MSPA Fanfiction V: We're Going to Need More Wands

[Hazel]

Also, on a completely different topic, how do you guys get the ideas for your fanfics?

I look at art, listen to music, seek out fanfic prompt memes, read the IDE thread and occasionally devour brainwaves.

Speaking of which, I scoured captchalogue and I can't seem to be inspired to write something derpy and ridiculous in this vein. Anyone want to prompt me? I do a lousy Vriska and a mediocre Dave, but other than that, I can swing most things.

ETA: Pagetopper anxiety.

[lucidSeraph]

Also, on a completely different topic, how do you guys get the ideas for your fanfics?

Uh

I wake up in the middle of the night screaming mostly.

Okay to be fair most of the ways I get mine are "Hmm, I wonder if I did X, what would that cause?" Violetesence, for instance, was because I met an RDV Jade on Livejournal, then found art of Purple Dave, and went holy shit what would a Dave Lalonde be like, he probably wouldn't be too into Lovecraft or wizards and he'd be all about irony, but he still needs TEH TERROR and ... dude! House of Leaves! YEAH.

others are kind of just reactions to updates?

honestly broseph we pull this out of our asses. also it's kind of the question writers hate most.



really I get my ideas from the bleak whispers of horrors from beyond space.

[Kassiopeia]

All my fanfiction ideas are art ideas that grew too complex. I see everything in colour and texture first, I guess?

Same with original fiction. Everything grows from one or two stark images. I don't really know if it's the right way to write but it's pretty much how things happen for me.

[DJ-P0N3]

Here is part 1.
Oh god I hope this isn't too bad.

All the names should be given thanks to Katrika and ToreadorTornado, who helped make these names actually quite awesome.
Without further ado and ass kissery
I present

GENDERBENT

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Melani Nomura stands inside her hive awaiting something, though she is unsure of what. A light flickers on above her head and for a moment this absurdity is welcomed. It soon reads a rather derogatory and unflattering sort of phrase that she is far from willing to put up with, she takes her sickle and slices it in two. Sticking with her current name rather than such racist slander.

She returns to her things and figures now is a fine time to describe herself. She speaks aloud for no one to hear, “Well where do I begin?” She proceeds to speak of the pigtails in her gray hair and the dark gray lipstick she enjoys wearing. Her outfit is also rather monochromatic. A rather frilly dress in gray, dark gray, and white. She informs no one that it is a theme she does so enjoy through its majestic simplicity, but she supposes you wouldn’t understand, even if you were really there. Her collar has a symbol on it representing the astrological sign Cancer; however that is neither relevant nor true in the troll world, so needless facts be ignored.


She glances at her room briefly; the walls are covered in posters about her favorite romance movies. Each one of them is a testament to financial extortion and sappy love stories. She would never admit to loving each one of these movies to death, but then again she doesn’t care. She would eat a weird bug and not even notice. Then she glances at her Recuperacoon for a moment and ponders if what her best friend Harley says is true about the spoor slime, she dabs a finger in and goes for a lick as her Trollian messanger, which happens to only be a beta, well speak of the devil.

It’s her now.

Show trollog

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-- teasinglyCharismatic [TC] began trolling culturalGenerator [CG] --
TC: how ARE you MY sister?
CG: mother of GOD what on alternia do YOU want?
TC: nothing ACTUALLY my SISTER.
TC: besides CHECKING up ON my BEST motherfucking GIRLFRIEND of COURSE.
CG: you know I hate the inconsistent BULLSHIT of your damn QUIRK right?
CG: because I do.
CG: ):<B
TC: yeah YOU mention THAT a HELL of A lot SISTER.
TC: i guess i just don’t…
TC: get it?
TC: when i try to type like this it just makes me un-fucking-comfortable.
TC: you JUST have TO go WITH what FEELS right TO you AND shit.
TC: you KNOW?
TC: girlfriend.
CG: remind me to ask myself what the HELL I DID to get stuck with such a lousy GIRLFRIEND like you.
CG: or is it something i am going to do to DESERVE THIS SHIT?
CG: it is possible i am just the UNLUCKIEST FUCK to ever LIVE.
TC: isn’t FRIENDSHIP fucking AMAZING?
TC: even IF it IS a DISEASE.
CG: oh PLEASE.
CG: friendship is the biggest mistake i have ever MADE.
CG: EVER.
CG: |:B
TC: is A miracle.
CG: mother of GOD don’t you dare start with THAT BULLSHIT again!
CG: D:<B
TC: sister EVERYWHERE i LOOK i SEE...
TC: miracles HAPPENING all OVER the PLACE.
TC: it IS fucking INSPIRING.
TC: so DEEP and MEANINGFUL and SHIT.
TC: just OPENED myself A bottle OF this GREAT fucking NOOKSNIFFING good FAYGO and IT is BUBBLING and SHIT.
TC: how DOES it DO that?
TC: i BET its MIRACLES.
CG: oh dear LORD you are an IDIOTIC BITCH.
CG: that is just carbonation. see if you were actually SCHOOLFED on this SHIT you would legitimately know SOMETHING other than the CRAP you believe.
CG: like your stupid god damn miracles.
CG: ):<B
TC: whoa NOW sister YOU can JUST stop THERE.
TC: i DON’T want TO know ABOUT that SHIT.
TC: don’t STEAL the MOTHERFUCKING magic THAT is MY miracles.
TC: alright GIRLFRIEND?
CG: the only MIRACULOUS thing I have ever seen or heard of is your LOVE of that SOPOR SLUDGE you are supposed to SLEEP IN.
CG: not to MENTION how SLUTTY you dress.
CG: now that I think about it there are a LOT of miracles.
CG: mainly regarding your dumbass, but still.
CG: MIRACLES.
TC: told YOU my GIRLFRIEND.
TC: miracles ARE everywhere.
TC: like HOW we ARE talking RIGHT now?
TC: fucking MIRACLES.
TC: that’s WHAT.
CG: god damn you.
CG: god DAMN YOU for making me read that SHIT.
TC: nevermind THAT sister TELL me WHAT is UP for YOU.
TC: so SUP girlfriend?
CG: what?
CG: ?:B
TC: i HEARD some SHIT was GOING down.
TC: wanted TO know WHAT the FUCK it WAS girlfriend.
CG: could you stop CALLING ME girlfriend?
CG: its really PISSING ME OFF.
CG: ):<B
CG: wait do you mean TA’s thing?
TC: yeah I do.
TC: she IS doing SOME pretty NEAT fucking SHIT right NOW.
TC: coding LIKE a
TC: like A
CG: don’t you DARE SAY IT.
TC: miracle!
CG: god FUCKING DAMN YOU TO THE SHITTIEST PART OF HELL.
TC: something WRONG girlfriend?
CG: I am going to BLOCK YOU.
CG: I will unblock you when you aren’t being such a DUMB BITCH.
TC: goodbye THEN girlfriend.
TC: honk :o)
-- culturalGenerator [CG] blocked teasinglyCharismatic [TC] --
CG: honk. C:B

Harley Augost stands in her hive looking at the chatlog she just had with Melani. She never understood that girl, but she supposed it was part of what made them such great friends. Because they didn’t understand each other, they just were happy to talk one another. She doesn’t understand much, but Harley does understand the fun of practical jokes and clowns. She has a large pile of horns she sleeps on fairly often, despite her Recuperacoon being the actual artifact for her rest. She takes a hearty swig of her Faygo and admires her hive.

There is a multitude of varying seashells of different texture, design, and color hot glued onto her walls. She collects them from the beach whenever she visits the beach, which is actually the next thing on her agenda of miracle induced stupidity.

She captchalogues her Husktop and a Faygo for the road. She stands in awe at the amazing wide array of colors that flash before her. Her Sylladex swaps between various colors and moves constantly creating such a tantalizing view she can never resist it. She dabs her fingers in some spoor pie and takes a small lick.

Delicious.

Of course now she is feeling slightly dizzy. Faygo and Sopor pie does that to Harley’s mind, though she loves the way it makes her feel. She crawls upon her unicycle and tries to balance on it. She sways back and forth for a few minutes before losing her balance and falling forward into her horn pile.

She hits the metallic end of one of her horns; it makes a loud cracking noise. She sits up and notices a small puddle of purple fluid on the horns. She places a hand to her nose and wipes. “Oh my what the fuck is this shit?” She asks to herself.

It seems she had possibly broken her nose by these shenanigans. She doesn’t seem to care, in fact, she just gets off the pile and licks the blood out from under her nose. Before she decides to leave her home she equips herself with a juggling club. She is often spacey and idiotic, but she knows it is a bad idea to leave the house unarmed.

“Off I go like a motherfucking queen!” She giggles a fairly short distance out of her home to the beach to collect more shells.

Harley arrives shortly and begins to traverse the shoreline, skimming the sand for shells. She picks up a few cones and clams before she hears a ringing noise. Taking a gander at her miracle modus she spots that someone is trying to message her via Trollian. She kneels down and begins to pray to her Mithful Messiahs. She splashes a dash of special stardust in her face, prompting her to sneeze. Spraying her purple blood and snot shooting out, she giggles and soon feels a hard hit to the back of her head.

