Show pesterlog

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- FUTURE turntechGodhead [FTG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at ? : ?? –
TG: i told you
TT: Yes Dave, you warned me about the Horrterrors.
TG: i told you dog
TG: but now aint the time to be making jokes
TT: Since you are future Dave I take It you know how things play out from here?
TG: you bet
TG: just cant let you in on it
TT: Why is that?
TG: because if i tell you what happens youll do everything you can to prevent it
TG: and it would only get you killed

Rose can feel her eyes beginning to water, though she was the Seer of Light even she could not bear to watch, to wait, to even catch these series of events out of the corner of her eye. A tear slid down her cheek as Dave continued to pour salt in a fresh, bleeding wound.

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TG: so just suck it up and get moving
TG: i have an idea to fix this fuck up of yours
TT: Oh joy, do tell me it involves pulling the broom out of your ass.
TG: just chill rose
TG: jesus get a fucking clue
TT: No Dave, you get a fucking clue. I am sick of your time based dumbfuckery.
TT: I will not simply ignore these insults.
TT: You should know what I am feeling right now.
TG: of course i do
TG: but you need to stop being a brat and get serious
- tentacleTherapist [TT] blocked FUTURE turntechGohead [FTG] –

Rose left the land of LOWAS behind, she did not wish to see Dave, and she did not want to speak to him. She only wanted solace, she wanted to be alone. To hopefully find a way to fix her mistake.

˙SƎIʇSOƜ

˙sʞǝıuıʇuɐɯ sɯnɯ ou nuǝıʌ ɹɐd ʇūļʞ un SƎIʇSOƜɐD

Vriska had finally calmed down. She sat back into her seat and got back onto trollian. Checking once more, she saw John’s timeline did continue further, still heading into the Scratch. A sigh of relief escaped her lips. Gamzee patted her shoulder, “SeE? iTs AlL gOoD.” He smiled sincerely, Vriska held a smirk upon her face. He continued to speak, “WhY nOt TaLk To HiM? bEt He MiSsEs YoU.”

Vriska agreed with a simple nod, she prepped herself to troll John before she saw just exactly what seemed to have changed. She had to keep her cool this time, he was still alive for the most part wasn’t he? He was still breathing and able to move, maybe even had his heart still beating. Vriska stood up slowly, her arms began to fidget. Turning off the husktop’s screen she proceeded to walk away to her own room. It had been decorated in posters of the fabulous Nicholas Cage that John had shown to her. That’s right, John. This whole room reminds her of him. One by one she proceeded to tear down each poster and crumple them, tossing them aside into a pile.

“Way to go you dum8 8itch…” she thought to herself, “Now he’s all dead…”

John opens his eyes, slowly he sits up. Looking at his hands he sees the blood has dried on his hands. Rubbing his fingers together it begins chip off bit by bit. “That’s right….” His mind goes blank for a moment as he recalls what had happened only a matter of hours, maybe even less, ago. The Demon had killed him, hadn’t he? John placed a palm upon his chest and tried to feel for a wound, sure enough he could feel a gaping hole in his chest. “This is…I…am I dead?”

˙Āظ 'ʇOظĀUNɹ SƜNظĀʇNɐظ

Those voices again, the same that had made John cower in fear now held no power over him, if anything, they seemed to be, consoling him, comforting him in a time of confusion. “So…I am dead, but alive…?” He waited a moment for a response, perhaps the Horrorterrors dislike repeating themselves. “Okay, well….what am I supposed to do now?”

˙IʇƎIןZI ʞƎIʇ SIUISɐ SظĒʌƎPOU OU˙SɹĀSIƜƎ NSŪƜ PɐBɐʇ SŪظ ˙SʞƎIUIʇUɐƜ ĀƜĀɹɐP ZPNɐP ɹI

“Alright I guess that’s…wait…how exactly am I….”John understood these voices now. He hadn’t noticed it a second ago, but before he died these voices were a garglemesh of mentally scarring jibberish, and it was now a deep, tone of voice with a softer flow. “On second thought, don’t tell me. Just, let’s get moving I guess…maybe I ought to talk to Vriska.”

˙ʇSɹIƜ SIUDɐS 'NʞƎIUIŅNɹQ ZN

Author's notes

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Oh boy, plot thickens. I didn't much sleep last night, and this part is shorter than I intended it to be. Just gives me that much more to do with part 3 I guess.

Horrorterror translations

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Are you ready to begin?

The Heir will soon become our emissary to your world

We will, but he is now our host

(unintelligible, I am doing these by memory, god am I stupid.)

We no longer need you, you are not necessary anymore

Wake up

Wake up Heir, your time is now

You are, but you are also alive

There is much to be done, we need you to succeed

To knight, the dream will die

[Katrika]

Kanji: Yessssss, your Christmas fics are amazing and that was amazing.

[QuetzaDrake]

@Mayor: Goddamn horrorterrors, and goddamn future jerk Dave.

Nice work, can honestly say I didn't expect the story to take that direction. Wonder what exactly the tentaclemonsters want with zombie John? :s

[DJ-P0N3]

Wonder what exactly the tentaclemonsters want with zombie John? :s

Honestly that is an excellent question.
There's a whole lot more going on behind the scenes than I should let on.

[Aerodactylus]

MAN! I wake up in the morning feelin' like P Diddy and what do I find? Cthulhu!John, Troll Christmas stories, and A HIGH SCHOOL AU. Rae, I am not a Terezi/Dave shipper, but THIS IS JUST SO ADORABLE that I don't care. That's what I love about HSAUs; they might be the malignant tumor of fanfic, but when done correctly they're fantastic, because everyone can relate to the drama.

[ceruleanTresses]

Warning: Highschool AU ahead. Don't like, don't read. These are the malignant tumor of most fanfiction communities, but I'm weak.

Bright Eyes

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She can't take her eyes off of him.

From the moment she walks into her first class, she can't look away.

It's not like he's a particularly fine specimen of pubescent manhood - reddish blond hair, slim build, clothes too dark for his complexion (and wouldn't Kanaya be tickled at that, Terezi criticizing someone else's fashion) and heavy black glasses over his eyes. She doesn't think he notices her peeking at him - he doesn't look back, at least she doesn't think so. Then again, he could be shooting her a death glare behind those shades and she'd never know.

