Her Blood Is Red
I love the idea of another potential Aradia-resurrection fic. I just have a little nitpicking to do, and that's mainly to do with the RGB tags. Instead of assigning number values you can instead use hex values.
Instead of COLOR="rgb(160, 82, 45)" you can use COLOR=#AA6633 (no quotes)to get something like this.
Edit: Also, moar cheesy DE-MP crossover stuff.
The Flesh of WWrath and Angels
the howwling wwas over. but the wwar had just begun.
luna wwas full tonight, her pale face radiating across the sky gazing a lonely gaze at the stars enjoying themselvves on the ground wwithout her. or maybe she wwas sad that all her angels had fallen prey to the madness of this dirty dirty towwn. as for me, i wwasnt exactly tryin to be a beacon of holiness. but right noww i felt like i wwas about the only one in this wwretched slice of damnation tryin to do somethin good.
someone had unleashed a neww kind of designer drug onto the streets of alternia a feww wweeks ago. it caught on so quick that noww evvery cool kid wwanted a dose. once they wwere hooked wwell wweird addiction shit started hapenin that nobody fuckin told us about until wwe wwere face to face with some kind of mindless monstrosity. the shit took the vvery wworst in all of us and brought it out for the wworld to see.
i stumbled back as the silvver tipped harpoon finally decided to release itself from the skull of the peltswwitcher laying on the ground. i wwas glad he didnt scratch or bite me. i couldnt imagine myself catching his condition along wwith his addiction.
but regret coated my harpoon as much as the blood did as i slowwly slid it back into ahabs trusty crosshairs. i kneww him back at the academy. he wwas a good kid. but just howw high did he evven havve to be to go full on peltswwitcher like that?
i didnt wwant to know. but as i checked his clothing i figured i could at least take solace in the fact that i wwould knoww wwho did this by finding out. the fancy smartphone slash music player wwould havve to havve this guys dealer on speed dial. and wwhatever this drug wwas and wwhoever wwas making it clearly had no qualms about turning their customers into fuckin zombie demons from fuckin paradox space.
i also suddenly realized they got the attention of more than just the acpd wwhen i felt three sharp points hoverin dangerously close to the back of my neck. i executed a level 21 double take rearming ahabs crosshairs to find myself face to face with
feferi peixes wwas the mayors adopted daughter and the city secretary as wwell as a femme fatale and the troll of my redrom affection. she alwways returned moirallegiance but that didnt stop me from trying to flush it.
"NOT QUIT---E." my heart sank on the sight of those green goggles of hers.
the culler was fef's vvigilante triplet along wwith the clone that ran the local orphanarium. nobody evver saww any twwo of the three together wwhich meant that contrary to the rules of the comic books they most certainly could not havve been the same person.
"wwhat brins the culler out to this particular asscrack of town?"
"We're both c)(asing the same glubber that's pus)(ing this stuff," she explained, "Or rather, we're bot)( trying to figure out who that glubber is, but it looks like you just w)(acked our only lead, Detective." she referred to my rank with disappointed sarcasm. but i tried to take it all in stride. being hardboiled meant never expecting a compliment.
"nah this fucker wwas too far gone already," i replied briefly turning my gaze to the fallen peltswwitcher before reaiming. "got his little black ibook after my self defense though. maybe you and i could revvieww it ovver a drink or twwo."
at that moment evven i kneww i might havve been a little too forwward in my advvances.
"Sounds nice," she replied with a smile. "All this c)(asing's left me a little dry."
"just dont try to slip me a mickey, culler." i smirked, tryin to put my hardboiledness back on. "im not that easy."
the twwo of us quickly found ourselvves in a nearby bar. the beat cops cruisers raced by, their red and blue blinkers briefly flickerin the glass that muffled their sirens. theyd find another junkie to scoop into the morgue and another crime scene to tie ovver wwith the chiefs mummy tape wwhile i kept the edge that wwould givve me my first real break and a chance to free myself from a desk job.
i put the peltswwitchers phone on the bar table wwhile the bartender servved up a pair of applejacks. id trained myself to stomach something that strong on my wway up to my detectivve badge. it wwasnt easy and sometimes put my promotions at risk but being hardboiled entailed havving a tolerance.
"this oughta havve the poor fucks contact list on it," i explained. "if wwe can get to his dealer then its one rung closer up the echeladder to the top nancho."
"You're getting pretty good at t)(is, detective," she replied, leanin on the counter as if she really wwas genuinely interested. a voice deep inside told me to shut the fuck up right then and there.
"funny thing is all of the big players act like theyre keepin their hands off that shit," i continued. "so wwe either have a neww player or a smart middleman."
"I've got my sources too," she replied nudging the phone to face her with one finger, "W)(oever this dealer is, we can find out how well )(e's connected. Perhaps we can even share t)(e hunt."
i almost flinched. it wwas almost as if she wwas trying to seduce me. on the other hand if this designer drug problem wwas as big as i got the really bad fuckin feelin it wwas then it probably wwould help to have some backup. i nudged the cellphone back in my direction, tapping the contact list open.
"long as this doesnt get back to the gogdamn suits," i nodded, "sevven spearheads are better than six."
"A toast then," she offered with a smile, "to our SUCC---ESS."
i grinned almost like that blind beat cop before taking my glass and returning the toast. the two glasses clinked together wwith a glassy echo before i took a swwig.
i savvored the toast briefly thinking that if i couldnt get a redrom in with fef then perhaps i could get one wwith her vvigilante triple and score a jealous blackrom from fef as an extra. the stuff tasted swweet as freshly oozed sopor going down my throat at the thought of filling twwo royal buckets at once.
but once that applejack hit my stomach it exploded silently. my gills suddenly seized up as my brain suddenly flickered off. the wworld suddenly became a meltin cloud of dissolvving color.
i realized a feww seconds too late that shed spiked my drink wwhile my attention wwent divvided towward that cellphone.
i collapsed to the floor with a numb doof. the last thing i could see wwas the culler taking the phone and abscondin from the otherwwise empty bar with it.
luna wwas full tonight. and her wwrath over losin her angels wwould be ill dispensed towward to anyone she thought took them. as i wwould find out, that included impersonators like me.
First, apologies to Seirios because...
Second, yes, I totally did rip off that scene where Max first meets Mona after killing Jack "crazy wolf guy" Lupino. ;_;
Third, thanks to Frost for the cleverly-named drink.
I'm not sure having Maggie as the picture works. She's an original character, granted, but she isn't very representative of the universe as a whole. She's relatively minor, especially recently. It'd be like if I edited the Star Wars page to make the image a picture of Chewbacca. Not illustrative of the series.
I'd have used Sollux and Terezi, since they're more or less the main characters. Anyone else have any ideas?
I'd use Mr.Pupa. Nothing says Trollcops as an evil Tavros.
RE picture: I've asked Deeum if I could use some of her Terezi/Sollux stuff, but I don't have permission yet. I'm not putting up anything without explicit authorial assent. I also like the Tavros idea (it's gotten so that I keep thinking he was a villain in the canon, too).
Also, please note that when linking to TrollCops from another page, you can't just say TrollCops, since TrollCops is not in the Main namespace. Instead, link to it as follows: FanFic/TrollCops.
“Years in the past, I mean a lot of years in the past, Orphaner Dualscar wwas one of the most feared pirates on the 12 seas. He wwas a purple blood, wwhich meant that nobody messed with him, and plus he did it royally. He had his vvery owwn sea empire, wwhich conflicted wwith the established hierarchy of the trolls. He wwas a proud indivvidual, an evven though he wwas a criminal scum, his descendants tend to err on the proud side. My family bein one of them.
Noww, about 12 years ago, wwhen I wwas 16, I ran awway from home for the last time. I had done it twwice before, and I had been caught twwice before by the police an turned in to my parents. They wweren’t really good parents by human standards. I mean trolls livved for the longest time wwithout any interaction betwween the young an the adults, and suddenly thrustin it on trolls when the mother grubs all died out wwasn’t taken to wwell by some. My parents saww me more as a distraction than anything an as long as I kept my head dowwn, didn’t complain, didn’t expect them to givve me anythin, they wwere okay. They wwent through all the steps, givvin me toys and shit on my wwrigglin I mean birthday an givvin me time to go out an play wwith my lusus, but wwhen they found me associatin with someone of another house, a lowwer house, they got furious and beat me. I still kept goin though an I don’t knoww wwhy.”
“Oh…that’s horrible. Who was it that they beat you over?”
“Of the Alternia City Police?”
