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

[SeptimusMagistos]

More of We're All Doomed (archive woefully incomplete until I have more time for formatting).

Chapter 8: Do what you want, do what you must.

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John didn’t know it, but he was about to receive a nice little power-up, courtesy of his dear old friend Vriska. She had guided him through the village full of salamanders and tolerated his stupidly adorable antics. But eventually he’d found his way to the Quest Bed. Bless his gullible little heart. Now all Vriska had to do was get him killed, and then he would ascend to god tier. Once that was done, even he would be able to blunder his way through the challenges of the game and whatever the White Text Guy cared to throw at her.

The method of murder was most elegant. She snagged a wandering agent of Derse and directed him to a nearby source of prey. An enemy, she told him. A player – defenseless, sleeping. A commendation in store for him if he could take advantage of the moment.

It should have been flawless.

And yet just before he could actually ascend the staircase, the agent stopped. His mind was suddenly filled with fear and he ran, resisting further influence.

Vriska did not allow that to stop her. She snagged an Ogre, filling its mind with images of an unprotected human.

And was immediately countered with images of hurricane-force winds rising up to break bones and sweep away enemies. The ogre was lost to her.

But now she knew whom to blame.

View Pesterlog:

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arachnidsGrip [AG] began trolling adiosToreador [AT]

AG: Tavros, what do you think you’re doing?!
AT: i THINK THAT I AM PROTECTING SOMEONE WHO IS ASLEEP,
AT: fROM MONSTERS,
AT: wHICH I THINK IS A HELPFUL THING TO DO,
AG: Cut it out, Torealoser.
AG: I have something planned, and you are getting mixed into it.
AG: I really don’t want to have to get you out of the way.
AT: nO,
AT: i THINK THAT YOU WANT TO HURT JOHN,
AT: fOR SOME REASON,
AT: eVEN THOUGH I THOUGHT YOU KIND OF LIKED HIM,
AT: wHICH MEANS, i THINK, tHAT I HAVE TO PROTECT HIM FROM YOU,
AG: Wow.
AG: That seems like a loooooooot of unwarranted confidence on your part.
AT: nO, i AM NOT BEING CONFIDENT,
AT: jUST BECAUSE I AM STANDING UP TO YOU DOES NOT MEAN CONFIDENCE IS WHAT IS TAKING PLACE HERE,
AG: Well, at least you’re honest with yourself.
AG: So now scurry away like a gooooooood little spineless wimp and let me do my jo8.
AT: nO, yOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND,
AT: i AM SAYING THAT CONFIDENCE IS NOT THE ONLY THING THAT CAN LET YOU DO A THING THAT YOU ARE SCARED TO DO,
AT: lIKE NOW I AM NOT FEELING CONFIDENT AT ALL, bUT I AM STILL NOT GOING TO LET YOU KILL ONE OF JADE’S FRIENDS,
AT: aND, i GUESS, oNE OF MY FRIENDS TOO,
AT: sO I AM NOT GOING TO ABSCOND,
AT: aND ALSO NOT ADVANCE,
AT: i AM JUST GOING TO STAY RIGHT HERE,
AT: aND BLOCK YOUR PROGRESS,
AG: Very clever!
AG: Except........
AG: You forgot that I can just control you and have you finish the job yourself!
AT: nO, yOU CAN’T,
AG: Oh, reaaaaaaaaly?
AG: It seemed to work pretty well in the past.
AG: Are you sure you haven’t been getting more confident?
AG: Completely sure?
AT: i AM PRETTY CONFIDENT THAT I AM NOT CONFIDENT,
AT: bUT CONFIDENCE, i THINK, hAS LIMITS,
AT: yOU ARE THE MOST CONFIDENT PERSON OF US ALL,
AT: bUT WHEN THE DEMON SHOWED UP, yOU DID NOT FIGHT HIM,
AT: yOU RAN AWAY WITH THE REST OF US,
AT: i THINK THAT IS BECAUSE THE PART OF YOU THAT IS AFRAID IS SOMETIMES RIGHT,
AT: aND YOU REALLY CAN’T DO SOMETHING NO MATTER HOW CONFIDENT YOU ARE,
AT: sO MAYBE INSTEAD OF TRYING TO DO IT, yOU CAN FIND A BETTER WAY,
AG: Oh?
AG: And just what is this better way of yours?
AT: iT IS AN ANTI-MIND CONTROL HELMET,
AG: Li8s!
AG: You could n8ver gener8 something like that!
AT: nO,
AT: tHE PSYCHIC POWERS SUBCOMMITTEE WILL MAKE IT IN THE FUTURE,
AT: wHICH YOU WOULD KNOW IF YOU ACTUALLY SHOWED UP TO THE MEETINGS LIKE YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO,
AG: In case you haven’t noticed, I have 8een a little 8it 8usy here!
AT: oKAY, bUT THE ACTUAL POINT IS,
AT: aFTER THEY MAKE IT, tHEY WILL SEND IT BACK TO ME,
AT: bECAUSE THEY DON’T TRUST YOU,
AG: W8, really? Is this for real?
AT: yES,
AT: uHHH,
AT: sORRY,
AG: What the Hell, Tavros? It’s not like you to orchestr8 something so elaborate.
AT: wELL, i DID NOT REALLY ORCHESTRATE ANYTHING,
AT: i JUST WENT AND ASKED SOMEONE FOR HELP, bECAUSE,
AT: i WAS KIND OF SCARED THAT YOU WOULD TRY SOMETHING LIKE THIS,
AT: eVEN THOUGH WE ARE ALREADY IN A DOOMED SESSION,
AT: sO YOU DON’T REALLY NEED TO MAKE THINGS ANY WORSE,
AG: I’m not making them worse, you m8r8n!
AG: I am makin8 them 8etter!!!!!!!!
AG: Listen, I’ll level with you.
AG: For reasons I don’t want to go into right now, John is in a lot of danger.
AG: So if he’s going to succeed in his missi8n, he will need every advantage he can get.
AT: oKAY, iN THAT CASE WHY DON’T YOU WAKE HIM UP,
AT: aND THEN WE CAN MAYBE MESSAGE HIM AND EXPLAIN ALL THIS TO HIM,
AT: aND IF HE AGREES THAT ASCENDING TO THE GOD TIER IS MORE IMPORTANT TO HIM THAN HAVING A DREAMSELF,
AT: tHEN YOU CAN MAKE HIM SLEEP AGAIN AND KILL HIM,
AT: iF THAT’S WHAT HE WANTS,
AG: That won’t work!
AG: And you know very well it won’t work, because the reason it won’t work is that John is the same kind of w88ni8 you are
AG: except that he h8s someone to make him better.
AG: Just like you could have had, expc8pt that you rejected her and wanted to just k88p on 8eing a loser forever!
AG: I h8 you, Tavros!
AG: h8 h8 h8!
AG: h88888888!!!!!!!!
AT: sORRY, bUT I, uHHH, dON’T HATE YOU BACK,
AT: nOT REALLY,
AT: aND I DEFINITELY THINK THAT JOHN IS THE ONE WHO NEEDS TO MAKE THIS DECISION,
AT: aND NOT YOU,
AT: sO I WILL KEEP BLOCKING YOU,
AT: uNLESS JOHN TELLS ME TO STOP,
AT: sORRY,

adiosToreador [AT] stopped being trolled by arachnidsGrip [AG]