Stupid stupid dumb. Cool girls like Terezi do not stare at weird guys in their algebra class. No matter how oddly fascinating they are. She sighs, pushing back her own red shades to scrub her eyes. This jet-lag is getting to her something awful. Yeah. That's it. Jet-lag. She's tired, that's why she keeps staring like an idiot.

That's not even convincing in her head.

She wants to put her head down on the desk, but the asshole teacher is paying extra special attention to the extra special transfer student. Bluh. It's not like she needs it - she learned all this last year. Balancing equations is not that hard, dumbasses. Suck it up and quit bitching that your calculator won't tell you the answer.

The bell rings - finally - and she stands, stretching. She gathers her books and tosses one last, nonchalant glance at the boy in the corner. And does a double-take.

He slips his books into his bag - and pulls out what looks like a handful of white sticks - and unfolds them into one long cane - and taps his way down the aisle and out the door. He never glances left or right, just keeps his face straight ahead and tipped slightly down.

He's blind?!

-----

The blind boy is in two more of her morning classes, and her lunch period. A pretty blonde girl slips her arm into the crook of his elbow (and oh, Terezi aches when she sees him smile) and leads him over to a table with a boy and girl who seem to be in a competition for nerdiest brunette.

Terezi considers going over and taking an empty seat at their table, but dismisses the idea almost immediately. Cool kids do not go begging for friends, they are the ones who get begged. She finds an empty table instead, positioning herself so she can just see him out of the corner of one eye.

It's only as she's unpacking her lunch that the homesickness kicks in. She'd packed potato chips, out of habit, even though she only eats them to snag ranch dressing from Kanaya's salad. And chocolate milk, just to see Tavros's face scrunch up (really, who gets grossed out by chocolate milk?). And she'd swap half her ham and cheese sandwich for half of Karkat's peanut butter and jelly.

She could get ranch dressing from the salad bar, and chocolate milk is good no matter who she's with, and she can make whatever sandwich combinations she wants tomorrow. But it's not the same.

She misses Alternian High. Misses doing math with Sollux, and copying history off of Aradia, and how Vriska could manipulate the teachers - even Mr. Slick - into doing almost anything she wanted. She misses how dark and gloomy it is back home - it's too bright here, too warm, the air too dry. Goddamn mom and her goddamn job making her move out to this goddamn city, and forcing Terezi to go to goddamn Skaian Academy. This sucks.

She tears into her sandwich, and squeezes her eyes shut so the tears don't burn their way out. Times like this her shades come in handy.

-----

She wasn't staring at him all through her last class, and she definitely isn't -

"I'm blind, not deaf or stupid. Quit following me."

God fucking dammit. "I'm not following you, touchy. I just happen to live in this direction." But she takes the opportunity to catch up to him anyway.

He's smirking, just slightly. "Whatever. You're the new kid, right? Terri... Traci..."

"It's Terezi."

"That's it. I'm Dave."

"Nice to meet you, Dave." They walk on in awkward silence for a while.

He breaks it first. "So how do you like Skaian?"

She hefts her bag higher on her shoulder. "Hate it."

He laughs and her heart skips a beat. "Ouch, that's harsh! You've been here all of one day!"

"So? I can still hate it." She resists the urge to stick her tongue out - it'd be extremely uncool, and he wouldn't see it anyway.

"How's that?"

So she tells him, in excruciating detail, about every single way his school, his city, and his life is infinitely less awesome than the one she left behind. They stop walking and he leans against a handy wall, idly folding up his cane and smiling slightly at her rant. And maybe she's exaggerating, just a bit, but it's worth it when he chuckles at some wisecrack about the sun.

Fuck on a Friday, she's pathetic.

She pauses for breath, and he takes his first chance to respond. "It's really not that bad, you know."

Stabbing glares really doesn't work on blind people, she's beginning to learn. "Which part, the heat or the classes or the fact that everyone I care about is three thousand miles away?"

"Actually, I was talking about the sun."

It takes her a moment. Then, "... oh, wow, did you really just go there?" Her coolness facade, which was already cracked by his presence, is utterly shattered.

"I really just went there. Now, what are you going to do about it, Miss Sooo Cooool?" That grin somehow makes her heart stop and her blood pump faster at the same time.

She takes barely a second to decide before leaning in close. "This," she whispers, snatching off his glasses.

Red eyes. He has red eyes, and they're beautiful. They widen but don't focus. "Hey, not cool. Give those back." He reaches in her direction, but she's already skipped back.

"No way. They look better on me anyway." They do, she decides, admiring her reflection in the side of a parked car. Coolness re-established.

"Seriously, Terezi, my bro gave me those, now can I please have them back." He's reaching in the direction of her voice, and his fingers just brush her shoulder before she gets out of the way again, suppressing a thrill of excitement.

"No, I don't think so." But she takes pity on him - really, how could she not? - and presses her own red glasses into his hand. "Here, you can have my old ones." Their fingers brush, and she shivers despite the heat.

Okay, definitely time to get out of here before someone does something they'll regret in the morning. She pulls back and jogs down the street, calling "See you tomorrow, Dave!" over her shoulder.

Smooth one, Pyrope. Really, good job on that one.

-----

Dave listens to her retreating footsteps (smacking the concrete, probably expensive sneakers, god what a poser). He considers chasing after her, but she's already out of earshot.

"Bitch."

His fingers trace the edges of her glasses. Pointy, frameless. Probably really girly. But he feels naked without something covering his eyes, so he slips them on and unfolds his cane. He's barely walked ten feet before he hears his bro's car (the engine has a distinct sound, he's got the exact pitch and rate of its growl memorized, and he could probably find it ten blocks away in a strange city during rush hour) and it pulls up beside him. Door opens and shuts, "hey lil' bro, what's with the shades?" Dave slips his bag off his shoulder and feels it taken, tossed in the backseat.

He sets a hand on the side of the car and walks around to the passenger seat. "Just some shit at school." Pop open the door, slip inside, don't bang your head and keep that cane out of the way. "What're you doing here?"

His bro flops back into the driver's seat with a grunt. "Had shit to do, figured I'd give you a ride home. Got groceries in the back." That explained the rustle when Dave's backpack had been tossed there. "I'm not getting you new shades."