“Yes, noww stop interruptin. Wwhen I wwas 13 I decided it wwas time to run awway. So I brought my lusus an packed some clothes an ran awway. I didn’t last a day before my parents sent out a memo or somethin for me. They beat me wwhen I came home, too. I did the same wwhen I wwas 14. Got beat again. An on my 16th birthday my parents got me a sylladex. The next day I captchalogued evverythin I could an ran awway. For good. My lusus died that day. He was old an sickly an it’s a miracle he stayed alivve that long. But you knoww wwho found me that time?”
“Problem Sleuth. He found me an he asked wwhat I wwas doin. I told him an he just said ‘wwell keep up the good wwork son’. It wwas then that I kneww. I kneww I had to be his apprentice, he had to take me in. I couldn't go back to my parents. So I ran up to him, haulin a dead seahorse wwith me, an I got dowwn on my knees an I begged him, I begged him to take me in an teach me to be like him. The rest is history.”
“Well, I can’t see how-“
“Hold up, there’s more,”
“But you just said-“
“Anywway, I trained under Problem Sleuth night and day. He managed to take me in, offered me a spare bedroom an evverythin evven though he wwas married to some hysterical broad. He didn’t hold anythin back, he evven took me on some of his cases an shit and taught me howw to examine crime scenes, howw to convverse wwith the people, all of that. Howw to truly be a hardboiled gentleman. But the thing wwas, he wwas a bit of an old man. I mean, he wwas in his sixties almost. So sometimes he wwould ask me to do something for him, like get him some medication, an I thought, I really mean somethin to this guy, I really do. And evven though he’d be gruff an tell me I was slower than a sack of snail’s shit, he’d still mess up my hair an say I wwas a good kid.”
“An then he got killed. Murdered by the Midnight Crew. He wwas so stupid, tryin to go an face off against a bunch of carapaces in his sixties. They’re old as dirt that group but carapaces don’t age, you see? Sure you can kill em if you shoot em or shank or wwhatnot but they don’t get old the wway a human gets old. Spades Slick realized that all he needed to do to end Team Sleuth messin wwith their plans wwas to kill Problem Sleuth, so they baited him on wwith a case an killed him in the Narrowws. He couldn't havve put up a fight at his age. I wwas the third person at the scene of the murder. The other to wwere Ace Dick and Pickle Inspector. I wwas 21 years old.”
“An then evverbody sorta strayed awway from Problem Sleuth if they kneww wwhat wwas good for em. I tried to wwork wwith AD and PI but it just didn’t wwork out. they didn't havve it in them to do anymore wwork. I set up my owwn P.I. business wwhen I wwas 23 an I movved into the APD department wwhen I wwas 25. Been there for three years noww, an I’vve been gettin shit evver since. The thing is, wwhen people see me, they see Problem Sleuth, so if I fail, not only am I disgracin myself, I’m disgracin his memory. An I just failed again, Harley.”
“Oh come on, don’t get depressed Eridan. We are so close. There has to be someone who knows where Dr. Brinner is, and if not, he’ll show up eventually. Then we can make him pay,” Jade says with a definite tone to her voice.
“Yeah, he’s probably the same guy who told him off in the first place. He’s probably hidin right wwith him.”
“How many people did you tell about your case, Eridan?”
“Uh, well, there was Sol and Eq and Vvris and Kan and Rose an AR an that one croc in the Bank. Though I imagine Ter and Ar knoww as wwell.”
“Would any of them inform Dr. Brinner about it?”
“Maybe the croc but I kinda doubt it. Howw many people did you tell?” you ask, rolling your eyes at her. Can’t this dame just let you grieve for one second?
“Um, well, I told Rose and Kanaya too, but I also told the Egberts, and Dave, oh, and Tavros.”
“Well, Rose and Kan wwouldn’t do it they didn’t seem to like Brinner wwhen wwe wwere there. And they wwere also like 15 or somethin wwhen it happened. Wwould the Egberts havve any reason to go after your grandfather?”
“No!! He was their great uncle of course no one would go after him! Besides, why would they support me after he died if they killed him?”
“Good point. That leaves two suspects.”
“Wow. Did you seriously just ask me that question?”
“Just answer the question Strider.”
“No, I did not kill Old Man Hass. And my brother didn’t do it either. I mean unless Brinner can actually talk to ghosts and not just schizophrenic peanut galleries in his head, he couldn’t have told him off. Besides, I don’t tell my brother’s ghost any of that juicy shit. Right bro?"
You stare in silence at an empty space in Strider’s apartment.
"And if you think I'd just go around mentioning that case to anybody I run into on the street then I guess you really have no idea who you're dealing with."
You sit in silence for a minute, various come backs dancing on your tongue before you just give up.
“Right, wwell, formalities done, guess I’ll be goin noww.”
“Good it was starting to smell like rotten fish in here.”
“But I can’t believe it would be Tavros!”
“Maybe it wwasn’t. Maybe he just told somebody who told Brinner. But we need to go an ask somebody before wwe go around like chickens wwith our heads cut off.”
“Hey, don’t go accusing me of trying to give up, Eridan.”
“You knoww wwhere this dude lives?”
“I know where his shop is, but he doesn’t live there.”
“Right. Let’s go back to the office then.”
“You’r3 do1ng wh4t?!”
“I’m goin to invvestigate Tavvros Nitram to see if he wwas an associate of Dr. Brinner okay? Noww just sign me in an shit an I’ll just go to my office.”
“Er1d4n do you 3v3n…oh n3v3r m1nd. Just st4y on gu4rd.”
“Oh yeah, ED, thomebody left a note on your door you might want to check it out”
You don’t even walk into your office. There’s a strange note on the door like Sollux mentioned, written in a very clear yet oddly typographed font.
“dEAR dETECTIVVVVVE AMPORA,
pLEASE INFORM mS hARLEY THAT i HAVE HER DOG, bECQUEREL, aT MY ABODE,
i WOULD APPRECIATE IT IF SHE CAME AND PICKED HIM UP AT THE EARLIEST, cONVENIENCE,
i'M NOT VERY GOOD WITH DOGS, aND i WOULD HATE IT IF HE ACCIDENTALLY RAN INTO THE STREET WHEN i WAS, wATCHING, hiM,
tHANK YOU VERY MUCH,
P.S. gOOD lUCK WITH YOUR CASE”
“What the hell? I didn’t…I locked my door this morning! Eridan, whoever this is broke into my house and took my dog! And Bec isn’t easy to take!”
“Don’t wworry Jade wwe’ll get your dog back,” you say. “It’s got an address here on the back, for Pickle Avenue, in the Heights.”
“Well what are you waiting for? I have to go get Bec back!”
“Wwhat about the case?”
“Fuck the case! I can’t lose Bec!”
You better get paid extra for this.
“I wwouldn’t havve thought this guy wwould livve in a mansion,” you say as you pull in to the house.
“Yeah, holy shit, this house is huge. Think this guy has ninja butlers set up at every corner?”
“Wwell maybe not ninjas but I did bring my rifle.”
“Good. I brought mine too.”
So that’s why Harley insisted that she bring her own car. She has several firearms in the back, including what seems to be a green Tommy gun, a hunting rifle, and a regular Ak-47. She picks up the green Tommy gun, and captchalogues it. Her sylladex at the ready, she steps out of the car and adjusts her glasses. You are absolutely in awe. Who would’ve thought that she had hardboiled in her?
This is what you’ve been waiting for. You are going to go in there and kick some ass.
“Let’s do this”
“Let’s make it happen”
Jade doesn’[t even bother to knock before trying the door. It is, surprisingly, open, and it opens into a grand foyer that looks like it has not seen a large reception in quite some time. There’s a faint rustle, a dull roar of machinery or people generally bustling inside, but the foyer is devoid of any motion whatsoever, a faint layer of dust forming over the lights and the invaluable antiques lining the walls in shelves. In other words, the typical entranceway of the rich. You would know.
“Where do you think he would keep Bec?”
“I dunno, the backyard? I say wwe find this creep first if you wwant your dog to be safe Harley.”
Jade continues down one of the many hallways through the mansion, carefully checking every doorway to make sure that no one is lurking in there to ambush the both of you. The hallway is covered with paintings of old bullfighters from “Spain” wherever that is. You’re pretty sure it’s an ancient Human place. You, taking the rear, follow after her, followed by the stare of the toreadors.
You’ve always been one for pressing forward, forward thinking, keeping your eyes focused on the goal. So it’s no wonder that you don’t see the club coming from behind, and you don’t see the salamanders preparing the gag to put in your mouth. It’s too late when you do. You realize a bit too late that the silence was one of those “it’s too quiet” silences and you should have been more on your guard. Everything goes dark.
You are now Jade Harley, and you have seemingly stumbled upon a massive, teeming kitchen. Tons of salamanders and crocodiles are busy bustling to prepare a massive meal for whoever lives in this place. Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you approach the industrious animals.