Vriska took a moment to ponder whether she could just take Tavros down. Fly over to his location, knock him out, break his stupid helmet, and go back to helping John.

No, she decided. With Gamzee out there, the trolls were confined to extremely close quarters, so the others would see her. And they’d take his side, of course. Like anyone would ever take her side. And she couldn’t handle all of them, god-tier or no. With everyone jumping on her at once, losing would not be considered particularly unlucky.

She tried overcoming Tavros in the mental arena, but couldn’t manage it. She was of course by far the more inventive manipulator. But everyone was just more inclined to listen to Tavros. Everyone without exception. Something about the dumb little innocent way of his made him seem trustworthy - as if he wouldn’t let them down the second they tried to rely on him!

And then the dog came. The dumb mutt of a First Guardian from the kids’ pathetic Earth. She could never believe the sheer unfairness of it – somehow they got the lovable animal while she got the infuriatingly omniscient manipulator.

It was being guided by Tavros, of course. He was good at getting through to lower intellects. One wave of its tail, and John was away from the bed to which she so generously guided him and down in his own stupid human hive. She had failed.

A8ain.

A/N:

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The fact I didn't plan or realize this was going to be chapter 8 kind of freaks me out.

[Graven_Image]

More of We're All Doomed (archive woefully incomplete until I have more time for formatting).

Chapter 8: Do what you want, do what you must.

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John didn’t know it, but he was about to receive a nice little power-up, courtesy of his dear old friend Vriska. She had guided him through the village full of salamanders and tolerated his stupidly adorable antics. But eventually he’d found his way to the Quest Bed. Bless his gullible little heart. Now all Vriska had to do was get him killed, and then he would ascend to god tier. Once that was done, even he would be able to blunder his way through the challenges of the game and whatever the White Text Guy cared to throw at her.

The method of murder was most elegant. She snagged a wandering agent of Derse and directed him to a nearby source of prey. An enemy, she told him. A player – defenseless, sleeping. A commendation in store for him if he could take advantage of the moment.

It should have been flawless.

And yet just before he could actually ascend the staircase, the agent stopped. His mind was suddenly filled with fear and he ran, resisting further influence.

Vriska did not allow that to stop her. She snagged an Ogre, filling its mind with images of an unprotected human.

And was immediately countered with images of hurricane-force winds rising up to break bones and sweep away enemies. The ogre was lost to her.

But now she knew whom to blame.

View Pesterlog:

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arachnidsGrip [AG] began trolling adiosToreador [AT]

