MSPA Fanfiction IV

[JudgeDeadd]

Jigsaw

no not about the creepy Saw puppets.

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The flighty, snarky broad Rose materialized in Kanaya's room with the transportalizer's familiar blip. The room's occupant herself was lying on her bed, breathing soundlessly, eyes half-closed as if after some titanic struggle. This added but another layer of concern on top of Rose's frustration cake already in place.

"Kanaya, we need to talk. To talk seriously."

Wearily, Kanaya turned her head vaguely in Rose's direction, seemingly half-dreaming. She did not respond.

Rose went on, "I am sure you know what brings me here. Technically, I'm here to ask about what have you done with my magic book. But there is more to the matter. My--our main concern is something of which your petty larceny is but a single symptom; I am talking of a much grander problem. I don't have to specify what I'm talking about, I hope."

"Ungh..." With some difficulty, Kanaya awkwardly lifted herself up to a sitting position. "Nice of you... to come here, Rose."

Rose's concern rose. "...Are you okay?" No, she isn't. She looks as if intoxicated.

"...Yes. Do not mind me. I will be okay. Why'd you come?"

"Let me begin with the facts. You entered my room a few hours ago, long before the early morning--or what passes as one in this timeless void--without invitation, cleaned up while I was asleep, and as if that was not already creepy enough, you have filched one of my books on the thaumaturgic arts."

"I don't know why you accuse me. It could be anyone. Why would I be interested in your macabre books at all? Maybe you should look around your room. Perhaps it is there, behind or under furniture."

"Why indeed. It is one of the questions I have prepared for you. Considering that you left no nook or cranny in my room unswept, it's pretty obvious that the book isn't collecting dust in some faraway corner thereof. It was there when I went to sleep, it was missing when I woke up to the disturbing orderliness."

"I am pretty sure you are more upset than you need to be. No thievery has happened."

This was most nonplussing for Rose. Even her therapeutic skills were not up to an impromptu psychoanalysis right now, especially since she was hardly an expert on xenopsychology. All she had was speculation. Is she lying? Even though she perfectly knows that it's impossible for me to believe her? Or maybe she really was not aware of her own actions? Did... did it go so far already?

So far already, indeed.

The Space domain was, on one hand, a boon, of course. Topological awareness approximating perfection; intuition nearing clairvoyance. Kanaya instinctively knew her way around everywhere, could find anything lost. And, less practically but spectacularly, could solve 1000-piece jigsaw puzzles within minutes. But, over time, the negative side-effects also became more pronounced, and bloomed to downright worrying levels lately.

What began as but an occasional quirk developed into an overwhelming obsession with tidiness.

She instictively moved things around on desks to make their arrangement more neat, and reorganized randomly scattered objects into some basic patterns. She must have thoroughly reordered her bookshelf at least a sixty times, making sure all the book spines line up exactly. During meals she carefully moved cutlery to render it completely perpendicular to the table edge.

She was the one who rose most early, and dusted furniture and cleaned up junk tirelessly while others slept.

She was quick at cleaning up, since she intuitively knew the one proper place where every object should be carried off to, but her effectiveness did nothing to rectify the fact that her habits were way past unnerving. They aggravated the other trolls and the humans and were, by now, outright debilitating for her. (Just a few days ago, during lunch, when Karkat excused himself and left the table for a minute, Kanaya habitually began to move the food around his plate to form ideal rings, and only stopped when the others verbally expressed surprise. Her face was a graven image of embarrassment.)

And now, it seemed that the orderliness demon was possessing her even more brutally than before. (Those who knew her well recalled that she showed similar mild compulsions even before the entire Sgrub affair. It might have been from these that the current affliction sprouted. That would explain why Jade avoided such calamity.)

"Kanaya, look. You know very well that you have a problem. It is affecting both you and us negatively. Stop trying to delude yourself, because it's doing nothing to help. Your compulsions are steadily getting worse. Now that they have passed a certain threshold--driven you to violation of privacy and to thievery, we must act. Help you, even against your own will."

"Help me?" That seemed to rouse the Sylph somewhat. "I appreciate the concern but I wonder how. Assuming I do need any outside help."

"We will do our best to help you through therapy. I am quite good at psychiatry. Terezi has her Mind abilities. And, if direct intervention is needed, we might employ Vriska's mind control powers. Don't sulk. I know you have some sort of an inscrutable grudge against her--"

"Not a grudge." Kanaya's voice went back to tired. "She just... brings back unpleasant memories."

"In any case, I shall get down to scheduling our therapy sessions."

"Wait. Before you proceed to do anything hasty. What makes you think I am a thief? I have taken the book, I admit. But I never intended to keep it. There it is. On the bookshelf. Hidden behind that pile of Young Rainbow series." Now she seemed reinvigorated again.

"Huh." Rose retrieved her possession gingerly. "Thanks... I guess. But I still fail to understand what were you looking for among this eldritch knowledge. Or did you just--let's not euphemize--steal it to keep it away from me? Considering your concern over the supposed wicked sway this thaumaturgical lore holds over me."

"Not really. I borrowed it to make use of the knowledge within. To learn a specific spell or two I needed."

An eyebrow, raised. "What for?"

"To make appropriate use of this." Kanaya tiredly stood up for the first time in their conversation, reached behind her bed and, grimacing from exertion, lifted a never-before-seen weapon. It had the general semblance of a chainsaw--but it was decorated with obscure runes and inscriptions, and its blade lacked separate teeth; and it radiated immaterial, serene light, as if bleeding soft blue silk. The entire contraption was subtly meandering in shape.

Purple eyes now went wide. "And what is that?"

"The alchemiter called this a 'Incanchainsaw'. An unelegant name if I ever saw one. In any case, it is what I used to perform the magic. It is a combination of that pointless wand made for Eridan, and one of my own tools. I needed to make it this way, for that is the only kind of equipment my strife specibus will let me use. By the way, it can be also collapsed into a more... practical form." Rose blinked once, and the device was gone; instead, Kanaya held a radiant tube of lipstick.

"I still don't understand what would inspire you to dabble in dark sorcery. And did you even manage to accomplish anything magical within these few hours?"

"Did I?" Now Kan was downright conceited. "Did I, indeed! Listen." With force surprising considering her fatigue, she suddenly grabbed Rose by the elbows and looked straight into her eyes. When she spoke, her voice trembled. "I was called in the middle of the night by the voice within me--the one which had been directing me before, which had been telling me to restore spatial order all around in the manner you all found insufferable. It was this voice, now mightier than ever, which directed me specifically to your room, and to that one book, with which I absconded into my quarters. And even though my knowledge of such witchcraft as yours was nil, yet, as I read and tried to comprehend and learn, the same voice whispered to me advice, tutored me throughout, and lent me miraculously quick the expertise I required."

"What is going on with you? Required for what! You're being too enigmatic! What is this mysterious magical project you keep alluding to? My God... does it have something to do with your obsessions? What did you do!"

"You'll see. Inevitably, you will all see, probably within minutes now." Now she was calm again, and pulled away.

And just then, a message blared through the seldom used PA system.

"EVERYBODY GET IN THE MAIN ROOM!" Karkat's voice was unmistakably crabby as ever, especially when filtered through the speakers. "SOMETHING BLEEDIN' WEIRD JUST HAPPENED, AND I DO HAVE AN IDEA WHO THE HELL IS RESPONSIBLE. YOU GUESSED IT, KANAYA, I MEAN YOU. YOU'VE GOT SOME BIG-TIME GODDAMN EXPLAINING TO DO."

"Exactly." Kanaya seemed entirely unfazed. "To be frank, I am a little surprised it took them so long to take a look outside the lab and see my handiwork."

Undefined fear began rising within Rose. "What have you done that nobody saw until now?"

"Nothing dangerous. Nothing malicious. More like a gift. Let's go outside, together; I'll show you. Karkat's fury-filled meeting can wait."

***

"Is that--"

In the blackness of the ruined Medium, a single bluish-green sphere hung in the distance.

"My Land," Kanaya explained. "Of Rays and of..." She went silent, and stayed such for a long while. "...The Demon smashed it into a billion pieces. It was a chore to piece it all together. But it was easy with guidance. It was like a giant jigsaw puzzle."

"A puzzle of cosmic proportions..." Rose whispered. "I see this, but cannot believe you managed to do this."

"I could only barely believe it myself. But I have accomplished it, god-tier or not. Remember the spell you used to disassemble that turtle temple? I have used a reverse version of it. It allowed me to grab every one of these scattered world-shards... many tinier than a grain of sand, some large like hills... and mentally move each back into the one place where I knew it belonged."

"It must have been unbelievably exerting."

"And it was. Especially since I was rushing it, not wanting any of you to wake up and stop me before I was finished. I have used every bit of energy I could find in my echeladder-topping body... And all the energy I could find by tapping into my Space powers. Because they always felt like something external, you know? Not really within me. In fact, I think I fainted once or twice... and yet kept on collecting the planetary debris, even in unconsciousness."

Both still looking at the distant world, Kanaya reached out and gripped her friend by the hand. She kept on talking.

"And while we're at it... As I said, I strained myself far beyond what I thought was possible. I'm still very tired. But the Space powers... That huge undertaking was their farewell."

"They're... gone?"

"All of them. In a way, I've used them all up beyond regeneration. And it feels a little empty and sad. But it is also a relief. Only now I slowly realize just how abnormally I was behaving; it felt so natural and obvious that 'proper order' must be restored at every opportunity. But now I feel I'm back to normal. And I have left behind this nice, planet-sized gift. If anything, I would say it was worth it."

"A gift which is, I presume, meant for me."

"Yes." Now Kanaya was outright smiling. Widely. "I mentioned that it was sort of a hunch from outside which made me grab your book and cast the spell. But the idea was something of my own. You had been expressing interest in my Land and mentioned that it's a pity you never got to see it. I have sometimes day-dreamt about how it would be if I somehow managed to get it back. How satisfying it would be to show you around. I guess my desires were answered."

"So, we are going on a trip there?" Rose finally joined in on the smiling.

"As soon as I'm in shape. For now, it is time to prepare for these big-time goddamn explanations expected from me."

