come·up·pance.
noun \(ˌ)kəm-ˈə-pən(t)s\ : a deserved rebuke or penalty : deserts.
OPEN PESTERLOG
-- arachnidsGrip [AG] began trolling ectoBiologist [EB] --
AG: Joooooooohn.
AG: I wanted to th8nk you for s8ving my 8dorable butt from the Revenge Sq8d back there. ;;;;D
AG: I kn8w they've got you in a t8ght spot right nooooooooow, but I was w8ndering if you'd heard a timefr8me on when they come to their senses????????
AG: ........
AG: John, I kn8w you're there........
EB: yeah.
EB: yeah I am.
EB: I'm just kind of trying to figure out how to respond because I was pretty sure we were never going to talk again.
EB: which I honestly would've liked better than this.
AG: Wh8 in the hell is that supposed to mean????????
EB: to answer your original question I don't have any idea.
EB: we've kind of been debating what to do in general.
EB: and I think the general idea is that we maroon you here, the way you are, and that's that. even feferi's agreeing with it.
AG: Oh th8 sanctimon8us b8tch!!!!!!!!
AG: All riiiiiiiiight, then we need an altern8 pl8n, and I h8ve just the one!
EB: vriska, stop.
EB: stop because I think I can see what you're getting at right now.
EB: and if you think that I'm going to help you get out of there, you're completely wrong.
AG: WH8T?!?!?!?!
EB: yeah I kind of figured you'd react like that.
EB: so I guess I'll just lay everything out.
EB: you stabbed a dude who was supposedly your friend through the heart.
EB: and threw him off a cliff.
EB: and according to pretty much everyone who knows you, that wasn't the first time you did that.
EB: like back in the day, because you were bored or something, you decided you wanted to cripple him.
EB: and then get him to kiss you.
EB: and a whole bunch of insane screwed-up crap that I don't even want to think about, which all culminates in you killing him.
AG: ....J8hnnnnnnnnn, be sm8rt8r than th8s.
AG: Th8y're feed8ng you a b8nch of lies to discred8 me so you w8n't listen.
AG: BEC888888888USE
EB: vriska we wouldn't be having this conversation if I'd just listened.
EB: I demanded to see proof.
EB: wish I hadn't.
EB: I got to see pretty much everything.
EB: and it's really upsetting.
EB: because I really thought you were going to be awesome.
EB: like, from the moment i started talking to you.
EB: "sure she's kind of bossy and has a weird spider thing going, and the mind control thing, and she's kind of obsessed with winning!"
EB: "but she likes nic cage and the color blue and she really helps me out!"
EB: and I actually thought about growing my hair out like con air when you said it, and got really excited to meet you, and I really looked forward to talking to you because you were the awesomest girl I knew.
EB: I kind of thought I loved you.
EB: or or whatever.
EB: and that's the part that's the worst.
EB: is that the vriska serket i was excited to meet never existed, did she?
AG: J8HN SH8T 8P G8DD8MN8
EB: no, you need to let me finish.
EB: because after seeing what you did, after knowing who you really are, I can't really be anything but afraid of you.
EB: you don't even act like a person.
EB: you killed someone because you got tired of them, crippled them because they were annoying.
EB: killed and hurt a whole bunch of other people because how dare they get in vriska serket's way?
EB: and then you acted like they were in the wrong when they remembered how you were!
EB: and I don't know if you were fooling yourself or if you really didn't get it!
EB: all I know is that that isn't how a hero acts. that isn't how anyone I'm friends with acts.
EB: that's how a monster acts.
EB: how much difference is there between you and jack noir?
EB: goodbye, vriska.
EB: don't talk to me again.
--ectoBiologist [EB] has permablocked arachnidsGrip [AG]--
Yeah I don't even fucking know there is so much wrong with this. John is not right and Vriska folded too easily and bluh bluh.
I hope the title doesn't put people off, it's...well, shit, it is a revenge fic I guess. But it's a reasonable one? Realistic at least? Cause honestly...John's a kid who loves heroes and black and white morality and good guys winning. His girlfriend threw her previous love interest off a cliff for fun. If he ever finds out...WELP.
And I think, honestly, that's what Vriska really deserves: to know someone really thought highly of her, even loved her, and then to find things she did ruined that feeling in them.
Oh. Snap.
That was awesome.
In dedication to Nepeta Leijon: The best meowrail anyone could ask for AO3TindeckTumblr
Okay so i've seen this recent influx of crossover fics and...well...
Courtstuck
OPEN PESTERLOG
-- burgerSpirits [BS] began pestering takeThat [TT] --
BS: nick
BS: niiiiick
TT: What now, Maya?
TT: Today's my day off, leave me alone.
BS: pshaw, yeah right :P
BS: anyways i got this REALLY COOL new game!
TT: ...Congrats? Why tell me?
BS: because it needs more than one person to play and i dont know anyone else with a computer
TT: Do I have to?
TT: Today was my day off and I was gonna go get groceries.
BS: FORGET THE FOOD ITS TIME FOR GAAAAMESS!!!
burgerSpirits [BS] sent Sburb client.EXE
burgerSpirits [BS] sent Sburb server.EXE
TT: Sburb?
TT: What kinda game is it?
BS: i dunno
TT: OBJECTION!
TT: How do you know if this game is awesome if you don't know anything about it?!
BS: i gotta hunch
BS: an AWESOME hunch!
BS: pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease
TT: Alright, fine.
TT: Jeez you're pushy.
BS: yaaaay!
BS: get back to me when you install everything
BS: youll be my server ok?
God I can't stay mad at Noir.
He's just.
He's like when a tiny puppy murders a squirrel and brings the corpse into your house as a present to you and it's wagging its tail and is SO PROUD of itself.
Then it goes into your house, tears your couch apart, and shits on all of your carpets.
@LinguisticDoctor: that was really good. Speaking as a Vriska fan I would hope that in canon she gets a chance (and makes the choice) to redeem herself, but your story is proof that it's actually pretty satisfying seeing even characters you enjoy meet the consequences of their actions. Your Vriska is pretty much spot-on, and while normally I would say your John is a bit serious/mature-sounding, obviously we haven't really seen him in such a situation in canon and it's fair enough to assume he might adopt a more sombre manner in this context.
Okay so i've seen this recent influx of crossover fics and...well...
Courtstuck
OPEN PESTERLOG
-- burgerSpirits [BS] began pestering takeThat [TT] --
BS: nick
BS: niiiiick
TT: What now, Maya?
TT: Today's my day off, leave me alone.
BS: pshaw, yeah right :P
BS: anyways i got this REALLY COOL new game!
TT: ...Congrats? Why tell me?
BS: because it needs more than one person to play and i dont know anyone else with a computer
TT: Do I have to?
TT: Today was my day off and I was gonna go get groceries.
BS: FORGET THE FOOD ITS TIME FOR GAAAAMESS!!!
burgerSpirits [BS] sent Sburb client.EXE
burgerSpirits [BS] sent Sburb server.EXE
TT: Sburb?
TT: What kinda game is it?