She collapses on the ground unconscious. It seems her miracle modus expelled the Faygo from before right into her noggin, in bounced off and landed into the water where it slowly began to sink. She wasn’t going to be answering that friend of hers any time soon, nor will she wake up as soon as one would hope. Let’s leave her alone and go to someone else, shall we?

Melani is currently busy trying her hand at coding. She has worked on a project for some time with the help of her ~ATH manual and her friend Zethia Amfion. She is a lot better at coding than Melani is, but she’s okay with that mainly because she isn’t a huge geek like Zethia and actually has fashion sense beyond jeans and a T-shirt. Then again Zethia’s simplistic outfit and personality may be why Melani enjoys having her as a friend so much.

She has sent Melani files, but to this day Melani can not make heads or tails of them. She would never admit that to Zethia, she likes to let her think the two of them are as smart as each other. Even if it is not the case. A quick peek at one and already her head begins to hurt, all this stupid coding and bifurcation of this is so stupid. Melani closes the file and notices someone messaging her.

She is beginning to suspect whomever she is thinking about will speak to her on this crummy messenger. She hopes that really isn’t the case.

Show trollog

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-- twotimedAngel [TA] began trolling culturalGenerator [CG] --
TA: melmel ii don’t want you two flip your 2hit but ii have 2et you up play a game wiith a few other troll2.
CG: why would I flip my SHIT about THAT?
CG: ?:B
TA: becau2e you tend two flip your 2hiit at everythiing.
CG: well quite clearly my SHIT is right here.
CG: and it is not BEING FLIPPED.
CG: so obviously I am not FLIPPING MY SHIT right now.
CG: so this must be a DAMN MIRACLE.
TA: oh my go2h plea2e tell me you are not gettiing iinto that miiracle2 crud that TC ii2.
CG: HELL NO.
TA: phew.
CG: miracles are like a STAIN on the LUSCIOUS FABRIC ON THE DRESS OF SPACE AND TIME.
TA: makiing fun of the uniiver2e? ii diidn’t know you had iit iin you.
CG: well I don’t see WHY NOT.
CG: the universe is full of SHIT just like GOD.
TA: hahahaha #:D
CG: oh lord are you trying to make an EMOTE again?
CG: |:<B
TA: #:S
TA: doe2 thii2 not work eiither?
CG: face it, your twin horns make it IMPOSSIBLE to have a proper emoticon.
CG: it’s just how it works.
TA: well alriight.
TA: now can we get back two what ii wa2 2ayiing?
CG: sure WHATEVER.
TA: well alriight.
TA: the game ii 2et you up for ii2 a lot like a 2iimulatiion .
TA: to put iit 2iimply iit ii2 2ort of nece22ary for us two play for the 2ake of our race.
CG: so you are making up CRAP so I actually play with you IDIOTS?
TA: iit2 not a liie melmel. AA dug iit up and ii 2tarted working on iit.
TA: adapted iit, iif you wiill 2ay.
TA: and iit ii2 nece22ary that we play iit iin order to 2ave our race.
CG: wait, AA?
CG: HE is part of THIS?
CG: okay now I know the two of you are just FUCKING WITH ME.
TA: would you ju2t beliieve me on thii2?
TA: ii promii2e iif ii am lying you can hiit me all you want later.
CG: …
CG: as much as I WANT?
TA: a2 hard a2 you want.
CG: well alright then.
CG: I look forward to punching you in your STUPID FACE.
CG: ciao.
TA: ii am not done dii2cu2iing iit wiith you.
CG: oh.
CG: DXB
TA: there are two team2.
TA: red and blue.
CG: oh hahahahaha.
CG: I get it!
CG: Like your glasses!
TA: ye2 liike my gla22e2. hahahahaha.
TA: care to gue22 who the team leader2 are?
CG: well I am guessing one is ME, right?
TA: actually no.
TA: GC ii2 goiing to be team leader for red and ii wiill be leader for red.
CG: haha okay REALLY?
CG: making the blind boy be your rival?
CG: do you have a THING for him?
TA: that ii2 nowhere near true melmel.
CG: whatever you SAY. I am off to spread the RUMOR right NOW.
TA: oh plea2e don’t!
CG: my finger is SLIPPING!
CG: I am about to MESSAGE EVERYONE.
TA: oh nooooooo!
TA: DX#
CG: just MESSING with YOU. oh my gosh, you do.
TA: ii do not!
CG: yeah WHATEVER. see you later TA.
TA: bye melmel.
-- twotimedAngel [TA] ceased trolling culturalGenerator [CG] --

Author's notes

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Q: how long will this follow the same road HIVEBENT did?
A: Until all the trolls are introduced I will stick to as close of canon as a genderbent AU can.

Q: do you think you made their personalities slightly stereotypical of goofy teenage girls?
A: Possibly.
I think it is going to be most notable with Melani and Zethia. Harley seems to be a lot like Gamzee, so who knows.

Q: so what plot twists do you have in mind.
A: Doc Scratch is now a woman.
This changes everything.
Go cry in your bed because you suddenly understand jackshit.
only the trolls genders have been changed.

[Twigwise]

Lucid your Purple!Dave is awesome. And MSB I don't know what I just read but it was pretty awesome.

So I wrote kind of a character-study Rose thing :/

Resent

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You suppose that any number of other children your age would kill to be in your position. Your mother is gone for a good amount of the time, leaving you with the freedom to do as you please when you please it. And when she is home, her behavior could best be described as doting, as all she ever seems to do is ask what you want, how your studies have been going, what the last book you read is, is there any movie you would like to go see. You you you. When she's not drinking, but that's neither here, nor there.

You hate it. Every fiber of your being loathes this system, the science corporation that takes your mother away for weeks at a time and your mother who lets them. And you hate hate hate your mother, and how she's giving and drinking and you can't get a word in edgewise when you are having a real conversation and that the rest of the time it's "Be a dear and quiet down, would you Rosie?"

You don't know when it started. You know in your calmer moments that in reality most of your hate is absurd but in reality you couldn't care less. There are so few people you are ever in contact with that you need to direct the anger and rage somewhere and if you do so at your friends you'll lose them, and you fear that the same might happen with your mother
(and how many times did you cry yourself to sleep as a child because your mother wasn't there and once again you had forgotten how to use the grocery-delivery system and you were hungry and terrified that your mother would never come back)
So you direct it at her quietly, letting the burn be merely a smolder under the surface and you let the smoke floating up from it tint all of your words. In your calmer moments you suspect you're paranoid about it all but then you examine the Freudian evidence behind it and realize again that you've grown into the shape that the gardener chose for you.

Sometimes when you're alone you wonder how everything's gotten so far out of hand.
(you were never obsessed with wizards, but you were fond of them to a degree and when your mother found out she began showering you in magical paraphernalia that you politely accepted at first and then resented because honestly one is enough mother)
You try dropping subtle hints that the presents aren't cutting it anymore, that you don't want all this.
(the first time it was Squiddles, all of them everywhere and even though you loved them as a child you began feeling like you were a drunk that's had too much to drink, happily buzzed at first and then you just get sicker as more comes in so you took all but your favorite, the first poster and last shirt and a few others of the bunch and by the time she got home again there's a neat pile of ash in the compost heap but she never even asks)
But she keeps up with the gifts, the false penance for her absence and air-headedness. A three week leave and she brings books that you've already read. Four weeks and it's a crate of toys. Once she left for two months to come home to you dehydrated and slightly emaciated and got that horrid statue to make up for it.
(you keep all of your interests to yourself nowadays because you can't stand that she never listens as you explain them or tries to understand the nuances but instead keeps dumping material items on you when all you need is for her to listen)

You loathe her so, but the hardest thing is knowing that you could never truly hate her. In the end, she is the one who gave you life and bothers to spend money on you, and even though she's doing it all wrong and is a horrible parent Fluthulu knows she tries. Just not enough. Never enough.
(so you curl up in bed at night when she's home and listen to her tapping through the observatory and kitchen and into her liquor room and wish that even though you are nearly thirteen she was sitting in your room with you reading a book or listening to you because when she's here you feel even more alone than usual)
You just hope that she never asks you if you love her.
(one time that answer would be yes and you do accept her now)
Because you don't think you could answer that in a way that keeps her around.

A/N

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Bluh bluh angst fic. I don't know where it came from and bluh bluh.

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To tell the truth though I wrote it after realizing that Rose's situation with her mom is kind of like something I had in my personal life a couple years ago so I wanted to see if it worked writing it into her perspective like that. I think it did? I don't know. I should stay clear of personal stuff :/

I hope it's alright guys.

[DeadBrain]

Hopy shit three pages already? Why are you going so fast ;_;

Welp, posting this to subscribeeeeee.

[lucidSeraph]

TT: No, I think that really, really works for Rose (haha I had a similar situation really). Nicely done.

[Sionnan]

Yaaay my first fic on thread no. 5!

Karkat and Sollux have a moment while on the meteor.

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After the first few hours, people had begun to settle down. The cool gray of the interior of the lab was starting to present as far more uncanny and desolate than they had noticed at first, and a slow chill was starting to seep in, along with the quiet revelation that a door had been closed to them forever. There was no going back.