Among the inky space, the Land's rays shined and jutted out, lending it the semblance of a star.

Atuhor's nose

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Ugh I'm so dissatisfied with this, it feels so clumsy. Still, these two are fun to write for because then I can get away with purple prose.

[Bufu]

@ JudgeDeadd: fff aww this was adorable. I really like the idea floating around that the powers have some weird setbacks as well, and holy shit Kanaya. Putting a PLANET back together, so badass. A complusively tidy badass.


alright I think somebody officially needs to write about green Dave Harley being Jade's penpal. From the alternate present. And is somehow her grandson god idk

[Caprisaurus]

I love waking up to fanfiction~
These were all really good : D

[sarasvati]

Taking a break from Daves (having issues with Violet) to give you something different, with people I don't usually write.


Painted Blue

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Though the magnitude of the ensuing destruction resulting directly from your actions will be neither possible or necessary for you to fathom...

Space splits and time rends, players stand on either side of the rift. Twelve facing four (three for each; a boon or a curse? Who knows)

Space splits and time rends.

He crosses the rift, borne by breath (his friends close behind, riding Light or the fabric of the Scratch itself.)

It's all her doing, of course. They may h8te her, but without her it couldn't have been done. It's all part of her plan, perfect. They couldn't see what she's seen, but she stole the Light and in the Light she saw fortune and fortune she weaves to her command.

The whole pattern isn't visible to her yet. She's been working with only three fourths of the puzzle – so much of it thus far only seen through windows. But she knows this – the broken pieces of two null sessions might be made whole if the two are joined. Hence the unleashing of the Demon. Hence the death, hence the pain; all along it's because she knows – join two universes and gain a new more perfect world.

The best world possible.

And it will be her doing.

She smiles, and she leaps into the void, before any of the others. She smiles, and she reaches her hand to John, her wings unfurling behind her.

Their fingers touch.

And then she sees at last.

It happens, as do all things involving the demon, so quickly she can barely think. And she realizes. Of course he does this on his way to greet them in the distant past. Of course.

In the background, the dragon watches her fall. The dragon smiles, and flips a coin.

There are two past-futures.

Blue and red.

Red blood coats the blade. The Heir is dead.


The dragon flips the coin.


There are two past-futures.

Vriska's eyes widen and she sees at once eight paths reflected; her eyes widen and she acts without thought; God-wings of light unfurl and already she is in the way, for all the good it does.

Her fingers brush his and he is painted in a different kind of blue. Blue blood coats the demon's blade. The heir catches her as she falls.

It is enough of a distraction that Knight Maid Witch and Sylph are able to warp the demon away, change time and space to send him into the past.

They all remember now. The blade was blue when he arrived. Time re-knits and she, too, remembers differently. Or had it always been so?

There nevertheless ought to be a silver lining.

The Heir is safe. That's all that matters, now.

okay i hate vriska and everything she stands for so the fact that i love this is testament to how well it's written. the picture this paints is gorgeous, very delicate and abstract yet wholly real. i'm a collector of words and phrasing, so i spend half my time reading dissecting and taking out the words and phrases i love most of all, but i can't do that with this. the way they weave into the whole is what makes them so good. fabulous job, lucid.

A friend asked me to write a Post-Sburb fic based on Vienna Teng's song "Recessional." I thought it turned out pretty interesting, to say the least! Dave/Jade.

And this moment, now.

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Dave had counted the years since they finished their session.

Time passed by, and the four kids drifted apart slowly. Dave had needed space, he said; the others had similar reasons, things that they felt that they couldn’t share for one reason or another. Jade had left America almost as soon as she had entered it, claiming she needed the peace of her island. John had taken after his father, going to high school and perhaps becoming the only normal one of them all. And Rose, genius that she was, took off for some private school in upper New York, writing them all letters in precise purple ink and graduating early.

The fifth year since Sburb, Dave sat in the Buffalo airport, stealing a few moments of quiet in the multifaith center he had located. He wasn’t religious - far from it actually. But it was the quietest part of the airport, especially now that all flights out had been canceled in lieu of a snowstorm.

Fuck this snow. Dave huddled in his jacket, sunglasses still perched on his face as they had been for years. Snow was not his element; that was Jade’s whole thing. Briefly, he wondered if she would have enjoyed it, playing in the snow tonight. Kids kept walking by the door to the little chapel, begging and pleading their mothers to let them go outside, just for a few minutes. But rather than thinking of the brats with their dirty hands grabbing onto the snack food of the moment, he thought of Jade again. She would have begged to go outside too, once upon a time. Her face, close to Dave’s own, was red and chapped from the wind.

“What a coincidence.” A soft voice spoke near his shoulder, startling him. Dave realized he had been dozing, and pushed his glasses up as a protection measure before looking for the source. A familiar girl sat in the chair next to him, black hair neatly contained under a fuzzy blue hat and a blue and green suitcase at her feet.

“Jade. What are you doing here?” Dave was surprised, though he kept his cool; if the past five years had taught him anything, it was how to play a brilliant poker face. “Aren’t you supposed to be on your godforsaken island, digging holes in the grass and praying for a new building to sprout or something?” She laughed quietly, obviously trying to contain her enthusiasm in respect for the sacred place they sat in. Still, Jade was quieter than Dave remembered, less prone to outbursts of enthusiasm.

“I was visiting Rose, of course! But I got stuck in the snowstorm just like you did. Didn’t you come up here to say hello, too?” Of course, she knew the answer. It was no, just like always; Dave didn’t believe in saying hello to his friends any more. They rarely spoke; Rose was the only person that attempted to keep regular contact with anyone, and then only the bare minimum. It was all facts from her: graduation announcements, a signed copy of her first book. They were eighteen years old, and she was the only one who could really call herself a success in life.

“I was just passing through. Coming back from Canada.” Dave kept it vague; he didn’t like people to know that he roamed from city to city, often taking DJ jobs before getting tired and quitting. He could never find a home since Bro had disappeared, and the apartment with it.

“That sounds cold,” Jade admitted. She shivered unconsciously, pulling a coat out of one of the bags at her feet and putting it on. Dave recognized it as the one she had made long ago, in Sburb, and felt he should say something. But what did you say to a girl who was stuck in the past? Sburb felt so disconnected from life, now. Dave was an artist, Rose was on her way to becoming famous, John was finally living his movie-esque life, and Jade...was Jade, the same as always.

They spent the night in silence after that, Jade quickly falling asleep. Some time before, she had curled her hand around his, their fingers lacing. Dave hadn’t even noticed, so preoccupied was he in his own thoughts. Finally, she had put her head down on his shoulder, immediately falling asleep. Dave couldn’t help but laugh slightly at this long-standing habit of falling asleep instantaneously. He wondered if she still had bad dreams, and squeezed her hand when she whimpered unconsciously. It seemed so perfect, the Knight and the Witch, still together after all of this time. Dave wasn’t sure what Jade meant by holding his hand, but he refused to let go or move during her nap. Instead, he turned his attention to the people surrounding him. Flights began to move again as morning neared, and people slowly shuffled to their destinations. Dave wondered if Jade had missed her flight, but he was too invested in letting her sleep to wake her up and ask. Finally, she stirred, hair falling in front of her face as she righted herself and stretched.

“Good morning...” Jade yawned, running a hand through her unruly hair. Sometime during her long nap, her hat had fallen off and landed in her lap, leaving her hair in tangles. She brushed her hand through it, and Dave resisted the urge to do it for her. He had to keep cool for Jade, he told himself. So instead he nodded at her good morning, eyes indiscernible behind his sunglasses. The girl stood up, brushing off her corduroy skirt and gathering her things.

“You’re leaving? Wait, you just got here--” suddenly, Dave wasn’t sure what he was doing in the airport. His flight still hadn’t been called, and right now he really didn’t give a damn. All he saw was the girl in front of him, and the fact that she was escaping from him. A chance at normality, he told himself. A chance to right the fact that he hadn’t seen his friends in years, and it was slipping through his fingers as the next flight was called and she left for wherever without a goodbye.

“I’ve got to make my flight, Dave, you’re going to make me late!” Jade smiled slightly at her once-friend, still standing. She edged towards the exit of the chapel, and Dave stood up, following her. He grabbed her by the arm, turning her around to look him in the eyes.

“Fine, sure. I get that. But how the hell did you know I was in here anyway?” It wasn’t what he wanted to say, but Dave couldn’t think of a way to say anything else without sounding like a complete goober. The last thing he wanted to do was turn into Egbert right in front of Jade.

“I always know where you guys are.” Jade shrugged. “I mean, not really, and not definitively, but I just guessed...I guessed that you would be here too. And you were!” She hesitated, looking back at the exit.

“Look, that’s really creepy. You’ve gotten a whole lot more cryptic since I saw you last -- but you’ve always been into that weird psychic shit. I wanted to say that....” There was no eloquence that could replace feelings. He wanted so many things right now, the least of which being to make her stay, to skip her flight. But he couldn't do that. They hadn’t been good friends in years, and he knew that he couldn’t convince her to stay. He didn't have the right any more to tell her what to do with her life. Dave knew that it wasn’t exactly orthodox or proper at the moment, but right now he didn’t care. Pulling Jade close, he kissed her on the lips, softly, before letting her go. She stood there, obviously shocked, before turning red and replying.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around, then, Dave. Maybe in another airport somewhere?” Dave couldn’t even ask her where she was going. Instead, he stared after her as she left, the red squiddle coat clashing with her blue outfit in a way that was uniquely and strangely Jade.

--

He looked for her in every airport he went to after that. From Buffalo to Las Vegas, and Charles de Gaulle in France, Dave hoped that he would see Jade again. He could see the newest memory of her clearly: her soft, sad smile, eyes still wide and green, the faded squiddle coat hugging her frame.

Nine months and thirteen days since their first encounter, he saw her again, pulling that same blue and green suitcase through a different airport. He caught up to her as she was sitting down in a Starbucks and they talked for two hours. Jade shared her life with Dave, and he listened, too scared to break the moment by interjecting his own failure of a life into her story of new puppies and gardens and physics. They were things he could never understand.