AG: Tavros, what do you think you’re doing?!
AT: i THINK THAT I AM PROTECTING SOMEONE WHO IS ASLEEP,
AT: fROM MONSTERS,
AT: wHICH I THINK IS A HELPFUL THING TO DO,
AG: Cut it out, Torealoser.
AG: I have something planned, and you are getting mixed into it.
AG: I really don’t want to have to get you out of the way.
AT: nO,
AT: i THINK THAT YOU WANT TO HURT JOHN,
AT: fOR SOME REASON,
AT: eVEN THOUGH I THOUGHT YOU KIND OF LIKED HIM,
AT: wHICH MEANS, i THINK, tHAT I HAVE TO PROTECT HIM FROM YOU,
AG: Wow.
AG: That seems like a loooooooot of unwarranted confidence on your part.
AT: nO, i AM NOT BEING CONFIDENT,
AT: jUST BECAUSE I AM STANDING UP TO YOU DOES NOT MEAN CONFIDENCE IS WHAT IS TAKING PLACE HERE,
AG: Well, at least you’re honest with yourself.
AG: So now scurry away like a gooooooood little spineless wimp and let me do my jo8.
AT: nO, yOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND,
AT: i AM SAYING THAT CONFIDENCE IS NOT THE ONLY THING THAT CAN LET YOU DO A THING THAT YOU ARE SCARED TO DO,
AT: lIKE NOW I AM NOT FEELING CONFIDENT AT ALL, bUT I AM STILL NOT GOING TO LET YOU KILL ONE OF JADE’S FRIENDS,
AT: aND, i GUESS, oNE OF MY FRIENDS TOO,
AT: sO I AM NOT GOING TO ABSCOND,
AT: aND ALSO NOT ADVANCE,
AT: i AM JUST GOING TO STAY RIGHT HERE,
AT: aND BLOCK YOUR PROGRESS,
AG: Very clever!
AG: Except........
AG: You forgot that I can just control you and have you finish the job yourself!
AT: nO, yOU CAN’T,
AG: Oh, reaaaaaaaaly?
AG: It seemed to work pretty well in the past.
AG: Are you sure you haven’t been getting more confident?
AG: Completely sure?
AT: i AM PRETTY CONFIDENT THAT I AM NOT CONFIDENT,
AT: bUT CONFIDENCE, i THINK, hAS LIMITS,
AT: yOU ARE THE MOST CONFIDENT PERSON OF US ALL,
AT: bUT WHEN THE DEMON SHOWED UP, yOU DID NOT FIGHT HIM,
AT: yOU RAN AWAY WITH THE REST OF US,
AT: i THINK THAT IS BECAUSE THE PART OF YOU THAT IS AFRAID IS SOMETIMES RIGHT,
AT: aND YOU REALLY CAN’T DO SOMETHING NO MATTER HOW CONFIDENT YOU ARE,
AT: sO MAYBE INSTEAD OF TRYING TO DO IT, yOU CAN FIND A BETTER WAY,
AG: Oh?
AG: And just what is this better way of yours?
AT: iT IS AN ANTI-MIND CONTROL HELMET,
AG: Li8s!
AG: You could n8ver gener8 something like that!
AT: nO,
AT: tHE PSYCHIC POWERS SUBCOMMITTEE WILL MAKE IT IN THE FUTURE,
AT: wHICH YOU WOULD KNOW IF YOU ACTUALLY SHOWED UP TO THE MEETINGS LIKE YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO,
AG: In case you haven’t noticed, I have 8een a little 8it 8usy here!
AT: oKAY, bUT THE ACTUAL POINT IS,
AT: aFTER THEY MAKE IT, tHEY WILL SEND IT BACK TO ME,
AT: bECAUSE THEY DON’T TRUST YOU,
AG: W8, really? Is this for real?
AT: yES,
AT: uHHH,
AT: sORRY,
AG: What the Hell, Tavros? It’s not like you to orchestr8 something so elaborate.
AT: wELL, i DID NOT REALLY ORCHESTRATE ANYTHING,
AT: i JUST WENT AND ASKED SOMEONE FOR HELP, bECAUSE,
AT: i WAS KIND OF SCARED THAT YOU WOULD TRY SOMETHING LIKE THIS,
AT: eVEN THOUGH WE ARE ALREADY IN A DOOMED SESSION,
AT: sO YOU DON’T REALLY NEED TO MAKE THINGS ANY WORSE,
AG: I’m not making them worse, you m8r8n!
AG: I am makin8 them 8etter!!!!!!!!
AG: Listen, I’ll level with you.
AG: For reasons I don’t want to go into right now, John is in a lot of danger.
AG: So if he’s going to succeed in his missi8n, he will need every advantage he can get.
AT: oKAY, iN THAT CASE WHY DON’T YOU WAKE HIM UP,
AT: aND THEN WE CAN MAYBE MESSAGE HIM AND EXPLAIN ALL THIS TO HIM,
AT: aND IF HE AGREES THAT ASCENDING TO THE GOD TIER IS MORE IMPORTANT TO HIM THAN HAVING A DREAMSELF,
AT: tHEN YOU CAN MAKE HIM SLEEP AGAIN AND KILL HIM,
AT: iF THAT’S WHAT HE WANTS,
AG: That won’t work!
AG: And you know very well it won’t work, because the reason it won’t work is that John is the same kind of w88ni8 you are
AG: except that he h8s someone to make him better.
AG: Just like you could have had, expc8pt that you rejected her and wanted to just k88p on 8eing a loser forever!
AG: I h8 you, Tavros!
AG: h8 h8 h8!
AG: h88888888!!!!!!!!
AT: sORRY, bUT I, uHHH, dON’T HATE YOU BACK,
AT: nOT REALLY,
AT: aND I DEFINITELY THINK THAT JOHN IS THE ONE WHO NEEDS TO MAKE THIS DECISION,
AT: aND NOT YOU,
AT: sO I WILL KEEP BLOCKING YOU,
AT: uNLESS JOHN TELLS ME TO STOP,
AT: sORRY,

adiosToreador [AT] stopped being trolled by arachnidsGrip [AG]

Vriska took a moment to ponder whether she could just take Tavros down. Fly over to his location, knock him out, break his stupid helmet, and go back to helping John.

No, she decided. With Gamzee out there, the trolls were confined to extremely close quarters, so the others would see her. And they’d take his side, of course. Like anyone would ever take her side. And she couldn’t handle all of them, god-tier or no. With everyone jumping on her at once, losing would not be considered particularly unlucky.

She tried overcoming Tavros in the mental arena, but couldn’t manage it. She was of course by far the more inventive manipulator. But everyone was just more inclined to listen to Tavros. Everyone without exception. Something about the dumb little innocent way of his made him seem trustworthy - as if he wouldn’t let them down the second they tried to rely on him!

And then the dog came. The dumb mutt of a First Guardian from the kids’ pathetic Earth. She could never believe the sheer unfairness of it – somehow they got the lovable animal while she got the infuriatingly omniscient manipulator.

It was being guided by Tavros, of course. He was good at getting through to lower intellects. One wave of its tail, and John was away from the bed to which she so generously guided him and down in his own stupid human hive. She had failed.

A8ain.

A/N:

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The fact I didn't plan or realize this was going to be chapter 8 kind of freaks me out.

Well, that was an excellent Ch8pter 8ight, good sir. That number is hilarious on so many levels, I can't even tell you.

[Jim Groovester]

The Sapphire of Alternia, Part 5

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The ride to the police station is completely silent. The cops have no interest in talking to private detectives, which suits Problem Sleuth just perfectly because he has no interest in talking to them. They pull over at the station, and Sleuth steps outside.

“Follow me.” One of the cops says.

“I know the way.” Problem Sleuth brushes past the cop.

Problem Sleuth walks past the reception desk, allowing the cops behind him to handle the protests from the officers working the desk. He strides past busy desks of paperwork and into the back where the offices of the head detectives are.

Anarchy Repressor’s office. Problem Sleuth has been in this room plenty of times, never by choice. The detective always wants to have a word with Problem Sleuth. Always wants to know what he’s working on. Always tells him they’re on the same team. Always tells him he owes Sleuth one. It stinks in there. And not just of sweaty men and cheap cologne. Sleuth walks in without knocking.

Anarchy Repressor and a few men are discussing Murdered Courier’s case. He turns to Problem Sleuth. “Problem Sleuth. Did you get any sleep?” He says as he sits in his chair.

“No thanks to you.” Problem Sleuth responds.

“So,” Anarchy Repressor starts. “Did you look into the murder like I asked?”

“Nah.” Sleuth puts a cigarette in his mouth. Maybe the smoke will help with the smell.

“There’s no smoking in here.” One of Repressor’s detectives points out.

Sleuth shoots a glare at the man from beneath his brow as he’s lighting the cigarette. He blows a large cloud of smoke in defiance. “I decided to take a nap at my desk. Sorry, Repressor. I don’t know anything more than I did when I left the scene.”

“Really.” He says more than asks. Anarchy Repressor pulls a wallet out of his desk and throws it on the surface. “What’s this?”

Sleuth looks at Repressor like he’s stupid. “It’s a wallet.” He says. “Yours?”

“I should ask you.” Repressor says. “I found it in your office.”

“Hey.” Sleuth points a finger at Repressor. “You don’t have any business in my office.”