They milled around, mostly stubbornly rooted to a computer terminal, or bugged each other. Karkat, sitting under one of the long counters that held the monitors, had his knees drawn up to his chest, arms looped over them, thinking. Next to him was Sollux's lower body, feet next to his, shifting occassionally as he puttered on his computer. Even though he'd spent his entire life without company, the added company wasn't nearly as rage inducing as he had anticipated it would be. Actually, Solux's fidgeting was a little soothing; it was something to ignore, and it wasn't so overt that he couldn't ignore it.

Even with the human detrius, both physical and intangible, floating around, it was actually.... kind of okay. The trolls' presence seemed a small defiance against the cold impassability of the lab, and for some reason, that made him feel a little better.

There was a squeak of sneakers, and Sollux dropped down to join him on the floor against the wall. He scootched back, tucking up his knees like his friend, dropping his clasped hands between his knees and then clamping them over his hands. "Fuck it's cold in space" Sollux sputtered. Karkat glanced over, noting the violent gooseflesh that had broken out on his friend's arms.

"Tch," he snorted. "If you actually ate somthing while you were still on that miserable fucking planet, maybe you could actually thermoregulate, you skinny fuck."

"Whatever." Sollux's response was as dismissive as it was tired. He reached up to rub a hand against his forehead. "It's not like this place has anything to eat."

Karkat shrugged. "Ask Gamzee for some of his disgusting fucking soda, I'm sure he'd be thrilled to share."

Sollux shuddered. "Ugh. If it didn't require forced social bonding, I almost would consider it, even with the prospect of drinking that hideous crap." He hunkered down further, trying to make his skinny frame into as much of a ball as possible. At that distance, Karkat could see the small shivers working around his body. It was actually kind of fucking pathetic; he was wearing a long sleeved shirt, so he didn't feel the cold as much. Plus, his lusus actually got on his case for not eating, so he had a few more weight blocks than Sollux. He supressed a gag at the memory of Crabdad trying to force feed him gelatinous roe cubes. So. Disgusting.

Sollux smirked. "Oh, who's cold now, douchebag?"

"Not me, fucknuggets. I was thinking of your putrid condiment colored blood."

Karkat knew he had hit a nerve when Sollux's face dropped it's scuzzy little combination sneer-smile. God, handling this was harder in person. Actually, the look on the other troll's face brought back way too vivid snapshot memories of his too-still body speckled with smears of shining, dusky yellow. It made his heart drop.

But fuck it, he was sitting right fucking next to him, it's not like he's dead for real. Well, of course he was dead for real, you dumbass. He would have stayed dead for real if Feferi didn't have her shit together, and wasn't as altruistic and fucking crazy as she was. After he had reappeared on the viewport,Karkat had battled between feeling complete self loathing and despair against an immediate sense of relief, his mind ready to shuck of the unpleasant memory of a dead friend instantly. Now, remembering Sollux was pretty fucking lucky, it drew out something a little unexpected.

Pity.

He skidded across the floor, closing the foot between them, so that his shoulder would bump against Sollux's, his thigh and knee meeting the other boy's. Sollux jolted, looking kind of affronted at the intimacy. "What the fuck, dude?"

"Shut up, don't go all cluckbeast on me. You said you were cold. So I'm magnanimously sharing my body heat, you ungrateful fuck. It's not like there's anyone else around here that would touch your disgusting skinny ass."

"Fuck you, I don't need your charity heat." But he didn't move. He seemed to brood a little, though. With his chin on his knees, his words came out muffled.

"Fff. You need way more of my charity than my heat, if you ask me, but I'm willing to fucking put up with your inferiority in interest of your lack of hypothermia." Karkat shifted, leaning his head back against the wall. This was way more comfortable than it should have been.

Sollux scoffed. "You're lucky I'm not blowing my rape whistle."

"What the fuck is a rape whistle."

"I dunno, something I found on the internet. Those hairless fucking monkeys seem to like them a lot. Plus, they have imaginary internet police who come up and fuck people's shit up for stupid imaginary things."

Karkat considered this. "So, basically like troll society, just less real and with more breath-powered noise devices."

"Yeah, pretty much."

A beat of silence passed, the boys sharing the heat generated from their shoulders and knees touching. Karkat broke the silence, raspy voice appropriately quiet in the dead air.

"Hey. I'm glad you're okay."

"... yeah, me too."

[mutecebu]

Spork.

Homekrigg Geniusstuck: Intermission I

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>gligmages; be gligmage's dad

Entity gligmages not found.

>gilgamesh; be gligmage's dad

Syntax error.

>goddam it stopid fyucher butin

Syntax error.

>Gilgamesh: Be Gilgamesh's dad.

User not registered. Initiating hardware check.
...
User is attempting to input commands from external hardware!
Disconnecting user.

You are now ZETA. You prefer to go by ZIMMY because that is your real name, not that other stupid name they gave you. You recently tried to directly command a user by remotely commandeering an Exilic Terminal, and subsequently failed. That's one plan out the window. Or out the stupid dumb portholes they've got lying around in this dumb capsule place. Whoever thought that this dumb space rock was the best way for new gods to enter the world was a dumb stupid moron.

You survey your surroundings. Your party has entered into this new universe at the exact point of its genesis, aboard a meteor-turned starship destined to eventually seed a new planet for the game. You have recently logged off of your computer, which is really cool and state-of-the-art. Hypothetically, if you had been forced to flee to some other meteor during the course of the game, you would likely be stuck with nearly-broken pieces of shit that couldn't be made to do anything without an experienced hacker.
But that did not happen, and you are instead blessed with a wealth of machinery to aid the gods of a new world.

Among these gadgets are the STASIS CAPSULES which you would ostensibly use to awaken yourselves once sentient life had been spawned in your universe. There are also twelve INFINITY TERMINALS, which allow you to watch and guide your successors from far in the past. Additionally, spare ALCHEMITERS, CRUXTRUDERS, and TOTEM LATHES litter the back rooms of your meteoric vessel.
Most importantly, however, you were able to protect the SPRITE PENDANTS of you and your accomplices. It was agreed upon by all present that you would not risk "releasing" the occupants of the sprites until the consequences were made more explicit.

It is perhaps most important that you did not risk "releasing" the crazy one they called Coyote. According to Annie, that guy was basically the cause of everything bad that had ever happened to their session.
Later we will see why this was the case. But not now.

You connect to the transmission protocol and generate a transmission to Kat.

-- superawesomeBloodcurdler [SB] generated transmission to ethericMechanic [EM] --

SB: hay kat i tryd the comand turminl but it fukn didint werk
SB: (hahaha fuk( but i nede 2 macke the king giy be the spirt 'cos ov tym
SB: and i kant
EM: oh my god zimmy, do you know how hard it is to read what you type?
EM: what are you even saying?
SB: i NEED 2 MACE the KINGE GUY be the SPRITE 'cos OF TIME
EM: uuuugh, i don't want to get involved with all of your future shenanigans!
EM: ask annie!
SB: blaaaaa, fien luser

-- superawesomeBloodcurdler [SB] ceased transmission to ethericMechanic [EM] --

-- superawesomeBloodcurdler [SB] generated transmission to despondentPheonix [DP] --

SB: -- superawesomeBloodcurdler [SB] generated transmission to ethericMechanic [EM] --SB: hay kat i tryd the comand turminl but it fukn didint werkSB: (hahaha fuk( but i nede 2 macke the king giy be the spirt 'cos ov tymSB: and i kantEM: oh my god zimmy, do you know how hard it is to read what you type?EM: what are you even saying?SB: i NEED 2 MACE the KINGE GUY be the SPRITE 'cos OF TIMEEM: uuuugh, i don't want to get involved with all of your future shenanigans!EM: ask annie!SB: blaaaaa, fien luser-- superawesomeBloodcurdler [SB] ceased transmission to ethericMechanic [EM] --
SB: soa thats y u haf 2 halp me (ZIMMY( mace the kinge guy be the sprite
DP: -_-; I'm not certain I understand your reasoning, Zeta.
DP: ?_? You're trying to make Wulfenbach's father prototype himself with the kernelsprite?
SB: furst my nam iz ZIMMY ZIMMY ZIMMY and aslo its gust a sprit noa not a kurnalsprit
DP: <_< But outside of terminology, I'm correct?
SB: yeh i ges
DP: -_-; I should remind you again that time will not contradict itself.
DP: ;_; No failure to act on our part will necessarily result in an outcome in which the event is not fulfilled, by simple virtue of loop stability.
DP: ^_^ But on the other hand, it's always useful to embed unknown contingencies in the past.
SB: wow anni i donet evin no wut yor toking aboat
DP: <_<; Think of it this way.
DP: ^_~ If you convinced someone in the past to bury a bar of gold at a specific point, what would you find at that point in the present?
SB: i donet no a bar ov gold?
DP: ^o^ Right!
DP: -_- The possibilities of what can exist in the present are limited only by our knowledge of them.
DP: ._. If we had someone bury the gold in a place we knew it wouldn't be, it would either cause a paradox (which is typically impossible) or cause them to fail regardless of circumstances.
DP: $_$ Conversely, we could hypothetically have hundreds of bars of gold buried by hundreds of people in the past.
SB: o k i c hoa thare iz lots ov muney we culd haf but wut duz this haf 2 do wif anithinc
DP: >_< That's not really what I'm trying to convey.
DP: @_@ I'm trying to show you how our temporal displacement invalidates any possibility of failure to do what we will inevitably have done.
SB: i donet evin get wut u r saiing
DP: >_< >_< >_<
DP: ?_? I'm saying don't worry about it, time will do whatever it has to do.
DP: -_-; I'll deal with the elder Wulfenbach after I finish with Von Zinzer.
SB: oh o k thats gud
SB: by dum qeslitt more on

-- superawesomeBloodcurdler [SB] ceased transmission to despondentPheonix [DP] --

Also? Violetescence. Win forever. Sceadugenga? CREEPY AS HELL. And also win forever.