BS: i dunno
TT: OBJECTION!
TT: How do you know if this game is awesome if you don't know anything about it?!
BS: i gotta hunch
BS: an AWESOME hunch!
BS: pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease
TT: Alright, fine.
TT: Jeez you're pushy.
BS: yaaaay!
BS: get back to me when you install everything
BS: youll be my server ok?
Okay so i've seen this recent influx of crossover fics and...well...
Courtstuck
OPEN PESTERLOG
-- burgerSpirits [BS] began pestering takeThat [TT] --
BS: nick
BS: niiiiick
TT: What now, Maya?
TT: Today's my day off, leave me alone.
BS: pshaw, yeah right :P
BS: anyways i got this REALLY COOL new game!
TT: ...Congrats? Why tell me?
BS: because it needs more than one person to play and i dont know anyone else with a computer
TT: Do I have to?
TT: Today was my day off and I was gonna go get groceries.
BS: FORGET THE FOOD ITS TIME FOR GAAAAMESS!!!
burgerSpirits [BS] sent Sburb client.EXE
burgerSpirits [BS] sent Sburb server.EXE
TT: Sburb?
TT: What kinda game is it?
BS: i dunno
TT: OBJECTION!
TT: How do you know if this game is awesome if you don't know anything about it?!
BS: i gotta hunch
BS: an AWESOME hunch!
BS: pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease
TT: Alright, fine.
TT: Jeez you're pushy.
BS: yaaaay!
BS: get back to me when you install everything
BS: youll be my server ok?
Oh man. I am not normally into crossover fics of this variety, but I LOVELOVELOVE Ace Attorney, and you have the voices captured so well that I can't help but love this.
I like that you're voicing your (civilised) opinion of Vriska through fic, but there's something crucial missing for me. Writing Vriska is something I don't feel like doing anytime soon, so here is my idea in boring non-literary form.
Almost every bad thing Vriska has ever done had an upside; Crippling Tavros led to the killing of Aradia, which lead to the army of paradox robots needed to defeat the black king later on, as well as instigating both their ascensions. Terezi's blindification netted her no trauma of any sort, but an early awakened dreamself, augmenting her seer role. And if she hadn't put John to sleep at that critical moment, Earth would've been a crapsack world with the trolls as Gods, John or any of the other humans would never have existed and according to my IDE all of paradox space would be stunted under a crippling time paradox. Finally, it's not too far-fetched that Dead Tavros could make a god tier recovery in part thanks to Vriska killing him.
We don't know wether Vriska is doing this as a conscious effort, although Doc Scratch had been edging her on during the early stages, perhaps giving her enough insight to continue this line of action on her own. The interesting thing is that Vriska always claims the pettiest and most hateable motifs for her actions, likely thanks to the insecurities inferred during her upbringing. I want to see a fic exploring this clash between Vriska's sociopathic "always a winner" identity and the heroïc plight which she may or may not be stuck in. One idea is the above pesterfic except Vriska gets tired of playing the anti-hero slash villain, snaps, drops the façade and just scathes John with a full, bitter explanation.
The interesting thing is that Vriska always claims the pettiest and most hateable motifs for her actions, likely thanks to the insecurities inferred during her upbringing.
YES, THIS. It's my belief that Vris flip-flops between "WHY DON'T YOU LOVE ME" and "WHY DON'T YOU HATE ME" almost without realising she's doing it. IMHO her ego masks some massive self-hatred, and she's basically desperate for attention/validation from whatever quarter, currently through setting herself up on an ~epic quest~ to kill Jack, but there is another part of her which almost wants people to think as badly of her as possible, because she doesn't feel like she genuinely deserves to be liked (instead substituting in that she seeks admiration/fear/respect/phat lewts, because that necessitates less of an emotional connection.)
You can't believe your eyes. Before you stretches a black abyss, broken by glass prisms that give the space the effect of a black ocean. There is no perception of depth or even size within this place, you might as well be looking at a portrait or staring into the sky as you used to. Every so often you can hear the drop of a single something. What the source of the noise is, you can't say, but the effect it leaves is close to that of a child's lullaby, forever repelled by the black unknown and echoed by the nearby and far off prisms.
Land of Prisms and Echoes
Despite all of this, one object has completely stolen your attention. It's beautiful shine brings back a whirl of memories and times that you would have completely forgotten.
Your best friend twinkles at the center of this expanse, the Green Sun.
It was there, your first memories include picking that star from the expanse of yellow and black that hovered above you. You can remember looking to it for guidance, for a sense of warmth in all your days left alone. You remember shouting to it about when you met your "friends" through the miracle of your washed up laptop. You remember how it acted to save you from your fate of dying on that island, leading you farther and farther away into a new world.
You once again follow it, you feel yourself brush the space beneath you like a soft floor.
You start to run.
You run faster, your eyes watching it unblinking, as if your focus is what keeps it from suddenly dissipating. The world around you begins to bend, the star draws closer and closer to you until soon it's vastness stretches to beyond your scope and perception of size. Still you run, you'll run until you can touch it!
WG: Try looking through your telescope
You catch your TELESCOPE after it falls from the TREE and peer through it. You are suddenly overcome by the sensation of becoming undone. You can feel reality grab hold of your consciousness and pull you closer to it. The echoes begin to form into a voice as you are propelled through the nether at a speeds impossible to the planes of time and space.
Lost but found
Broken yet fixed
Convict of Space
Power Unknown is now yours to command
Accept it
And as suddenly as it began, it ends. You find yourself once again at the doorway staring at the small green blip on the horizon. Something is different though.
WG: The process of reaching the pinnacle of realistic oneness is something many First Guardians never experience.
WG: Many of us are created through use of the universes sessions, or are completely made realized though the needs of our master.
WG: You, however, are one of the few to be reborn through the very center of our power.
WG: Think of your home.
WG: Think clearly.
Before you can even imagine the expansive ocean, you feel yourself torn from the doorway and propped up in the small patch of sand that remains of your home.
The cooling magma has all but completely destroyed your home, but you're still glad you are able to visit.
You notice your reflection in the stilled water behind you. Your hair cut almost completely away, your coat transformed into a bright GREEN cape. The largest change lies with your eyes, shining just as bright as the Sun did. You can feel the power coursing through you, aching to be unleashed upon anything that would stand in your way. You've ascended far beyond the STARFARCUTIONERS, the Conquering Armada, and best of all, you've ascended far past Vriska. Just the thought of the payback heading her way brings a devilish grin to your face.
The White Guest appears next to you.
WG: Meteors continue to pelt this world.
WG: Soon it will be nothing but a barren wasteland, populated only by a band of exiles from the session being played.
SR: What now...
SR: Where shou/d / go to f/rst...?
WG: Take this typewriter.
WG: Use it to converse with your targets.
WG: How you go about carrying out your mission is your decision.
SR: What w/// you do...?
WG: Continue my work in preparing this world for my master.
WG: Contact me only in situations of dire urgency.
The White Guest holds his hand out. You shake it.