“Police investigations are my business, Sleuth.” Repressor half shouts. “You want to explain what Movement Contractor’s wallet was doing in your office, Problem Sleuth?”

Problem Sleuth takes a moment. “I was gonna give it to you later.” Sleuth gives his best smile.

“The way we see it-“ One of the detectives pipes up.

“Shut up.” Anarchy Repressor snaps. “Did you shoot him, Sleuth?” Repressor asks.

Sleuth raises a brow. “So this is how it’s gonna be, huh, Repressor?”

“Answer the damn question.”

“No, and you’re a terrible cop for thinking it.”

“I’ll lay it straight for you, Sleuth.” Anarchy Repressor stands up and walks to Sleuth.

“Good.” Sleuth says annoyed. “I don’t like all this dancing around.”

“You’re the only person with ties to the victim.” Anarchy Repressor says to Sleuth’s face. “We didn’t find the wallet at the scene. Then we find it at your office. That puts you at the scene of the crime.” Repressor pauses. “More than enough to put you away.”

Sleuth takes a breath and blows smoke in Repressor’s face. “Is that what you think.” He says, more as a statement. “I always carry my key so that’s means. My alibi won’t hold in court so that’s opportunity. But half this town fits those two.” Sleuth says. “So what’s the motive?”

“Whatever the courier was carrying.” A detective pipes up.

“I told you to shut up!” Repressor shouts. “Everybody get out.” The detectives look at each other. “Are you deaf? Get out of here. I can deal with private eyes with bad attitudes all on my own. I don’t need a cheerleading squad.”

The detectives shuffle out of the room. They glare at Problem Sleuth on their way out. Anarchy Repressor slams the door behind them. As soon as they’re gone Anarchy Repressor’s posture relaxes.

“It smells terrible in here with them around.” Sleuth says, pulling a fresh cigarette out of his pack. “You know what it smells like?”

“Like indifference?” Repressor takes the cigarette.

“Yeah.” Sleuth says, lighting it for Repressor. “And ambition. Like they all want your job, and don’t care how they get it.”

Repressor takes a puff from the cigarette.

“Now that the kids are out of the room,” Sleuth says. "What'd you really bring me here for?

“I’ve got a problem. I hear you can help me with those.”

Sleuth rolls his eyes.

“Do you know who I got a call from today?” Sleuth shakes his head. “I got a call from Wellmannered Vicemayor. The deputy mayor, can you believe it? And you know what he tells me?” Sleuth shakes his head again. “He says,” Anarchy Repressor stands up straight and curls his finger and thumb around his eye in a mock-monocle. “‘Anarchy Repressor, I think you should solve the murder of that courier quickly.’” He says, mocking the deputy mayor’s voice.

“So what?” Sleuth asks. “If you want to do your job right you can’t speed these things up.”

“That’s what I told him. He repeated himself, said I should close it quickly. He made it very clear.”

“I see.” Sleuth says. “So I’m your fall guy.”

Anarchy Repressor frowns. “You’re my fall guy.”

Sleuth waits. “But...?”

“But I know you didn’t kill that courier. You sure as hell halted the investigation before it started, but you didn’t kill him. I don’t like throwing innocent men behind bars.” Anarchy Repressor says. “The deputy mayor’s just a stooge. Whoever’s telling him what to do, they want somebody behind bars and they don’t care who it is. I’m sorry, Sleuth, but that somebody’s gotta be you.” He finishes. “Unless...”

“Let me guess. I find the murderer.”

“You’re a smart guy, Sleuth.”

“I think I’m gonna stop doing you favors. You ask me to look into murders and then you try and pin them on me.” Sleuth sighs. “You run down those addresses?”

“Yeah.” Anarchy Repressor says. “We didn’t learn anything about what he might’ve been carrying; all the addresses led to homes or workplaces, and everybody we caught at the addresses all said they got their packages. We did learn who the victim was.”

“Murdered Courier.”

“What? No. Movement Contractor. Though that is an appropriate name for him now.” Repressor says. “But as soon as we tracked down his address through the phone book, we realized that there were already cops on the scene dealing with a shoot out. Your handiwork?”

Sleuth looks over his trenchcoat. “No bullet holes. Can’t say if I’ve been in any shootouts today.”

“Right.” Repressor says. “The place had already been ransacked by the Midnight Crew. If there was anything useful to find, Diamonds Droog stuffed it in his brawlsoleum.” Repressor finishes. “That’s my side of the story, now what’s yours?”

“I went to the man’s apartment first thing in the morning. The Midnight Crew got there not much longer after me. I found a client list and mailed it to myself.”

“Why?”

“’Cause nobody messes with the mail in this town.” Sleuth responds. “What, you hit your head tripping over your caution tape?”

Repressor motions him to continue. “And?”

“And what? That’s it. I got to the place first and bagged some evidence, which I’ll tell you right now, I’m going to need if I’m gonna have any chance of solving this case.”

“How’d the Midnight Crew get there so fast?” Repressor asks.

“You say you ran the addresses?”

“Yeah.”

“When’d you have your men start doing that?”

“First thing in the morning.”

“I’ll bet you,” Sleuth says. “That my first thing in the morning is later than yours.”

A realization dawns on Anarchy Repressor’s face. “One of my detectives is dirty.”

“Seems that way.” Sleuth says. “When did you search my office?”

“After we found the apartment ransacked, one of my men suggested that we see if you found anything yet. I went to your office, didn’t find you there, but I did find the wallet. So I sent out word to the traffic cops to find you and take you here.”

“Not surprising. The Midnight Crew probably told their man after I crashed their party.” Sleuth says. “You gonna be able to do anything about that?”

Anarchy Repressor shakes his head. “I don’t think so. I don’t know who to trust in internal affairs to handle this. I’ll just have to work around him somehow.” Anarchy Repressor says. “But look, Sleuth. Even if they’re not dirty, the rest of my men are more than willing to blindly follow orders and not ask questions.”

“Sounds like somebody I know.”

“I don’t think I can give you too much time, or else my men are going to get antsy ignoring you when no other leads are turning up. Then I'll be out of a job and someone who doesn't do you any favors will be head of the case." Sleuth laughs at the mention of favors. "A week. Probably less. Once that point gets here, well, I’ll have to throw your ass in the slammer.”

Sleuth blows some smoke out. “Yeah, I ain’t ever doing you a favor again. Not until you start paying up on them.”

Anarchy Repressor shrugs. “That’s just how it is.”