“Hey,” you ask a salamander. “Who are you making this dinner for?”
“The master is having a special guest tonight! A very special guest! We are making a dinner!”
“Can you tell me where the master is? I need to talk to him about my dog.”
“The master said he had a new pet! The dog was very white and fluffy.”
“Yes, that’s him! Can you tell me where he is?”
“He’s in the dining room! He said he was waiting for his guest to arrive. It’s allllll the way at the other side of that hallway!”
The salamander points down a long, narrow hallway, dark and filled with gloom. Whoever the hell this is has a real sense for style and drama. Kind of like Detective Ampora. You realize that you have no idea where Eridan went. He was right behind you the last time you checked, but he might have careened off to do some snooping. Not that it’s necessary! You know who kidnapped your dog, and you know where to find him. You head off down the hallway.
The first thing you notice as you enter the hallway is how quiet it is in here. Even though the kitchen was filled with glubs and naks, the hallway seems to repress the sound and siphon it into nothingness. It’s creepy as fuck.
This hallway seems to be devoid of any sort of light fixtures, or any sort of furnishing at all besides sand colored wallpaper. Your feelings about this are starting to sink.
Eventually though, you come out into the light at the end of the hallway. A huge table stands before you, lying barren of any food and decorated with several colorful bouquets that look a little past their prime. The table itself is intricate, ingrained with several illustrations of bulls among other things. That only catches your mind for a minute, before a bark robs all interest you might have otherwise had.
“Be-“ you shout, before turning around a noticing the man who has your dog in his grasp. Huge horns adorn his head, looking almost ridiculous on a normal sized head. A fancy top hat and monocle give him a look of sophistication, but his razor toothed grin robs it away. His seat, you notice, has wheels to it. A cripple. A cripple just like…
“Close, my dear, but no. You can call me Mr. Pupa.”
Last edited by zebtrestalala; 07-04-2011 at 10:09 AM.
Reason: adding links
Land of Highways and Construction (Mississauga, Ontario)
Re: TROLL!COPS: The AU
Ok, this sound really epic, but some things are still missing. In my opinion, at least.
Casey has appeared throughout this thread, but pretty much always evil or dark or whatever. If John is going to be a superhero, he WILL need a sidekick. She would be named something like, "Super Salamander," or, "Casey the Bubble Queen" or something cheesy. It NEEDS to be cheesy, it just fits better. Her outfit would be her usual bedsheet look, but the bedsheets would be a cape, and a wind design surrounded by bubbles on the back. Her attacks would be bubbles that act like shields/forcefields and reflect all attacks back. It just fits so perfectly!
2. The other 2 Exiles (I know there is the queen and king, but like it matters)
WV as Mayor, PM as... Someone think of something that also makes sense...
3. Nepeta and Karkat
We already have Sollux and Feferi, we need a villain relationship. It makes the most sense for it to be Nep and Kar.
Last edited by Coasterman29; 06-17-2011 at 01:06 AM.
@Coasterman29- WV is the mayor, in my canon, AR is the chief police, head of all the police, and I believe PM is the Post Mistress, she runs all the Post offices, etc. WQ could be WV's adviser, I guess? And in my canon, WK is the head Librarian of the Alternian Library.
@Krosp- Your fic is looking really promising so far! I actually want an alive Aradia in my canon, and I can't wait to see the rest of your story. : )
@zebtrestalala- Keep up the great work with the Ampora files, it's turning into a really amazing fanfiction! I can't wait to read more.
Also, I have a short intermission in my character development arcs. The Alternia City Police Department is facing an Internal Review. Unfortunately, I'm still mentally hammering out details so it's gonna be a while before I write it.
WQ was the previous leader of the city. She hangs around to help out the less-experienced WV.
Maybe used to be Queen and made reforms towards DEMOCRACY? Maybe succeeded the more tyrannical BQ?
The Monarchs need more love.
BK: Ruled alongside BQ, wielded a (now destroyed) scepter of immense magical power. Was in charge of secret police and other 'direct' methods of oppression.
I like the idea of WQ being the previous monarch. I actually play WK on the RPDA and I have him as the head curator of the Alternian Repository of Knowledge (ARK), a big library/museum hybrid that keeps getting heist-ed.
Also, title card to commemorate Karkat's new position:
CG: YOU FUCKERS NEED PEOPLE LIKE ME TO POINT YOUR GRUBBY LITTLE HANDSAUSAGES AT AND SAY THAT'S THE GRAND POOBAH OF LOWLIEST FUCKERDOM.
CG: SO SAY GOOD NIGHT TO MISTER SHITBAGS.
TG: im only gonna rep this shit once kk
TG: dont fuck with me
TG: totally serious
TG: not being ironic for shit
TG: dont you ever try to fuck with me
TG: cause you fuck with one you fuck with all of us
TG: gonna bring a whole fucking army down upon your plush rump
TG: coming down from the heavens like a thief in the night
TG: carbonized steel fury everywhere you look
TG: no escape from the four walls of fate
TG: total clone orgy of chaos and mayhem
TG: so dont fuck with me if you want it to be the last thing you do
((finally from Skype))
==>Karkat: Equip the Little Friend
The name is actually misleading, as it's one of the larger and sharper sickles that you own. But whatever. These little cockroaches want to play, and you're hardly going to deny them the opportunity.
Land of Highways and Construction (Mississauga, Ontario)
Re: TROLL!COPS: The AU
Ok, here is a fic about CASEY!!!!!!
Kind of a mixture of her good and bad sides. Actually, that's what it's about!
Salamental Part 1
"Hello, my little girl," John said as Casey walked into their apartment.
Casey, a 14 year old Salamander had just gotten back from the local clothing shop with her friend Viceroy. She had bought herself her favourite brand of clothes, "Alternian Eagle," and got some bedsheet and black and purple hoodies. John noticed Casey was acting up again.
"Ccccc.....Ccccc.... Nyea nyea!" She hissed and barked.
"Wait one second, there," John said, giving Casey a pill.
She swallowed it and almost instantly stopped acting strange. Casey had a strange and rare disorder called Alternian Animal Mind Disorder, which would turn off Casey self control and thought off every once and a while. It was hard for Casey to live in a place like a city, for most people would make fun of her, calling her a "freak." Viceroy really was her only friend other than her dad, and those random nice people.
Her dad went over to a calendar. Part of something her Dad would do was to write down whenever she had a spasm on a calendar to show the doctor on her monthly visits to the hospital. Casey didn't understand too well about this, or even what was wrong with her. Casey's favorite part of the hospital was nurse Kanaya. Nurse Kanaya understood how Casey felt, not just about her disorder. Barely anyone else understood Casey, her thoughts being morphed into nightmares every time she had a spasm. It would leave her scared for a while afterwords, and she would be depressed.
"Dad?....." she said, a sense of fear in her voice's tone.
"I...I'm scared....," Casey replied, lying on the couch and starting to cry.
"Everything is ok," John said.
"Oh? duty calls," John said, the Egbertman symbol flashing on it, "Be right back!"
Casey thought having a superhero for a dad was pretty cool, Casey thought, but she also was worried, what if this time was the last? What if he got hurt? What if he didn't come back? These were some of Casey's dark thoughts. In a gang infested city, you would need to be careful if you weren't a superhero.
A few weeks later...
"Casey? Casey!/ Casey!?!!" John was yelling.
"Oh, no, she must've ran away!"
This wasn't the first time Casey had ran away out of deppresion, but usually John could find her in just one flight over the city. John's heart sank. He was also very worried about Casey; not only that she was in a gang infested city, but her disorder made her a big danger.
"The Trollcops! They can find Casey!"
John picked up the phone, Chief AR answered the phone.
Hello, this is John Egbert calling,"
"Yes, my daughter Casey has ran away, and I can't find her,"
"Don't worry, we will have our best two cops on it, we remember the past incidents, and she can be a threat, we will find her."
I need some help with the RGB colour thing, won't show up for some reason....
Last edited by Coasterman29; 06-20-2011 at 05:09 PM.
You don't remember why you were in a dumpster, really. You actually don't remember very much on that particular day. Probably because it was the first day that you had gone around with actual limbs instead of wriggling around as a grub. That's pretty darn young. It's impressive that you can even remember back that far. It was an important day, though, so it stands to reason you would remember it clear as a kinda foggy day.
It was the day that Nepeta found you.
She dug you out of the dumpster and held you in her arms like you were some kind of new toy. She quickly learned that you were indeed a real life troll when you started sniffling. Of course, this was before you had learned the emotion known as anger, which would later become your default emotion. Back then, you were more or less just really confused.