The deal is done
Plans made
All that's left is your end of the bargain
and you will deliver
Last edited by Tybian Sothoth; 01-20-2011 at 12:37 AM.
Name! Tybian Sothoth
Pesterchum handle! solarRavager
You are the Convict of Space in the Land of Prisms and Echo!
It is you
Okay so i've seen this recent influx of crossover fics and...well...
Courtstuck
OPEN PESTERLOG
-- burgerSpirits [BS] began pestering takeThat [TT] --
BS: nick
BS: niiiiick
TT: What now, Maya?
TT: Today's my day off, leave me alone.
BS: pshaw, yeah right :P
BS: anyways i got this REALLY COOL new game!
TT: ...Congrats? Why tell me?
BS: because it needs more than one person to play and i dont know anyone else with a computer
TT: Do I have to?
TT: Today was my day off and I was gonna go get groceries.
BS: FORGET THE FOOD ITS TIME FOR GAAAAMESS!!!
burgerSpirits [BS] sent Sburb client.EXE
burgerSpirits [BS] sent Sburb server.EXE
TT: Sburb?
TT: What kinda game is it?
BS: i dunno
TT: OBJECTION!
TT: How do you know if this game is awesome if you don't know anything about it?!
BS: i gotta hunch
BS: an AWESOME hunch!
BS: pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease
TT: Alright, fine.
TT: Jeez you're pushy.
BS: yaaaay!
BS: get back to me when you install everything
BS: youll be my server ok?
Glad so many people like it. I have played the ace attourney series so much i'd be surprised if i didnt get the characters right :mspa:
and just because i have nothing else to do:
Courtstuck-2
Open Pesterlog
-- burgerSpirits [BS] began pestering aceDetective [AD] --
BS: hi gumshoe!
AD: heya maya
AD: hah
AD: that rymed :D
BS: *rhymed
AD: oh be quiet pal
AD: so what do ya need
BS: we're gonna play a game gumshoe
BS: do you like to play games?
AD: well sure!
AD: ill have you know i was the top tag player back in elemtary school pal >:D
BS: nonono, not that kinda game
BS: computer games!
AD: but
AD: i dont have a computer D:
BS: ...
BS: HOW ARE YOU TALKING TO ME THEN
AD: oh im just using one down at work
BS: ok use that one
AD: but im not alowed to play games on these computers pal
AD: or my pay will get docked
AD: again
BS: well, what if i get permission from someone high up to let you play?
AD: but you dont know anyone that high on the chain
BS: yeeesss i doooo
AD: ...really?
AD: got me stumped pal :|
BS: >:D
-- burgerSpirits [BS] ceased pestering aceDetective [AD] --
Open Pesterlog
-- burgerSpirits [BS] began pestering undeniableTruth [UT] --
BS: edgy!
UT: Hello, Maya.
UT: I'd love to chat but I'm currently in the middle of work, so I'm afraid I'm going to have to disconnect.
BS: ok w/e but i just wanna ask you one quick question
UT: Fine, what is it?
BS: can gumshoe play games on his computer?
UT: I wasn't aware the detective had one.
BS: oh yeah of course
BS: so can he???
UT: Who am I to decide how he uses it?
UT: I may imploy him, but I'm not his nanny.
BS: thank yooouuu!
BS: byyyeee
-- burgerSpirits [BS] ceased pestering undeniableTruth [UT] --
Open Pesterlog
-- burgerSpirits [BS] began pestering aceDetective [AD] --
BS: ok you are free to play!
AD: woah!
AD: really?
AD: just like that?
BS: yep!
BS: play games to your hearts content ^_^
BS: but make sure its this game
burgerSpirits [BS] sent Sburb client.EXE
burgerSpirits [BS] sent Sburb server.EXE
AD: huh
AD: havent heard of this game :\
BS: trust me it is awweeeessssome
AD: well it is a free game
AD: you really are a true pal! :D
BS: anytime!
AD: how do i play it though?
BS: youll figure it out~
BS: gotta go bye
-- burgerSpirits [BS] ceased pestering aceDetective [AD] --
God I can't stay mad at Noir.
He's just.
He's like when a tiny puppy murders a squirrel and brings the corpse into your house as a present to you and it's wagging its tail and is SO PROUD of itself.
Then it goes into your house, tears your couch apart, and shits on all of your carpets.
The interesting thing is that Vriska always claims the pettiest and most hateable motifs for her actions, likely thanks to the insecurities inferred during her upbringing.
YES, THIS. It's my belief that Vris flip-flops between "WHY DON'T YOU LOVE ME" and "WHY DON'T YOU HATE ME" almost without realising she's doing it.
Wow. That's... actually a pretty neat observation.
Also, I like EBass' point about the Doc Scratch influence - I don't think this is true, but it would be interesting to explore her taking monstrous actions "for the greater good" as revealed by time/seer/omniscience shennanigans.
Oh my god PW/HS *armflail* Completely awesome, I wanna see an entire session go down with them.
Your chumhandle is quizzicalDraconian. You don't like to talk much because you're often busy, or maybe that's just how you troll people. Also you are sorta kinda indecisive about some stuff sometimes and use way too many weird emoticons. :B :V :'
Check out my Forum Adventure Jumpcat!
Link to webcomic and unnatural Bec Noir love under spoilers:
♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ ^ In my dreams, I am the Eridan in this picture. It's me. ^
(Picture done by NatDragon)
Oh, I think Vriska killing Aradia brought directly to the troll winning the game. I don' t believe that was her intentions. Doc Scratch intentions? Yes. Vriska? Not.
FWIW I think Aradia beat up Vriska almost to death because she knew that she (vriska) would have ended as a GodTier, and that would/will be essential, to defeat the black king (it was her lucky roll that broke his scepter) and for something else that we still don't know.
I think Doc Sratch is still using Vriska for his purposes, Her behavior is ridiculously easy to predict and with his omniscience it was easy to just point her in a certain direction and let her go knowing that she will do what he wanted thinking that it was what she wanted, things like creating Bec Noir, for example.
Out of the cave slithers something large. Dry scales rustle on grey stone, sliding past the burrs and pointed outcroppings. It leaves a trail in the dust, a darker line in the powder coated floor. It slips into the grass, hissing.
The bird perched on it's head chirps, and the snake turns to the left, towards a duo of large animals. The things are looking at it, but the snake can't see. The bird does, however, and it chirps out a small warning to the snake.
The snake listens to something deeper, though. It feels itself being dragged mentally towards the strange creatures. It isn't psychic, it's instinct. The bird too feels the instinct, and so the pair of animals approach with caution.
The lusii are recived gratefully by Azla and Iksti, and together they set off to find someplace to live.
***********************
The dark ocean waters lap at the gritty shore, dissolving the land away, leeching the dry beach and making it it's own. In the ocean swells white beings dwell, thinking black thoughts, like a squids ink clouding their minds. They struggle for survival on the seashore, ekeing out existance by cold-hearted ruthlessness.