“Is that all?” Sleuth asks.

“Yeah.” Repressor says. He gets up and opens the door and lets Sleuth out. “He’s not our man.” He says to the detectives.

Sleuth walks out and pats the shoulder of one of the detectives. “Keep up the good work.” He says with a smile. He walks towards the exit.

“How do you figure he’s not our man?” He hears the detectives arguing behind him.

“If Problem Sleuth wanted to kill a man he’d fill him full of lead and throw him through the station doors daring us to say he did it.” Anarchy Repressor explains. “Single bullets aren’t his style.”

“That’s bullshit, Captain.”

“If it is then we know where to find him!”

Problem Sleuth walks outside the station and takes a breath. It was stuffy in there. Hard to breathe with so much lazy incompetence filling the air.

Problem Sleuth: Check the time.

You’ve been all over this town today. It’s getting late. If you want to catch Wallstreet Keynoter before he heads home for the night you better get to where he works quick.

If it wasn’t for lazy meddling cops you would’ve been there by now.

Problem Sleuth: Get to Wallstreet Keynoter’s workplace.

There isn’t a cab or a payphone nearby. But the office building isn’t too far away. Twenty blocks or so. Maybe Wallstreet Keynoter is working late tonight, and you’ll catch him as he’s leaving.

It’ll give you a chance to think, at least.

Problem Sleuth starts walking, hands tucked into his coat pockets. He looks up in the sky. The sun is hanging low in the sky, and the skyscrapers he heads towards cast sharp shadows onto each other. The sky is red from the sun, giving everything a dim red tint.

What do the Midnight Crew want? Anarchy Repressor’s dirty man probably tipped them off about Problem Sleuth’s wild speculation about what the courier was carrying, and they got interested at the prospect of it being something valuable. Last time he runs his mouth at a murder scene. Although since he’s working on a guess just as much as they are, maybe they know something he doesn’t. He’ll have to ask one of them somehow. Use some of his Sleuth diplomacy to get some answers.

Problem Sleuth loses himself in thought as he walks towards the gleaming skyscrapers comprising the downtown of the city. As the financial sector of the city, perfectly respectable sums of money traveled through the towers, being traded and gained and lost throughout the day, but that wasn’t where the real money was. Though it was where the honest money was made, though there are differing opinions on that matter.

By the time Problem Sleuth reaches Wallstreet Keynoter’s building, the sun has set and the building is closed for the day. He stares up from the ground level. It houses Keynote Bank, and the building takes its name after the company that owns it and funded its construction. It was one of the first buildings constructed after the Midnight Crew gave up urban planning to people less interested in putting a secret gambling den on every corner and racing tracks in the middle of residential areas.

Office workers and secretaries and bankers and accountants are still leaving the building after its closing. Problem Sleuth grabs the door as a man exits. Problem Sleuth walks to the receptionist.

“Excuse me, is Wallstreet Keynoter still in the building?” He asks.

“No, he left a while ago.” A tall white carapace in an expensive striped suit holding a briefcase and coat over his arm leans on to the receptionist’s desk. He offers his hand for a shake. “How you been, Problem Sleuth?” He asks with a smile.

Problem Sleuth grabs the hand. “Damn, I haven’t seen you in forever. I forget what you go by now.”

“Litigious Lawyer.” He says. “What brings you to this part of town?”

“I need to speak with Wallstreet Keynoter.”

“The big man?” Lawyer asks. “Have you reconsidered?”

“What?”

Litigious Lawyer looks confused. Problem Sleuth looks confused right back. “Oh, sorry. What am I talking about. Things have been hectic for me recently. I think I must have mixed you up with someone else.” Lawyer explains. “Sorry about that. What do you need to see the big man for? I can get you in to see him, easy.”

Problem Sleuth pushes off from the counter. “The details are private. I’m in the middle of a case.” Sleuth says. “You understand.”

“Of course I do.” Lawyer says. “Listen, swing by anytime tomorrow. I’ll tell the big man you’re coming, and you should be able to see him in less than five minutes.”

Problem Sleuth chuckles. “I guess it’s good to have old friends in high places.”

“Anything for you, Sleuth. Hey,” Litigious Lawyer touches Sleuth on the shoulder. “You want to catch up? Get a drink, maybe? It’s been a while. I only hear about you whenever you shoot somebody and it ends up in the papers. I’d like to hear what my old friend and comrade’s been up to from his own mouth for a change.”

Sleuth shrugs and puts his hands in his pockets. “Things have been pretty hectic for me too. I’m working some cases. Let’s just say, they’re very interesting.” Sleuth smirks.

“I see what you’re saying, Sleuth.” He says. “It’s getting dark. You got a way to get home?”

“’Fraid I don’t.”

Litigious Lawyer turns to the receptionist. “Call this man a taxi, the best one in town.” He turns back to Sleuth. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Sleuth.” He offers a hand for a shake. Sleuth grabs it. “Keep yourself safe out there.”

Litigious Lawyer walks out of the building and into a waiting taxi. It’s not a surprise to Sleuth that he works here. He was always attached to Wallstreet Keynoter, even before he took that name.

“Sir, the taxi is on its way.” The receptionist tells him. He nods and walks out the door. In a few minutes the taxi rolls up to the building. The windows roll down, and Sleuth expects to see the best cab driver in town.

It’s nobody he recognizes. “Where am I taking you?” The cab driver asks.

Sleuth tells him the address to his apartment, and spends the quiet ride relaxing. Once at his building he exits and pays the driver. He goes up to his apartment, takes off his coat and hat, and lies down on his bed. As he thinks about changing for bed he falls asleep.

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Yap yap yap yap yap yap. All anybody does in this fic is talk.

I'm not sure I like the scene between PS and AR. I feel like they should be more hostile to each other than they are.

Here's the second original character (not counting corpses) in this fic. He seems like a pretty friendly guy.

[Path]

._. can I request more jealous Droog fic?

Oh man, you sure can. I love it when people take enough of an interest in my writing to ask me to write particular things. I'll see what I can cook up over the next few days.

@Path. That was amazing. As ever. (also I want more Hysterical Dame and/or Nervous Broad cameo??? :3)

NB/HB alternate OTP?

@path But aaa Hysterical Dame, so happy she popped up.

I've been tossing around some Sleuth/Snowman and had to try out the complementary pairing. So silly.

Never leave, path!