"Won't have to, I'll get 'em back tomorrow." Dave sighs and leans his head back against the seat. "Is this shit you have to do a few hours' worth or a few days', 'cause I think Mrs. B's gonna call the cops if you disappear for a week again."

"Just a few hours." A sigh. "And I'm sorry about that. If this goes right I won't have to go away anymore."

"Whatever."

Silence, and Dave can feel his bro's stare.

"Those look good on you. Where'd you get 'em?"

"Shut the fuck up, asshole."

Laughter, and all's right with the world again.

Except for the girly shades.

-----

And he's alone at home again. Bro helped haul in the groceries and stick them in the fridge, then he headed out again. "Don't set anything on fire until I get back, okay?"

"Aww, come on Bro, how come you never let the blind kid play with matches unsupervised?" His bro laughs and ruffles Dave's hair (and he knows he hates that, the asshole) and then he's gone again.

Dave sighs and heads for his room, only tripping over a puppet once - Bro's pretty good about keeping those things off the floor and out of the way, but no one's perfect. Dave can't remember the last time he sat on the couch without having to pull a plush something out from under his ass, and he really doesn't want to know what that something is.

But he makes it to his room okay, and boots up his computer, checking if any of his friends are online.

Morgan Freeman notes that ectoBiologist is online, and Dave takes a moment to chuckle before he opens a chat. He loves his text-reader.

[Open Pesterlog]

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-- turntechGodhead (TG) began pestering ectoBiologist (EB) --

TG: hey bro
EB: dave! you're home early!
TG: yeah my bro gave me a ride
EB: nice! wish i had a brother sadface
TG: no you dont your dads awesome
TG: anyway thats not what i wanted to talk to you about
TG: what do you know about the new girl
EB: not much... she's from some tiny town no one's ever heard of
EB: apparently she's really really smart - she's in all honors
EB: kinda cute, but not really my type
TG: no shit
TG: everyone knows you have the hots for lalonde
TG: even the teachers are waiting for you two to hook up
EB: shut up!
EB: anyway...
EB: the new girl sat all by herself at lunch
EB: she didn't really talk to anyone all day
TG: so what some kind of emo kid
EB: no, not really! she seemed pretty cool
EB: just like maybe she needed a friend
TG: ...
EB: that means you dave
TG: what
TG: why would i want to be friends with her
TG: shes a straight-up bitch
EB: really? you talked to her?
TG: yeah she stalked me halfway home and stole my shades
EB: :O
EB: sorry surprised face
EB: she really took your glasses?
TG: yeah
TG: left me with hers
TG: please say theyre not girly please say theyre not girly
EB: they looked pretty effeminate bro!
TG: dammit
TG: where do you even get these words
TG: oh right your girlfriend
EB: she is not my girlfriend!
TG: only fooling yourself john
EB: in
EB: any
EB: case
EB: dot
EB: dot
EB: dot
EB: are you gonna wear them to school tomorrow?
TG: its either those or those pointy pieces of shit my bro wears
TG: and you know how retarded those look
EB: hers are pretty pointy too!
TG: what color are they
EB: red
TG: ...
TG: dammit
TG: dammit
TG: dammit
TG: thanks bro
TG: see you tomorrow
EB: see you dave! lol

-- turntechGodhead (TG) ceased pestering ectoBiologist (EB) --

God fucking dammit.

-----

Terezi shouldered her door open. "Mom? You around?" Silence.

There are still boxes everywhere. She drops her bag on one and wanders into the kitchen.

A note stuck to the fridge:

"Terezi-
Out for work
Got some food
Do your homework
Mom"

She opens the fridge - yep. That nasty vegan shit Mom's always trying to get her to eat. She'll order a pizza later. One with meat.

The memory of Mom's face last time she caught Terezi eating pepperoni makes her snicker. She grabs a lemonade - the only palatable thing in the fridge - and heads upstairs to her room.

Her bed is the only thing not in a box. She wades through the pile, looking for one in particular - there!

She pulls out her laptop, flopping onto the bed. Their internet's not set up yet, but their neighbor's isn't even password-protected. And Karkat's online, might as well let him know she's alive.

[Open Pesterlog]

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-- gallowsCalibrator (GC) began trolling carcinoGeneticist (CG)

GC: H3Y K4RK4T
CG: OH HEY. I GUESS YOUR PLANE DIDN'T CRASH OR ANYTHING?
GC: 4PP4R3NTLY NOT
GC: 4LTHOUGH 1T WOULD B3 PR3TTY 1NT3R3ST1NG 1F 1T H4D 4ND W3 W3R3 ST1LL H4V1NG TH1S CONV3RS4T1ON
CG: GODDAMN, YOU NEED TO STOP TYPING LIKE THAT.
CG: IT'S ANNOYING AS FUCK WAITING TWENTY MINUTES FOR YOU TO SAY ANYTHING
GC: STFU V4NT4S
GC: L1K3 YOUR W4Y 1S 4NY B3TT3R
GC: M1ST3R SHOUTY MCSHOUTF4C3
CG: NEWSFLASH, DOUCHETTE:
CG: YOU DO THE SAME SHOUTY THING!
GC: K4RK4T
GC: DO YOU S33 TH1S TH1NG R1GHT H3R3
GC: TH1S 1S TH3 FUCK 1 4M NOT G1V1NG FOR YOUR OP1N1ON
CG: NO, I DON'T SEE YOUR RETARDED FIGURE OF SPEECH.
CG: WE'RE THREE THOUSAND MILES APART.
CG: FUCK
CG: TEREZI, THIS SUCKS.
GC: 1 KNOW 8(
CG: I COULD REALLY HAVE GONE FOR SOME HAM-AND-CHEESE AT LUNCH TODAY.
CG: WAIT
CG: WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR GLASSES?
CG: I THOUGHT THEY WERE B, NOT 8.
GC: OH Y34H
GC: 1 GOT N3W ON3S FROM TH1S W31RD K1D 4T MY SCHOOL
GC: TH3YR3 B1G 4ND ROUND 4ND BL4CK
GC: TH3Y LOOK SO SW33T 8D
CG: I BET THEY LOOK LIKE SHIT ON THAT HIDEOUS ASS YOU CALL A FACE.
GC: H3H3H3 LOV3 YOU TOO K4RKL3S
CG: UGHHHH.
CG: JUST TELL THE DRAGON-LADY HOW MUCH I HATE HER.
CG: YOU KNOW, FOR MOVING YOU OUT TO THE
CG: WHAT DID YOU CALL IT?
GC: BL4Z1NG WH1TE 4SSHOL3 OF FUCK4LL, NOWH3R3
CG: YEAH, THERE.
GC: 1LL B3 SUR3 TO L3T H3R KNOW WH3N N3XT 1 S33 H3R
GC: 1N TH3 M34NT1ME HOWS YOUR D4D
CG: HE'S DOING OKAY.
CG: LESS CRABBY THAN USUAL, WHICH IS, YOU KNOW...
CG: WORRYING.
GC: 8(
GC: 1TS GONN4 B3 OK4Y K4RK4T
CG: I HOPE SO.
CG: OH SHIT, I DIDN'T REALIZE IT WAS SO LATE.
CG: I HAVE TO GO STUDY FOR DROOG'S TEST FUCK FUCK FUCK.
GC: OH SH1T YOUD B3TT3R GO DO TH4T
GC: H3H3 4T L34ST 1 GOT OUTT4 TH3R3 B3FOR3 TH4T
CG: YES, YOU'RE A LUCKY LITTLE SKANK AND WE ALL HATE YOU.
CG: I HAVE TO GO, BUT WE'LL TALK LATER?
GC: FOR HOOOOURS 8D
GC: W3R3 GONN4 T4LK UNT1L TH3 SUN COM3S UP
GC: MY T1M3
GC: WH1CH M34NS YOULL B3 L4T3 FOR SCHOOL 4ND M1SS TH3 T3ST
CG: IF ONLY.
CG: LATER, TEREZI.
GC: L4T3R K4RK4T