So, this crossover totally made me read Gunerkrigg Court. Amazing stuff, there.

[lucidSeraph]

@Sionnan: *is now late for an appointment because of you >8| * This is very cute, I love their GRR SNARK. Did you decide not to type out Sollux' lisp for clarity or...?

[Path]

I only ever write Exalted fiction, so this is new for me. Hope somebody's up for Slickfic. emesis' fantastic Slick/Sleuth art inspired me. Let me know if the violence or Slick's swearing is too much; I tried to keep it at the usual level for him.


Hate You Too
(Warnings for strong language and mild violence, no worse than the comic itself)

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I hate this guy.

I hate this guy with the black-churning vacuum of a thousand snuffed-out stars.

But then, that's the same courtesy I extend to the rest of the world. This guy's just no exception.

He doesn't seem to get that, is all.

"Slick," he says to me, pushing up his hat. If it were black, I guess it'd be an okay hat. He's got the idea, anyhow. "Slick," he says, sort of mild and confused, "I thought we were pals."

I glare up at him and try to express just what I think about that statement in a clever line I can relate to the guys later. I end up just baring my teeth and snarling at him, and telling him that the last way I'd describe us two would be as stupid friendship buddies. I'll come up with a better one when I tell it to Droog.

He clutches his stomach and I generously remove the blade I've got shoved in there to make it easier for him. I wipe it off on his trenchcoat and stick it back in my jacket. Then I turn my back, tug my jacket straight, and walk out. His keys fall from his hand, and then he falls too, whispering his last words. I can't think of good ones.

In reality, of course, I only get to the door. Then something hits me square in the back. For a second, I think maybe he's wised up at last, finally stuck it to me when my back was turned. But no, whatever it is just bounces off. When I turn around, he's holding his side in pain with one arm, the other still extended from the throw. On the floor, a piece of crumpled paper rolls to a stop.

I bend to pick it up. How many times have I stuck this guy? How is he still here, still looking at me with tired puppy-dog eyes, no matter what I do to him? He cracks half a smile when I bend to pick up the paper. I glare at him. I'm told the effect is heightened with only the one eye. Then I open the paper ball up.

There's a picture inside, and a pretty crappy picture at that. What did he scrawl this with, a ballpoint pen? There's a sort of green scribble, and then a black scribble inside it with a big "8" plastered on it. His writing is terrible and I really never thought I'd see worse than Boxcars'. When I can decipher it, it points out the silly hat the figure is wearing, her skanky dress, and her name. I already know her name. Kindergarten crayon doodle or no, I'd recognize her anywhere.

I grab him by the tie and shove the picture in his face. "This some sort of joke, funny guy?" I ask him.

He coughs in pain and tightens his arm against his side. The red smear I'd left on his coat is starting to join up with the blood leaking from the knife wound. "Slick," he says, "do I look like the kind of guy who'd crack wise at a time like this?"

Really, there's no doubt about that. This guy is a total fucking joke. I tighten my hold on his ugly tie; tweed? Pretty much the ugliest thing you could possibly imagine. "Listen, bud," I demand, "You're gonna tell me where you saw Snowman and you're gonna tell me now."

"Gee," he says. "I dunno, Slick. Everything's kind of blurring together. Maybe I could remember better if I weren't dying like this."

"Godfuckingdammit," I tell him, "I will rip your eyes out if you don't tell me where you saw Sn-"

He holds his hands up in surrender, smiling weakly. One of his cuffs is wet and dark. Fills my heart with joy to see him like this. It does. "Easy, Slick," he says. "I'll tell you everything. Just got to... get things clear..."

I grit my teeth together and they grind like sandpaper. Fine. It's just going to be this way. Again.

I get his tie off and his shirt open, revealing a dozen other old scars- happy memories, all. I get the tie bunched up and pressed to the wound and my arm under his shoulders. Then I'm helping him out the door and down the hall. Why's it turn out this way, everytime? I hate this guy.

I hate this guy.

"I fucking hate you, Sleuth," I mutter.

"Hate you too, Slick," he says faintly. But his heart's not really in it.

And I'm worried mine isn't either.

[DJ-P0N3]

@Sionnan
I always imagined Sollux as skinny, but this story made me think anorexic!Sollux.
And oh gosh.
This was adorable in an odd way.
Nice work.

[Wigmund]

Here is part 1.
Oh god I hope this isn't too bad.

All the names should be given thanks to Katrika and ToreadorTornado, who helped make these names actually quite awesome.
Without further ado and ass kissery
I present

GENDERBENT

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Melani Nomura stands inside her hive awaiting something, though she is unsure of what. A light flickers on above her head and for a moment this absurdity is welcomed. It soon reads a rather derogatory and unflattering sort of phrase that she is far from willing to put up with, she takes her sickle and slices it in two. Sticking with her current name rather than such racist slander.

She returns to her things and figures now is a fine time to describe herself. She speaks aloud for no one to hear, “Well where do I begin?” She proceeds to speak of the pigtails in her gray hair and the dark gray lipstick she enjoys wearing. Her outfit is also rather monochromatic. A rather frilly dress in gray, dark gray, and white. She informs no one that it is a theme she does so enjoy through its majestic simplicity, but she supposes you wouldn’t understand, even if you were really there. Her collar has a symbol on it representing the astrological sign Cancer; however that is neither relevant nor true in the troll world, so needless facts be ignored.


She glances at her room briefly; the walls are covered in posters about her favorite romance movies. Each one of them is a testament to financial extortion and sappy love stories. She would never admit to loving each one of these movies to death, but then again she doesn’t care. She would eat a weird bug and not even notice. Then she glances at her Recuperacoon for a moment and ponders if what her best friend Harley says is true about the spoor slime, she dabs a finger in and goes for a lick as her Trollian messanger, which happens to only be a beta, well speak of the devil.

It’s her now.

Show trollog

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-- teasinglyCharismatic [TC] began trolling culturalGenerator [CG] --
TC: how ARE you MY sister?
CG: mother of GOD what on alternia do YOU want?
TC: nothing ACTUALLY my SISTER.
TC: besides CHECKING up ON my BEST motherfucking GIRLFRIEND of COURSE.
CG: you know I hate the inconsistent BULLSHIT of your damn QUIRK right?
CG: because I do.
CG: ):<B
TC: yeah YOU mention THAT a HELL of A lot SISTER.
TC: i guess i just don’t…
TC: get it?
TC: when i try to type like this it just makes me un-fucking-comfortable.
TC: you JUST have TO go WITH what FEELS right TO you AND shit.
TC: you KNOW?
TC: girlfriend.
CG: remind me to ask myself what the HELL I DID to get stuck with such a lousy GIRLFRIEND like you.
CG: or is it something i am going to do to DESERVE THIS SHIT?
CG: it is possible i am just the UNLUCKIEST FUCK to ever LIVE.
TC: isn’t FRIENDSHIP fucking AMAZING?
TC: even IF it IS a DISEASE.
CG: oh PLEASE.
CG: friendship is the biggest mistake i have ever MADE.
CG: EVER.
CG: |:B
TC: is A miracle.
CG: mother of GOD don’t you dare start with THAT BULLSHIT again!
CG: <B
TC: sister EVERYWHERE i LOOK i SEE...
TC: miracles HAPPENING all OVER the PLACE.
TC: it IS fucking INSPIRING.
TC: so DEEP and MEANINGFUL and SHIT.
TC: just OPENED myself A bottle OF this GREAT fucking NOOKSNIFFING good FAYGO and IT is BUBBLING and SHIT.
TC: how DOES it DO that?
TC: i BET its MIRACLES.
CG: oh dear LORD you are an IDIOTIC BITCH.
CG: that is just carbonation. see if you were actually SCHOOLFED on this SHIT you would legitimately know SOMETHING other than the CRAP you believe.
CG: like your stupid god damn miracles.
CG: ):<B
TC: whoa NOW sister YOU can JUST stop THERE.
TC: i DON’T want TO know ABOUT that SHIT.
TC: don’t STEAL the MOTHERFUCKING magic THAT is MY miracles.
TC: alright GIRLFRIEND?
CG: the only MIRACULOUS thing I have ever seen or heard of is your LOVE of that SOPOR SLUDGE you are supposed to SLEEP IN.
CG: not to MENTION how SLUTTY you dress.
CG: now that I think about it there are a LOT of miracles.
CG: mainly regarding your dumbass, but still.
CG: MIRACLES.
TC: told YOU my GIRLFRIEND.
TC: miracles ARE everywhere.
TC: like HOW we ARE talking RIGHT now?
TC: fucking MIRACLES.
TC: that’s WHAT.
CG: god damn you.
CG: god DAMN YOU for making me read that SHIT.
TC: nevermind THAT sister TELL me WHAT is UP for YOU.
TC: so SUP girlfriend?
CG: what?
CG: ?:B
TC: i HEARD some SHIT was GOING down.
TC: wanted TO know WHAT the FUCK it WAS girlfriend.
CG: could you stop CALLING ME girlfriend?
CG: its really PISSING ME OFF.
CG: ):<B
CG: wait do you mean TA’s thing?
TC: yeah I do.
TC: she IS doing SOME pretty NEAT fucking SHIT right NOW.
TC: coding LIKE a
TC: like A
CG: don’t you DARE SAY IT.
TC: miracle!
CG: god FUCKING DAMN YOU TO THE SHITTIEST PART OF HELL.
TC: something WRONG girlfriend?
CG: I am going to BLOCK YOU.
CG: I will unblock you when you aren’t being such a DUMB BITCH.
TC: goodbye THEN girlfriend.
TC: honk )
-- culturalGenerator [CG] blocked teasinglyCharismatic [TC] --
CG: honk. C:B