Oh jeez I will see what I can do about that

I can see what you mean about it being too long and a little too much. I think where it suffers a bit is the exposition dump. There's too much in the beginning. Once you hit the action it picks up quite a bit, so I don't think you did anything wrong, you just need to slim that down a tad.

I'm totally used to writing like 7-10 page OC stuff so I'm still getting used to this stuff. Writing for other people is so different from writing for yourself.

COMMENTS, IT'S NOT ALL ABOUT ME

THE BLACK SCEPTER OF THE LUCID SERAPH (Artifact ****), THE BLEAK CROWN OF THE LUCID SERAPH (Artifact ****), THE GOBLET OF TEARS (ARTIFACT ???)

Oh my god, Calligramancer, you are writing up Exalted artifacts and I love you for it. I was reading and expecting Call of Cthulhu but it was my favourite game instead! ILU ILU so much

“How do you figure he’s not our man?” He hears the detectives arguing behind him.
“If Problem Sleuth wanted to kill a man he’d fill him full of lead and throw him through the station doors daring us to say he did it.” Anarchy Repressor explains. “Single bullets aren’t his style.”

That is so classy, Problem Sleuth. I am almost starting to confuse you with my other favourite detective. (Harry Dresden.)

[TacticGamer]

I don't even really know what spawned this, just a weird sort of "what if?" thought. And suddenly, I had to write it. Oh, by the way, blood.

Killer

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Eridan ran through the depths of the lab, praying not to be found. He tried to make as little sound as he could, but it was hard, and the blind panic made him stumble, made him falter. He could hardly see, it was too dark and he'd lost his glasses and it was too blurry. His wand was gone, in two pieces and tossed aside when he'd tried to use it. He was weaponless, defenseless, and scared out of his mind—

Ohgodohgodohgod did he just hear a sound behind him?

He couldn't help it. He paused, turned, and tried as hard as he could to see more than a few feet away. He even squinted, but nothing worked. All he saw was more and more shadow. He turned back ahead. Nothing good would come out of looking back. He had to keep going, had to try to survive. He didn't want to die at the hands of that madman. Not like this.

Finally, the hallway ended. Eridan cautiously walked into the room. The farther he went, the darker it became, but he somehow managed to tiptoe around all the discarded pieces of metal that littered the space. If he knocked into any of those, he'd be found out for sure.

The room went on and on. It was dusty and old, and it smelled as though no one had been here for ages. The walls and floors creaked as he walked, and every time they did, he was sure someone was behind him, ready to spill his blood, ready to kill him. He fought the panic and paranoia and looked for something, anything, that he could use as a weapon.

And then he found it. It was an old abandoned alchemiter, looking a little rusted but probably still workable. His spirits soared. He still had the totem from when Kanaya had made his wand. Maybe, if he could make another, he could—

He stopped when he felt something cold and metallic touch his neck. His blood ran cold as a voice whispered in his ear.

"Hello, Eridan."

"Oh god, oh god, please don't kill me, I'll do anything—" Eridan rambled, and as he did, the metal disappeared.

"Turn around, you blubbering fucking pansy." He did so, slowly, but he knew what he would see. It still terrified him when he did.

Karkat. Blood still stained his shirt and sickle, and his expression hadn't changed. His face, usually contorted in rage, had become calm, almost serene. Only a slight smile tugged at his lips. When he saw him again, Eridan lost it.

"Why, Kar? Why did you kill them? Fef, Kan, even Sol! They were your friends! Just like I am!"

"Friends?" He said, his voice silky smooth. "I don't make friends with creatures with your dirty blood colors." His smile widened slowly as he spoke, revealing more and more teeth. He inched closer to Eridan, that wicked sickle closing in. "You see, I've finally realized the truth. It's not my blood that's mutant. It's all of yours. The Dersites and Prospitians, even the humans, all of them have my candy red blood. We are the normal ones. You and the rest are the freaks. And it's my duty, as the Knight of Blood, to exterminate all of you." His face was inches from Eridan's now, grinning with wicked delight. "And it's been a joy doing so, making you, who was so sure of his superiority, squirm and crawl and flee in the dark. But the chase is over now, and so is your tyranny. Goodbye, Eridan."

He moved quicker than Eridan could see. A flash of metal, and it was all over. Amethyst blood stained the floor, and hollow laughter rang through the empty hallway.

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Hehehe, I kind of like killer Karkat.

He should shave his horns and make his teeth blunt to kill them no good mutants.

[arcaneCalligramancer]

THE BLACK SCEPTER OF THE LUCID SERAPH (Artifact ****), THE BLEAK CROWN OF THE LUCID SERAPH (Artifact ****), THE GOBLET OF TEARS (ARTIFACT ???)

Oh my god, Calligramancer, you are writing up Exalted artifacts and I love you for it. I was reading and expecting Call of Cthulhu but it was my favourite game instead! ILU ILU so much

...

?

[ArmsAreLoud]

Warning: Unbelievably shitty poetry ahead. Pope would not be pleased by these couplets. ArmsAreLoud presents...
The Best Pies In Alternia

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welcome to my bakery, my darling little shop!
I CAN ASSURE ALL YOU FUCKERS MY PIES ARE TIP-TOP!
perhaps you'd like a sample? the first taste is free.
YOU WON'T LAST TO REGRET A SINGLE MEAL WITH ME.
take a look at our menu; the jade pie's a treat!
I BET YOU'LL LOVE THE TASTE OF OUR VAMPIRE MEAT.
oh my, not a fan? the darker green's divine!
A LEAN, SMOOTH TEXTURE FOUND IN OUR BEST FELINE.
now, now, now, don't you go! you just must try the red.
IT'S OUR SPECIALTY, AFTER ALL; KARKIE'S SWEETER NOW HE'S DEAD.

Author Comments

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Yep, poetry. This was originally going to be another fic, but I figured "Ah what the hell, I haven't done any poetry in a while".

I have been reminded why I typically write in prose.

[SeptimusMagistos]

I share your pain. I am writing the next chapter and failing monumentally at writing rap. Mainly I'm getting doggerel.

[ArmsAreLoud]

I feel like writing a short story to cleanse the taint.

But what to wriiiiiiiite?

[Rebbe]

OH GOODNESS. I am so very good at keeping up with forums. Last time I checked, it was page ~70 of the last thread! What even. At least I have something to bring with me! Just a super short ficlet, since I haven't had much time for writing lately. herp derp

It is called Culture Shock and is Terezi-centric, with a taste of Terezi♥Dave. Please enjoy (:

Now to do a slightly better job of not falling horrifically behind.