-- gallowsCalibrator (GC) ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist (CG) --

Terezi watches the screen until his handle goes dim, then closes the laptop and hugs it to her chest. God. She thought talking to someone would make the hole in her chest hurt less, not more.

She reaches over for the lemonade and chugs it to keep from crying. Dammit, Mom. Dammit, Karkat.

Dammit, Dave.

BED. NOW. GAH.

Late comment, but: Awesomeness! I actually tend to prefer AU fics because they feel less like they're defying canon, and this was a really good one. I loved the detail you put into it! Especially how realistically you treated Dave's blindness--when I realized why John was typing out his emoticons and stuff, it blew my mind.

Also, regarding Kanji's Equius Christmas story--that was freaking hilarious.

[Wigmund]

Yes, more horrorterror gibberish! Pity the flip and translate scheme didn't work for me

Could you include translations of their lines hidden in spoilers in future Author's Notes Mayor?

[KarneWarrior]

Secret Wizards Secret Odyssey
A one part trilogy by KAERNWARRIOR, translated by Karnewarrior

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And then one day, Secret wizard walked from his house to the market. Much to his dismay, however, there was a rogue in the way, who accosted him for his cloak! However, Secret Wizard was not to be bested by some vagabond on a dinky little street a mile from town. He turned up the surrounding earth and the rogue died under the dirt.

But the fireflies came down and [illegible] the rogue got up and called to his friends using a special hunting horn. However, Secret wizard heard the horn and came running dow the road. He put on his special running shoes to make him faster, even.

[illegible]

And then there were fourteen rogues. They each wore a tunic and there was a maiden strapped to their backs. Secret wizard cast magic missile but it missed. The rogues laughed but they had forgotten; magic missile had a homing function! The rogues were dispatched and the maiden was set free.

[illegible] and then Secret Wizard replied, "You are far to fat for me, harlot!" and then the maiden cried, for she was saddened by this outburst. And so that was how Secret Wizard [illegible] but mostly got a bag of tomatoes.

[DJ-P0N3]

Oh, I don't see why not Wigmund.
Its nothing interesting really.
For the most part.


This is what they have said so far, be aware I hadn't thought about keeping these written, so I going off of memory.
Chances are this is slightly inaccurate because my memory is shit.
Still
Be aware some text might give shit away.

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------------------------------------------------
We are the Horrorterrors

We have no reason to hurt you

Do not be so afraid

You are over reacting to the situation

the Seer will bring new life to the Heir
------------------------------------------------
Are you ready to begin?

The Heir will soon become our emissary to your world

We will, but he is now our host

(unintelligible, I am doing these by memory, god am I stupid.)

We no longer need you, you are not necessary anymore

Wake up

Wake up Heir, your time is now

You are, but you are also alive

There is much to be done, we need you to succeed

To knight, the dream will die
------------------------------------------------

Just realized part 2 of that fic was my 413th post.
Thats pretty awesome.

[Sionnan]

EDIT: Taking the lack of response as a no. See you in the morning, thread

Noooooooo! If only I had refreshed the page sooner!

Well, for you...

Warning: Highschool AU ahead. Don't like, don't read. These are the malignant tumor of most fanfiction communities, but I'm weak.

Bright Eyes

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She can't take her eyes off of him.

From the moment she walks into her first class, she can't look away.

It's not like he's a particularly fine specimen of pubescent manhood - reddish blond hair, slim build, clothes too dark for his complexion (and wouldn't Kanaya be tickled at that, Terezi criticizing someone else's fashion) and heavy black glasses over his eyes. She doesn't think he notices her peeking at him - he doesn't look back, at least she doesn't think so. Then again, he could be shooting her a death glare behind those shades and she'd never know.

Stupid stupid dumb. Cool girls like Terezi do not stare at weird guys in their algebra class. No matter how oddly fascinating they are. She sighs, pushing back her own red shades to scrub her eyes. This jet-lag is getting to her something awful. Yeah. That's it. Jet-lag. She's tired, that's why she keeps staring like an idiot.

That's not even convincing in her head.

She wants to put her head down on the desk, but the asshole teacher is paying extra special attention to the extra special transfer student. Bluh. It's not like she needs it - she learned all this last year. Balancing equations is not that hard, dumbasses. Suck it up and quit bitching that your calculator won't tell you the answer.

The bell rings - finally - and she stands, stretching. She gathers her books and tosses one last, nonchalant glance at the boy in the corner. And does a double-take.