But not scared. No way. You were never scared. No sirree. Why would you have been scared? Ha! You weren't scared. Not in a million years. Yeah. Aha...
Anyways, Nepeta startled babbling at you for a few minutes about cats or something, eventually deciding to take you home with her so that she would be able to keep talking in your general direction. She kept going on and on and on about how she would feed you and love you and call you Karkat and play games with you and paint your face and that you would just love your new big brother. He was tall and brave and had tons of blankets and she was certain he would have one in your favorite color to sleep in.
At the time you were too young and stupid to realize what she was saying, so you don't actually remember her saying any of that. But you'd be hard pressed to say that she didn't mean exactly what she said about taking you home with her and apparently adopting you as her new baby brother. That day was also the day you would meet Gamzee for the first time.
Before things went wrong.
Sometimes you wonder what you would choose if you were placed in that situation now. Would you go along with it like you did when you were a toddler? Or would you refuse because it had been different from what you were used to, and be just the stubborn stick in the mud you are now?
Actually, you know what? Scratch that. You would definitely go along with it if you had the choice.
You love your family to pieces.
At this point, the Arbitratorial Referee stops you in your tracks. He says boy, I'm as curious about how you lived your life in a cardboard box as much as the next guy, but this doesn't tell me anything about why you did what you did.
You say yeah yeah yeah. You're getting to that. Yeesh, can't a guy set up some atmosphere or something? It's not like a bomb is going to go off if you don't finish your story within the next hour.
Then there was an argument between you and the AR that eventually degenerated into him smacking his gavel on his desk repeatedly while you whined about inequality in the courtroom. It's like your dad said, everyone hates trolls, even other trolls. Wisest words you ever heard.
At that point the AR stops you and asks what you mean by "dad". Were you lying about what you said earlier with those other two trolls? Now why in the world would you lie about that? You were right, the AR was just like your dad; never let you do anything without accusing you of something.
Right about then the AR asked you just who your "dad" was supposed to be. And he expected you to tell the truth. So you told him that your dad was an evil Dersite. This made the Dersites in the Jury automatically begin to yell at you for labeling their kind as evil.
Then you told them to SHUT YOUR MOUTHS YOU WEREN'T DONE YET. Gosh, can't anyone let you finish any of your sentences today? Then Prospitian accused you of at least having a strained relationship with this so-called evil Dersite father.
Okay, so maybe you shouldn't call him evil. After all, unlike almost everybody else that came across your little family's cardboard box of a house, he actually approached you and investigated just what in the blue blazes was up with a cardboard box in the middle of an alleyway with the words "AR HOWSE" written on it in big white Troll Language.
He had chosen to come at night on a rainy day, so as to ensure that the least amount of people were around. Possibly. You know what, you never really knew what was going on in his head that day, or any other day after you met for that matter. As far as you can tell or care, he just showed up about two weeks after you settled into your cardboard home at an inopportune moment and woke you up.
You had been cranky that he bugged you. What was his deal? Couldn't he see that you, Nepeta and Gamzee were sleeping here? Well, obviously not, since by now only Gamzee was still asleep. And since the oldest was too busy being useless to tell him to go away, and Nepeta had only just woken up and starting to get her bearings, it was up to you, the youngest of the three, to stand up for you and your rightful cardboard property like a real troll would
ASFASGHAERGAEHAEIB HEY WHAT ARE YOU DOING LET GO.
YOU SAID LET GO!
Yup, you're pretty sure your relationship with him was off to a pretty good start.
Root of the Litter
That last panel. So cute! I love your drawings of these AR's wig. LOL, I love it~ I'm looking forward to the next chapter!
The Ampora Files: Case 124
I don't know how I didn't guess Mr. Pupa. I haven't the slightest idea. But I didn't. I thought it was the Strider boys all along, but that scene still made me smile And that was very intense and I am excited for the next chapter! :O
@Ra Zarudo: I like that color much better! Thank you for telling me; I've gone back and fixed the broken colors on the earlier chapters xD Plus: Culler fanfiction yes! Well, PI Ampora fanfiction featuring the Culler, which is still a yes.
@Redbird: Thank you! I really like live!Aradia~ I've always kind of pictured her as a super-hero or something. But that is another story for another time and I have new Chapters, which are... once again, entirely too long. XD
How do you guys write short fics? I must have some of this wisdom diffused into my system. I ask this as a serious question if anyone would like to share their secrets with me~ :P
Is that what you thought I was doing? Well, I must say I’m flattered by this reputation, but your timeline business makes me dizzy, so I don’t plan to jump to a moment where I am, well, executing a favorite hobby of mine. I mean filling out paperwork, of course! Sweet, sweet vanilla paperwork. It would just be silly to enjoy orchestrating the demise of the wicked. Even bad guys have souls, emotions, stories--engineering their demise is no more than a sad and heart-breaking necessity for society to function.
It is also incredibly satisfying.
At the moment some fourth wall being directed you to my perspective--(me being Officer Pyrope, partner of Officer Grumpy McMustardpants--er, I mean, Appleberry Blast--grr... Sollux)--I was only indirectly orchestrating the heartbreaking demise of the heartbreakingly wicked. Timelines and all their variations certainly make my think pan throb, and my current side investigation--(don’t tell my partner about this; I mean, he’s a decent cop and should suspect I’m up to something, but this criminal is mine, all mine)--was taking down the Strider Mafia. By “mine” I mean mine to bring to justice, no more! Not that I suspected Captor of all people to be competition for anything else.
Strider is the timeline guy. I had gathered enough information from S.E.E.R. and other such public entities that didn’t require a boss hacker for access to learn that all the Striders were one guy that had time-traveling powers. I’m sure S.E.E.R. is aware. It’s obvious. The only reason anyone would pretend that it was not obvious would be because they were bored and to see the obvious would make an investigation no fun. As with all things Strider Mafia, I needed proof of this obvious fact, and I was sure S.E.E.R. did not have the proof necessary to make a public statement. If I could find Alpha Strider, the Strider of the present moment, I was certain I could make an arrest and bring the whole candy-red-suited outfit behind bars. I’ve never needed a good reason to actually arrest someone, just a reason, and I’m sure at least one Strider has jaywalked before. My correspondence with various Striders had been largely entertaining, but left me with mostly dead ends, as far as the Mafia itself was concerned. However, most Striders were surprisingly forthcoming informants. Their/his motive was difficult to determine. Was he trying to monopolize crime in the city by getting all other criminals arrested, or was his vigilanteeism as justice-concerned as my professionalism? Alright. I admit it. I was obsessed with my case because everyone knew exactly zip about this shades-wearer. I knew exactly zip, too, after all the hard hours I wouldn’t get back, except that one of him was at my crime scene that morning. I had sniffed out this particular Strider, and scheduled lunch with him, and without my partner, to find out why any Striders were there.
“Trying to figure me out, Pyrope?” he asked as I sat down at the small, dark green outdoor table and leaned my cane against the grated chair. “You’re not gonna. I am the lone wolf who bays at the full moon, ‘Watch out, bro; I am the next big thing to take over that sky,’ and soon all those big packs of hunting she-wolves, like you, Pyrope, will scream my name for all the world to hear. Still, they will never fly quite high enough to follow this king of the sky before I slip into a new phase, and my bright, shining face waxes to black as hell. Sorry to disappoint. But I’ll hand it to you for trying. You keep at it. I tolerate the attention.”
“You aren’t the full moon yet?” I asked, mocking horror, “Then why should I hunt for you?”
“Nah, the man in the moon is Alpha Dave, and all the Division Beta ladies chasing after him keep him on a pretty tight schedule. You’re already settling for just one crater, he’s in so demand, since you looked for me, and found me, and here I am, your servant.”
“Yes, Dave,” I sighed, somewhat annoyed, “We are here, and you are right--not that I’m settling for a doomed Dave, but that I sniffed your candy suit out specifically. I’m not looking for the Alpha, today.” I jabbed him on the shoulder, “You, this Dave here under my finger, were at my crime scene this morning. Why?”
“Couldn’t I just be scoping out competition for your time?” he asked, casually hitting my hand away, “which is better spent on, you know, the Strider Mafia case?” His vanilla face was as always unreadable beneath the cherry Dr. Pepper glow of his iShades. I smiled, “Aw, do you like me, Dave?”
“You’re pretty savvy,” he replied.
“That is quite sweet, Dave,” I told him, folding my hands in my lap, “And also not the reason you were at the scene of my double homicide this morning.” I showed him all of my teeth, a gesture to show my pleasure and perfect sincerity, naturally, “I believe your flattery is genuine, and sweet, and I believe that you phrased your potential alibi as a question because you know exactly what I am about to remind--”
“You can smell lies,” he interrupted with a wave of his hand, “You can’t blame a guy for trying.”