[mutecebu]

Talk of robo-armor nepeta reminds me of this:
http://buttersafe.com/2011/02/03/the...the-turbo-cat/

[SkaianRedeemer]

@Jim Groovester: I don't mind if they talk, it's still interesting! By the way, you call WK "Wealthy Keynoter" in the game text segment in the middle there. Probably still true but I'm thinking typo more than Freudian Slip. On the subject of names, "IA" threw me because I immediately assumed it was another character's name, not a boring old standard acronym. Unless internal affairs is run by the Investigative Agent. ...I'm not forgetting someone already, am I?

@Rebbe: Aw, Rezi. :(( Good luck keeping up the thread, Rebbe! This place has daunted lesser users before. By which I mean me. More than once.

[Jim Groovester]

@Skaian Redeemer: I did? Damn. Time to go fix that. I'll get a name wrong sometimes when I'm typing it out but I'll usually catch it before it goes in or during the editing phase. At least I haven't slipped up horribly and left Problem Slick in there.

And no, you haven't missed a character. I don't think I've referred to any character through abbreviation, even in the game text segments (thanks for the name), but I'll go edit that to avoid confusion.

And the comment about everybody talking all the time is partly me making fun of my own writing, since I would think I would write more actiony and explosivey stuff (because I a man of simple tastes), and partly criticism since I think the fic may be dragging in places.

Thanks for the heads up, and for continuing to read along.

[anonymousComrade]

Just a short follow-up to One True Pairing this time around

Addiction is a powerful thing.

One True Pairing: Epilogue

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"K4RKL3S... YOU B1G SOFTY."

Karkat stopped dead in his tracks but didn't turn around to face Terezi.

"YOU SAW THAT, THEN."
"YOU M4D3 H3R H4PPY IN H3R L4ST MOM3NTS."
"DON'T TELL ME THAT WAS A GOOD THING. A GOOD THING WOULD HAVE BEEN PREVENTING IT FROM EVER HAPPENING. A GOOD THING WOULD HAVE BEEN NOT FUCKING THINGS UP ON A MONUMENTAL SCALE AND SENDING OUR STRONGEST GUY TO DIE WHILE HIS MOIRAIL HAD TO JUST FUCKING WATCH BEFORE GETTING HER RIBCAGE SMASHED IN."
"TH3R3S A R34SON YOUR3 OUR L34D3R, K4RK4T."
"I'M NO LEADER. ISN'T THAT FUCKING OBVIOUS NOW? I'M NO LEADER AND I NEVER WAS. THE WHOLE THING WAS A BIG FAT FUCKING FARCE AND YOU CAN'T TELL ME DIFFERENT."
"YOU UNB3L1EV4BL3 1D1OT! STOP B34T1NG YOURS3LF UP OV3R TH1S! NOBODY COULD H4V3 FORS33N THIS!"
"MAYBE NOT, BUT LITERALLY ANYONE ELSE COULD HAVE DONE A BETTER JOB OF HANDLING IT! LOOK AT ALL THIS, TEREZI! SO MANY OF OUR FRIENDS ARE FUCKING DEAD OR GRUBSHIT INSANE!"
"HOW 1S 4NY OF TH1S POSS1BLY YOUR F4ULT?!"
"I COULD HAVE STOPPED ERIDAN WHEN HE MURDERED FEFERI. I COULD HAVE SEEN THE WARNING SIGNS OF GAMZEE SOBERING UP. HELL, IF I'D STOPPED STARING AT THE DOOR LIKE A RETARD FOR FIVE GODDAMNED SECONDS WHEN WE BEAT THE BLACK KING, WE NEVER WOULD HAVE HAD TO RETREAT TO THIS FUCKING SPACE ROCK AT ALL! LITERALLY EVERYTHING THAT'S HAPPENED IS ENTIRELY MY FAULT..."

He held HOMES SMELL YOU LATER to his own throat.

"...AND IT'S TIME I PAID THE PRICE."

Terezi gasped in shock. Was he really planning to...?

"BACK ON ALTERNIA, A LEADER WHOSE TROOPS RESORTED TO THIS KIND OF INFIGHTING WOULD BE CULLED FOR GROSS INCOMPETENCE. I SEE NO REASON WHY THINGS SHOULD BE DIFFERENT HERE."
"K4RK4T, NO!"
"I GUESS THIS MAKES YOU THE LEADER NOW. AS IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN IN THE FIRST PLACE. I'D WISH YOU LUCK BUT THERE'S NO WAY YOU CAN FUCK THINGS UP AS BADLY AS I DID. WHEN SOLLUX WAKES UP, TELL HIM I'M SORRY."

Terezi sensed he was hesitating... was the arm holding his sickle shaking? A voice screamed in her head: "MOV3!!! DONT YOU D4R3 L3T HIM---!!!"

Suddenly, she was moving quicker than ever before, her actions happening as soon as the impulses in her mind could be formed. She could not allow this to happen. Terezi sprinted to where Karkat stood and with all the force she could muster, she buried her forearm between his shoulder blades.

The sickle clattered to the ground. Karkat fell and hit the ground face first. A drop of bright red blood formed from an imperceptible cut; a flesh wound. Terezi dropped to her knees.

"YOU S3LF1SH 4SSHOL3!!! TH1S 1S NO T1M3 TO B3 K1LL1NG YOURS3LF! M4YB3 YOU D1D SCR3W UP... BUT TH4T DO3SN'T M34N YOU C4N JUST G1V3 UP NOW!"
"I GOT US INTO THIS MESS! I DESERVE TO DIE FOR DRAGGING YOU ALL INTO THIS!"

Terezi slapped him in the face with all the force she could summon.

"ITS *B3C4US3* TH1NGS W3NT B4D TH4T YOU H4V3 TO F1GHT H4RD3R TH4N 3V3R NOW, YOU UNB3L1EV4BL3 B4ST4RD! WH4T K1ND OF L34D3R 4B4NDONS H1S TROOPS WH3N TH3 GO1NG G3TS TOUGH?!"
"TE--"
"NO, D4MN1T, YOU L1ST3N TO M3!!! W3R3 4LL W3 H4VE L3FT! 1F YOU D13 NOW TH3N... TH3N..."

Terezi threw her arms around Karkat and cried into his chest, clinging to him for dear life. All at once, Karkat realized what he'd just put her through and, if he hadn't already, felt like the lowest scumbag who ever lived. He knew he didn't deserve her. But sometimes the universe stops being a douche and gives you something it never meant to let you have.