Something staggers out of a nearby cavern. It's coated in indigo blood, and it steams with angry heat. It stomps down the shore, clutching at a gash in it's arm, and snatches up a blind fish. It looks in the fishes face, and then bites down on its spine, killing the fish. The thing devours the meal whole and quickly.
Something large rose out of the waves, water pouring off it in waves. Thick grit was plastered onto it from the polluted ocean, making it's normally white shell a dismal grey color. The thing covered in indigo cracked it's neck.
The beast came down in a downward strike, throwing it's considerable bulk into the fight. The indigo creature leapt to the side, grabbing onto the scales and running up the round side of the massive snakelike being. It gripped the thing behind the eyes, in the two small holes that allowed it to see. It thrashed for a few seconds, and then was still.
The third lusus was obtained.
A/N
And we have a nameless antagonist. He's probably closer to the norm than Azla or Iksti, but I doubt that most trolls routinely beat up their lusus. I figure for the most part it's a begrudging peace, the troll feeding the lusus and the lusus protecting the hive from... whatever it needs to.
Also, I'd love to see a forum adventure with these two but I can't draw worth a shit. Besides, I'd probably drop the project after a few days.
II: What's up, deadMeat.
II: That is your new handle. Change it now.
RM: yeah uhh i don't think so!
RM: if you're just another crazy loser stalker like bootStrapper you can forget about it
II: Whoa.
II: She's been getting in on this?
II: She didn't tell me.
RM: I can imagine
RM: she doesn't tell anyone anything
RM: i've had like twelve convos with her and the extent of my knowledge about her is literally
RM: "she's a creep" and "her handle is bootStrapper"
RM: oh and she's a girl
RM: thank you for informing me of that with your indiscriminate pronoun usage
II: Uh huh.
II: Judging by your rate of messages per second, I'd say this is a sensitive topic.
RM: NO BULL
RM: gee sherlock how'd you figure that one
II: Funny you should mention Sherlock,
II: as I AM a private eye.
II: Of sorts.
RM: yeah well take your hot chicks and your awesome theme song somewhere else 007
RM: I am not in the mood
II: I'm not here to make trouble.
II: Just to make sure you guys don't screw up even worse than you already have
RM: see how do you figure that?
RM: all i've done so far is make a kickin new pair of gloves and beat the snot out of monsters
II: Yeah, but before that.
II: You started this game.
II: Starting this game unloads a crapton of stuff you've already made a mess of in the future
II: You're playing the game, so you've already failed.
II: Quid Pro Quo.
RM: i don't hold to that
RM: we've been in this game for a grand total of an hour, and you're prophesying doom and gloom already?
RM: smacks to me of getting ahead of yourself
II: Yeah, see, you don't understand.
II: I have pretty much the breadth of your session at my viewing pleasure.
II: I could wait an hour, yell at you, and if I wanted you'd hear it in five minutes.
RM: okay yeah that's just weird
RM: but it sorta fits into what miss sharp objects back here is telling me
II: Oh, wonderful job on the prototypings, by the way.
II: Making everything and everyone in the Medium have a gnawing urge to kill you?
II: Plan of the year.
II: All years.
RM: OK lay off me that one wasn't even my idea
RM: the sprite just sorta picked that one out itself
II: Really?
II: I wasn't under the impression that a sprite could do that.
RM: o rly
RM: what did you put in
RM: provided you actually played this game and aren't just some construct thereof
II: Oh, yeah, I played it.
II: Played and won.
II: Still lost in the end, though.
II: Because, I'm pretty sure, of something you did.
RM: blar blar it's all Meat Boy's fault
RM: don't change the subject
RM: what did you put in
II: A gun.
RM: LOL
RM: talk about bad prototyping choices
II: To be fair, that was without a doubt the worst thing my session prototyped with.
II: And it still pales in comparison to what your team is going to put in.
RM: so tell us what we're about to put in and we'll put something else in
RM: simple as that
II: That's the thing.
II: I'm trying to prevent at least one of you from getting in at all
RM: whoa boyo no can do
RM: firey death via meteor ETA now
RM: i won't let my friends die no way no how
II: Fine then.
II: Your friend Tim is about to go in.
II: He's going to prototype some time-altering artifact he has on him.
II: TELL HIM NOT TO.
II: Because he won't listen to me.
RM: what his ring
RM: i doubt he'll put that in
RM: little bugger slows everything around it to a crawl
RM: no way would Tim be that stupid
II: EARTH TO MEAT BOY.
II: He puts it in.
II: I see him do it.
II: I can see him doing it right now.
RM: so wait he's already entering the game?
II: NO!
II: I can see him doing it, precisely fifteen minutes from now.
II: From YOUR perspective.
II: From my perspective, the difference between the time you're at right now and the time he prototypes the ring are functionally meaningless,
II: since I'm literally in a different universe from you and have most of your timeline to pick apart at my whim.
RM: So...
RM: why are you trying to get me to stop him, if you know that's what he does?
II: Because maybe it doesn't have to be.
II: Time is not my forte.
II: In fact, it's none of ours in this session.
II: I'm the Rogue of Shadow.
II: I get down with the nitty gritty, get-your-hands-dirty sorta stuff.
RM: pfft nice
RM: make that up by yourself
II: I know, it sounds dorky.
II: But that's the title the game gave me.
II: I'm pretty sure you have one, too.
RM: whoa really
RM: what is it
II: I don't know.
II: I haven't asked future you yet.
II: But I digress.
II: This timeline is possibly not what has to take place.
II: I'm hoping, I guess, if I screw around enough with it, something different will happen.
II: Something that doesn't lead to a fire-breathing monstrosity hanging over us like a proverbial guillotine.
RM: so wait
RM: why don't you explain this to Tim?
RM: he seems reasonable
II: Two reasons.
II: Reason A: He is a transtemporal jackhole.
II: Reason B: He's already talking to someone in the only available timeframe, which is in a few minutes.
II: I can't contact him.
II: That's why I'm asking you to talk to him, in hopes that the someone he's talking to actually turns out to be you.
RM: that
RM: that actually souds pretty reasonable
RM: are you sure you're a troll
II: No.
II: Just a man whose circumstances went beyond his control.
RM: BEYOND MY CONTROOOOOOLLL
II: What.
RM: sorry
RM: that reminded me of a song
II: Just talk to him.
II: It'll make all of our lives easier.
RM: fine i guess
RM: bye
[TG] so like i had nothing to do
[TG] so i went on this forum and pretended i was dave
[TG] its ironic because i am not
[TG] even though im totally a coolkid anyway
[TG] so here you guys go or whatever
SB(urb)aHJ
So like sweet bro was sitting in his computer and he was like typing on his computer.
Clack clack clack, then like his pal Hella Jeff is like, "Dude I found this suburb game it is totally sweet."
So Bro and Jeff decided to be useless pieces of shit and play this video game but then a meteor headed to Bro's house.
So the Cruxtruder was like "I warned you about meteors bro!"
But since Cruxtruders don't talk it was like "..." instead.
So anyway Sweet Bro managed to drop his dorito chip and enter the medium.