“I will make reservations on my blame,” I offered, “for your failed attempt on one condition.” My teeth, again I revealed, “That you tell me what I do not know about this case.” I sealed my lips coyly and crossed one leg, “I will even permit that you keep your motivation to yourself. Do we have a deal?”
“What, no. What kind of deal is that?” he asked, crossing his arms. “Sorry, Pyrope, but a man’s gotta keep a few secrets to himself. I can’t tell you anything on this one without revealing why Alpha Dave sent me--it’s all motive this time.”
“You could tell me what he wanted to know,” I argued reasonably, “without telling me your findings. I think that will keep up your coolkid aura of mystery sufficiently in combination with your sunglasses that so cruelly hide your eye color from me.” I winked.
“No deal this time Pyrope,” he held his ground. “Our time’s up.”
“Your order’s not here yet!” I told him, aghast, as he stood and reached for the red suit jacket hung on the back of his chair. He was undeterred, and continued pulling it onto first one arm, then the other. “What?” he said, but did not make sound like a question, “Nice try. I didn’t order anything.”
“One lowly and desperate she-wolf purchased a tall, cold apple juice and some nourishing orange creamsicles for a sweet-smelling lone wolf. I don’t know who either of these howling mongrels are, but there’s a waiter with their order heading this way,” I told him plaintively.
“Oh man, my weakness. Creamsicles are crap, though. They’re poison for your body.” He put his hands onto the rim of his dark green chair once more, “But I can’t say no to apple juice.”
“Excellent,” I replied, relaxing in my own seat, “Because the orange crapsicles were actually for me.”
“Don't say I didn't warn you when that sugar gives you alien diabetes and tentacles start to wriggle out your ears or something,” he said, sitting again, suit jacket still on. He smelled much better, as its color was simply Justice to my nose. The Strider Mafia was a nostacle in itself. “Now what I don’t understand, Dave,” I continued as he put his delicious-smelling elbows on the table, “Is why you’re doing Alpha Dave favors.”
“He’s the Alpha and he’s me. I wouldn‘t trust anybody else to give me orders,” he replied, sweeping back his hair. Oh crap. A thousand oh craps upon a thousand holy craps, why hadn’t I recorded that statement. I cursed my foresight as he continued, almost psychically, “Oh, I just confirmed your little hypothesis, right? Yea, we’re all Dave Strider, not clones 4, 5, and 3000 with Strider DNA. Did you come here bugged? I know you wish you could replay my every word. It’s a woman thing.”
“I did not, Dave,” I replied with a smile, concealing my distress, as there were still two unsolved and barely identified murder victims who needed me to bring them justice, “but you suddenly seem a little less mysterious. Thanks for the secret.”
“You bought me apple juice. It’s the least I could do,” he said, unfettered by my jab, “Keep going like this and I might take my shades off for you.”
“If it would comfort you to be the Dave that showed me his eye color before you die, you may do that.”
“Ouch. Low blow, and when I’m being nice, too.” Bingo.
“So you are a doomed Dave?” I asked, “The Alpha has ordered you to your death?”
“It has to be done,” he said mechanically, “I’m an offshoot timeline, so it’s not like Dave is really dying any time soon. I live on, immortal, thanks to time travel. Want me to tell your fortune, Pyrope? Assuming you're still trying to unravel the mystery which blankets this badass vigilantee a few years from now, I could check and get back to you in a flash.”
“Yet,” I argued, “You personally will experience death, whatever form Alpha Dave’s destined for you, and he will be this Dave who lives on, completely unaffected by your personal loss.”
“Like I said, it has to be done,” he replied, “Someone’s got to keep the timeline in check.”
“What threat is Alpha Dave taking out by killing you, and how do you know it’s worth a dead Strider?” I pounced. Metaphorically; he wasn’t the Alpha, after all, so I was very easily able to restrain myself. For justice’s sake, I’m not desperate. Usually.
“Whoa, calm down, Pyrope.” I grinned. I was getting somewhere at last. “I’m him and he’s me,” this Dave floundered, “We’ve got the same brain. I think like him. And, yea, it’s totally worth it to protect our reign as time-benders for me to die.”
“Your monopoly is being threatened, it sounds like,” I said, keeping the sinking feeling in my stomach out of my tone. If it was this complex to keep an eye on one Strider Mafia, which only now was I starting to decode, I didn’t want to imagine what keeping another time-traveling Mafia from crime would be like, though I could. It smelled like chaos, destruction, and worst of all, like I’d actually have to share my project with Captor. Maybe even Officer Megido.
“I didn’t say that,” he retorted.
“But it’s true,” I responded knowingly, having spent too much time with Daves, and people in general, not to know truth from lie and understatement from exaggeration, “Your job is to keep this other time-traveler out of Strider business, then?”
“You want to know what happened at the crime scene?” he asked, throwing his hands in the air, “Okay, now I’m making you a deal. Stop asking about this time crap you can’t understand. I was at the crime scene because of one of the dead trolls.”
“Which one, the grub or the John Doe?” I asked, taking the bait, which wasn’t really bait. I’d hoped our conversation would come to this from the start, though I hadn't expected to extract so much personal information from him beforehand.
“The grub,” he replied, “whose name is Rufio Summoner, which you probably knew from goggles girl since you didn’t call him your John Doe. And here’s why he’s my business.” He leaned forward, “Wrong. Timeline.”
“He’s from another time?” I asked, horrified, and showing it, because these words smelled true. I wanted to doubt. But doom had made this Dave honest. From what I knew of the situation and of this suspect, I couldn’t be surprised by the possibility. “When?” was the only other question I could think to ask.
“This is why I made the Mafia,” he told me gravely, “There’s a bigger picture you cops can’t even begin to smell around because you only know what’s happening while you’re happening, right now. I’ve got a way bigger mess to clean up, believe it or not, than you do.”
“Did you clean this one up with four stab wounds?” I asked him bravely, though the sinking feeling returned a third time to my stomach as I remembered the innocent infant face, large bullbeast horns, and smell of the color brown everywhere. “I do not have proof and cannot arrest you if this is the case. You can tell me.”
“Don‘t worry” he said with a simple shake of his head, “Not the case. Future Daves are pretty much obsessed with their crappy swords, which start getting moderately less crappy a few Daves after me, but no fancy sword work killed that kid. Your medical examiner could tell you that. Smell me over; I‘m not bluffing.”
“I believe you,” I replied, smiling genuinely, “However, if you’re offering I wouldn’t mind taking a closer whiff.”
“Maybe some other time,” said he, though I was too relieved to tell if he was being sarcastic or not. “I don’t know what advice to give you about Rufio’s murder, and I don’t know who killed him, but good luck. If that matters.”
“Luck doesn’t matter,” I replied. I grabbed my cane and stood. “But I’ll take your tips into consideration.”
“Good, they should help,” he said, and stood as well. “Now, I’ve gotta run.”
“I thought you said you wanted to take your shades off for me!”
“Not a chance. Smell ya later, Pyrope.”
==> Reader: Stop abandoning Captor and that cripple. They deal with enough without you.
You could say that again. I found out in a few moments that the kid with the bandage and the wheelchair was as innocent as he looked, but twice as wounded.
“Tavros,” shouted the missing officer as she scuttled into my view and smacked him on the shoulder. “Why didn’t you wait for me? You are so selfish and a jerk, too.”
“I, uh, well, I’m sorry, Vriska,” he sputtered, wincing more as she put her hands on the handles of his wheelchair than he had when she’d hit him. I thought I felt bad for the kid a few moments ago. No. Now I really felt bad.
“Girlfriend?” I asked him monotonously. He nodded. I wouldn’t have told the cop I was dating his sociopath co-worker either.
“Well, not for long if he doesn’t learn how to wait for me! I mean, gog, he’s crippled; how slow could I possibly be in comparison to him? Oh gog, my head hurts.”
“Not that your man’s head isn’t bandaged or anything,” I defended him.
“Shut up! Our relationship is none of your business. Gog, do you know how much I’ve had to do for him today? My head, my head. Gog.”
“Vriska, uh, are you okay?” he asked, “You, uh, are hurting me, a lot more than, well, normal.”
“Just shut up, Nitram, okay? Shut up. I am so much stronger than you are it’s not even funny; you could never, ever hold irons to my hands or blow my arm off or take out my eye, and you suck at mind games. You suck at them, Nitram, you suck!” Whoa. That was weirdly specific. It seemed like a bad idea to interrupt them, so I continued to stand there awkwardly, unsure of when I’d see her if her boyfriend was sick. What if she took time off to take care of him? Or beat him up. My priority was my case. I’d have to say something at some point.