Harley Augost stands in her hive looking at the chatlog she just had with Melani. She never understood that girl, but she supposed it was part of what made them such great friends. Because they didn’t understand each other, they just were happy to talk one another. She doesn’t understand much, but Harley does understand the fun of practical jokes and clowns. She has a large pile of horns she sleeps on fairly often, despite her Recuperacoon being the actual artifact for her rest. She takes a hearty swig of her Faygo and admires her hive.

There is a multitude of varying seashells of different texture, design, and color hot glued onto her walls. She collects them from the beach whenever she visits the beach, which is actually the next thing on her agenda of miracle induced stupidity.

She captchalogues her Husktop and a Faygo for the road. She stands in awe at the amazing wide array of colors that flash before her. Her Sylladex swaps between various colors and moves constantly creating such a tantalizing view she can never resist it. She dabs her fingers in some spoor pie and takes a small lick.

Delicious.

Of course now she is feeling slightly dizzy. Faygo and Sopor pie does that to Harley’s mind, though she loves the way it makes her feel. She crawls upon her unicycle and tries to balance on it. She sways back and forth for a few minutes before losing her balance and falling forward into her horn pile.

She hits the metallic end of one of her horns; it makes a loud cracking noise. She sits up and notices a small puddle of purple fluid on the horns. She places a hand to her nose and wipes. “Oh my what the fuck is this shit?” She asks to herself.

It seems she had possibly broken her nose by these shenanigans. She doesn’t seem to care, in fact, she just gets off the pile and licks the blood out from under her nose. Before she decides to leave her home she equips herself with a juggling club. She is often spacey and idiotic, but she knows it is a bad idea to leave the house unarmed.

“Off I go like a motherfucking queen!” She giggles a fairly short distance out of her home to the beach to collect more shells.

Harley arrives shortly and begins to traverse the shoreline, skimming the sand for shells. She picks up a few cones and clams before she hears a ringing noise. Taking a gander at her miracle modus she spots that someone is trying to message her via Trollian. She kneels down and begins to pray to her Mithful Messiahs. She splashes a dash of special stardust in her face, prompting her to sneeze. Spraying her purple blood and snout shooting out, she giggles and soon feels a hard hit to the back of her head.

She collapses on the ground unconscious. It seems her miracle modus expelled the Faygo from before right into her noggin, in bounced off and landed into the water where it slowly began to sink. She wasn’t going to be answering that friend of hers any time soon, nor will she wake up as soon as one would hope. Let’s leave her alone and go to someone else, shall we?

Melani is currently busy trying her hand at coding. She has worked on a project for some time with the help of her ~ATH manual and her friend Zethia Amfion. She is a lot better at coding than Melani is, but she’s okay with that mainly because she isn’t a huge geek like Zethia and actually has fashion sense beyond jeans and a T-shirt. Then again Zethia’s simplistic outfit and personality may be why Melani enjoys having her as a friend so much.

She has sent Melani files, but to this day Melani can not make heads or tails of them. She would never admit that to Zethia, she likes to let her think the two of them are as smart as each other. Even if it is not the case. A quick peek at one and already her head begins to hurt, all this stupid coding and bifurcation of this is so stupid. Melani closes the file and notices someone messaging her.

She is beginning to suspect whomever she is thinking about will speak to her on this crummy messenger. She hopes that really isn’t the case.

Show trollog

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-- twotimedAngel [TA] began trolling culturalGenerator [CG] --
TA: melmel ii don’t want you two flip your 2hit but ii have 2et you up play a game wiith a few other troll2.
CG: why would I flip my SHIT about THAT?
CG: ?:B
TA: becau2e you tend two flip your 2hiit at everythiing.
CG: well quite clearly my SHIT is right here.
CG: and it is not BEING FLIPPED.
CG: so obvious I am not FLIPPING MY SHIT right now.
CG: so this must be DAMN MIRACLE.
TA: oh my go2h plea2e tell me you are not gettiing iinto that miiracle2 crud that TC ii2.
CG: HELL NO.
TA: phew.
CG: miracles are like a STAIN on the LUSCIOUS FARIC ON THE DRESS OF SPACE AND TIME.
TA: makiing fun of the uniiver2e? ii diidn’t know you had iit iin you.
CG: well I don’t see WHY NOT.
CG: the universe is full of SHIT just like GOD.
TA: hahahaha #
CG: oh lord are you trying to make an EMOTE again?
CG: |:<B
TA: #:S
TA: doe2 thii2 not work eiither?
CG: face it, your twin horns make it IMPOSSIBLE to have a proper emoticon.
CG: it’s just how it works.
TA: well alriight.
TA: now can we get back two what ii wa2 2ayiing?
CG: sure WHATEVER.
TA: well alriight.
TA: the game ii 2et you up for ii2 a lot like a 2iimulatiion .
TA: to put iit 2iimply iit ii2 2ort of nece22ary for us two play for the 2ake of our race.
CG: so you are making up CRAP so I actually play with you IDIOTS?
TA: iit2 not a liie melmel. AA dug iit up and ii 2tarted working on iit.
TA: adapted iit, iif you wiill 2ay.
TA: and iit ii2 nece22ary that we play iit iin order to 2ave our race.
CG: wait, AA?
CG: HE is part of THIS?
CG: okay now I know the two of you are just FUCKING WITH ME.
TA: would you ju2t beliieve me on thii2?
TA: ii promii2e iif ii am lying you can hiit me all you want later.
CG: …
CG: as much as I WANT?
TA: a2 hard a2 you want.
CG: well alright then.
CG: I look forward to punching you in your STUPID FACE.
CG: ciao.
TA: ii am not done dii2cu2iing iit wiith you.
CG: oh.
CG: DXB
TA: there are two team2.
TA: red and blue.
CG: oh hahahahaha.
CG: I get it!
CG: Like your glasses!
TA: ye2 liike my gla22e2. hahahahaha.
TA: care to gue22 who the team leader2 are?
CG: well I am guessing one is ME, right?
TA: actually no.
TA: GC ii2 goiing to be team leader for red and ii wiill be leader for red.
CG: haha okay REALLY?
CG: making the blind boy be your rival?
CG: do you have a THING for him?
TA: that ii2 nowhere near true melmel.
CG: whatever you SAY. I am off to spread the RUMOR right NOW.
TA: oh plea2e don’t!
CG: my finger is SLIPPING!
CG: I am about to MESSAGE EVERYONE.
TA: oh nooooooo!
TA: DX#
CG: just MESSING with YOU. oh my gosh, you do.
TA: ii do not!
CG: yeah WHATEVER. see you later TA.
TA: bye melmel.
-- twotimedAngel [TA] ceased trolling culturalGenerator [CG] --

Author's notes

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Q: how long will this follow the same road HIVEBENT did?
A: Until all the trolls are introduced I will stick to as close of canon as a genderbent AU can.

Q: do you think you made their personalities slightly stereotypical of goofy teenage girls?
A: Possibly.
I think it is going to be most notable with Melani and Zethia. Harley seems to be a lot like Gamzee, so who knows.

Q: so what plot twists do you have in mind.
A: Doc Scratch is now a woman.
This changes everything.
Go cry in your bed because you suddenly understand jackshit.
only the trolls genders have been changed.

If Genderbent doesn't end with the following chat between Melani Nomura and Jane Egbert:

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[color="#626262"]EB: i am not a lesbian.
CG: what the HELL is that?
EB: it is like, when a girl likes another girl.
EB: or i guess hates, in this case.

I'm gonna be disappointed MSB.

[Kassiopeia]

@Path ahahaahhaha YES. Good fic best pairing. Lovelyyyy.
@Sionnan omg they are such bros. I like KarkatxSollux but I think I almost like them better as vitriolic bffs. So angrycute.