So he was chillin at the LAND OF SOCKS AND DISTRACTIONS and so he went and put jelly on his hot dog sprite and jeff was like "How high do you have to be to do something like that"
And Bro didn't know because he was that high and so he just wasted a bunch of time grist hunting.
So then Jeff wanted to go into the medium too because the meteor thing kept happening. So he went to Geromy and asked him to be his server but since token black people never talk he just sat there but Jeff managed to get in anyway.
Then Geromy got hit by a meteor.
So then Jeff chilled out in the Land of Stairs And Nachos being totally chill and hanging out with his sprite who was the koolaid man for some reason.
So then the big man has the game and he gets into his Land Of AIR AND AIDS and he keeps it real with Obama as his spirte.
So then they needed a fourth player so they got Kawa to enter and he has NO IDEA what is going on but it happens anyway.
So while Kawa is wondering just how he entered the LAND OF FORUMS AND FROGS, Jeff wanted to get a fraymotif but there was too many discounts and values so he had no idea what to buy.
And then....
THIS STORY HAS A PLOT
THIS STORY DOESN'T HAVE A PLOT AND NEVER CONTIUNES
THE ONLY WAY TO KNOW THE TRUTH?
BUY THE STORY
(or just tell me to continue or not to continue, that probably works)
AN
Gog I suck.
You can go hate me now.
I can claim that since SBaHJ is intentionally crappy that I was following a theme but that would just be a really bad excuse. It sucks because I suck and thus it would suck from being made by a sucky person in said person's sucky manner.
I am sorry Kawa that you are the fourth player, I just thought that it was the most SBaHJ thing to do for a fourth player is to choose a completly random guy. And as such I figured, why not someone from the forum.
And your like the most well known guy I know on this forum.
Indystuck by Graven_Image:
-I obviously have a weakness for Sburb-themed crossovers (I started one a while ago, and have started a different one recently) but even with that this is engaging as hell. Tim is the best character ever.
See You On The Other Side by lucidSeraph:
-I also love bloodswaps and alt-guardian fics. I can't read purpledave without reading his voice as Balthier from FF12. After reading this, I'm pretty sure purple is my favorite color of Dave, actually.
Sburb Fortress by Kerensky287:
-Your writing is shit, never post here again.
Summergale's Personal Session fics:
-The Sylph: Yeah, the idea of dying to hit god-tier was always something I imagined players would have trouble with. Some people just wouldn't be able to do it; there's always the concern that they forgot something, or they misunderstood the requirements, or that there was something else that would mean killing the person kills them for good. Oh, and being your own sister's murderer would be more than a little traumatic too. Great job.
-The Warden: wait did that just happen
oh shit I reviewed the above one before reading this and it totally happened like I was afraid it would
that totally happened oh shit oh god oh man oh god oh man
I just learned of these characters less than 2 minutes ago, why do I care about either of them aaaagh whyyy
Alten's fic about Gamzee's Denizen:
-Perfectly in-character for Gamzee, I love it. It's also refreshing to see the trolls actually giving a damn about one of their number. Hoping to see more in future pages, this can't just end like it did!
~wave by MayorSillyBiscuits:
-I can't quite figure out how this is supposed to fit into the timeline but that doesn't stop it from being a great read. Awesome job.
Schoolfeeding by KarneWarrior:
-I have tried my best to stay away from fantrolls as long as I've been here and that's the main reason why I haven't already read this. I like what you've done with the speculative fiction angle though - we haven't seen much about troll society, but your take on schoolfeeding is certainly in keeping with what we've seen. I like your style and will definitely read more of the story when I get to it.
Page 51
Them's the Breaks by lantadyme:
-Oh geez, I remember reading this when it was first posted. DavexJade is the closest thing I have to a ship. High fives all around. Utterly heartwarming.
Page 52
By Breath and Blood by PingZing
-Great in-depth exploration about John's god-tier transformation. Good job with John's voice too, optimism in the face of Vriska literally tricking him into dying in his sleep is very much his style.
Homekrigg Geniusstuck by spacetimeCounselor:
-I'm actually not going to read this yet, I'll head back and read the first two parts and then comment on the series as a whole sometime later on. Sorry if you feel ripped off but there's a LOT of ground to cover right now in the thread!
Untitled fic by Sionnan
-How'd I miss this? This is fantastic. I've always been a little iffy about the whole "The guardians all knew each other before the game" thing (my headcanon is that they met after entry into sburb actually) but a well-written story like this is enough to make me ignore headcanon and just go along for the ride.
The Dargon Arc by SkaianRedeemer:
-ooooooh nooooooooo
those poor squiddles
I guess I'll comment some more when I've read another chapter.
A KarkatxTerezi fic by catharticCarnifex:
-To anyone who has not read this yet: if you can stand romantic fiction (and if you're here, chances are you can) then you should have read this by now. If you have not, do so and come back. It's too great a story to miss out on.
The Brother Striders by Graven_Image:
-Already read+reviewed it, but to repeat: Unironic fistbumps. Good job, best end.
Page 53
Quadrantic Equation by Wigmund:
-Delightfully awkward. Dave as a shipping jedi is a hilarious touch, too.
Spider's Clam by Graven_Image:
-I... can't say I'm a huge fan of the CONCEPT (Vriska hateraping Feferi through the use of a technicality I guess?) but the execution is as flawless as I've come to expect from your stories. Also you answer story requests on steam what?
More to come, wow these take way longer than I thought. ;_;
So many good fics, everyone! I need to find my courage and actually comment on them.
Hopefully this one doesn't send anyone to the hornpile.
Come Undone
Casey stands on the edge of the lava flow with her toes curled in toward herself and her knees scraped and burnt. Her robes are charred at the very edges and ripped from the few times she'd tripped and fallen in battle. She's getting better at fighting. She hasn't yet grasped the depth of her master's magicks but she's faster and sharper and quicker on her feet than she ever had to be in her life before. She thinks she's becoming a good apprentice. Perhaps by the time she reaches home again, she'll be strong enough to pass her knowledge down.
She's been through two worlds already and in the quiet times between imp battles she thinks to herself about the stories she will tell when she gets back home. She thinks of her mother and her town and she misses them, yes, but this adventure is more than any salamander had ever dreamed before.
It's something beyond Casey herself. It is something that will be remembered into the ages.
But the heat in this strange lava world is oppressive. It makes her skin dry and taut and close to cracking. She pants in the dry heat, remembering the smooth oil streams of her home world and the beautiful shining sunsets on the world where she had met her master.
Those had been wonderful worlds.
This one is hot and terrible, and in her moments of weakness Casey wishes the tugs at her master's robes would be answered with more than, "We cannot proceed yet. There are a multitude of things that must be completed on this plane."
Behind Casey, her master is muttering to herself. Her voice is a slow, constant murmur, the words nothing that Casey can understand but the air feels charged with knowledge. She can feel the power in those words. It is inspiring.