“No, Vriska, that’s, uh, I mean, yes, you are absolutely right. Do you--”
“Let’s just go home,” she cut him off. “You got a problem, Captor? Just going to stand there and watch two people fight? Or are you going to stop being a creep and move so I can wheel him home?”
“I need to talk to you about my case,” I said. “You said you wouldn’t help us anymore, but Miss Peixes said you asked her about Ampora.”
“Yea, well, Jegus, Captor, I am a woman. I have the prerogative to change my mind, okay? So I helped you,” she groaned, dramatically holding her face in her robotic hand.
“I assume you were going to tell us what she said at some point.”
“I got distracted okay! Geez, so paranoid, lispo,” she replied, “She said Ampora was there, yea, and that he was protecting her from the John Doe, who she didn’t recognize.”
“Captor, I know you don’t have Lady Sniff-and-Scratch with you to tell you if I’m lying, but I’m not, okay? I helped you, so how about a, ‘Wow, gee thanks, Vriska, for being such a trolltarian and helping me out with my case by talking to that glubbing excitable sea-freak.’”
“Trolltarians are cannibals,” I retorted, “But thank you. Pyrope and I can take it from here. Is that all Miss Peixes said?”
“Yes, Captor! Now I’ve got an injured matesprit who is a cripple and needs a nap, so if you could go find a ditch to die in instead of standing in my way, that’d be really really great.” She paused and I took a step back. “Move!” I took a bigger step back, and they wheeled through the sliding glass doors. Poor Mr. Nitram looked terrified.
I contacted Pyrope on the walkie-talkie. “Pyrope, this is Captor. Come in, Pyrope.”
“This is Pyrope,” her voice crackled through the bad reception, “Sup, sup, Captor?”
“Oh gog, you were talking to another Dave, weren’t you? Well, please at least say he gave you another lead for the case.”
“No new leads. Ampora’s our guy, Captor; we just need proof. But I did get some more information on the grub, and that information basically is that we’re not going to find anything more than we’ve found unless Officer Megido coughs something up.”
“Time stuff, huh? Well, Eridan was at the crime scene, but Miss Peixes told Serket that he was protecting her from the John Doe, apparently. I‘ve got a lunch date now to see if he‘s as upstanding a citizen as our lack of information on him suggests.”
“Excellent. It’s possible Ampora was protecting Miss Peixes from some threat,” said Pyrope, “but that would still not excuse him from killing a grub. I’m fairly sure he was in some sort of scuffle.”
“Thanks for mentioning that to your partner, the guy with the gun who drives you everywhere and is supposed to be able to trust you with his life.”
“Sorry, Captor; it was very awkward and embarrassing and I wasn’t sure how relevant a detail it was. Remember how Ampora kept fidgeting on his cape, and how he stood up for his interview. He smelled like he’d just been in a wild rumpus, and had his butt kicked.”
“Okay, you know how I just thanked you?” I replied, disgusted, “That was a literal thank you, like, I really never wanted to know that about Ampora or ever think about his hindquarters, ever.” Dr. Maryam suddenly appeared from the other side of the desk and nodded to me civilly, but smiling. She totally had just heard me say that. My luck is awesome.
“Well, that’s why I didn’t tell you, Captor!” Pyrope fired back at me, “But now you know. There was a kerfuffle of a scuffle since Ampora wasn’t buff-le.”
“And yet his muscles are bigger than mine?”
“Yes. But that’s alright, Captor, you will always have me to beat up bad guys for you,” she replied brightly.
“Thanks a ton, Pyrope. Thanks a ton. I’m starving. See you at two. Captor out.” I pocketed the walkie-talkie and headed for the Mindless Honeybun Bakery, where I was paying for two.
@Krosp: Me? Well, I just think of whatever crossover comes to mind.
Speaking of cheap crossovers... Troll!Cops Superkids: The Spinoff Series
Being locked up hasn't stopped Mr. Pupa from being a criminal mastermind. So when he seizes control of the Veil and threatens to unleash havoc upon Alternia City, it's up to The Breeze to break into jail and stop him. And in order to break into the Veil, he'll have to get help from the only person ever to break out: Hass Harley.
Moneyquote: "Back when I was in the Veil, I was the big man. Hass the Rock, they called me."
The Long Four-Thirteen
On the eve of the anniversary of Alternia City's founding, the Midnight Crew find themselves poised to take the throne as the city's most powerful gang...and SeppuCrow himself is determined to stop it with his allies Commissioner AR and Officers Sollux and Terezi. But in the mere span of twelve hours: 6:12 pm to 6:12 am, their war on crime will change all of their lives. All of them. And not always for the better.
Moneyquote: "I've given my life, my lisp and b0th my eyes and pers0nalities t0 protecting this city...but the 0nly thing I've learned is that the 0nly thing y0u can c0unt 0n...is CH4NC3."
((Because I've yet to see a Blackout!Sollux fic here. ))
Since my story is a mix of words and pictures, the chapters are bound to be kinda short. But in a pure writing medium, the best way to be short is to know the ending, and start at the middle instead of the beginning.
I think you need to be using hexadecimal colours instead. This website might help with that - you should be able to input the RBG values and get their hexadecimal equivalent instead.
By the way, I like the idea of Casey being raised by John and Rose and seeing them as her parents. I'd say you need to do a little more telling and less showing, but this is a first chapter introducing a new concept, so I think a lot of exposition is acceptable.
Ach! Hans, run! It's the lhurgoyf! AVGN Quote of the Moment-I-Have-Time-To-Update-It: "When we heard that a Ghostbusters game for Nintendo was coming out, we were so excited, we shit our pants! Literally, shit came out our asses and we rocketed through the roof! "
Welp. I think we all kinda saw this coming from my title card a few posts up.
I'm sorry. If you haven't seen what this fic is referencing, go look for the "last 10 minutes" on YouTube or something because it implies some really obvious spoilers.
A Long Way Down
It's raining outside, but that doesn't matter.
You've done it. You've reached the top.
You've done what no lowblood could ever do. You've hacked and slashed your own slice of the city, complete with an empire funded on the sales of ILLEGAL items, an army of henchmen and your only real friends of the world in tow. Naturally, that means you've left quite a few corpses in your wake. Like Mr. Pupa, the guy that originally hired you and thought he could leave you for dead. You ended up leaving him quite dead yourself. But you've also made yourself a few new friends. Like your new suppliers, the Strider Mafia.
Now you've got a vault full of boonbonds, a nice big pile of "miragrug" for your own personal stash (despite the obvious advice), and a decorative shelf full of sickles. You still don't quite get why you ditched your sicklekind specibus for it, but gogdamn does it compliment that 100-inch plasma screen in a matching cabinet.
Yeah, you've got all of the luxuries. All of them. And a few problems, too.
Like that little issue of Officer Terezi Pyrope sniffing the money all the way to the source - more metaphorically than literally, for once. And that tiny problem of pissing off the entire Strider Mafia by whacking one of their "Beta" clones as a way of refusing to kill one of your closest contacts in the force to try to scare her off the trail. Along that closest contact's mayoral secretary wife AND their first-hatched grub. You're a violent, ornery bastard but you don't kill grubs. That would be fucking unconscionable.
Didn't stop you from getting an angry call threatening vengeance from none other than the Alpha Dave himself.
But those are just small problems, right? You've just had a really, really, bad day. You figure he can just sleep it off after another quick dose of the miragrug and then deal with it in the morning.
Like that crazy billboard for some AeroZardo or whatever the name of that airline was said: The world is yours.
If only for a night.
Just you, you vault full of boonbonds, a nice big pile of "miragrug" on the table, and your scantily-clad pet cat.
(==>Karkat: Wonder why your pet cat is scantily clad and about to lose her shit.)
That's Nepeta, silly. One of your only real friends. She's scantily clad because you had to drag her here from halfway across town while she kicked and screamed all the way. You even had to dope her up a bit to calm her shit.
Speaking of which, she's about to subsequently lose her shit because the reason she was kicking and screaming was you had your other only real friend strangle her cop moirail to death in a sobriety-induced rage for disloyalty while she watched and told you that they actually had a flushed relationship.
Yeah, that's not gonna earn you any favors with the police department any time soon. But at least he looked like he enjoyed it.
The cop, that is.
AC: :33 > karkitty~
AC: :33 > *ac saunters in, wearing only an elegant blue nightgown. her tail slinks back and forth so invitingly!*
CG: NEP WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU WEARING?
AC: X33 > i put this on just fur you, karkat!
AC: X33 > *ac saunters efur closer, her hips swaying from side to side*
CG: JEGUS FUCK NEP ARE YOU HIGH.
CG: NO SCRATCH THAT, YOU ARE APPARENTLY BALLS TRIPPINGLY STONED OUT OF YOUR ALREADY FERAL MIND.