[Sionnan]

@ everyone- :B yaaay I'm glad you like my fic. I always figured they'd have a pretty effortless banter potential between them. And there was and I was happy.

@Seraph- I didn't do the lisp because I was worried it would slow down the banter because people would have to mentally translate it. Not that I think my audience is stupid, I'm just selfish about my dialog.

@Path- YES. HOLY SHIT YES. I always wondered how the two of these guys would handle each other, and this is awesome. If you feel inclined to do more with them, please post it! I'd love to see it.

[DJ-P0N3]

@Wigmund
Welp
Sad to say Wigmund in this AU I have no real intent of having them troll the kids, but I guess only time will tell.
Sorry to disappoint.
-

[Wigmund]

Oh noooooo

[Katrika]

MAYOR EXPLAIN THE NAMES REVEALED SO FAR.

[Twigwise]

@Wigmund
Welp
Sad to say Wigmund in this AU I have no real intent of having them troll the kids, but I guess only time will tell.
SorryHappy to disappoint.
-

...Fixed?

Sionnan, Path, you're both awesome. Awesome fics.

(Thanks Lucid 'u' )

[DJ-P0N3]

MAYOR EXPLAIN THE NAMES REVEALED SO FAR.

Zethia Amfion (Sollux Captor)

Melani Nomura (Karkat Vantas)

Harley Augost (Gamzee Makara)

[draconicAlgorithm]

NEW THREAD WUT

No internet means I miss things. I'll probably go around reading this thread once I post this.

ANYWAY. I got this idea from reading Daddy Droog fics + finding fanart of of Daddy Droog and Papa Slick. (I have no idea if anyone actually calls him Papa Slick but I'm rolling with it.) They made me think "Hey, what about Boxcars and Deuce?" So here's Boxcars. I'll probably do Deuce later, too. :I

Kitten

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Hearts Boxcars had always known that he liked cute things. Maybe it was odd for a carapace of his stature and occupation, but he had never been one to follow the norm. That was why he had joined Slick's crew, after all. Regardless, this affinity for the adorable explained why he took it upon himself to look after Deuce when Slick and Droog would just as likely stand by and watch him blow himself up. It also explained the "doting uncle" attitude he'd taken towards the two young trolls that Slick and Droog had recently adopted. Even Aradia, who seemed impassive at best, smiled a bit when Boxcars offered her a lolipop. No one questioned the fact that he seemed to carry them in his pockets for just such an occasion.

But sometimes, when he was walking in the shadow soaked streets with no one nearby, he thought wistfully to himself that it would have been nice if he had found the orphans. Sure, Slick and Droog were good fathers. Anyone with eyes and a little knowledge of the two could see that they did well by their adopted son and daughter. The thing was, the more he saw them with the kids, the more he wished he had one of his own. It was an odd feeling. Carapaces were born as adults, in a tube. They didn't have children. By rights, they shouldn't have any parental instincts. And yet, here he was, standing under a streetlight while en route to the casino, wondering what it would have been like if he had adopted a child, too. Maybe there was something wrong with him.

A crash from the alley that he had only just realized he was standing beside jolted him out of his reverie. A hand went to his side, ready to draw a gun, when he realized that whatever it was that made the noise was too small to be a thug. A silhouette of pointed triangles protruding from a round head seemed to suggest a cat. He chuckled to himself. Hearts Boxcars, scared by a measly cat because he wasn't paying attention. That was a laugh.

Then, the creature moved, and its eyes flashed from the light of the streetlamp. Those eyes were too big to belong to a cat. That piqued his interest. He took careful steps towards the alley, going slowly so as not to scare the thing. He crouched down, trying to make himself look smaller and therefore less threatening, and stuck out a hand.

"C'mere, little monster," he said, with no threat in his voice. "Uncle Boxcars won't—UNF!" The big-eyed shadow surged forward all at once, a mouth full of sharp teeth clamping down on the proffered hand. Boxcars bit down a yell and used his other hand to grab the thing by its scruffy, oversized collar and jerked his hand free. The teeth were sharp. Carapace skin was pretty thick, but they still cut through. Ignoring the pain in his hand, Boxcars found that he had caught a young troll.

She (for Boxcars ascertained immediately that she looked decidedly feminine) stared at him with huge yellow eyes. Her horns, which poked out of a mane of wild black hair, were indeed much like cat ears, and with her hair hiding her own, it was easy to see how he had made the mistake. She was thin, too, made even more so by the overly large and dingy t-shirt she wore. It looked like she hadn't gotten a good meal in a while. A green tongue lapped up the red blood on her lips and tiny fangs greedily. She looked to be a bit younger than Aradia and Karkat, though it could have just been from malnutrition.

She didn't struggle, which seemed odd to Boxcars. At first, he thought maybe she was too weak and that the leap at him had been the last of her strength. Then he'd noticed the calculating look in her eyes. She knew he had the upper hand. She was waiting for him to make a mistake so that she could bite him again. Clever little girl. Boxcars liked her immediately.

Ignoring the pain, Boxcars reached into a pocket with his free hand and pulled out a (slightly bloody) lolipop. He pulled off the wrapper with his teeth and offered it to the cat-like troll toddler. She stared at it suspiciously, glancing back and forth between his face and the candy.

"Take it," he said. She only hesitated a moment longer before grabbing it from his hands and sucking on it eagerly. She had decided to trust him. "Good girl. Let's get you some food."

It looked like Boxcars would be taking this stray kitten home with him.

---

That evening, Slick found Boxcars at the bar, alternating sipping a beer and feeding a troll brat bits of predictably rare steak. He was not pleased.

"A casino is no place for brats." Boxcars just gave him a grin, not even looking away from his charge.

"Couldn't exactly leave her to die in an alley, could I?" She eagerly took another bite of bloody steak. Slick made a disgusted face.

"She's got your taste in food, anyway."

"She tried to eat my hand first, the sly little cat." Boxcars held up his injured hand, now wrapped in gauze that was already turning red. Slick shook his hand.

"Idiot. Brats aren't just fun and games."

"I never said they were." Slick continued to scowl, but he nodded. That was all the affirmation Boxcars was going to get. The little troll was fine by him. He walked away.

Droog came by a bit later.

"New kid?" He asked. Boxcars nodded. The toddler paused from eating long enough to stare at Droog. Droog stared back for a long moment before saying, "Bring her by to see Aradia sometime. The girl needs some more female friends." And with that, Droog stalked away as well.

The last one to show up was Deuce.

"Boxcars, Boxcars! Slick said you adopted a troll, too!" The smallest member of the Midnight Crew clambered up onto one of the barstools to get a closer look at her. By this time, the youngster had finished the entire steak and was looking rather sleepy as a result. She blinked drowsily at the new face. "Aw, she's adorable! What's her name?"

"Dunno yet," Boxcars replied. "She's been too busy stuffin' her face to tell me." He turned to her. "So, how 'bout it, Kitten? You got a name?" She paused, appearing a little confused about the question, before she finally smiled, revealing her entire array of pointed teeth.

"Nepeta!" She said in a high pitched, sing-song voice.

"Aw, that's adorable!" Deuce gushed.

And that was how Hearts Boxcars came to adopt Nepeta Leijon.

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Notes about Father Boxcars: HB is a pretty laid back dad. He's content to let Nepeta make her own decisions on a lot of things. It is for this reason that she is allowed to wear her baggy clothing, even though it makes her look a bit like a hobo. HB doesn't seem to mind, as long as she's happy. He also taught her quite a bit about fighting hand-to-hand, which she prefers over using guns. They had to work together to adapt a style of her own, since she is much smaller and more agile than HB, but she's deadly in her own right. HB doesn't have any qualms about leaving her home alone. Like the other MC kids, she can take care of herself. Also, she has taken up HB's love of attempting to pair others together. She has a shipping wall in her room that she uses to stay up-to-date on all the possible pairings. HB almost always refers to her by the pet name "Kitten". If he calls her by Nepeta, it means she's in trouble.

EDIT: Okay, responses to stuff on this page.

@MSB: Oh god, I love this so far. It was only made better by your avatar. I only just stopped myself from laughing hysterically.

@TT: That was so good! I think you really hit Rose's personality. I always felt like the passive/aggressive duels she had with her mother were one-sided, and that she was just, in a way, overreacting. But you hit the nail on the head. Great job.

@Path: Oh jegus Slick and Sleuth. I love those two interacting, even though that's the first actual fanfic I've read of the two of them.

@Sionnan: Those two just don't interact enough in canon. I think you got them down perfectly.

@zebtrestalala: That was not very bad. Shut up. D< I really liked how you portrayed them all. To be honest, I'd like to see more of this. Although, I can't for the life of me guess who Candice is. :x Nepeta maybe?

[zebtrestalala]

Team Players.

This is very bad. I'm sorry. I couldn't think of how to improve it.

Involves a human!Trolls sort of thing.

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He was so bad at video games.

Solomon HATED having him over. He was pretty sure that no one else liked to play video games with him either. His rage was something completely different than that of Karl, who always ended up just storming away from the game with a face crinkled up like paper with rage.

“Fucking piece of shit game, I can’t get it right, fuck Halo! Goddamn Energy Swords, that has to be fucking cheating!”