Times like these, when the burns on her soft skin ache and her eyes run constantly in the dry heat, Casey clings to that inspiration. She needs something to keep going, and it's been a long while since her master offered the kind teaching words she used to. Casey misses that. She misses her father too, the human who had come out of nowhere to embrace her and her mother, to press the bunny into her moist hands and call her his daughter. She had never had a father before, nor a name. Casey sometimes wonders where he'd gone, but she also knows he has greatness in his blood and a quest to complete.
He brought her to the Seer, and now Casey and her master are on a quest of their own. Now she is more than a simple salamander girl. She has two names; the true name her father had given her, and the magical name given to her by her master.
"Bubbles," her teacher calls suddenly, the quiet spell falling from her lips and splattering into nothing against the hot gears beneath their feet. "Bring me my wands."
Casey turns in that calm, smooth motion her master had taught her, slipping her fingertips into one wide sleeve and pulling the wands from the pocket set within. She steps over the warm metal and stands at her master's knee, sliding the needles into the Seer's outstretched palm.
"Thank you," she says softly, and Casey is a bit surprised to see her master look up at her, to set her crystal ball aside and actually meet her apprentice's gaze. A smile ghosts over her lips and then her eyes slide down to Casey's hands, her feet and the exposed tip of her tail. "You look tired. How are you holding up, my viceroy?"
Casey runs a dry tongue over her lips, her mouth too parched to form the bubbles she needs to speak. Instead she lets her eyelids flutter closed, lets her posture sag back into the childlike slump that broadcasts her young age so well. Her hands and feet hurt and she is very tired.
A cool hand presses against the side of her face and she opens her eyes again, watching as her master sets down her wands and reaches out the freed hand to take the salamander's tiny paws into her own. She looks over the burns and the scrapes and then her lips press into a thin line.
"I've been distracted," she says. "It's important that you rest. This world isn't the most hospitable habitat for you, and I apologize that I've forgotten." She searches through her inventory slowly, eventually extracting one of the towels she'd dampened before they had come to this fiery land. The fabric drips slightly and sends up little curls of steam as the water falls onto the warm gears and vaporizes in the dry, hot air.
Casey takes it, pushing back the hood of her robes and wrapping the wet towel around her head. The liquid seeps slowly out of it, and as it runs into her dry eyes she notices that it still holds some of the beautiful colors that had been everywhere in the light world.
Her master watches, her hands folded in her lap patiently, and Casey rubs the water into her skin and wipes the ash away. The moisture revives her. After a quiet moment she hangs it back on her head, squinting at the red distance and watching the pinks and yellows swirl through her vision.
"Do you understand what we're doing here, Bubbles?"
They're defeating the game. They're ending it. Casey doesn't know what that means, only that her master has been saying it over and over almost as a sort of mantra.
A ball of deep purple yarn falls into the Seer's hands, cradled there in one cupped palm as she settles her inventory away again. She takes the ball and holds it up, dipping three fingers into the center and nimbly pulling out the end of the string. Then she takes one wand—a needle—and Casey watches as she slowly casts stitches onto it; purple spaced evenly amongst the swirls of black-and-white.
"When I dream, I hear whispers from beyond," she says quietly, and it's the calm teaching voice that she hasn't used in a while. Casey listens, eager to continue her training. "I hear beings in my dreams that are ancient and far beyond wise."
She falls silent for a while, easing the second needle against the first. She knits, carefully but with a speed that Casey finds entrancing. The needles click and clack, the yarn flowing through her hands, and she turns her work again and again, the length of fabric steadily growing.
"These beings know things about the game. They are more knowledgeable than I could ever hope to be, and they've watched this game play out countless times before. They know the inner workings and the mechanics behind what it does. On occasion they give me hints as to how to break it. They've grown weary of watching it play. They want it destroyed."
A pause.
"Unraveled, so to speak."
Casey listens and she watches the piece of cloth grow. It's thin, only as wide across as her master's palm, but already it's nearly three times as long.
"Kanaya hinted to me that a certain amphibian was of great importance in her session. I laughed once I finally realized it. I think Strider would enjoy the irony if he understood."
Casey blinks because she doesn't understand herself. She looks up and her master is watching her now, the needles suddenly still in her hands. She sets one aside, then the other, pulling it slowly out of the stitches. The loops sag there, threatening to slip through each other and fall from fabric back into yarn.
"There is a colloquial term in knitting for when you are required to unravel something before you've finished," she says, still holding Casey's eye. "Can you guess what it is?"
Casey shakes her head.
Her master smiles and she takes the fabric in one hand, the loose strand of yarn in the other, and she yanks. The loops pop and snag and pop again, the knitting unraveling in a ragged ribbit-ribbit-ribbit of yarn on yarn.
"It's known as frogging."
Her Master's smile widens into cleverness and she looks up into the burning black smog of the lava world's atmosphere.
"We'll frog this game," she says, the smile on her face and her eyes dancing. "We'll tear it back to its component pieces and then we'll build as we wish."
Casey watches her master and the ruined piece of cloth in her lap. She doesn't fully understand but a shiver runs up her spine anyway.
Destruction? Their quest is to destroy?
She's not sure how she feels about that. She stands there silently for a moment, still and thinking, and then she bends and lifts the swatch of purple from her master's lap. She holds it and weaves one of her own wands into the open loops. It's still ruined but at least it can't unravel any farther.
Casey holds it out to her master, and she's not sure how to tell her that she understands that their quest is to destroy. That she can grasp. But she refuses to let her master unravel along with everything else.
The Seer is still smiling, watching Casey idly, and her expression warms at the gesture. She sets a hand against the wand and pushes it back toward Casey's chest. "Keep it. Practice. You can make things with us, too."
She pats Casey's head fondly, and in that moment Casey knows her master understands.
So many good fics, everyone! I need to find my courage and actually comment on them.
Hopefully this one doesn't send anyone to the hornpile.
Come Undone
Casey stands on the edge of the lava flow with her toes curled in toward herself and her knees scraped and burnt. Her robes are charred at the very edges and ripped from the few times she'd tripped and fallen in battle. She's getting better at fighting. She hasn't yet grasped the depth of her master's magicks but she's faster and sharper and quicker on her feet than she ever had to be in her life before. She thinks she's becoming a good apprentice. Perhaps by the time she reaches home again, she'll be strong enough to pass her knowledge down.
She's been through two worlds already and in the quiet times between imp battles she thinks to herself about the stories she will tell when she gets back home. She thinks of her mother and her town and she misses them, yes, but this adventure is more than any salamander had ever dreamed before.
It's something beyond Casey herself. It is something that will be remembered into the ages.
But the heat in this strange lava world is oppressive. It makes her skin dry and taut and close to cracking. She pants in the dry heat, remembering the smooth oil streams of her home world and the beautiful shining sunsets on the world where she had met her master.
Those had been wonderful worlds.
This one is hot and terrible, and in her moments of weakness Casey wishes the tugs at her master's robes would be answered with more than, "We cannot proceed yet. There are a multitude of things that must be completed on this plane."
Behind Casey, her master is muttering to herself. Her voice is a slow, constant murmur, the words nothing that Casey can understand but the air feels charged with knowledge. She can feel the power in those words. It is inspiring.