He slips his books into his bag - and pulls out what looks like a handful of white sticks - and unfolds them into one long cane - and taps his way down the aisle and out the door. He never glances left or right, just keeps his face straight ahead and tipped slightly down.

He's blind?!

-----

The blind boy is in two more of her morning classes, and her lunch period. A pretty blonde girl slips her arm into the crook of his elbow (and oh, Terezi aches when she sees him smile) and leads him over to a table with a boy and girl who seem to be in a competition for nerdiest brunette.

Terezi considers going over and taking an empty seat at their table, but dismisses the idea almost immediately. Cool kids do not go begging for friends, they are the ones who get begged. She finds an empty table instead, positioning herself so she can just see him out of the corner of one eye.

It's only as she's unpacking her lunch that the homesickness kicks in. She'd packed potato chips, out of habit, even though she only eats them to snag ranch dressing from Kanaya's salad. And chocolate milk, just to see Tavros's face scrunch up (really, who gets grossed out by chocolate milk?). And she'd swap half her ham and cheese sandwich for half of Karkat's peanut butter and jelly.

She could get ranch dressing from the salad bar, and chocolate milk is good no matter who she's with, and she can make whatever sandwich combinations she wants tomorrow. But it's not the same.

She misses Alternian High. Misses doing math with Sollux, and copying history off of Aradia, and how Vriska could manipulate the teachers - even Mr. Slick - into doing almost anything she wanted. She misses how dark and gloomy it is back home - it's too bright here, too warm, the air too dry. Goddamn mom and her goddamn job making her move out to this goddamn city, and forcing Terezi to go to goddamn Skaian Academy. This sucks.

She tears into her sandwich, and squeezes her eyes shut so the tears don't burn their way out. Times like this her shades come in handy.

-----

She wasn't staring at him all through her last class, and she definitely isn't -

"I'm blind, not deaf or stupid. Quit following me."

God fucking dammit. "I'm not following you, touchy. I just happen to live in this direction." But she takes the opportunity to catch up to him anyway.

He's smirking, just slightly. "Whatever. You're the new kid, right? Terri... Traci..."

"It's Terezi."

"That's it. I'm Dave."

"Nice to meet you, Dave." They walk on in awkward silence for a while.

He breaks it first. "So how do you like Skaian?"

She hefts her bag higher on her shoulder. "Hate it."

He laughs and her heart skips a beat. "Ouch, that's harsh! You've been here all of one day!"

"So? I can still hate it." She resists the urge to stick her tongue out - it'd be extremely uncool, and he wouldn't see it anyway.

"How's that?"

So she tells him, in excruciating detail, about every single way his school, his city, and his life is infinitely less awesome than the one she left behind. They stop walking and he leans against a handy wall, idly folding up his cane and smiling slightly at her rant. And maybe she's exaggerating, just a bit, but it's worth it when he chuckles at some wisecrack about the sun.

Fuck on a Friday, she's pathetic.

She pauses for breath, and he takes his first chance to respond. "It's really not that bad, you know."

Stabbing glares really doesn't work on blind people, she's beginning to learn. "Which part, the heat or the classes or the fact that everyone I care about is three thousand miles away?"

"Actually, I was talking about the sun."

It takes her a moment. Then, "... oh, wow, did you really just go there?" Her coolness facade, which was already cracked by his presence, is utterly shattered.

"I really just went there. Now, what are you going to do about it, Miss Sooo Cooool?" That grin somehow makes her heart stop and her blood pump faster at the same time.

She takes barely a second to decide before leaning in close. "This," she whispers, snatching off his glasses.

Red eyes. He has red eyes, and they're beautiful. They widen but don't focus. "Hey, not cool. Give those back." He reaches in her direction, but she's already skipped back.

"No way. They look better on me anyway." They do, she decides, admiring her reflection in the side of a parked car. Coolness re-established.

"Seriously, Terezi, my bro gave me those, now can I please have them back." He's reaching in the direction of her voice, and his fingers just brush her shoulder before she gets out of the way again, suppressing a thrill of excitement.

"No, I don't think so." But she takes pity on him - really, how could she not? - and presses her own red glasses into his hand. "Here, you can have my old ones." Their fingers brush, and she shivers despite the heat.

Okay, definitely time to get out of here before someone does something they'll regret in the morning. She pulls back and jogs down the street, calling "See you tomorrow, Dave!" over her shoulder.

Smooth one, Pyrope. Really, good job on that one.

-----

Dave listens to her retreating footsteps (smacking the concrete, probably expensive sneakers, god what a poser). He considers chasing after her, but she's already out of earshot.

"Bitch."

His fingers trace the edges of her glasses. Pointy, frameless. Probably really girly. But he feels naked without something covering his eyes, so he slips them on and unfolds his cane. He's barely walked ten feet before he hears his bro's car (the engine has a distinct sound, he's got the exact pitch and rate of its growl memorized, and he could probably find it ten blocks away in a strange city during rush hour) and it pulls up beside him. Door opens and shuts, "hey lil' bro, what's with the shades?" Dave slips his bag off his shoulder and feels it taken, tossed in the backseat.

He sets a hand on the side of the car and walks around to the passenger seat. "Just some shit at school." Pop open the door, slip inside, don't bang your head and keep that cane out of the way. "What're you doing here?"

His bro flops back into the driver's seat with a grunt. "Had shit to do, figured I'd give you a ride home. Got groceries in the back." That explained the rustle when Dave's backpack had been tossed there. "I'm not getting you new shades."

"Won't have to, I'll get 'em back tomorrow." Dave sighs and leans his head back against the seat. "Is this shit you have to do a few hours' worth or a few days', 'cause I think Mrs. B's gonna call the cops if you disappear for a week again."

"Just a few hours." A sigh. "And I'm sorry about that. If this goes right I won't have to go away anymore."

"Whatever."

Silence, and Dave can feel his bro's stare.

"Those look good on you. Where'd you get 'em?"

"Shut the fuck up, asshole."

Laughter, and all's right with the world again.

Except for the girly shades.

-----

And he's alone at home again. Bro helped haul in the groceries and stick them in the fridge, then he headed out again. "Don't set anything on fire until I get back, okay?"