At one year exactly, they met in the airport again, this time on their way to the same destination. Rose had invited all of them to her house to stay a week; Jade slipped her hand into Dave’s and refused to let go until the taxi they had hired delivered them to Rose’s house. Jade left his side until that night, when she slipped into Dave’s room to lie beside him in bed. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. He told himself it was for protection, but from what he wasn’t sure. Rose noticed, of course, and had the tact to move them into a slightly larger room, built for two rather than one. Not that Jade had ever been afraid of sharing personal space to begin with.

After that fleeting week of intimacy -- Dave still felt her arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a kiss, even after she was gone -- he didn’t see Jade for another year and a half, give or take a few months. This time it was another airport; Milan, Italy, where Dave had gone to explore the Italian music scene out of boredom and a need to keep moving, keep running from time.

He could not stop her as she passed.

Although Jade noticed him, and nodded to him from across the restaurant where they both sat, she didn’t approach. Dave couldn’t help but stop and stare, watching her leave him behind. Her Squiddle jacket was gone, replaced by a nicer suit that fit her perfectly. The man beside her sat too close to be merely a friend. Her hand sparkled; Dave noticed that it was a ring, diamond from the looks of it, set in a matching band to the man’s. She seemed happy at least, though he could never tell when she was hiding things from anyone; she had gotten too good at lying in the past eight years.

Of course she wouldn’t wait for him. She didn’t even know where he lived any more. Neither did he, really. As he sat at the bar, hand around a bottle of beer, Jade and the man got up and passed by, talking excitedly. Dave felt the brush of a hand in his jacket pocket as they passed. Pulling out a piece of paper, he unfolded it on the bar, reading it carefully. It was a letter from Jade; the handwriting was unmistakable, though it lacked the curlicues of earlier years.

Time’s what you make it, right? Coolkid. :] You can do it!

He left the beer on the bar, the note clenched in his hand.

fuck yes i adore this song so much, so i knew going in that this was gonna be good. was totally not disappointed at all. i'm such a huge fan of bittersweet post-sburb possibilities, and this was just very simple and subtle and lovely (and goes along with the song so well; i had it on repeat while i read). whole thing had me just internally screaming at dave to go get that girl goddamnit. love it.

[lucidSeraph]

okay i hate vriska and everything she stands for so the fact that i love this is testament to how well it's written. the picture this paints is gorgeous, very delicate and abstract yet wholly real. i'm a collector of words and phrasing, so i spend half my time reading dissecting and taking out the words and phrases i love most of all, but i can't do that with this. the way they weave into the whole is what makes them so good. fabulous job, seraph.

Actually, I hate Vriska too, with a fiery, irrational, all-consuming hate. This was (seriously!) an attempt to write something so I could come to terms with her existence. If she got her end in the comic in this way, I could almost come to like her.

She's not because Hussie has a ridiculous crush on her or something, so I'm just going to write things to make myself feel better XD

that said, thank you ^^;;

[egregiousBass]

Vriska is an amazing character. But I dislike how she just josses every attempt at figuring out what Earth's timeline looked like without troll influence. She has her unholy irons in every fire.

[JudgeDeadd]

@Sionnan you are an awesome writer. I'm reading avidly each and every installment of the Strider saga.

By the way I've fixed the italics in my "Jigsaw" and it should be a bit more readable now.

[Katrika]

A friend asked me to write a Post-Sburb fic based on Vienna Teng's song "Recessional." I thought it turned out pretty interesting, to say the least! Dave/Jade.

And this moment, now.

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Dave had counted the years since they finished their session.

Time passed by, and the four kids drifted apart slowly. Dave had needed space, he said; the others had similar reasons, things that they felt that they couldn’t share for one reason or another. Jade had left America almost as soon as she had entered it, claiming she needed the peace of her island. John had taken after his father, going to high school and perhaps becoming the only normal one of them all. And Rose, genius that she was, took off for some private school in upper New York, writing them all letters in precise purple ink and graduating early.

The fifth year since Sburb, Dave sat in the Buffalo airport, stealing a few moments of quiet in the multifaith center he had located. He wasn’t religious - far from it actually. But it was the quietest part of the airport, especially now that all flights out had been canceled in lieu of a snowstorm.

Fuck this snow. Dave huddled in his jacket, sunglasses still perched on his face as they had been for years. Snow was not his element; that was Jade’s whole thing. Briefly, he wondered if she would have enjoyed it, playing in the snow tonight. Kids kept walking by the door to the little chapel, begging and pleading their mothers to let them go outside, just for a few minutes. But rather than thinking of the brats with their dirty hands grabbing onto the snack food of the moment, he thought of Jade again. She would have begged to go outside too, once upon a time. Her face, close to Dave’s own, was red and chapped from the wind.

“What a coincidence.” A soft voice spoke near his shoulder, startling him. Dave realized he had been dozing, and pushed his glasses up as a protection measure before looking for the source. A familiar girl sat in the chair next to him, black hair neatly contained under a fuzzy blue hat and a blue and green suitcase at her feet.

“Jade. What are you doing here?” Dave was surprised, though he kept his cool; if the past five years had taught him anything, it was how to play a brilliant poker face. “Aren’t you supposed to be on your godforsaken island, digging holes in the grass and praying for a new building to sprout or something?” She laughed quietly, obviously trying to contain her enthusiasm in respect for the sacred place they sat in. Still, Jade was quieter than Dave remembered, less prone to outbursts of enthusiasm.

“I was visiting Rose, of course! But I got stuck in the snowstorm just like you did. Didn’t you come up here to say hello, too?” Of course, she knew the answer. It was no, just like always; Dave didn’t believe in saying hello to his friends any more. They rarely spoke; Rose was the only person that attempted to keep regular contact with anyone, and then only the bare minimum. It was all facts from her: graduation announcements, a signed copy of her first book. They were eighteen years old, and she was the only one who could really call herself a success in life.

“I was just passing through. Coming back from Canada.” Dave kept it vague; he didn’t like people to know that he roamed from city to city, often taking DJ jobs before getting tired and quitting. He could never find a home since Bro had disappeared, and the apartment with it.

“That sounds cold,” Jade admitted. She shivered unconsciously, pulling a coat out of one of the bags at her feet and putting it on. Dave recognized it as the one she had made long ago, in Sburb, and felt he should say something. But what did you say to a girl who was stuck in the past? Sburb felt so disconnected from life, now. Dave was an artist, Rose was on her way to becoming famous, John was finally living his movie-esque life, and Jade...was Jade, the same as always.

They spent the night in silence after that, Jade quickly falling asleep. Some time before, she had curled her hand around his, their fingers lacing. Dave hadn’t even noticed, so preoccupied was he in his own thoughts. Finally, she had put her head down on his shoulder, immediately falling asleep. Dave couldn’t help but laugh slightly at this long-standing habit of falling asleep instantaneously. He wondered if she still had bad dreams, and squeezed her hand when she whimpered unconsciously. It seemed so perfect, the Knight and the Witch, still together after all of this time. Dave wasn’t sure what Jade meant by holding his hand, but he refused to let go or move during her nap. Instead, he turned his attention to the people surrounding him. Flights began to move again as morning neared, and people slowly shuffled to their destinations. Dave wondered if Jade had missed her flight, but he was too invested in letting her sleep to wake her up and ask. Finally, she stirred, hair falling in front of her face as she righted herself and stretched.

“Good morning...” Jade yawned, running a hand through her unruly hair. Sometime during her long nap, her hat had fallen off and landed in her lap, leaving her hair in tangles. She brushed her hand through it, and Dave resisted the urge to do it for her. He had to keep cool for Jade, he told himself. So instead he nodded at her good morning, eyes indiscernible behind his sunglasses. The girl stood up, brushing off her corduroy skirt and gathering her things.

“You’re leaving? Wait, you just got here--” suddenly, Dave wasn’t sure what he was doing in the airport. His flight still hadn’t been called, and right now he really didn’t give a damn. All he saw was the girl in front of him, and the fact that she was escaping from him. A chance at normality, he told himself. A chance to right the fact that he hadn’t seen his friends in years, and it was slipping through his fingers as the next flight was called and she left for wherever without a goodbye.

“I’ve got to make my flight, Dave, you’re going to make me late!” Jade smiled slightly at her once-friend, still standing. She edged towards the exit of the chapel, and Dave stood up, following her. He grabbed her by the arm, turning her around to look him in the eyes.

“Fine, sure. I get that. But how the hell did you know I was in here anyway?” It wasn’t what he wanted to say, but Dave couldn’t think of a way to say anything else without sounding like a complete goober. The last thing he wanted to do was turn into Egbert right in front of Jade.

“I always know where you guys are.” Jade shrugged. “I mean, not really, and not definitively, but I just guessed...I guessed that you would be here too. And you were!” She hesitated, looking back at the exit.

“Look, that’s really creepy. You’ve gotten a whole lot more cryptic since I saw you last -- but you’ve always been into that weird psychic shit. I wanted to say that....” There was no eloquence that could replace feelings. He wanted so many things right now, the least of which being to make her stay, to skip her flight. But he couldn't do that. They hadn’t been good friends in years, and he knew that he couldn’t convince her to stay. He didn't have the right any more to tell her what to do with her life. Dave knew that it wasn’t exactly orthodox or proper at the moment, but right now he didn’t care. Pulling Jade close, he kissed her on the lips, softly, before letting her go. She stood there, obviously shocked, before turning red and replying.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around, then, Dave. Maybe in another airport somewhere?” Dave couldn’t even ask her where she was going. Instead, he stared after her as she left, the red squiddle coat clashing with her blue outfit in a way that was uniquely and strangely Jade.

--

He looked for her in every airport he went to after that. From Buffalo to Las Vegas, and Charles de Gaulle in France, Dave hoped that he would see Jade again. He could see the newest memory of her clearly: her soft, sad smile, eyes still wide and green, the faded squiddle coat hugging her frame.