Times like these, when the burns on her soft skin ache and her eyes run constantly in the dry heat, Casey clings to that inspiration. She needs something to keep going, and it's been a long while since her master offered the kind teaching words she used to. Casey misses that. She misses her father too, the human who had come out of nowhere to embrace her and her mother, to press the bunny into her moist hands and call her his daughter. She had never had a father before, nor a name. Casey sometimes wonders where he'd gone, but she also knows he has greatness in his blood and a quest to complete.
He brought her to the Seer, and now Casey and her master are on a quest of their own. Now she is more than a simple salamander girl. She has two names; the true name her father had given her, and the magical name given to her by her master.
"Bubbles," her teacher calls suddenly, the quiet spell falling from her lips and splattering into nothing against the hot gears beneath their feet. "Bring me my wands."
Casey turns in that calm, smooth motion her master had taught her, slipping her fingertips into one wide sleeve and pulling the wands from the pocket set within. She steps over the warm metal and stands at her master's knee, sliding the needles into the Seer's outstretched palm.
"Thank you," she says softly, and Casey is a bit surprised to see her master look up at her, to set her crystal ball aside and actually meet her apprentice's gaze. A smile ghosts over her lips and then her eyes slide down to Casey's hands, her feet and the exposed tip of her tail. "You look tired. How are you holding up, my viceroy?"
Casey runs a dry tongue over her lips, her mouth too parched to form the bubbles she needs to speak. Instead she lets her eyelids flutter closed, lets her posture sag back into the childlike slump that broadcasts her young age so well. Her hands and feet hurt and she is very tired.
A cool hand presses against the side of her face and she opens her eyes again, watching as her master sets down her wands and reaches out the freed hand to take the salamander's tiny paws into her own. She looks over the burns and the scrapes and then her lips press into a thin line.
"I've been distracted," she says. "It's important that you rest. This world isn't the most hospitable habitat for you, and I apologize that I've forgotten." She searches through her inventory slowly, eventually extracting one of the towels she'd dampened before they had come to this fiery land. The fabric drips slightly and sends up little curls of steam as the water falls onto the warm gears and vaporizes in the dry, hot air.
Casey takes it, pushing back the hood of her robes and wrapping the wet towel around her head. The liquid seeps slowly out of it, and as it runs into her dry eyes she notices that it still holds some of the beautiful colors that had been everywhere in the light world.
Her master watches, her hands folded in her lap patiently, and Casey rubs the water into her skin and wipes the ash away. The moisture revives her. After a quiet moment she hangs it back on her head, squinting at the red distance and watching the pinks and yellows swirl through her vision.
"Do you understand what we're doing here, Bubbles?"
They're defeating the game. They're ending it. Casey doesn't know what that means, only that her master has been saying it over and over almost as a sort of mantra.
A ball of deep purple yarn falls into the Seer's hands, cradled there in one cupped palm as she settles her inventory away again. She takes the ball and holds it up, dipping three fingers into the center and nimbly pulling out the end of the string. Then she takes one wand—a needle—and Casey watches as she slowly casts stitches onto it; purple spaced evenly amongst the swirls of black-and-white.
"When I dream, I hear whispers from beyond," she says quietly, and it's the calm teaching voice that she hasn't used in a while. Casey listens, eager to continue her training. "I hear beings in my dreams that are ancient and far beyond wise."
She falls silent for a while, easing the second needle against the first. She knits, carefully but with a speed that Casey finds entrancing. The needles click and clack, the yarn flowing through her hands, and she turns her work again and again, the length of fabric steadily growing.
"These beings know things about the game. They are more knowledgeable than I could ever hope to be, and they've watched this game play out countless times before. They know the inner workings and the mechanics behind what it does. On occasion they give me hints as to how to break it. They've grown weary of watching it play. They want it destroyed."
A pause.
"Unraveled, so to speak."
Casey listens and she watches the piece of cloth grow. It's thin, only as wide across as her master's palm, but already it's nearly three times as long.
"Kanaya hinted to me that a certain amphibian was of great importance in her session. I laughed once I finally realized it. I think Strider would enjoy the irony if he understood."
Casey blinks because she doesn't understand herself. She looks up and her master is watching her now, the needles suddenly still in her hands. She sets one aside, then the other, pulling it slowly out of the stitches. The loops sag there, threatening to slip through each other and fall from fabric back into yarn.
"There is a colloquial term in knitting for when you are required to unravel something before you've finished," she says, still holding Casey's eye. "Can you guess what it is?"
Casey shakes her head.
Her master smiles and she takes the fabric in one hand, the loose strand of yarn in the other, and she yanks. The loops pop and snag and pop again, the knitting unraveling in a ragged ribbit-ribbit-ribbit of yarn on yarn.
"It's known as frogging."
Her Master's smile widens into cleverness and she looks up into the burning black smog of the lava world's atmosphere.
"We'll frog this game," she says, the smile on her face and her eyes dancing. "We'll tear it back to its component pieces and then we'll build as we wish."
Casey watches her master and the ruined piece of cloth in her lap. She doesn't fully understand but a shiver runs up her spine anyway.
Destruction? Their quest is to destroy?
She's not sure how she feels about that. She stands there silently for a moment, still and thinking, and then she bends and lifts the swatch of purple from her master's lap. She holds it and weaves one of her own wands into the open loops. It's still ruined but at least it can't unravel any farther.
Casey holds it out to her master, and she's not sure how to tell her that she understands that their quest is to destroy. That she can grasp. But she refuses to let her master unravel along with everything else.
The Seer is still smiling, watching Casey idly, and her expression warms at the gesture. She sets a hand against the wand and pushes it back toward Casey's chest. "Keep it. Practice. You can make things with us, too."
She pats Casey's head fondly, and in that moment Casey knows her master understands.
This was excellent. Rose's dialogue is absolutely perfect. You're one of the best writers I've seen here, and I'm really looking forward to more from you.
I was angry with my friend. I told my wrath. My wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe. I told it not. My wrath did grow.
Also Graven, Indystuck is getting better with every chapter. Is it bad that I can't identify a single one of the "trolls"?
Originally Posted by XFactorInfinity
I really, really hate the way you type. That's an impossibly mean thing to be honest about, but it's true, and I wanted you to know it. It's nothing against you, and I'm sure you're a pretty okay person, I think?
But the way you string sentences together sounds like a mad libs from a buffy factory took all of the worst parts of the nineties and internet culture and condensed it into an impossibly unpleasant grammatical structure. It's like what an intern at Game Bro Magazine writes like, probably. Before editing. It has so much bullshit, why I gotta read -Benedict try to form a coherent sentence dude
So many good fics, everyone! I need to find my courage and actually comment on them.
Hopefully this one doesn't send anyone to the hornpile.
Come Undone
Casey stands on the edge of the lava flow with her toes curled in toward herself and her knees scraped and burnt. Her robes are charred at the very edges and ripped from the few times she'd tripped and fallen in battle. She's getting better at fighting. She hasn't yet grasped the depth of her master's magicks but she's faster and sharper and quicker on her feet than she ever had to be in her life before. She thinks she's becoming a good apprentice. Perhaps by the time she reaches home again, she'll be strong enough to pass her knowledge down.