"Aww, come on Bro, how come you never let the blind kid play with matches unsupervised?" His bro laughs and ruffles Dave's hair (and he knows he hates that, the asshole) and then he's gone again.

Dave sighs and heads for his room, only tripping over a puppet once - Bro's pretty good about keeping those things off the floor and out of the way, but no one's perfect. Dave can't remember the last time he sat on the couch without having to pull a plush something out from under his ass, and he really doesn't want to know what that something is.

But he makes it to his room okay, and boots up his computer, checking if any of his friends are online.

Morgan Freeman notes that ectoBiologist is online, and Dave takes a moment to chuckle before he opens a chat. He loves his text-reader.

[Open Pesterlog]

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-- turntechGodhead (TG) began pestering ectoBiologist (EB) --

TG: hey bro
EB: dave! you're home early!
TG: yeah my bro gave me a ride
EB: nice! wish i had a brother sadface
TG: no you dont your dads awesome
TG: anyway thats not what i wanted to talk to you about
TG: what do you know about the new girl
EB: not much... she's from some tiny town no one's ever heard of
EB: apparently she's really really smart - she's in all honors
EB: kinda cute, but not really my type
TG: no shit
TG: everyone knows you have the hots for lalonde
TG: even the teachers are waiting for you two to hook up
EB: shut up!
EB: anyway...
EB: the new girl sat all by herself at lunch
EB: she didn't really talk to anyone all day
TG: so what some kind of emo kid
EB: no, not really! she seemed pretty cool
EB: just like maybe she needed a friend
TG: ...
EB: that means you dave
TG: what
TG: why would i want to be friends with her
TG: shes a straight-up bitch
EB: really? you talked to her?
TG: yeah she stalked me halfway home and stole my shades
EB: :O
EB: sorry surprised face
EB: she really took your glasses?
TG: yeah
TG: left me with hers
TG: please say theyre not girly please say theyre not girly
EB: they looked pretty effeminate bro!
TG: dammit
TG: where do you even get these words
TG: oh right your girlfriend
EB: she is not my girlfriend!
TG: only fooling yourself john
EB: in
EB: any
EB: case
EB: dot
EB: dot
EB: dot
EB: are you gonna wear them to school tomorrow?
TG: its either those or those pointy pieces of shit my bro wears
TG: and you know how retarded those look
EB: hers are pretty pointy too!
TG: what color are they
EB: red
TG: ...
TG: dammit
TG: dammit
TG: dammit
TG: thanks bro
TG: see you tomorrow
EB: see you dave! lol

-- turntechGodhead (TG) ceased pestering ectoBiologist (EB) --

God fucking dammit.

-----

Terezi shouldered her door open. "Mom? You around?" Silence.

There are still boxes everywhere. She drops her bag on one and wanders into the kitchen.

A note stuck to the fridge:

"Terezi-
Out for work
Got some food
Do your homework
Mom"

She opens the fridge - yep. That nasty vegan shit Mom's always trying to get her to eat. She'll order a pizza later. One with meat.

The memory of Mom's face last time she caught Terezi eating pepperoni makes her snicker. She grabs a lemonade - the only palatable thing in the fridge - and heads upstairs to her room.

Her bed is the only thing not in a box. She wades through the pile, looking for one in particular - there!

She pulls out her laptop, flopping onto the bed. Their internet's not set up yet, but their neighbor's isn't even password-protected. And Karkat's online, might as well let him know she's alive.

[Open Pesterlog]

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-- gallowsCalibrator (GC) began trolling carcinoGeneticist (CG)

GC: H3Y K4RK4T
CG: OH HEY. I GUESS YOUR PLANE DIDN'T CRASH OR ANYTHING?
GC: 4PP4R3NTLY NOT
GC: 4LTHOUGH 1T WOULD B3 PR3TTY 1NT3R3ST1NG 1F 1T H4D 4ND W3 W3R3 ST1LL H4V1NG TH1S CONV3RS4T1ON
CG: GODDAMN, YOU NEED TO STOP TYPING LIKE THAT.
CG: IT'S ANNOYING AS FUCK WAITING TWENTY MINUTES FOR YOU TO SAY ANYTHING
GC: STFU V4NT4S
GC: L1K3 YOUR W4Y 1S 4NY B3TT3R
GC: M1ST3R SHOUTY MCSHOUTF4C3
CG: NEWSFLASH, DOUCHETTE:
CG: YOU DO THE SAME SHOUTY THING!
GC: K4RK4T
GC: DO YOU S33 TH1S TH1NG R1GHT H3R3
GC: TH1S 1S TH3 FUCK 1 4M NOT G1V1NG FOR YOUR OP1N1ON
CG: NO, I DON'T SEE YOUR RETARDED FIGURE OF SPEECH.
CG: WE'RE THREE THOUSAND MILES APART.
CG: FUCK
CG: TEREZI, THIS SUCKS.
GC: 1 KNOW 8(
CG: I COULD REALLY HAVE GONE FOR SOME HAM-AND-CHEESE AT LUNCH TODAY.
CG: WAIT
CG: WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR GLASSES?
CG: I THOUGHT THEY WERE B, NOT 8.
GC: OH Y34H
GC: 1 GOT N3W ON3S FROM TH1S W31RD K1D 4T MY SCHOOL
GC: TH3YR3 B1G 4ND ROUND 4ND BL4CK
GC: TH3Y LOOK SO SW33T 8D
CG: I BET THEY LOOK LIKE SHIT ON THAT HIDEOUS ASS YOU CALL A FACE.
GC: H3H3H3 LOV3 YOU TOO K4RKL3S
CG: UGHHHH.
CG: JUST TELL THE DRAGON-LADY HOW MUCH I HATE HER.
CG: YOU KNOW, FOR MOVING YOU OUT TO THE
CG: WHAT DID YOU CALL IT?
GC: BL4Z1NG WH1TE 4SSHOL3 OF FUCK4LL, NOWH3R3
CG: YEAH, THERE.
GC: 1LL B3 SUR3 TO L3T H3R KNOW WH3N N3XT 1 S33 H3R
GC: 1N TH3 M34NT1ME HOWS YOUR D4D
CG: HE'S DOING OKAY.
CG: LESS CRABBY THAN USUAL, WHICH IS, YOU KNOW...
CG: WORRYING.
GC: 8(
GC: 1TS GONN4 B3 OK4Y K4RK4T
CG: I HOPE SO.
CG: OH SHIT, I DIDN'T REALIZE IT WAS SO LATE.
CG: I HAVE TO GO STUDY FOR DROOG'S TEST FUCK FUCK FUCK.
GC: OH SH1T YOUD B3TT3R GO DO TH4T
GC: H3H3 4T L34ST 1 GOT OUTT4 TH3R3 B3FOR3 TH4T
CG: YES, YOU'RE A LUCKY LITTLE SKANK AND WE ALL HATE YOU.
CG: I HAVE TO GO, BUT WE'LL TALK LATER?
GC: FOR HOOOOURS 8D
GC: W3R3 GONN4 T4LK UNT1L TH3 SUN COM3S UP
GC: MY T1M3
GC: WH1CH M34NS YOULL B3 L4T3 FOR SCHOOL 4ND M1SS TH3 T3ST
CG: IF ONLY.
CG: LATER, TEREZI.
GC: L4T3R K4RK4T