CG: LIKE YOU WENT TO TIBET AND ATE A WHOLE BAG OF CATNIP AND DISCOVERED A SUPERVILLAINOUS PLAN TO BLOW UP ALTERNIA HALF AN HOUR AGO.
CG: I THINK IT'S TIME AC TOOK A CATNAP.
Of course, it's a lot easier to put this crazy scantily-clad cattroll to nap when she's not balls-trippingly stoned out of her already feral mind. Naturally, an invitation to do one thing only invites the opposite reaction.
AC: XOO > nyaoooooooooo!
CG: GOGDAMMIT NEPETA GO TO BED SERIOUSLY YOU'RE GIVING ME A BONE BULGE THE SIZE OF...WAIT WHY AM I TALKING ABOUT MY BLOSSOMING BONE BULGE.
AC: 833 > come on karkitty! i'm your purrrrfect playmate nao! let's have some fun!
AC: :33 > *ac unsh33ths those sapphire claws Karkat had crafted just fur her*
CG: NEPETA, THOSE ARE JUST FOR DECORATION, I THINK IT'S BEST IF YOU JUST PUT THEM THE FUCK AWAY RIGHT NOW.
CG: I DON'T FEEL LIKE FLARPING AT THIS OH GOG-
AC: X33 > *ac pounces at her prey, her fangs gleaming in her lustful bid to sate her hungrrr!*
CG: OH GOG MY LEG YOU TORE RIGHT THROUGH THE SUIT, GOGDAMMIT DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I PAID TO HAVE ONE MADE IN MY SIZE?
AC: : DD > oh don't f33l that way karkitty! you know you've always had redrom feelings for me!
AC: XDD> *ac slinks her way up kk's body, dragging her paws and claws up your arm in affection!
CG: AAAAAAAAGH THAT'S IT GET THE FUCK OFF ME
AC: X33 > you know you want m33333333333hngh-
You push her off with as much strength as your miragrug-addled body will allow...and right into the slashing path of what appears to be a Dave Strider having infiltrated your room via that giant window right behind your seat. Any frustration related to leaving that window unlocked is quickly dissipated when you feel a warm slash of green blood splatter onto your torn suit, before that Dave gently pushes her off his cheap sword like a burnt kebab.
(==>Draw your trusty sidearm and flip the fuck out.)
You don't have a gun. But in your sudden burst of shock you do draw your trusty sidesickle and tear that Dave a whole bunch of new ones before pushing him out the window and off the balcony. The dead clone lands right next to your only living real friend, who has been wandering about the expansive back yard in the rain for reasons you'd rather not give a damn about what with the Strider Mafia attacking you in your own inner sanctum.
CG: GAMZEE OH MY GOG THANK JEGUS THEY HAVEN'T VICIOUSLY JULIENNED YOU
TC: WhAt? FuCk YoU bAbBlIn' bOuT bRo? AnD wHy'S tHeRe A dRoPpIn A DaVe On tHe lAwN?
CG: OH GOG YOU CAN'T BE.
Gamzee smiles up at you like he totally didn't strangle your friend's cop moirail only a few hours ago, which is actually a bad thing as it implies this is probably worst time for him to have actually gotten back on the wicked shit.
TC: Oh, yOu mEaN bEiNg AlL fUcKeN ChIlL aNd sHiT?
TC: dOn'T wOrRy BoUt It BrO
TC: a LiTtLe MuRdEr MoDe EvErY nOw AnD tHeN iS gOoD fOr Me
TC: HoPe NeP iSn'T sTiLl TrIpPiN bOuT hEr BoY tHoUgH
CG: SPEAKING OF NEP, YOU ENGAGE YOUR MURDER MODE LIKE A MUSCLEBEAST ON METH THIS INSTANT
CG: THEY KILLED NEP AND THE HELL IF THEY'RE GONNA STOP THEIR FRUITY RUMPUS KILLING SPREE UNTIL THEY GOT US TOO
TC: hOlY fUcK wHaT?
CG: DID ALL THAT RED MIST FROM EARLIER MAKE YOU FUCKING DEAF?
CG: NEP IS DEAD! FUCKING DEEP SIXED IN FRONT OF ME!
CG: AND THE FUCKING STRIDERS ARE COMING TO DEEP SEVEN EIGHT AND NINE US!
You're practically wiping ruby tears from his eyes, your usual screaming voice going hoarse as you let it out. But at least something goes your way, as Gamzee spots shadows darting across the bushes given away by the glints of their shades and blades. He draws both of his clubs, and you feel a little less certain that you are going to die. Maybe it's about time for a miracle.
TC: oh that motherfucking settles it
TC: NOBODY KILLS MY FRIENDS BUT ME.
TC: you best get your ass prepared best buddy because
TC: IT'S MOTHERFUCKING GO TIME UP IN THIS-
Of course, Gamzee couldn't finish his excitable sentence either. Not with a Strider appearing out of fucking nowhere and gutting him like a kipper before he could fully re-engage his murder mode. So much for miracles, eh?
There's barely any time to put on your best OMG face let alone appreciate the grisly blue-violet stain on your lawn before you quickly limp back into your office, locking the window and closing the curtains JUST to be safe. You quietly curse yourself out for not having installed those special panic room metal shutters, but that will have to wait for a time when you're not fearing for your life against the collective wrath of a hundred time clones.
(==>Corpsesmooch Nepeta. Maybe her dreamself is still alive.)
Don't be an idiot. This isn't some fantasy conjured up by some hobo with a paint-filled bucket mounted on a mop for a girlfriend. She's dead, and now you have to avenge her by any means necessary. Even if it kills you.
But that doesn't stop you from checking anyway, just in case.
CG: OH GOG NEPETA WAKE UP
CG: FUCKING SPEAK TO ME OR SOMETHING
CG: SAY ONE OF THOSE FURRY THINGS ABOUT ME BEING YOUR PREY OR SOMETHING
CG: DRIVE THOSE SAPPHIRE CLAWS OF YOURS STRAIGHT INTO MY GUT IF YOU HAVE TO
CG: OH FUCK OH FUCK WAKE UP PLEASE GOGDAMMIT
Nope. She's definitely done. Just like Gamzee. And now the rest of her killers are demanding you pay the piper by knocking on your door and busting out in rhyme while you cry like a wriggler.
TG: open up bitch
TG: time to bend over with your mouth wide open
TG: get on your knees and prostrate yourself
TG: and receive a baptism of steel from the lord of destruction
Yeah, so much for little problems. Both your best friends are as dead as last night's dinner, and now you're alone in your office with a vault full of boonbonds, a pile of "miragrug" on the table with a substantial amount clouding your lungs, unfathomable miragrug-induced bloodlust consuming your every thought...and a special shelf full of your finest sickles, some possessing what a certain detective would refer to as scientific properties.
You look at that shelf with a face full of rage, finally thankful that giving up your Sicklekind strife specibus wasn't such a bad idea after all.
(==>Make them say hello to your little friend.)
You equip the LITTLE FRIEND. The name is actually misleading, as it's one of the larger and sharper sickles that you own. But whatever. These little cockroaches want to play, and you're hardly going to deny them the opportunity.
The charged swipe slices right through the door and the set of Daves waiting outside. More charge up the stairs before you even reach the doorway and kick the quartered wood panels aside on their hinges. You're ready for them.
You aggress, and aggress hard from the top of that staircase in front of your office. Dave torsos and formerly-attached limbs thereof fly as you singlehandedly avenge yourself through the aggrievance of your friend's murderers. You can't fend off all the blows, and deflecting them with your bodily mass is pretty fucking painful. But at this point there's no need to worry about how many boonbucks you spent to have that suit of yours fitted to your size. Maybe if you make it through all this you can make a patchwork coat from the dismembered portions of their own bodies.
After fending off enough timeclones to sate the hunger of a medium-sized lusus, however, the aggressing suddenly stops. No, you haven't killed them all and sent their leader a message. The latest wave just wants to stand there, looking up at you, not even in awe of your ability to survive being sliced and diced like a sausage during a knife demonstration on a home shopping network.
(==>Karkat: Taunt them because you can.)
And that's what you do.
CG: WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU ALL STILL STANDING THERE
CG: I DIDN'T NEED THIS SUIT ANYWAY, IT WAS JUST SOMETHING I GOT OFF A CHARITY AUCTION
CG: DO YOU ALL SUDDENLY WANNA LOOK AT YOUR LONG, HARD SHINY METAL INSTRUMENTS OF INCISION
CG: SERIOUSLY, ARE YOU TRYING TO FUCKING BORE ME TO DEATH BECAUSE YOU COULDN'T CHOP ME UP LIKE I DID YOUR FRIENDS
CG: GOGDAMMIT I MIGHT AS WELL SHOOT MYSELF AAH-
Third time's the interrupting charm. A gleaming scimitar pierces right through your gut, punching clean through your lungs and other vital organs before emerging into the light out of your chest, stained with your own bright-red blood. You drop the sickle in an imminently deathly reflex. You don't need to exert the effort to look behind you to find out exactly who that was that killed you.