Nine months and thirteen days since their first encounter, he saw her again, pulling that same blue and green suitcase through a different airport. He caught up to her as she was sitting down in a Starbucks and they talked for two hours. Jade shared her life with Dave, and he listened, too scared to break the moment by interjecting his own failure of a life into her story of new puppies and gardens and physics. They were things he could never understand.

At one year exactly, they met in the airport again, this time on their way to the same destination. Rose had invited all of them to her house to stay a week; Jade slipped her hand into Dave’s and refused to let go until the taxi they had hired delivered them to Rose’s house. Jade left his side until that night, when she slipped into Dave’s room to lie beside him in bed. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. He told himself it was for protection, but from what he wasn’t sure. Rose noticed, of course, and had the tact to move them into a slightly larger room, built for two rather than one. Not that Jade had ever been afraid of sharing personal space to begin with.

After that fleeting week of intimacy -- Dave still felt her arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a kiss, even after she was gone -- he didn’t see Jade for another year and a half, give or take a few months. This time it was another airport; Milan, Italy, where Dave had gone to explore the Italian music scene out of boredom and a need to keep moving, keep running from time.

He could not stop her as she passed.

Although Jade noticed him, and nodded to him from across the restaurant where they both sat, she didn’t approach. Dave couldn’t help but stop and stare, watching her leave him behind. Her Squiddle jacket was gone, replaced by a nicer suit that fit her perfectly. The man beside her sat too close to be merely a friend. Her hand sparkled; Dave noticed that it was a ring, diamond from the looks of it, set in a matching band to the man’s. She seemed happy at least, though he could never tell when she was hiding things from anyone; she had gotten too good at lying in the past eight years.

Of course she wouldn’t wait for him. She didn’t even know where he lived any more. Neither did he, really. As he sat at the bar, hand around a bottle of beer, Jade and the man got up and passed by, talking excitedly. Dave felt the brush of a hand in his jacket pocket as they passed. Pulling out a piece of paper, he unfolded it on the bar, reading it carefully. It was a letter from Jade; the handwriting was unmistakable, though it lacked the curlicues of earlier years.

Time’s what you make it, right? Coolkid. :] You can do it!

He left the beer on the bar, the note clenched in his hand.

Oh my god I love that song.

[bluelantern]

Hey, a little fan fic help.

I need some opinion about simbolism, and what is more proper

there will be 5 players based on the chinese elements. My doubt is what would be the best way to place them. The chinese elements have two sets of organizations that can be (in a short description) be classified as "creation cycle" or "destruction cycle", my doubt what is the better to simbolize the client-server relatioship.

the creation cycle: could simbolize how the server helps the construction of the client's player house and also it's planet.

the order would be: Earth <- Fire <- Wood <- Water <- Metal

the destruction cycle: relates to the destruction of the world, and also with the control that the "server" player has over the client's enviroment.

the order would be: Earth <- Water <- Fire <- Metal <- Wood OR Earth <- Wood <- Metal <- Fire <- Water

[lucidSeraph]

Hey, a little fan fic help.

I need some opinion about simbolism, and what is more proper

Symbolism; get ye a spellchecker

there will be 5 players based on the chinese elements. My doubt is what would be the best way to place them. The chinese elements have two sets of organizations that can be (in a short description) be classified as "creation cycle" or "destruction cycle", my doubt what is the better to simbolize the client-server relatioship.

the creation cycle: could simbolize how the server helps the construction of the client's player house and also it's planet.

the order would be: Earth <- Fire <- Wood <- Water <- Metal

the destruction cycle: relates to the destruction of the world, and also with the control that the "server" player has over the client's enviroment.

the order would be: Earth <- Water <- Fire <- Metal <- Wood OR Earth <- Wood <- Metal <- Fire <- Water

I think ultimately you'd want a Creation cycle, since that's the ultimate goal of Sburb.

[Kawa]

I think ultimately you'd want a Creation cycle, since that's the ultimate goal of Sburb.

Seconded. It seems fitting enough. This is me looking forward to it.

[FieryBlacksmith]

You know, after seeing the trailer for TES V: Skyrim, I can't help but picture this in a setting where John is the Dovahkiin. And the Salamanders doing the omnious/badass Nordic chanting.

"For the Heir, for the Heir, for the sake of Skaia.
For our life, for LOWAS, for the Slumberer's blood.
For fireflies and the wind,
For the sole single heir.
Heir of Breath, our king, who put out the fi-RE!
GLUB!"

For those of you who do not know what I'm talking about:

[precariouslyAware]

A friend asked me to write a Post-Sburb fic based on Vienna Teng's song "Recessional." I thought it turned out pretty interesting, to say the least! Dave/Jade.

And this moment, now.

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hide spoiler

Dave had counted the years since they finished their session.

Time passed by, and the four kids drifted apart slowly. Dave had needed space, he said; the others had similar reasons, things that they felt that they couldn’t share for one reason or another. Jade had left America almost as soon as she had entered it, claiming she needed the peace of her island. John had taken after his father, going to high school and perhaps becoming the only normal one of them all. And Rose, genius that she was, took off for some private school in upper New York, writing them all letters in precise purple ink and graduating early.

The fifth year since Sburb, Dave sat in the Buffalo airport, stealing a few moments of quiet in the multifaith center he had located. He wasn’t religious - far from it actually. But it was the quietest part of the airport, especially now that all flights out had been canceled in lieu of a snowstorm.

Fuck this snow. Dave huddled in his jacket, sunglasses still perched on his face as they had been for years. Snow was not his element; that was Jade’s whole thing. Briefly, he wondered if she would have enjoyed it, playing in the snow tonight. Kids kept walking by the door to the little chapel, begging and pleading their mothers to let them go outside, just for a few minutes. But rather than thinking of the brats with their dirty hands grabbing onto the snack food of the moment, he thought of Jade again. She would have begged to go outside too, once upon a time. Her face, close to Dave’s own, was red and chapped from the wind.

“What a coincidence.” A soft voice spoke near his shoulder, startling him. Dave realized he had been dozing, and pushed his glasses up as a protection measure before looking for the source. A familiar girl sat in the chair next to him, black hair neatly contained under a fuzzy blue hat and a blue and green suitcase at her feet.

“Jade. What are you doing here?” Dave was surprised, though he kept his cool; if the past five years had taught him anything, it was how to play a brilliant poker face. “Aren’t you supposed to be on your godforsaken island, digging holes in the grass and praying for a new building to sprout or something?” She laughed quietly, obviously trying to contain her enthusiasm in respect for the sacred place they sat in. Still, Jade was quieter than Dave remembered, less prone to outbursts of enthusiasm.

“I was visiting Rose, of course! But I got stuck in the snowstorm just like you did. Didn’t you come up here to say hello, too?” Of course, she knew the answer. It was no, just like always; Dave didn’t believe in saying hello to his friends any more. They rarely spoke; Rose was the only person that attempted to keep regular contact with anyone, and then only the bare minimum. It was all facts from her: graduation announcements, a signed copy of her first book. They were eighteen years old, and she was the only one who could really call herself a success in life.

“I was just passing through. Coming back from Canada.” Dave kept it vague; he didn’t like people to know that he roamed from city to city, often taking DJ jobs before getting tired and quitting. He could never find a home since Bro had disappeared, and the apartment with it.

“That sounds cold,” Jade admitted. She shivered unconsciously, pulling a coat out of one of the bags at her feet and putting it on. Dave recognized it as the one she had made long ago, in Sburb, and felt he should say something. But what did you say to a girl who was stuck in the past? Sburb felt so disconnected from life, now. Dave was an artist, Rose was on her way to becoming famous, John was finally living his movie-esque life, and Jade...was Jade, the same as always.

They spent the night in silence after that, Jade quickly falling asleep. Some time before, she had curled her hand around his, their fingers lacing. Dave hadn’t even noticed, so preoccupied was he in his own thoughts. Finally, she had put her head down on his shoulder, immediately falling asleep. Dave couldn’t help but laugh slightly at this long-standing habit of falling asleep instantaneously. He wondered if she still had bad dreams, and squeezed her hand when she whimpered unconsciously. It seemed so perfect, the Knight and the Witch, still together after all of this time. Dave wasn’t sure what Jade meant by holding his hand, but he refused to let go or move during her nap. Instead, he turned his attention to the people surrounding him. Flights began to move again as morning neared, and people slowly shuffled to their destinations. Dave wondered if Jade had missed her flight, but he was too invested in letting her sleep to wake her up and ask. Finally, she stirred, hair falling in front of her face as she righted herself and stretched.

“Good morning...” Jade yawned, running a hand through her unruly hair. Sometime during her long nap, her hat had fallen off and landed in her lap, leaving her hair in tangles. She brushed her hand through it, and Dave resisted the urge to do it for her. He had to keep cool for Jade, he told himself. So instead he nodded at her good morning, eyes indiscernible behind his sunglasses. The girl stood up, brushing off her corduroy skirt and gathering her things.

“You’re leaving? Wait, you just got here--” suddenly, Dave wasn’t sure what he was doing in the airport. His flight still hadn’t been called, and right now he really didn’t give a damn. All he saw was the girl in front of him, and the fact that she was escaping from him. A chance at normality, he told himself. A chance to right the fact that he hadn’t seen his friends in years, and it was slipping through his fingers as the next flight was called and she left for wherever without a goodbye.

“I’ve got to make my flight, Dave, you’re going to make me late!” Jade smiled slightly at her once-friend, still standing. She edged towards the exit of the chapel, and Dave stood up, following her. He grabbed her by the arm, turning her around to look him in the eyes.

“Fine, sure. I get that. But how the hell did you know I was in here anyway?” It wasn’t what he wanted to say, but Dave couldn’t think of a way to say anything else without sounding like a complete goober. The last thing he wanted to do was turn into Egbert right in front of Jade.

“I always know where you guys are.” Jade shrugged. “I mean, not really, and not definitively, but I just guessed...I guessed that you would be here too. And you were!” She hesitated, looking back at the exit.