-- gallowsCalibrator (GC) ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist (CG) --

Terezi watches the screen until his handle goes dim, then closes the laptop and hugs it to her chest. God. She thought talking to someone would make the hole in her chest hurt less, not more.

She reaches over for the lemonade and chugs it to keep from crying. Dammit, Mom. Dammit, Karkat.

Dammit, Dave.

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This was inspired by something Kassi painted that I am far too lazy to link at the moment. It's of Dave and Terezi wearing each others' outfits.

Karkat's rant about Terezi's typing was for my sake. I love Terezi but hate hand-typing her quirk.

John (and the other kids) write out their emotes because otherwise Dave's text reader gets confused.

What happens next (whether Dave gets his shades back, what's up with Crabdad, where the hell Bro and Dragonmom disappeared off to (probably not the same place)) will be covered next chapter if this one isn't totally hated.

BED. NOW. GAH.

Kinda late to the comment party, but I gotta say I really enjoyed this, even playing with the characters the way you did. Almost sort of like an alternate timeline version of them. It's a little sad in the way that being a kid and getting shit on by the world is sad to see. But really well written, all the same.

[Kawa]

One of the author notes regarding that very good highschool fic reminded me of something:

Is it bad that I can type in quirks at a reasonable speed, without using caps lock for CG and GC?

Which reminds me of something even worse -- how do the quirks work when you're chatting through your glasses? I'm looking at you, Terezi!

[sebastian]

I like AUfics because it is always interesting to see how people put elements of homestuck in other contest (Droog and Slick as professors make me snicker) and because it is easy to ignore canon if you want so you don't have to worry that the next comic update throw your lovely crafted fanfic in the dumps.

It is a shame that too often they seems to end in the limbo of incomplete fanfics *look for absolute no reasons at Tenebrais*

[Sionnan]

I didn't think I had anymore Strider!fic ideas banging around, but apparently I was wrong.

Here ya go, have another.

Where someone, at some point, tries to divert the future by changing the past and its attachments. Or, alternatively, a random Strider fic where Dave is going to be more traumatized by the puppets than usual. Yeah, I know, none of that makes sense.

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It is during one of his rambles through the living room to the kitchen that Dave sees it. He's about to grab the unopened pack of apple juice and spirit it away into his room before his brother can steal it or do something with it (nevermind that bro picked it up on request to begin with), when he notices that Bro hasn't logged out of his computer like usual, but the man himself is nowhere to be seen. Plus, he's got a program open and running, instead of just chilling on his desktop.

Paranoid, Dave looks up to the hatch above the living room. It's not moving, and he can't hear anything... which really means jack shit, because Bro's light enough not to make the boards squeal.

The burning desire to evesdrop overtakes him like wildfire.

Hey, no one in sight, coast is clear... why not just snag a little look?

Dave pauses, reflecting. It could be something deliberately left there to fuck with Dave, like some kind of elaborate scheme to traumatize him. Actually, despite his instinctive wariness about his brother's ploys, that kinda makes him want to see it more.

He abandons the juice, crossing the cords and glancing around to make sure that his bro wasn't going to pop out from underneath the futon or something. So far, so good. The computer hums away, whirring up as it restarts the video that had apparently been on loop.

Well, whaddya know. It looks like feed from the webcam bro had set up in the wizard marrionette hanging next to the tv. Bro had apparently disconnected the stream to the internet, but had neglected to stop it's motion sensitive recording function.

It shows Bro's long form stretched out on the futon, which he'd laid flat to make a bed.

But why the hell would it have recorded that? It's not like anything was mo- holy shit

A fragment of the shadows directly across the room in the video seemed to spasm. Dave simply watches, eyes riveted to the screen. If he gets any closer, there's going to be a permanent nose smear on the monitor.

The shadows finally coalesce into what looks to be a small, dwarfish... what the fuck what that?! Is that a real fucking thing? It looked like a jointed doll or a marrionette without strings, and it seems to be moving completely independently. If this is something his brother set up, this was really fucking disturbing. It looked like something out of Silent Hill.

After a second, it stops its frantic flailing and spastic twitching, and settles into a more or less solid stance. It's a little too dark to make out anything definite, but there seems to be a dark luster to it's body, shiny like a bug. Before Dave can really get used to its presence, it starts to fucking scamper across the room. Dave involuntarily starts back, away from the screen. Aw hell naw! This shit is.... damn!

It disappears under the futon.

Dave stops breathing. He mentally urges the video version of his brother to wake the fuck up because-

It scrabbles up over the side, and sprawls on Bro's face, its movements becoming stiff and aggressive, as its knobbly arms and legs form points, latching onto Bro's head, and now from this angle, he can see more clearly that it's simultaneously trying to rip out his tounge and smother him, and holy shit holy shit holy shit

Bro is awake and thrashing, and now Dave can actually hear a faint, garbled shout as Bro rips at the monstrosity. In the tussle, the creature gets tossed into the puppetcam, jostling the view. There is a tumult of noises, some of which are distinguishable. Bro's feet hitting the floor, the rustling of blankets, his voice saying somethig Dave can't catch. The thing lets out a growling, spitting gobbled hiss, and the wizard's views swings slowly back into the original shot, and Dave can just catch the articulated creature patter out of arm's reach and vanish into a clump of shadows.