TG: i warned you not to fuck with me
TG: i told you dog
You can barely speak with all that blood trickling from your mouth. In a cruelly ironic fashion, your blood matches the color of the scarlet ribbitar going through your body. The sword practically seems to absorb your life essence.
With a kick worthy of a Spartan king, Don Strider removes you from his sword and pushes you off the staircase into the fountain pool below with a splash. The water swirled the bright-red blood of your floating corpse. The corpse of the one they said was descended from the Sufferer. The one who, like his ancestor gave up everything just to have what his ancestor could not, only to end up dying face down and alone in a pool of his mutant fluids.
But for a few fleeting moments, the world was really yours.
If only you could have known that while your last thoughts were consumed in an eternal haze of pain from water filling your chest cavity and your blood swirling into the letters "D-E-A-D" around your lifeless corpse.
As your soul seems to leave your body in that pool for wherever the troll afterlife is, it seems that whatever higher power may be has a message for you as you look down and see the surviving Striders clean up the mess.
"This film is dedicated to Howard Hawks and Ben Hecht."
(==>Terezi: Wake the fuck up.)
GC: OH GOG WH4T TH3 FUCK
You are now Officer Terezi Pyrope, and the world is literally yours, because you're in reality, dunkass.
And for a few fleeting moments, you saw - or perhaps smelled what would have happened if it really did, before awakening in utter fright in your apartment. It wasn't easy to stomach, though you don't suddenly clutch stomach out of fear of retching as much as you checks to see that nobody had suddenly run you through with a katana in you sleep. Shit, that felt so real.
Almost too real.
Lately you've been having these kind of nightmares. Where everyone's a little older. Some are richer, some are dead. And from what you can tell, some will end up dead and take a lot of other people with them. Criminal scum evading justice become even worse than criminal scum, and at that point becoming dead criminal scum does nothing for the cause of justice at all.
Maybe it's really some kind of innate sense of foresight. Or you just have to stop renting all these crappy-tasting human action movies from around the time of your wriggling to try to bore yourself to sleep after long nights slurping the vanilla grind. You even left one running all the way to the end, when those spicy subtitles jolted you awake. Gogdamn, this one might have been slightly interesting. But the cherry-red ending titles are beside the point.
It's raining outside.
And before you try to bore yourself back to sleep, you resolve to keep what you just saw from happening.
Yeah, I'm getting too gratuitous here. ;_;
Special thanks to Ash for coming up with the name "miragrug." I imagined it as some evaporated powder-mixture of Faygo and sopor with some extra ILLEGAL ingredients for potency.
Also had the IDE that Terezi's Seer of Mind powers in my headcanon would be passive instead of active.
Last edited by Ra Zarudo; 06-23-2011 at 06:39 AM.
Reason: Forgot the title, lol
Land of Highways and Construction (Mississauga, Ontario)
Re: TROLL!COPS: The AU
Part 2 Salamental! Casey meets Karkat's gang. You can tell my ideas are really insane at times, so here it goes.
Samamental Part 2
Casey was far away from her apartment now, her dad probably worried sick, and when her mom Rose got back from her business trip and found out, Casey didn't want to think about it. She almost felt like going back, but she couldn't, she was lost.
As she walked down a street, a light drizzle started, getting harder and harder until a fully fledged storm. She went into he nearest alleyway to find a female troll, who looked about 20, in the alley. She was in short shorts, a green jacket, a tanktop with the symbol for Leo on it and a beanie. The troll noticed her, and walked up to her.
":33< *Nepeta walks up to the salamander girl, staring at her with her beady eyes, wondering if she is predator or prey,*" the troll said.
":33< Karkitty, Gamzee, come over here!"
Two other trolls, who looked about the same age as the cat troll, in hoodies walked over.
":33< I am Nepeta Leijon, and this is Gamzee Makara and Karkitty Vantas," she said, looking at the troll with stubby horns dreamily as she said "Karkitty."
"Karkat Vantas," he said, looking at Nepeta out of the corner of his eye.
":33< Karkitty is just a little petname for my boyfriend." Nepeta said as she threw her arm around Karkat's neck, both of them smiling.
"Nepeta, you know how uncomfortable that makes me feel when you say it to strangers," Karkat said a little quietly, Nepeta's face turning red, "I didn't say I didn't like it."
"Seems you are lost, want to be with us?"
"Uh, ok, it's not like I have anywhere else to stay," Casey said, a bit shyly, yet happily.
"Officer Zahhak and Captor, we have a case for the two of you," Chief AR said to the two officers.
D--> Do I have to work with the lowb100d? Officer Equius Zahhak said.
"Now Equius, we have talked about this before; don't insult people due to their blood color. I specifically chose the two of you especially for this case," AR said, his voice changing into a more serious mood, "It is that salamander, Casey Von Salamander. She has ran away again and Egbertman can't find her. We have had you arrest her before due to destruction, but this time give her this after you bring her back here."
AR handed Officer Sollux Captor a ziploc bag with a black and white pill in it.
"Tho thiith iith the mediicatiion thhe's on, and we need two giive iit two her, iif thhe iith actiing up when we fiind her?" Officer Sollux asked.
"Exactly, now go and find her," AR said firmly.
It was late back at Karkat's Gang's apartment. Gamzee and Casey were watching TV, while Karkat and Nepeta were on the couch making out. After a long night of TV, sloppy troll make outs on the couch, beers and eating pizza, Casey and Gamzee went to bed while Karkat and Nepeta were still on the couch drunk. Nepeta was licking Karkat's horns while Karkat was in his boxers, until they crashed on the couch.
The next day Casey woke to the sound of Nepeta puking into the toilet.
"Her body doesn't go well with acohol," Karkat told Casey.
"X((< Ugh, why did I do that?"
"how the fuck did you not get drunk when you were only four times times taller than the bottle?" Karkat asked.
"Salamanders mature faster than trolls or humans. The legal drinking for Salamanders even is 13 years old," Casey said.
"Six motherfucking sweeps," Gamzee yelled out of the shower.
"Well, let's get going soon," Karkat said.
"Nyaw! Rawwwrr! Ccccc....Cccc....Nyaw! Nyaw!" Casey barked and hissed.
"What the fuck?"
":33< What is with Casey? She is going insane!" Nepeta yelled.
"What the fuck is going on?" Gamzee said as he came out of the bathroom in a towel.
After thirty minutes of Casey acting up, she finally collapsed on the floor.
"((< Oh no! Is Casey ok?"
"She is breathing, she only passed out," Karkat said, picking Casey up and putting her down on her and Nepeta's bed.
":33< I hope she will be ok," Nepeta said, worried.
The next part will be the final and it will be mostly about Sollux and Equius. Thanks to Captain Lhurgoyf for the colour info. It will be quote dramatic in the end. Let's just say it involves an accident. That is all I will say.
| That's a nice thread you got there |
| Shame if something derailed it |
Land of Highways and Construction (Mississauga, Ontario)
Re: TROLL!COPS: The AU
Ok, I am gonna put in a character which I am gonna be using often, including in Salamental, so this just shows who he is and stuff.
Your Name is Folwar Karatra, and '/ou 9arely 3ver 5ay 4nything, 8ut \/\/hen 'you |)o, 1t 5ounds 5trange. Your Trollslum is mysteriousWolf, which is your prefered use of communication. You are 9 solar sweeps old, making you 19.5 years old to humans.
Your strife decks are Pistolkind and Riflekind, but you don't have a strife deck, you have dual pistols with you and a sniper. You are very skilled at your two weapons. You LOVE headphones and scarfs, and won't be seen without both on. You are very quiet, and rarely talk. You are quite mysterious to almost all of the city, for you are a good guy, but you go do your good, then flee the scene.
You know Officer Equius quite well, and he is one of the only people you talk to. You barely know the rest of the police, yet you have worked with each of them at least once.
Origin story after end of Salamental.
Last edited by Coasterman29; 06-27-2011 at 02:56 PM.
| That's a nice thread you got there |
| Shame if something derailed it |
Bluh i have read about half of the fan-fictions and my brain is dead.
i hope you are happy.
your slowly killing me because of the radiation coming from the computer is eating away at my brain as i sit in front of it 24/7.
and i love you for it.
im sorry your computer cannot comprehend how awesome this signature is.