“Look, that’s really creepy. You’ve gotten a whole lot more cryptic since I saw you last -- but you’ve always been into that weird psychic shit. I wanted to say that....” There was no eloquence that could replace feelings. He wanted so many things right now, the least of which being to make her stay, to skip her flight. But he couldn't do that. They hadn’t been good friends in years, and he knew that he couldn’t convince her to stay. He didn't have the right any more to tell her what to do with her life. Dave knew that it wasn’t exactly orthodox or proper at the moment, but right now he didn’t care. Pulling Jade close, he kissed her on the lips, softly, before letting her go. She stood there, obviously shocked, before turning red and replying.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around, then, Dave. Maybe in another airport somewhere?” Dave couldn’t even ask her where she was going. Instead, he stared after her as she left, the red squiddle coat clashing with her blue outfit in a way that was uniquely and strangely Jade.

--

He looked for her in every airport he went to after that. From Buffalo to Las Vegas, and Charles de Gaulle in France, Dave hoped that he would see Jade again. He could see the newest memory of her clearly: her soft, sad smile, eyes still wide and green, the faded squiddle coat hugging her frame.

Nine months and thirteen days since their first encounter, he saw her again, pulling that same blue and green suitcase through a different airport. He caught up to her as she was sitting down in a Starbucks and they talked for two hours. Jade shared her life with Dave, and he listened, too scared to break the moment by interjecting his own failure of a life into her story of new puppies and gardens and physics. They were things he could never understand.

At one year exactly, they met in the airport again, this time on their way to the same destination. Rose had invited all of them to her house to stay a week; Jade slipped her hand into Dave’s and refused to let go until the taxi they had hired delivered them to Rose’s house. Jade left his side until that night, when she slipped into Dave’s room to lie beside him in bed. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. He told himself it was for protection, but from what he wasn’t sure. Rose noticed, of course, and had the tact to move them into a slightly larger room, built for two rather than one. Not that Jade had ever been afraid of sharing personal space to begin with.

After that fleeting week of intimacy -- Dave still felt her arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a kiss, even after she was gone -- he didn’t see Jade for another year and a half, give or take a few months. This time it was another airport; Milan, Italy, where Dave had gone to explore the Italian music scene out of boredom and a need to keep moving, keep running from time.

He could not stop her as she passed.

Although Jade noticed him, and nodded to him from across the restaurant where they both sat, she didn’t approach. Dave couldn’t help but stop and stare, watching her leave him behind. Her Squiddle jacket was gone, replaced by a nicer suit that fit her perfectly. The man beside her sat too close to be merely a friend. Her hand sparkled; Dave noticed that it was a ring, diamond from the looks of it, set in a matching band to the man’s. She seemed happy at least, though he could never tell when she was hiding things from anyone; she had gotten too good at lying in the past eight years.

Of course she wouldn’t wait for him. She didn’t even know where he lived any more. Neither did he, really. As he sat at the bar, hand around a bottle of beer, Jade and the man got up and passed by, talking excitedly. Dave felt the brush of a hand in his jacket pocket as they passed. Pulling out a piece of paper, he unfolded it on the bar, reading it carefully. It was a letter from Jade; the handwriting was unmistakable, though it lacked the curlicues of earlier years.

Time’s what you make it, right? Coolkid. :] You can do it!

He left the beer on the bar, the note clenched in his hand.

Gog. So beautiful. I adore everything about it.

[decidingly]

@Katrika: I love that song as well, now! 25 repeats later.

fuck yes i adore this song so much, so i knew going in that this was gonna be good. was totally not disappointed at all. i'm such a huge fan of bittersweet post-sburb possibilities, and this was just very simple and subtle and lovely (and goes along with the song so well; i had it on repeat while i read). whole thing had me just internally screaming at dave to go get that girl goddamnit. love it.

@Sarasvati Thank you! I'm glad you liked it! :]

@precariouslyAware Thanks! I wasn't sure how Post-Sburb fics were accepted around these parts, but I'm glad to see people are enjoying it.

[Wigmund]

A Storybook Story
Part 6 (Previous parts linked in signature below)

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Eventually, the day of the wedding arrived. And deep within the Thieves' Forest, the Brute Squad and the Enforcers had their hands full carrying out the Prince's orders. Several wagons sit nearby, packed to the brim with battered and bloody thieves and other criminals. Neppin stands astride one of the wagons yelling orders to her brutes.
":DD < *The Ch33f Enfurcer asks her assistant brute whether or not all of the th33ves have been captured*"
The assistant brute looked up at her and shook his head. With that she leapt down to him and he indicated that someone was giving them troubles.
">:(( < Well, give him more trouble!"
And then as the wagon beings to move out, she climbs back onto it, hissing at the thieves inside.

The assistant brute sighs and makes his way to the source of his trouble. He reaches a derelict tavern that a fighter is sprawled out in front of, a majestic-looking hammer in the hand that doesn't have a tankard of ale in it. The man swings the hammer lazily in front of him, keeping anyone from approaching him.

"Vriskini, I'm waiting! You told me to go back to the beginning, so I have.
This is where I am, and this is where I'll stay. I will not be moved."

John takes a long drink from his tankard, but stops when he notices the assistant brute approach.
"You can fuck off shithead. I ain't leaving."
The assistant brute backed up when John waves the hammer at him. He tries in vain to explain that the Prince gave them orders to round everyone up and that life would be so much easier if John just came along with them quietly.
"Fuck your order. Vriskini also gave me orders.
When a job went wrong, you went back to the beginning.
And this is where we got the job.
So it's the goddamned beginning, and this is where I shall stay until Vriskini comes for me."

With that, the assistant brute waved over an even larger brute to come deal with this.
"I. Am. Waiting. For. Vriskini."
"uh, You are kind of drunk and a bit mean."

John turns around when he feels a massive hand on his shoulder. He then looks up into a familiar face.
"uh, Hi."
"You."
"Yep."
When Tavrik distracted John, the assistant brute pulled out a diamond-tipped spear and walked up to stab the drunkard. But he is stopped when he meets Tavrik's fist.

The assistant brute sails across the street and Tavrik winces when he hears a nasty crunching noise as the man collides with something hard and immobile. Then the giant picked up and took a good look at his poor drunken friend.
"um, You don't look so good."
John responded with a belch.
"And you don't smell, uh, so fine either."
"I'm fine Tavrik, I'm fine."
"Okay, if you say so."
And with that, Tavrik put down John. Who promptly collapsed forward, out cold.

Tavrik helped nurse his friend back to health and he spent the time catching Egberto up on what had happened since the Cliffs of Insanity. He told John of Vriskini's death and about the existence of the purple-haired douche, Count Eridan. Considering John's years-long search. He took the new rather well.

By passing out yet again.

Tavriks took great care in reviving his friend, who was more than eager to find his prey.

"Where is this Eridan so I may kill him?"
"uh, He's at the castle with the Prince.
Unforunately, the castle gate is guarded by thirty men."
John stopped and thought for a moment.
"How many can you handle?"
"No more than ten. Sorry."
"Shit. That leaves twenty for me. Way too many.
Damn, if Vriskini was here - she'd come up with a great plan."
"But she's kinda dead."
"Wait - we don't need her.
We need that Black Vigilante."
"Who?"
"The man in black who beat us and rescued the Princess.
Look, he bested you with strength. He bested me with steel. He must have out-thought Vriskini and someone who can do that must be able to plan a castle onslaught any day. Let's go find him!"
Tavrik gave his formerly drunken, but now dangerously sober, friend a worried look.
"But we don't know where he is John."
"Small details.
Finally, after so many years, my love's soul will finally be able to rest."
John spun to face Tavrik and gripped his collar to pull his down level with the smaller man. A demonic grin split his face.
"Tonight there will be blood!!!!!!!!"


Back at the castle, Prince Striderdink is once again in his room. Papers, maps and small figures strewn everywhere. There was a knock at the door, Neppin entered and kneeled in front of his master.
"How'd it go?"
":33 < *The Ch33f Enfurcer and her new friends had fun purrtying with those naughty th33ves.
And now she and thirty guards watch over the gate*"
"How many times must I tell you to stop talking like that?
But anyways, double the guard. My Princess must be safe."
">:]] < There's only one key to the gate, and I have that underneath my cap."

Neppin flipped up her cap, showing hair that no one had ever seen before as well as the key nestled in a tangle. Just as she did that, Butterjade entered the room.

"Ah! My love. Tonight is the big night and tomorrow morning we will set sail with every ship in my armada to our honeymoon."
"You mean every one but the four fastest."
Striderdink looked at her blankly.
"Every ship except those four you sent with my letters..."
"Oh, of course."
":|| < I need to get back to the gate."
With that the catgirl bound from the room. Quite quickly.

But Butterjade just stood there and stared at the Prince.
"You lie."
"What?"
"You never sent those ships. But that doesn't matter.
Kartley will come for me."
"You silly derpy girl."
"Yes, I am silly and derpy. But it is only for not noticing what a coward you are."
With this Striderdink stood up behind his desk and started to stalk towards the Princess.
"I'd be careful with what I say right now if I were you..."
"You can't hurt me. Kartley and I are joined by the bonds of love. And you cannot track that. Not with a thousand huntsbeasts. And you cannot break it. Not with a thousand swords. And when I say you are a coward, that is only because you are the slimiest weakling ever to crawl the earth."

Suddenly Striderdink bolted forward and grabbed Butterjade's neck. His shades slipped and showed his red eyes, filled with furious rage.
"You really should learn to fucking SHUT UP!"
He then dragged her from his chambers down to her own. He tossed the choking girl in, slammed the door shut and locked it, then broke into a run down the corridors.


Down in The Pit, Kartley is still hooked up to The Machine. Count Eridan is nearby still writing notes in his book when the Prince barged in, in a bloody rage. The Prince stomped up to Kartley and stared him down.

"You might actually love each other, and you might have been truly happy.
Not one couple in a millenia has that chance, no matter what the stories say.
And with that, you should fucking suffer far more than anyone else has."

Striderdink went over to the lever control and took hold-
"Not to fifty!!!"
-which is exactly what the Prince cranked the lever to.

The Machine suddenly sprang to life, a furious demonic life and Kartley started to scream.

It was a scream of absolute pure pain, anguish and rage. It was the Vast Scream. And it rose, louder and louder.