She's been through two worlds already and in the quiet times between imp battles she thinks to herself about the stories she will tell when she gets back home. She thinks of her mother and her town and she misses them, yes, but this adventure is more than any salamander had ever dreamed before.
It's something beyond Casey herself. It is something that will be remembered into the ages.
But the heat in this strange lava world is oppressive. It makes her skin dry and taut and close to cracking. She pants in the dry heat, remembering the smooth oil streams of her home world and the beautiful shining sunsets on the world where she had met her master.
Those had been wonderful worlds.
This one is hot and terrible, and in her moments of weakness Casey wishes the tugs at her master's robes would be answered with more than, "We cannot proceed yet. There are a multitude of things that must be completed on this plane."
Behind Casey, her master is muttering to herself. Her voice is a slow, constant murmur, the words nothing that Casey can understand but the air feels charged with knowledge. She can feel the power in those words. It is inspiring.
Times like these, when the burns on her soft skin ache and her eyes run constantly in the dry heat, Casey clings to that inspiration. She needs something to keep going, and it's been a long while since her master offered the kind teaching words she used to. Casey misses that. She misses her father too, the human who had come out of nowhere to embrace her and her mother, to press the bunny into her moist hands and call her his daughter. She had never had a father before, nor a name. Casey sometimes wonders where he'd gone, but she also knows he has greatness in his blood and a quest to complete.
He brought her to the Seer, and now Casey and her master are on a quest of their own. Now she is more than a simple salamander girl. She has two names; the true name her father had given her, and the magical name given to her by her master.
"Bubbles," her teacher calls suddenly, the quiet spell falling from her lips and splattering into nothing against the hot gears beneath their feet. "Bring me my wands."
Casey turns in that calm, smooth motion her master had taught her, slipping her fingertips into one wide sleeve and pulling the wands from the pocket set within. She steps over the warm metal and stands at her master's knee, sliding the needles into the Seer's outstretched palm.
"Thank you," she says softly, and Casey is a bit surprised to see her master look up at her, to set her crystal ball aside and actually meet her apprentice's gaze. A smile ghosts over her lips and then her eyes slide down to Casey's hands, her feet and the exposed tip of her tail. "You look tired. How are you holding up, my viceroy?"
Casey runs a dry tongue over her lips, her mouth too parched to form the bubbles she needs to speak. Instead she lets her eyelids flutter closed, lets her posture sag back into the childlike slump that broadcasts her young age so well. Her hands and feet hurt and she is very tired.
A cool hand presses against the side of her face and she opens her eyes again, watching as her master sets down her wands and reaches out the freed hand to take the salamander's tiny paws into her own. She looks over the burns and the scrapes and then her lips press into a thin line.
"I've been distracted," she says. "It's important that you rest. This world isn't the most hospitable habitat for you, and I apologize that I've forgotten." She searches through her inventory slowly, eventually extracting one of the towels she'd dampened before they had come to this fiery land. The fabric drips slightly and sends up little curls of steam as the water falls onto the warm gears and vaporizes in the dry, hot air.
Casey takes it, pushing back the hood of her robes and wrapping the wet towel around her head. The liquid seeps slowly out of it, and as it runs into her dry eyes she notices that it still holds some of the beautiful colors that had been everywhere in the light world.
Her master watches, her hands folded in her lap patiently, and Casey rubs the water into her skin and wipes the ash away. The moisture revives her. After a quiet moment she hangs it back on her head, squinting at the red distance and watching the pinks and yellows swirl through her vision.
"Do you understand what we're doing here, Bubbles?"
They're defeating the game. They're ending it. Casey doesn't know what that means, only that her master has been saying it over and over almost as a sort of mantra.
A ball of deep purple yarn falls into the Seer's hands, cradled there in one cupped palm as she settles her inventory away again. She takes the ball and holds it up, dipping three fingers into the center and nimbly pulling out the end of the string. Then she takes one wand—a needle—and Casey watches as she slowly casts stitches onto it; purple spaced evenly amongst the swirls of black-and-white.
"When I dream, I hear whispers from beyond," she says quietly, and it's the calm teaching voice that she hasn't used in a while. Casey listens, eager to continue her training. "I hear beings in my dreams that are ancient and far beyond wise."
She falls silent for a while, easing the second needle against the first. She knits, carefully but with a speed that Casey finds entrancing. The needles click and clack, the yarn flowing through her hands, and she turns her work again and again, the length of fabric steadily growing.
"These beings know things about the game. They are more knowledgeable than I could ever hope to be, and they've watched this game play out countless times before. They know the inner workings and the mechanics behind what it does. On occasion they give me hints as to how to break it. They've grown weary of watching it play. They want it destroyed."
A pause.
"Unraveled, so to speak."
Casey listens and she watches the piece of cloth grow. It's thin, only as wide across as her master's palm, but already it's nearly three times as long.
"Kanaya hinted to me that a certain amphibian was of great importance in her session. I laughed once I finally realized it. I think Strider would enjoy the irony if he understood."
Casey blinks because she doesn't understand herself. She looks up and her master is watching her now, the needles suddenly still in her hands. She sets one aside, then the other, pulling it slowly out of the stitches. The loops sag there, threatening to slip through each other and fall from fabric back into yarn.
"There is a colloquial term in knitting for when you are required to unravel something before you've finished," she says, still holding Casey's eye. "Can you guess what it is?"
Casey shakes her head.
Her master smiles and she takes the fabric in one hand, the loose strand of yarn in the other, and she yanks. The loops pop and snag and pop again, the knitting unraveling in a ragged ribbit-ribbit-ribbit of yarn on yarn.
"It's known as frogging."
Her Master's smile widens into cleverness and she looks up into the burning black smog of the lava world's atmosphere.
"We'll frog this game," she says, the smile on her face and her eyes dancing. "We'll tear it back to its component pieces and then we'll build as we wish."
Casey watches her master and the ruined piece of cloth in her lap. She doesn't fully understand but a shiver runs up her spine anyway.
Destruction? Their quest is to destroy?
She's not sure how she feels about that. She stands there silently for a moment, still and thinking, and then she bends and lifts the swatch of purple from her master's lap. She holds it and weaves one of her own wands into the open loops. It's still ruined but at least it can't unravel any farther.
Casey holds it out to her master, and she's not sure how to tell her that she understands that their quest is to destroy. That she can grasp. But she refuses to let her master unravel along with everything else.
The Seer is still smiling, watching Casey idly, and her expression warms at the gesture. She sets a hand against the wand and pushes it back toward Casey's chest. "Keep it. Practice. You can make things with us, too."
She pats Casey's head fondly, and in that moment Casey knows her master understands.
By the name of Bilious Slick that was amazing. I love Casey so much.
Also: Domo origato, Mr. Meatboy? lol.
In other news, Graven, you've officially made me download I Want To Be The Guy. I hate you so much right now.