“Oh come on, Karl, don’t be like that!” he would call. “It’s jutht a game!”

“I’m going to go punch something. I’ll be right back,” Karl replied between gritted teeth.

`And it certainly wasn’t the roid rages that Quinn had sometimes. You’d think with a girl’s name he’d be a little more laid back, or a little more weak, but he was intense and pretentious and weird. He would take everything to a point, then break out in a cold sweat when his team started to lose. Eventually, he would work himself up so much that he just HAD to break something. Solomon always kept piles of wood or Styrofoam around so that Quinn could get off on his rampant destruction. He would always come back and apologize, reeking of sweat and rage.

“I’m terribly sorry for such an inappropriate outburst of rage. Please, allow me to refund you for the loss of your conveniently placed Styrofoam,” he would mutter, before regaining is weird, elitist behavior. “Though, as you know, it would be no matter, with my family being so affluent.”

“Yeah, whatever weirdo, just don’t thweat all over the controller next time.”

However, Eric was just unbearable to play with. He would get worse and worse as he played, getting more and more depressed, mopey, and paranoid as he played until eventually he just seemed to snap. He would shoot anything and everyone in a rage, and he even shot Candice a few times because he thought she was ‘playing bad on purpose.’ He wouldn’t take any sort of advice, and would just go out on his own because “clearly no one else had any idea what they were doing.”

Fucking Eric.

He was fairly sure that everyone only barely put up with him. Quinn vaguely respected him out of his affluence, but he was often offput by the fact that he was a selfish, whiny, mopey little boy. If it was anyone else but Fiona who tried to bring him to these sorts of things then he doubted that the meaner ones like Valerie would have let him stay there for a second. She made sure that she was always on the opposite team of him, and made sure to personally hunt him down every time they played. The worst part was, she was the best player out of all of them. She had all the skills. All of them.

All of Eric’s whining, bitching, and raging was almost a worthwhile price to pay for getting to spend time with Fiona. She brought Eric with her because their parents worked together, and sadly she was the only friend that Eric could maintain. While her family was rich and incredibly powerful, she was still peaceful and down to earth, caring for almost every creature she found. Ever since his old girlfriend had gone all gothy and had gone into treatment for depression, Solomon had found himself growing more and more fond of this girl. He was caught in the throes of puppy love, and not even Eric could drive him away.

No matter how bad she played at videogames, no matter how many times that Eric would kill him, threaten him, have a “duel” with him to settle an imaginary score of those, he kept going back for Fiona. While Karl begrudgingly kept him busy, Solomon would sneak away to the depths of his house with Fiona, talking about everything with her, plans for the future, plans for the present, stupid trivial things that had that much more importance to a thirteen year old boy because they were with her. A girl that he loved.

She eclipsed him in every way. While he wanted to be a computer programmer, a game designer, a basic couch potato; she wanted to join the Peace Corps, go out and help the world, live with those that had so much less than she did. It was inspiring. He loved her all the more for it.

This made it even harder when she moved away.

“We’re moving to some sort of inner city community, Solomon,” she said. “It kind of sucks, but apparently it’s for the good of the company. Oh, and Eric’s family’s moving with us.”

Everything seemed to drop away from his teenage life. Moving? Her? That couldn’t happen. Especially not if that creep was going to be there with her. No way.

“But Fi you can’t jutht go and leave like that! Who the heck am I going to hang out with?”

“Oh, don’t be silly, Sol. You’ve got Karl and Candice, and all our other friends! You won’t be lonely!”

She didn’t understand! He could be surrounded by friends and still be lonely. He hadn’t had a bad mood swing for over a year, since they’d been hanging out. It was terrible. How could she do this to him?

The next year was unbearable. He slunk more and more into his mood swings and depression, and got lost in his coding and games. The phone calls and e-mails only made it harder than ever. And having Eric constantly challenging him to Xbox live matches only made him think of how she was stuck there. With him. That douche.

Oh sure, Karl came over, and it was a good distraction to hear him cursing and yelling and getting Mama all worked up over his language, but it only seemed like a distraction now. Candice tried her hand at remedies for his depression, but it never worked for long. And James’ suggestion of sweets, soda, and pot were certainly not a help.

The worst was when Fiona would tell him tales of Eric. How he seemed to always get into trouble, instigating and fighting and not giving a damn about other people. The eternal victim. Hell, he had almost gotten her killed a few times. It made him sick. He didn’t want to think of what that desperate creep was up to, and why the hell he needed someone to help him live his life. He hoped he didn’t live life like he played videogames, killing people who were actually on his team when he got frustrated.

But that would be ridiculous. That wasn’t an action that human society would even remotely condone. But still, he couldn’t help but be a little nervous.

With all the help that he had been getting, he didn’t expect the most useful bit of advice to come from the person that it did.

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AA: s0l0m0n
TA: ariiana? You’re aliive!
AA: yes h0w cute assuming that the y0ur 0ld l0ve died and n0t that she had an awful experience the last 2 years
TA: yeah well you diidn’t try to contact me at all 2o iit’s your own fault
AA: whatever. it d0es n0t matter. S0l0m0n, i need your help.
TA: oh really now.
AA: yes s0l0m0n. we’re g0ing t0 play a game 0_0

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EDIT: Awww, Boxcars is the perfect match for Nepeta. What a chill dad. I think it fits very well, what with the shipping and the love of love and all that!

Also, Genderbent doesn't seem that different from the actual canon, but I'm waiting to see the different takes on the pesterlogs and all that. It does seem like an interesting concept, nonetheless.

And Sollux and Karkat having a bro moment? Awwww.

[Twigwise]

NEW THREAD WUT

No internet means I miss things. I'll probably go around reading this thread once I post this.

ANYWAY. I got this idea from reading Daddy Droog fics + finding fanart of of Daddy Droog and Papa Slick. (I have no idea if anyone actually calls him Papa Slick but I'm rolling with it.) They made me think "Hey, what about Boxcars and Deuce?" So here's Boxcars. I'll probably do Deuce later, too. :I

Kitten

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Hearts Boxcars had always known that he liked cute things. Maybe it was odd for a carapace of his stature and occupation, but he had never been one to follow the norm. That was why he had joined Slick's crew, after all. Regardless, this affinity for the adorable explained why he took it upon himself to look after Deuce when Slick and Droog would just as likely stand by and watch him blow himself up. It also explained the "doting uncle" attitude he'd taken towards the two young trolls that Slick and Droog had recently adopted. Even Aradia, who seemed impassive at best, smiled a bit when Boxcars offered her a lolipop. No one questioned the fact that he seemed to carry them in his pockets for just such an occasion.

But sometimes, when he was walking in the shadow soaked streets with no one nearby, he thought wistfully to himself that it would have been nice if he had found the orphans. Sure, Slick and Droog were good fathers. Anyone with eyes and a little knowledge of the two could see that they did well by their adopted son and daughter. The thing was, the more he saw them with the kids, the more he wished he had one of his own. It was an odd feeling. Carapaces were born as adults, in a tube. They didn't have children. By rights, they shouldn't have any parental instincts. And yet, here he was, standing under a streetlight while en route to the casino, wondering what it would have been like if he had adopted a child, too. Maybe there was something wrong with him.

A crash from the alley that he had only just realized he was standing beside jolted him out of his reverie. A hand went to his side, ready to draw a gun, when he realized that whatever it was that made the noise was too small to be a thug. A silhouette of pointed triangles protruding from a round head seemed to suggest a cat. He chuckled to himself. Hearts Boxcars, scared by a measly cat because he wasn't paying attention. That was a laugh.

Then, the creature moved, and its eyes flashed from the light of the streetlamp. Those eyes were too big to belong to a cat. That piqued his interest. He took careful steps towards the alley, going slowly so as not to scare the thing. He crouched down, trying to make himself look smaller and therefore less threatening, and stuck out a hand.

"C'mere, little monster," he said, with no threat in his voice. "Uncle Boxcars won't—UNF!" The big-eyed shadow surged forward all at once, a mouth full of sharp teeth clamping down on the proffered hand. Boxcars bit down a yell and used his other hand to grab the thing by its scruffy, oversized collar and jerked his hand free. The teeth were sharp. Carapace skin was pretty thick, but they still cut through. Ignoring the pain in his hand, Boxcars found that he had caught a young troll.

She (for Boxcars ascertained immediately that she looked decidedly feminine) stared at him with huge yellow eyes. Her horns, which poked out of a mane of wild black hair, were indeed much like cat ears, and with her hair hiding her own, it was easy to see how he had made the mistake. She was thin, too, made even more so by the overly large and dingy t-shirt she wore. It looked like she hadn't gotten a good meal in a while. A green tongue lapped up the red blood on her lips and tiny fangs greedily. She looked to be a bit younger than Aradia and Karkat, though it could have just been from malnutrition.

She didn't struggle, which seemed odd to Boxcars. At first, he thought maybe she was too weak and that the leap at him had been the last of her strength. Then he'd noticed the calculating look in her eyes. She knew he had the upper hand. She was waiting for him to make a mistake so that she could bite him again. Clever little girl. Boxcars liked her immediately.