At the castle gates, Neppin and her sixty brutes heard it. They all cowered in fear as the horrible noise continued to build.

Butterjade in her room heard it. She hugged herself out of fear and listened to the Scream. Which continued to rise.

In the Capital City, people heard it. Dogs and cats began to howl. Children ran and hid with their parents. People just stopped and listened to the horrible noise, too terrified to do anything else.

John and Tavrik heard it as they made their way through the crowded City market. John stopped and listened.
"Tavrik! Tavrik, you hear that?"
Tavrik had covered his ears, but nodded in agreement.
"That is the sound of ultimate suffering. My heart made that sound when I was forced to watch Eridan slay my Rose. And our new friend makes it now."
"The Black Vigilante?"
"Yes, his true love is marrying another against her will, so who else would have a reason to scream like that."

John started to try and force his way throw the crowd. But it's too packed and he can't get anywhere and the sound is starting to fade.

John looks up to his friend for help. Tavrik sighs and puts his hands up to his mouth.
"uh...Everybody...MOVE!!"
With that enormous bellow a path miraculously appeared to let them through.
"Thanks."
And the two ran off towards the fading Scream.


Back in the grove of gnarled trees near the Pit, the assistant is trying to steer a wheelbarrow to the appropriate tree. But he's stopped short when he feels John's hammer lightly tap the back of his head.
"Where is the Black Vigilante?"
The assistant looked at the two and shook his head.
"There's a secret entrance to wherever his is, right?"
Silence.
"Tavrik, help his memory."
Tavrik brought one of his large fists down on the man's head. Knocking him out cold.
"uh, oh dear. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to help him so hard."

Tavrik looked at John who wasn't paying attention. Instead his friend was kneeling, the hammer's handle tightly gripped in his grasp, his eyes closed as he mutters to himself.
"Rose, I have failed you for far too long. But now our misery can end.
Somewhere nearby is the one person can help us. But I cannot find him alone.
I need you. I need your light. Please guide me."
John rose to his feet, eyes closed, hammer outstretched.
"Guide me, my love."

John slowly started walking, Tavrik following him in fear. Eventually the hammer bumps into a tree. John opens his eyes and tries to figure out why he was led her. Nothing, he can't find anything.
"DAMMIT!"
With that scream of rage, John smashed his hammer into the tree. Shattering the hidden doorway and revealing the stairs down into the earth.

He and Tavrik glance at each other and walk down the stairs. They find Kartley still strapped into The Machine. Quiet and unmoving.

John rushed up to the body, removed the straps and searched for a beat. He then lowered his head and sobbed.
"He's dead."

================================================== ===

"The duelist shook with grief as he muttered, "It's just not fair.""

"Wait Daddy! Wait!"
Karkat once again stopped and looked at his daughter. She was sitting on the edge of her bed watching him rapturously.
"What did John mean, "He's dead?"
He can't mean dead."
Karkat just watched his daughter.
"Kartley's only faking, right?"
"Do you want me to continue?"
"But who gets that bastard Striderdink?"
"What do you mean Kade?"
"Who kills Prince Striderdink? At the end.
Someone has to. Is it John?"
"Well...no one does. He lives."
"What!? Jegus, Daddy!
Why are you reading me this?"

The little girl starts to try and contain herself as Karkat stood up and comforted her.
"You know what, you're still sick and you're getting worked up. I think I'm going to stop for right now."
He starts to close the book, but is stopped when Kade grasps him in a fierce hug.
"NO! Please don't! I want to hear what happens next!"

Karkat sat back down and started to read again.
"Alright, I'll keep going.
Let's see, we were in the Pit of Despair..."

================================================== ===

John and Tavrik stand over the body of the dead Black Vigilante.
"I've never been one to accept defeat easily.
Tavrik, grab the body and let's go."
"uh, The body?"
"You have any money?"
"Um, a bit."
"Well, I hope it's enough for a miracle."

A/N:

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Yet more of the Princess Bride knock-off. At the rate I'm going through this, there are hopefully only a few more parts and then the epilogue.

I hope you are all enjoying this.


In other news - the recent Homestuck updates plus this formspring answer make me very happy.

[precariouslyAware]

Okay, here's another part (or 2 parts?)
Hope you like it? Thanks for reading!!

SECOND CHANCE part 2a &2b

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It had been about 4 sweeps since the trolls had ceased contact with the humans. Some, like Terezi Pyrope, believed this to be the best option in order to successfully rebuild Trollian society. After the humans barely helped with defeating the Demon- which was their fault anyway- they were only a hindrance. A menace, even. They didn't understand Trolls and never would. They couldn't seem to wrap their grubby little heads around the fact that trolls and humans were two completely different species!

Then, of course, there were those like Kanaya Maryam and Karkat Vantas. Kanaya always went on about how great it was to study their culture and 'Maybe we could learn a thing and we could them a thing or two! In order to progress as a society, it's important to study the strong and weak points of different cultures.' As for Karkat, well, he had never been quite clear about why he was adamant with keeping in contact. Every now and then he'd mumble something about, 'Gives us something to do when we're bored, can't deny the entertainment value of a good mindfuck. After all, we did create them.'

Terezi's argument concerning humans being a different species and no real asset to a successful Trollian society won out over Karkat's meek point of 'entertainment value'. When Kanaya brought up her idea of studying their culture for intellectual value, Terezi quickly shot it down with, 'What could we possibly learn from a culture as fucked up as that? They have only weak points. If they haven't learned anything from us yet, there's no hope for them. Face it. They’re fucked.'

And that was that. Terezi won out a close vote, and the issue was dropped. A lot of the trolls thought the argument itself was causing more issue than simply trolling the humans to building their society back up. They were indifferent to the issue at hand and were just happy to see it as a non-issue. But Karkat and Kanaya never forgot about it. It was important to them, and now Karkat had an idea. It was so simple; he couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it before.

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"Serket. Listen. I need your help with something." Karkat sat next to Vriska, which was received with an aggrivated huff and a more-than-less-welcome glare. Ah, the typical greeting of Vriska Serket.

"Excuse me Vantas. I don't 8elieve in the word help. Especially when you are involved. I’m busy anyway." Vriska turned her head back to the screen.

"Work? At this hour? Lame." Another mean glare. Karkat decided to change his angle. "Okay, I obviously didn't start out on the right horn there. Kanaya and I--" Vriska slammed her hands down on the lab work.

"I don't give a damn about what's going on between you two!!!!!!! If you're waxing red for her, you don't have to ask my permission. She and I are history. That was SWEEPS ago!!!!!! I don't have time to worry about stupid quadrants right now Vantas. Especially yours! I have work to do."

"Um. That's not..what I…Okay. Whatever Serket." Dumbfounded, Karkat slowly stood up and wandered back to the table with Kanaya. She raised her eyebrows with a hopeful glance. "Forget it. I have no idea what just happened. I barely said a word and that bitch thought I was trying to talk quadrants." Disgruntled, Karkat sat down and slammed his head down on the table. Simple idea. Right.

Kanaya quietly got up and walked timidly over to Vriska's work corner. "Hey Vriska. Please don't shoo me away. Just let me explain what is going on, okay?" Vriska paused for a short moment, but then returned to her logs without even looking up at Kanaya. "Karkat and I are not looking for any quadrant help." She paused, giving Vriska a chance to respond. Nothing. "This actually doesn't concern quadrants at all. Karkat and I are merely allies…And we were hoping that you'd help us out with a…project."

This time, Kanaya wasn't expecting anything other than the non-reaction she had previously been receiving. Which is why she jumped a little when Vriska, with no break in her work style, responded flatly with, "I don't take sides and I don't help." Kanaya took a breath but reconsidered her next thoughts. She glanced over to Karkat and motioned for him to join her.

"It concerns-" Kanaya glanced around to see who else was in the lab and lowered her voice, "It concerns continuing contact with our human allies." At that, Vriska stopped her work short and gave a long search in Kanya's eyes, then over to Karkat.

"Like the majority of us, I don't give a shit about the issue. I know you care less about what the others think, but you're only asking for trouble from Terezi and her ruthless, power-hungry followers."

Karkat didn't waste a second. "But we can hack the security system!"

"Not without Sollux's help. And there's no way you'll convince him to risk his ass for you. Even if you are his moirail." Vriska gave Karkat a skeptical, disproving look.

And with a scheming sneer, Karkat knew he had it. "Nope. But that's where YOU come in, Serket."

A/N

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Still searching for a better title. I encourage any feedback you might have!!

[Kassiopeia]

Well. This happened. Andrew mentioned on his formspring that for every dead Dave, there are doomed instances of all the other kids as well. Here is a universe in which they continue the struggle, with assistance from an unexpected quarter.

Notes From A Doomed Timeline II: Symphony In Quartz

1: Eleventh Hour

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Dave doesn't expect to die. Not here in his own apartment, warm, brightly-lit, and secure. He was just going to get some apple juice from his closet, for god's sake. Instead there's a tall beetly fucker standing in the middle of his bedroom, with a sheaf of Dave's personal papers clutched in his claw-like hands.

"Ah, Mr Strider," says the guy, a small smile on his chitinous face. His voice is smooth and urbane, like that one vicious Geography teacher Dave had once encountered. Man wielded sarcasm like a fucking blade - but why in the name of fuck is he remembering this now? Jesus, Strider, focus.

"'sup," says Dave. Aliens in his bedroom. Not something a guy sees every day, but it's cool, he can handle it.

"I suppose you're going to threaten me, are you?" says the man.

"Nope," says Dave, "Just havin' a polite conversation with a dude."

"I see," says the man. His carapace glistens as though it has been oiled, licorice-black like vinyl.

"Pretty sure we'll all be sippin' tea round the fire like old British ladies any minute now," says Dave, "Civilest motherfuckers since Miss Marple. Two sugars for me, hold the milk. Yeah."

He's babbling and he knows it, because the tall man is holding an evil-looking spear, and Dave isn't sure he can get to the door in time.

"That's good to know, Strider," says the man, "Because I have some questions for you." He takes a step forward, and Dave finds himself shrinking against the wall. It's obviously a tactical maneouvre, he reassures himself. No shame in making a little gesture of submission if it helps everyone get out of here alive. And it's not just him, is it? He needs to get that game installed and help Rose out, toot fucking sweet.