It goes on for a little while longer, as Bro scours the apartment, turning on lights and flipping the room. Finally, when he sighs, raking his hands across his head, and sits again on the futon, the feed cuts.

What.

The.

Fuck.

Was that.

The hairs on the back of his neck prickle.

Dave's head snaps up, and he glances around. It feels for all the world as if someone is staring at him. A good, hard stare, one that ghosts a chill down his skin. Something sees him, and something hates him. It feels smart, and it feels patient. And it feels angry.

And yet, no one. Nothing, either. It isn't the webcam puppets, because he's gotten used to them by now. So, feeling simultaneously skeeved out and stupid, Dave begins to scout out the apartment, looking for the something that is staring right at him. He checks each room, eerily recalling his brother's search.

Thwarted, he comes back to the computer. The dusky feed loops another small, jointed creature that hops from a shadow, and scampers to the futon. Dave sits in the chair, mulling, before he distinctly feels something give a long, slow blink.

The electricity of the attention fades.

And vanishes.

Dave bolts from the room, jostling down the small hall to his own room, and slams the door shut behind him.

~Jack Noir gives a disgusted sigh. He really should have known better than to try something like that. And send an imp, at that.

[raequiem]

@Sionnan: oh shit oh shit oh shit. Goddamn fucking dick ass puppet imps fuck fuck fuck.

@thread: OMG YINZ SPOIL ME 8D I am a comment/feedback whore, so this thread is like my favorite place ever because YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME.

cT, I noticed why that would be important halfway through writing their conversation, I'm glad it was picked up on. Sionnan, I drew on my own experiences of changing schools in my formative years, and it sucks ass. Kawa, that is good because it means you can write more fic faster (come on self shut up and write the next chapter). And I'm just confused by how glasses-typing works anyway. Sebastian, the MC would be the BEST teachers. And hopefully this fic won't end up in limbo!

I'm gonna go write more forever, but ILU ALL 33 (My new av feels strangely appropriate 83)

[Graven_Image]

What Lies Underneath

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As it turns out, Prospit has an Archagent too. And she is a witch.

You make your way through the gilded streets, keeping careful watch on the bright beam of light tethering your destination to Skaia above. A small CD player floats beside you, silent.

Everyone else said Disckind was a stupid idea. Shows what they know.

The two Prospitians guarding the building say that the archagent specifically ordered them not to let you in. You give them the choice between letting you in and track 8 of Queen's Greatest Hits. They choose to obey their superior.

Their loss.

As you make your way in through the flames, you switch to a different track. This one is supposed to help you find missing objects, and who you're looking for is the most missing thing you can think of right about now.

You turn a few corners, guided by the tune growing and fading in intensity. And then you enter the room. And you see her.

---

She was always a bit of an insomniac.

For as long as you knew her, she didn't sleep much. She constantly felt, she said, like she was on a caffiene buzz. She kept moving, all the time. She was great on the track team.

It carried over into the game. She almost never slept during the month and a half you've been here, and when she did, she never remembered dreaming. She was always active, always ready to go. It seemed an ironic twist that she was the Bard of Energy.

It's only now, seven weeks into this war, that you've found out what happened.

---

Selena Diamont, Archagent of Prospit. Ambitious. Cunning. But loyal.

She always seeks her kingdom's gain first, and her own at a very close second. She'll gladly perform her duty, but in a way that will give the greatest honor to her.

And now, seeing the fruits of her labors, you wish you could exile her all over again.

---

You've found her. She floats, suspended in the air by whatever magical technology keeps Prospit running. Tubes run in from the walls, connecting to her veins and lungs to keep her blood pumping, to keep her breath going.

As you enter, she lets out a wail that would make any of the banshees in her fantasy books flush with envy. The scream echoes around the room, becoming trapped inside the rings orbiting above her otherwise-still form. There is a peircing whine from the machinery, and the noise coalesces into a pure white beam of sonic destruction, aimed at concentrations of Dersite troops on the world above.

You pull out a spare player and hook it into the nearest control panel. A wave of white noise washes over the room and shorts out the antigravity field.

As you gently lay her down on to the floor, you notice her lips moving. She's still speaking, but she's so incredibly quiet...

She's telling you what happened.

---

For years, Diamont had kept her dreamself under heavy sedation, to prevent her from waking up while they were modifying it. The insomnia for her waking body was just a side effect.

Out went the lower half of her face. Out went most of her muscle mass. In went this foul golden metal that served to control this girl and enhance her for use as a strategic weapon.

And when she finally scaled the last rung and tried to ascend to the God Tiers, that just played into Diamont's hands.

Now, instead of sedatives, her dreamself was pumped full of stimulants. Within seconds, she had fallen asleep.

You know the rest of the story, you tell her.

You saw for yourself how Selena cut her open. You saw the free energy that whirled through the clouds come down and envelope her body. You saw her tower light up on Prospit from a thousand miles away.

But only she saw herself become enshrouded in the white robe of the Bard, emblazoned with the black symbol of Energy.

And then she was taken away.

---

As you carry her out of the building, you can still hear her whispering.

Let me die, she says, in that rusty mechanical tone. I'm battered. I'm torn. I couldn't do anything.

It's alright, you tell her. She's the Bard, she should know. The music can heal her. The song can restore her.

But I'm deformed, she says. I've been torn apart and stitched back together worse than before.

You don't care. For however long it takes to fix her, you don't care what she looks like on the outside.

Because you've seen what lies underneath.

[Wigmund]

Okay, that's got my interest Graven - will we get more?

Track 8 of Queen's Greatest Hits is "Save Me", intentional?

[KilroyWasHere]

Graven.

Whatever the fuck this is, keep doing it.

[crash826]

> Graven: Make like a tree and write more fanfic NOW.

[KarneWarrior]

I'm thinking of doing GallowS out-of-order, starting with 1, then 3, 4, 2, 5 and so on.

Any comments on that? I don't think I can do 2 for a while without smashing my keyboard in frustration.

[raequiem]

Graven.

Whatever the fuck this is, keep doing it.

This. So so hard.

[Twigwise]

Coming out of lurk mode here to say Graven: You need to write more of this. You need to write it all. I might cry if I don't find out what happens.