Ignoring the pain, Boxcars reached into a pocket with his free hand and pulled out a (slightly bloody) lolipop. He pulled off the wrapper with his teeth and offered it to the cat-like troll toddler. She stared at it suspiciously, glancing back and forth between his face and the candy.

"Take it," he said. She only hesitated a moment longer before grabbing it from his hands and sucking on it eagerly. She had decided to trust him. "Good girl. Let's get you some food."

It looked like Boxcars would be taking this stray kitten home with him.

---

That evening, Slick found Boxcars at the bar, alternating sipping a beer and feeding a troll brat bits of predictably rare steak. He was not pleased.

"A casino is no place for brats." Boxcars just gave him a grin, not even looking away from his charge.

"Couldn't exactly leave her to die in an alley, could I?" She eagerly took another bite of bloody steak. Slick made a disgusted face.

"She's got your taste in food, anyway."

"She tried to eat my hand first, the sly little cat." Boxcars held up his injured hand, now wrapped in gauze that was already turning red. Slick shook his hand.

"Idiot. Brats aren't just fun and games."

"I never said they were." Slick continued to scowl, but he nodded. That was all the affirmation Boxcars was going to get. The little troll was fine by him. He walked away.

Droog came by a bit later.

"New kid?" He asked. Boxcars nodded. The toddler paused from eating long enough to stare at Droog. Droog stared back for a long moment before saying, "Bring her by to see Aradia sometime. The girl needs some more female friends." And with that, Droog stalked away as well.

The last one to show up was Deuce.

"Boxcars, Boxcars! Slick said you adopted a troll, too!" The smallest member of the Midnight Crew clambered up onto one of the barstools to get a closer look at her. By this time, the youngster had finished the entire steak and was looking rather sleepy as a result. She blinked drowsily at the new face. "Aw, she's adorable! What's her name?"

"Dunno yet," Boxcars replied. "She's been too busy stuffin' her face to tell me." He turned to her. "So, how 'bout it, Kitten? You got a name?" She paused, appearing a little confused about the question, before she finally smiled, revealing her entire array of pointed teeth.

"Nepeta!" She said in a high pitched, sing-song voice.

"Aw, that's adorable!" Deuce gushed.

And that was how Hearts Boxcars came to adopt Nepeta Leijon.

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Notes about Father Boxcars: HB is a pretty laid back dad. He's content to let Nepeta make her own decisions on a lot of things. It is for this reason that she is allowed to wear her baggy clothing, even though it makes her look a bit like a hobo. HB doesn't seem to mind, as long as she's happy. He also taught her quite a bit about fighting hand-to-hand, which she prefers over using guns. They had to work together to adapt a style of her own, since she is much smaller and more agile than HB, but she's deadly in her own right. HB doesn't have any qualms about leaving her home alone. Like the other MC kids, she can take care of herself. Also, she has taken up HB's love of attempting to pair others together. She has a shipping wall in her room that she uses to stay up-to-date on all the possible pairings. HB almost always refers to her by the pet name "Kitten". If he calls her by Nepeta, it means she's in trouble.

You. Amazing. Forever. I must art this.

(The shipping walls these two will make!)

EDIT: Oh man, thanks

[Ganato]

@Kitten: Perfect match! I wonder if Deuce will ever adopt someone.

@Human trolls:

I really liked this. The personalities are well-made and it was interesting having a look at what Sollux thinks of the others.
I certainly wouldn't mind seeing more.

Also I think Candice is Kanaya

[morpheoMancer]

Team Players.

This is very bad. I'm sorry. I couldn't think of how to improve it.

Involves a human!Trolls sort of thing.

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hide spoiler

He was so bad at video games.

Solomon HATED having him over. He was pretty sure that no one else liked to play video games with him either. His rage was something completely different than that of Karl, who always ended up just storming away from the game with a face crinkled up like paper with rage.

“Fucking piece of shit game, I can’t get it right, fuck Halo! Goddamn Energy Swords, that has to be fucking cheating!”

“Oh come on, Karl, don’t be like that!” he would call. “It’s jutht a game!”

“I’m going to go punch something. I’ll be right back,” Karl replied between gritted teeth.

`And it certainly wasn’t the roid rages that Quinn had sometimes. You’d think with a girl’s name he’d be a little more laid back, or a little more weak, but he was intense and pretentious and weird. He would take everything to a point, then break out in a cold sweat when his team started to lose. Eventually, he would work himself up so much that he just HAD to break something. Solomon always kept piles of wood or Styrofoam around so that Quinn could get off on his rampant destruction. He would always come back and apologize, reeking of sweat and rage.

“I’m terribly sorry for such an inappropriate outburst of rage. Please, allow me to refund you for the loss of your conveniently placed Styrofoam,” he would mutter, before regaining is weird, elitist behavior. “Though, as you know, it would be no matter, with my family being so affluent.”

“Yeah, whatever weirdo, just don’t thweat all over the controller next time.”

However, Eric was just unbearable to play with. He would get worse and worse as he played, getting more and more depressed, mopey, and paranoid as he played until eventually he just seemed to snap. He would shoot anything and everyone in a rage, and he even shot Candice a few times because he thought she was ‘playing bad on purpose.’ He wouldn’t take any sort of advice, and would just go out on his own because “clearly no one else had any idea what they were doing.”

Fucking Eric.

He was fairly sure that everyone only barely put up with him. Quinn vaguely respected him out of his affluence, but he was often offput by the fact that he was a selfish, whiny, mopey little boy. If it was anyone else but Fiona who tried to bring him to these sorts of things then he doubted that the meaner ones like Valerie would have let him stay there for a second. She made sure that she was always on the opposite team of him, and made sure to personally hunt him down every time they played. The worst part was, she was the best player out of all of them. She had all the skills. All of them.

All of Eric’s whining, bitching, and raging was almost a worthwhile price to pay for getting to spend time with Fiona. She brought Eric with her because their parents worked together, and sadly she was the only friend that Eric could maintain. While her family was rich and incredibly powerful, she was still peaceful and down to earth, caring for almost every creature she found. Ever since his old girlfriend had gone all gothy and had gone into treatment for depression, Solomon had found himself growing more and more fond of this girl. He was caught in the throes of puppy love, and not even Eric could drive him away.

No matter how bad she played at videogames, no matter how many times that Eric would kill him, threaten him, have a “duel” with him to settle an imaginary score of those, he kept going back for Fiona. While Karl begrudgingly kept him busy, Solomon would sneak away to the depths of his house with Fiona, talking about everything with her, plans for the future, plans for the present, stupid trivial things that had that much more importance to a thirteen year old boy because they were with her. A girl that he loved.

She eclipsed him in every way. While he wanted to be a computer programmer, a game designer, a basic couch potato; she wanted to join the Peace Corps, go out and help the world, live with those that had so much less than she did. It was inspiring. He loved her all the more for it.

This made it even harder when she moved away.

“We’re moving to some sort of inner city community, Solomon,” she said. “It kind of sucks, but apparently it’s for the good of the company. Oh, and Eric’s family’s moving with us.”

Everything seemed to drop away from his teenage life. Moving? Her? That couldn’t happen. Especially not if that creep was going to be there with her. No way.

“But Fi you can’t jutht go and leave like that! Who the heck am I going to hang out with?”

“Oh, don’t be silly, Sol. You’ve got Karl and Candice, and all our other friends! You won’t be lonely!”

She didn’t understand! He could be surrounded by friends and still be lonely. He hadn’t had a bad mood swing for over a year, since they’d been hanging out. It was terrible. How could she do this to him?

The next year was unbearable. He slunk more and more into his mood swings and depression, and got lost in his coding and games. The phone calls and e-mails only made it harder than ever. And having Eric constantly challenging him to Xbox live matches only made him think of how she was stuck there. With him. That douche.

Oh sure, Karl came over, and it was a good distraction to hear him cursing and yelling and getting Mama all worked up over his language, but it only seemed like a distraction now. Candice tried her hand at remedies for his depression, but it never worked for long. And James’ suggestion of sweets, soda, and pot were certainly not a help.

The worst was when Fiona would tell him tales of Eric. How he seemed to always get into trouble, instigating and fighting and not giving a damn about other people. The eternal victim. Hell, he had almost gotten her killed a few times. It made him sick. He didn’t want to think of what that desperate creep was up to, and why the hell he needed someone to help him live his life. He hoped he didn’t live life like he played videogames, killing people who were actually on his team when he got frustrated.

But that would be ridiculous. That wasn’t an action that human society would even remotely condone. But still, he couldn’t help but be a little nervous.

With all the help that he had been getting, he didn’t expect the most useful bit of advice to come from the person that it did.

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hide spoiler

AA: s0l0m0n
TA: ariiana? You’re aliive!
AA: yes h0w cute assuming that the y0ur 0ld l0ve died and n0t that she had an awful experience the last 2 years
TA: yeah well you diidn’t try to contact me at all 2o iit’s your own fault
AA: whatever. it d0es n0t matter. S0l0m0n, i need your help.
TA: oh really now.
AA: yes s0l0m0n. we’re g0ing t0 play a game 0_0

Utterly fantastic. Can't wait to see what happens next!