"Yeah? Ask away, bro," says Dave.

"Where is the book?" The man advances, the spear held loosely in one long-fingered hand. It has a slender diamond-shaped blade, rendered in some pale metal whose small grooves and crevices are already stained crimson.

"Never been much of a reader," says Dave, "Got some comic books in my shelves. Take 'em. Hell, I can take you to the public library if you've really got that much of an avid booklust goin' on."

"Don't be facetious with me, Strider," says the man. His voice is like black treacle, and he is running a fingertip along the edge of his blade. "I require the book of genetic code compiled by Miss Lalonde."

"Rose?" says Dave, "Man, Lalonde's only into books about monster squid and wizards and shit. Unless you've travelled the galaxy to get your hands on some steamy Harry Potter fanfiction, you're outta luck."

For a moment, the tall man seems to falter, his beady eyes narrowing in annoyance.

"Ah. I appear to be early. My mistake," he murmurs, "And my apologies."

His arm moves in a graceful arc and suddenly the spearblade is in Dave's gut. He chokes, a shameful spluttering noise of shock and pain. Blood splashes on the floor, soaking into the floorboards and the fabric of a stray puppet. Bro is going to be so pissed.

The man thrusts again with the spear, sending lances of agony throughout Dave's body. He tries to cry out for his brother, but he's already fading. The crows flutter overhead, black fragments like scraps of space. They come closer, closer, and Dave is falling into a night sky darker than any he has known.

* * *

It is noon, but the sun is dim. A dull red light lies across the land, as though the air is full of blood. Rose lies on her bed, a sheet drawn over her, more for security than warmth. Her computer beeps at her, but it has been making plaintive noises for a while now, and she has nothing more to say to John. The distant roar of fire and crash of falling pines mingles with the endless murmur of the waterfall. White noise. It's almost soothing. Her heart is thumping, and every time she remembers the truth of her situation it begins its maniacal dance again. She is going to die, from fire or flood or falling rock, and it is going to be soon. Almost worse is the knowledge that Dave is already gone.

She has done what she can for John. He is in some other land, far from the conflagration outside. His place looks serene, shaded by trees and washed by the wind. She wonders how long he will last there alone. How long Jade will sleep on, unaware of the death of her friends. It's all so unfair.

She takes up her pen.

I believe at this stage it is customary to make one's peace with family and friends, she scrawls, However, my mother appears to be absent, and my friends are, respectively, deceased, asleep, and already overburdened with grief. I will however say that my brief time on Earth has been both pleasant and worthwhile and I should like to tell you all how grateful I am for

Well, that sounds as though she's thanking them politely for an unwanted Christmas present. This is absurd. Words have always been copiously available to her, but she can't seem to shape them into anything but prickly, precise sentences, and that's not what she needs right now. If there was some way to tell them all what she has been, what she has thought, what she has loved, and how even now her heart opens up like a blooming flower to think of them all. Red light flickers along the walls, brighter and closer, and she realises that time is running out.

"You're writing a suicide note, aren't you?" says a soft voice, and she jumps.

"Yes," said Rose, "This whole godforsaken situation was entirely intentionally self-devised, for purposes of Strideresque irony. More importantly, who in the name of bugfuck insanity might you be?"

The girl sitting on the end of her bed is tall and thin, with a mop of long, glittering hair, but the firelight is behind her, and Rose can barely make out her features.

"My name is Aradia," says the girl quietly. There is something odd about her voice - if Rose didn't know better, she would have said it had the quality of echo.

Rose sits up in bed, wiping her eyes and peering at the stranger. "Rose Lalonde. But I am assuming that you already knew that."

"Yes," said Aradia, "You believe that you are about to die, and against every stalwart instinct of your character, you are abandoning all hope."

"Not to put too melodramatic a spin on it, all hope has been bodily wrested from me," says Rose, "Without a server player, there is nothing I can do to escape. And Dave is lost."

"Speaking as one who has only recently escaped, quite literally, from the land of foregone conclusions, I can state that you are entirely mistaken. The session will continue."

Rose says nothing. She supposes she ought to have a healthy curiosity regarding the provenance of the intruder. Instead, she simply doesn't care. She lies down again, pulling the sheet over her head and waiting for this incomprehensible stranger to disappear.

"I will take over as your group's Time player," says Aradia, apparently caring little that Rose is ignoring her. "And all will be well."

And if that isn't the most outrageous lie in the history of paradox space, she doesn't know what is.

A/N

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Yes, another doomed timeline. Obviously doesn't follow the first chronologically, but it shares some similarities in tone and theme. This one will, however, be focused on Dave, Jade and Aradia (because writing Rose comes easily and I need a challenge).

[lucidSeraph]

OH MAN Kass is BACK with fanfic. Lemmie get the popcorn and camp out in here.

[egregiousBass]

Notes From A Doomed Timeline II: Symphony In Quartz

ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh

do want

[QuetzaDrake]

Yay, another NfaDT! S'what got me into the fanfic thread.

Looks interesting so far. Wondering how exactly DD and Aradia got to Earth... can't wait to see more. :u

[Lackypoo]

A friend asked me to write a Post-Sburb fic based on Vienna Teng's song "Recessional." I thought it turned out pretty interesting, to say the least! Dave/Jade.

And this moment, now.

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Dave had counted the years since they finished their session.

Time passed by, and the four kids drifted apart slowly. Dave had needed space, he said; the others had similar reasons, things that they felt that they couldn’t share for one reason or another. Jade had left America almost as soon as she had entered it, claiming she needed the peace of her island. John had taken after his father, going to high school and perhaps becoming the only normal one of them all. And Rose, genius that she was, took off for some private school in upper New York, writing them all letters in precise purple ink and graduating early.

The fifth year since Sburb, Dave sat in the Buffalo airport, stealing a few moments of quiet in the multifaith center he had located. He wasn’t religious - far from it actually. But it was the quietest part of the airport, especially now that all flights out had been canceled in lieu of a snowstorm.

Fuck this snow. Dave huddled in his jacket, sunglasses still perched on his face as they had been for years. Snow was not his element; that was Jade’s whole thing. Briefly, he wondered if she would have enjoyed it, playing in the snow tonight. Kids kept walking by the door to the little chapel, begging and pleading their mothers to let them go outside, just for a few minutes. But rather than thinking of the brats with their dirty hands grabbing onto the snack food of the moment, he thought of Jade again. She would have begged to go outside too, once upon a time. Her face, close to Dave’s own, was red and chapped from the wind.

“What a coincidence.” A soft voice spoke near his shoulder, startling him. Dave realized he had been dozing, and pushed his glasses up as a protection measure before looking for the source. A familiar girl sat in the chair next to him, black hair neatly contained under a fuzzy blue hat and a blue and green suitcase at her feet.

“Jade. What are you doing here?” Dave was surprised, though he kept his cool; if the past five years had taught him anything, it was how to play a brilliant poker face. “Aren’t you supposed to be on your godforsaken island, digging holes in the grass and praying for a new building to sprout or something?” She laughed quietly, obviously trying to contain her enthusiasm in respect for the sacred place they sat in. Still, Jade was quieter than Dave remembered, less prone to outbursts of enthusiasm.

“I was visiting Rose, of course! But I got stuck in the snowstorm just like you did. Didn’t you come up here to say hello, too?” Of course, she knew the answer. It was no, just like always; Dave didn’t believe in saying hello to his friends any more. They rarely spoke; Rose was the only person that attempted to keep regular contact with anyone, and then only the bare minimum. It was all facts from her: graduation announcements, a signed copy of her first book. They were eighteen years old, and she was the only one who could really call herself a success in life.

“I was just passing through. Coming back from Canada.” Dave kept it vague; he didn’t like people to know that he roamed from city to city, often taking DJ jobs before getting tired and quitting. He could never find a home since Bro had disappeared, and the apartment with it.

“That sounds cold,” Jade admitted. She shivered unconsciously, pulling a coat out of one of the bags at her feet and putting it on. Dave recognized it as the one she had made long ago, in Sburb, and felt he should say something. But what did you say to a girl who was stuck in the past? Sburb felt so disconnected from life, now. Dave was an artist, Rose was on her way to becoming famous, John was finally living his movie-esque life, and Jade...was Jade, the same as always.

They spent the night in silence after that, Jade quickly falling asleep. Some time before, she had curled her hand around his, their fingers lacing. Dave hadn’t even noticed, so preoccupied was he in his own thoughts. Finally, she had put her head down on his shoulder, immediately falling asleep. Dave couldn’t help but laugh slightly at this long-standing habit of falling asleep instantaneously. He wondered if she still had bad dreams, and squeezed her hand when she whimpered unconsciously. It seemed so perfect, the Knight and the Witch, still together after all of this time. Dave wasn’t sure what Jade meant by holding his hand, but he refused to let go or move during her nap. Instead, he turned his attention to the people surrounding him. Flights began to move again as morning neared, and people slowly shuffled to their destinations. Dave wondered if Jade had missed her flight, but he was too invested in letting her sleep to wake her up and ask. Finally, she stirred, hair falling in front of her face as she righted herself and stretched.

“Good morning...” Jade yawned, running a hand through her unruly hair. Sometime during her long nap, her hat had fallen off and landed in her lap, leaving her hair in tangles. She brushed her hand through it, and Dave resisted the urge to do it for her. He had to keep cool for Jade, he told himself. So instead he nodded at her good morning, eyes indiscernible behind his sunglasses. The girl stood up, brushing off her corduroy skirt and gathering her things.

“You’re leaving? Wait, you just got here--” suddenly, Dave wasn’t sure what he was doing in the airport. His flight still hadn’t been called, and right now he really didn’t give a damn. All he saw was the girl in front of him, and the fact that she was escaping from him. A chance at normality, he told himself. A chance to right the fact that he hadn’t seen his friends in years, and it was slipping through his fingers as the next flight was called and she left for wherever without a goodbye.

“I’ve got to make my flight, Dave, you’re going to make me late!” Jade smiled slightly at her once-friend, still standing. She edged towards the exit of the chapel, and Dave stood up, following her. He grabbed her by the arm, turning her around to look him in the eyes.

“Fine, sure. I get that. But how the hell did you know I was in here anyway?” It wasn’t what he wanted to say, but Dave couldn’t think of a way to say anything else without sounding like a complete goober. The last thing he wanted to do was turn into Egbert right in front of Jade.

“I always know where you guys are.” Jade shrugged. “I mean, not really, and not definitively, but I just guessed...I guessed that you would be here too. And you were!” She hesitated, looking back at the exit.

“Look, that’s really creepy. You’ve gotten a whole lot more cryptic since I saw you last -- but you’ve always been into that weird psychic shit. I wanted to say that....” There was no eloquence that could replace feelings. He wanted so many things right now, the least of which being to make her stay, to skip her flight. But he couldn't do that. They hadn’t been good friends in years, and he knew that he couldn’t convince her to stay. He didn't have the right any more to tell her what to do with her life. Dave knew that it wasn’t exactly orthodox or proper at the moment, but right now he didn’t care. Pulling Jade close, he kissed her on the lips, softly, before letting her go. She stood there, obviously shocked, before turning red and replying.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around, then, Dave. Maybe in another airport somewhere?” Dave couldn’t even ask her where she was going. Instead, he stared after her as she left, the red squiddle coat clashing with her blue outfit in a way that was uniquely and strangely Jade.

--

He looked for her in every airport he went to after that. From Buffalo to Las Vegas, and Charles de Gaulle in France, Dave hoped that he would see Jade again. He could see the newest memory of her clearly: her soft, sad smile, eyes still wide and green, the faded squiddle coat hugging her frame.

Nine months and thirteen days since their first encounter, he saw her again, pulling that same blue and green suitcase through a different airport. He caught up to her as she was sitting down in a Starbucks and they talked for two hours. Jade shared her life with Dave, and he listened, too scared to break the moment by interjecting his own failure of a life into her story of new puppies and gardens and physics. They were things he could never understand.

At one year exactly, they met in the airport again, this time on their way to the same destination. Rose had invited all of them to her house to stay a week; Jade slipped her hand into Dave’s and refused to let go until the taxi they had hired delivered them to Rose’s house. Jade left his side until that night, when she slipped into Dave’s room to lie beside him in bed. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. He told himself it was for protection, but from what he wasn’t sure. Rose noticed, of course, and had the tact to move them into a slightly larger room, built for two rather than one. Not that Jade had ever been afraid of sharing personal space to begin with.

After that fleeting week of intimacy -- Dave still felt her arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a kiss, even after she was gone -- he didn’t see Jade for another year and a half, give or take a few months. This time it was another airport; Milan, Italy, where Dave had gone to explore the Italian music scene out of boredom and a need to keep moving, keep running from time.

He could not stop her as she passed.

Although Jade noticed him, and nodded to him from across the restaurant where they both sat, she didn’t approach. Dave couldn’t help but stop and stare, watching her leave him behind. Her Squiddle jacket was gone, replaced by a nicer suit that fit her perfectly. The man beside her sat too close to be merely a friend. Her hand sparkled; Dave noticed that it was a ring, diamond from the looks of it, set in a matching band to the man’s. She seemed happy at least, though he could never tell when she was hiding things from anyone; she had gotten too good at lying in the past eight years.

Of course she wouldn’t wait for him. She didn’t even know where he lived any more. Neither did he, really. As he sat at the bar, hand around a bottle of beer, Jade and the man got up and passed by, talking excitedly. Dave felt the brush of a hand in his jacket pocket as they passed. Pulling out a piece of paper, he unfolded it on the bar, reading it carefully. It was a letter from Jade; the handwriting was unmistakable, though it lacked the curlicues of earlier years.

Time’s what you make it, right? Coolkid. :] You can do it!

He left the beer on the bar, the note clenched in his hand.

Damn, that is really bittersweet. I'm not usually a Dave/Jade fan, but I like how you handled their relationship here.

Here's chapter three of my fanfiction, in which I come closer to finishing the setup and the long-winded exposition.

Chapter two can be found here.

Derelict Dreams: Chapter 3

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“So you told her everything?”

“Everything that I could remember. Which, at this point, is pretty much everything.”

It’s eight in the evening the next day. Rose decided to call me rather than pester me online. Talking with her is always a pleasant surprise, unless she starts psychoanalyzing. Then I threaten to hang up.

This time, however, I started the topic about my dream. Aradia was right, whether I want to admit it or not; if my dream is affecting her, then it’s something serious. I’m not completely ruling out logical explanations, but I thought I’d give her and Rose the benefit of a doubt by acknowledging their suggestions.

“What were her thoughts?”

“She didn’t give me a clear answer,” I replied while fetching a glass of water. “You know how vague she is. What I boiled her response down to was ‘interesting,’ which tells me shit. And yeah, I caught her little ‘I don’t want to be wrong about this’ comment. That’s what scares me most. Still though, dead girl coulda given me something more to work with instead of just taking everything I have and going back to her creepy little corner of the universe to pick it apart like a clock. You’d think being dead and all, she’d be more logical, I guess. ‘Work together’ kind of a deal, but nope. At least I’m not paying her.”

I took a sip of water and let Rose chip in her two cents. “I’ll agree that I find her behavior a little suspicious. However, I think she made a wise decision keeping any relevant information to herself. She probably didn’t want you jumping to conclusions either, especially since this is affecting you the most. Also, if you had any extra information, it could disrupt the structure of this dream world. Despite how bizarre it is, your dream is still a dream. Your subconscious might still have an effect on the dream, which could lead to further complications for your mental state.”

“My what?” I stated incredulously. “What did you just say?”

Rose sighed, and I braced myself for lengthy exposition. “Dave, even though you say this dream does not affect your life, it does. I have noticed this over the past several months. You’re a little testy now compared to your usual banter. You told me yourself that you’re losing some weight. And every time you wake up from that dream, you scream. Scream, Dave. That is not something a normal person would do on a regular basis. And now Aradia is worried enough that she contacted you after eleven years of complete silence. When a dead troll indicates that your issues are cause for concern, you can be sure that this is serious. Do me a favor and think about your workplace. Do your coworkers or employers make any comments about your physical condition?” She pauses and I think. It doesn’t take long before I realize she’s right. I grudgingly concede a point to her psychoanalysis. “I know you like to play the tough guy, Dave, but it is time we deal with this problem. And I hate to say I’m right, but we should have confronted this problem months ago.”

“I did,” I begin to protest. “I tried some pills, I saw some kooks like you, I took a bunch of time off for health reasons, and none of it worked. So what makes you think-“

“Please let me finish, Dave.” With a huff, I let her speak. “If Aradia’s suspicions are correct, then this dream most likely cannot be dealt with by normal methods. We will have to dig deeper and assume what you’ve been afraid to assume.” She pauses once more, this time for dramatic effect. She wants me to finish, and I’m reluctant to do so. But she won’t be satisfied until she hears the words come from my own mouth.

“This has something to do with Sburb.”

I hear a content hum on the other end and I’m very tempted to hang up. “Our session was full of glitches. Even paradoxically speaking, ours was far removed from the standard template thanks to Jade’s meddling. It is possible that our session, and I speak of the alpha timeline, has not completely ended.”

I finish my glass of water and look at the clock on my wall. It’s antique, hand-crafted bronze with a traditional clock face. I was passing by a flea market one day and it was the only thing that caught my eye. I bought it on a whim but don’t even pay it any mind. Now I’m looking at it and I’m reminded of the Land of Heat and Clockwork. “Alright.” I cave in and I can easily imagine Rose’s smug expression. “It’s Sburb. And I’ve got a problem. Nak nak nak. Now patch me up and give me a piece o’ candy, doctor, I’m ready to go scrape my knee again.”

“You can go, but I’m keeping the candy on the grounds that you should not have scraped your knee in the first place.” Well played, Lalonde. In a snark-off, she is simply the best there is. “If it is alright with you, I would like to contact Aradia before trying anything. She might be willing to share her conclusions with me.” Once again, I concede because Rose probably knows what’s best right now. “I should go; I have a long day tomorrow. Goodnight, Dave.”

“Goodnight.” She hangs up first. I can never do that. It’s embarrassing to admit, but I never want to stop talking to her. She makes me feel better, even with those psychoanalysis stunts. It’s easier to ignore the headaches when I talk with her.

A moment later, my phone rings again. “Hello?”

“One more thing,” Rose replies. “Do not tell John or Jade about what is happening. Especially Jade since the trolls are now a factor. There is no reason to involve them until it is deemed absolutely necessary. If they ask about the dream, tell them that everything is normal.” I grunt. “Well, insofar as the past year is concerned. Goodnight.”

She hangs up again and I ready a drink for the oncoming headache.

[Zizzo]

I really shouldn't be on the forums because lol impending exams and a distinct lack of revision going on, but today's weather is delighted noises with occasional fits of glee because more NfaDT! That faint sussurrus you hear is the eternal yesssssss I am throwing over this thread, or possibly the sound of a hundred unread flashcards calling out for vengeance.

[SkaianRedeemer]

No comments on Shipping Wall? Shock! Well, maybe not. Size thing. But still, shock. EquiusNepeta is always great to read, or any fic, really.

@Kass: Looks like it's going to be good! Though your Dignitary seems to have changed a bit in voice from the last Doomed Timeline, if I may say so.

[Kassiopeia]

You guuuuys You're all far too kind. I am working on the next part at this very moment.
(@Skaian yeah, point taken. In my defence, I think it's fair enough that he would behave differently around Dave than Jack. But we shall see what you think of his interactions with Aradia in the next chapter!)

[SkaianRedeemer]

(@Skaian yeah, point taken. In my defence, I think it's fair enough that he would behave differently around Dave than Jack. But we shall see what you think of his interactions with Aradia in the next chapter!)

Yeah, that makes sense. And of course, however you prefer them to be portrayed. Goodness knows I don't bother to keep much consistency between separate fics, though this one is a sequel.