"W3 N33D YOU. *1* N33D YOU. DONT... DONT T4K3 TH4T 4W4Y FROM US."
"...I'M SORRY, TEREZI. YOU DIDN'T NEED TO SEE THIS."

They both sat silently for a brief while before getting up. Karkat picked his sickle back up and put it back in his strife specibus.

Terezi looked at him, tears still in her eyes but at least she was smiling now. "YOU KNOW, N3P3T4 W4S MY FR13ND, TOO. WH4T YOU D1D FOR H3R W4S--"
"SAPPY AS HELL, I KNOW. BUT IT WAS THE ABSOLUTE, BARE-FUCKING-MINIMUM I COULD DO. SHE DESERVED BETTER THAN DEATH AT THE HANDS OF A MADMAN."

A moment passed.

"WELL, I'VE GOT A MAD CLOWN AND A WHITE SCIENCE SHITHEAD TO HUNT DOWN. YOU COMING WITH ME OR NOT?"
"H3H3H3H3, TH3R3S THE K4RK4T I KNOW! TH3R3S 4 R34SON WHY YOUR3 TH3 L34D3R!"
"DAMN STRAIGHT, THERE IS. NOW LET'S GET MOVING!"

Karkat gripped HOMES SMELL YOU LATER as Terezi brandished the Dragon Cane. Maybe the current situation was his fault. But he's the leader.

It's time he started acting like it.

Notes:

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Welp, that was way longer than I intended. Originally it was going to just be Terezi seeing Karkat fulfilling Nepeta's final request (kissing her, if for whatever reason you thought it'd be swell to read the epilogue first) and being all "d'awwww karkat you are so sweet" and then suddenly ZOMG ANGST AND DRAMA AND ATTEMPTED SUICIDE AND TEREZI SWEARING UP A STORM, OUT OF FUCKING NOWHERE. For serious, how did shit get so dark, I swear none of it was planned

Really, this was going to be maybe a paragraph and then the words and ideas just would not stop coming. Is that a good thing? You tell me! Personally I think it's kind of lame and my perpetual fear of going out of character stains it as it does everything I've written here, but I hate everything I write after I finish writing it, if you've been reading my notes at all!

[SkaianRedeemer]

At least I haven't slipped up horribly and left Problem Slick in there.

And yet, I think we'd all read that spinoff.

[Jim Groovester]

Dammit, don't tempt me. I'm already in the middle of something.

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Your name is Problem Slick. You are one of the top problem slicks in the city. Solicitations for your service are numerous in quantity. Compensation, adequate. It is a balmy summer evening. You are feeling particularly hardboiledly murderous tonight.

In case it isn't clear, you are an assassin for hire.

What will you do?

Yes, that could work out quite well.

[Red Pen]

>Problem Slick: have wacky fanfiction adventures.

[chumpofshoosh]

Hi! I'm new here! I spontaneously wrote a short fanfic and felt the need to share it with people, so here I am!

It's about Kanaya as she wakes up as a rainbow drinker! This is just about how I'd imagine it going down. It's a bit sad! Also: I don't know how I feel about the ending, insofar as: there's not really one! But I dunno, I think it kinda works in a weird way?

Anyways, here it is I guess! Enjoy?

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>Wake up.

The last thing you remember is also your first -- the searing pain, the rage and the confusion. After the initial shock, the pain and the rage subside, but the confusion remains. You don't understand at first -- who would? You haven't stopped bleeding -- oh, how you haven't stopped bleeding -- but you've stopped hurting. You certainly don't know why, but stranger things have happened.

>Look around.

You pick up about where you left off, in the same room with a few of the same people. You see two of them leaving, leaving a trail of something. Funny -- you're concerned less with the motives of the people leaving and more with what they've left behind.

>Remember.

It all comes back -- the brilliant beam of hope destroying your race's last chance. You should feel angry, but that's all been spent. You just feel hollow -- a poor choice of words, given the gaping cavity in your torso, but it's appropriate. What can you do? There's nothing left.

>Snap out of it.

Okay, calm down. There's something left -- there's the two you saw leaving, and the rest of them, and there's the kids. And there's you! Against all odds, you're here, alive, breathing, moving, thinking. You've been dealt a new hand! And if the cards aren't exactly a royal flush, well, there's not much left to do but play your cards, isn't there?

>Contact someone.

You find the nearest active computer. You try and contact someone, but you're distracted; someone left a previous conversation open. Looks like you're in a lot more danger than you thought. This isn't good. Perhaps it'd be more efficient if you dealt with this matter face to face

>Leave.

You get up, take a step, and you freeze. All of the pain comes back tenfold. You've never felt anything like this before -- a hunger clawing at your insides with a thousand rusty daggers. The color drains from your vision, and you collapse in agony, screaming.

>Fight it.

But you can't -- you can only endure it, writhing on the ground, crying and shrieking. And as you flail, you notice a streak of color in your vision. Your eyes follow it desperately; it leads back to you. And as your heart races and your body twitches, it clicks.

>Drink.

You get on your hands and knees and begin licking the floor. It tastes awful, bitter and salty. Your heart slows down, but only slightly. You'll need more. You keep going, quickly lapping up every inch of your blood, all the way back to where you woke up. You feel the pain as it leaves your nerves. The color in your vision gradually comes back. You collapse, exhausted and perplexed. This is not how you imagined it would be.

>Leave.

You gather your bearings. Everything's happening so fast, and it's best that you get down to business before another attack sets in, and who knows how long that would take? You get up and get ready to leave, but your eye catches the body.

>Ignore it.

Of course. The idea is offensive for so many reasons, not the least of which is that she was your friend. But on the other hand... she's dead. What does she need with all that blood? And you'd be building up reserves for when the next attack comes, right? You certainly don't want to go through that again any time soon.

>Get closer.

You wander over in a daze -- is this really happening? You can't bear the thought of doing this to your friend's corpse. But you really don't have a choice, and you'll have to do it eventually. You kneel down, staring into her vacant eyes. You feel the tears welling up; this isn't what was supposed to happen. She deserved better than this, not to be killed by her friend, and then desecrated by another.

>Drink.

You close your eyes and plunge your fangs into her neck. It all comes at once, tasting even worse than before. So begins the cycle; you drink as much as you can until you can take no more, you come up for air, and repeat. You hug her and bury your face into her neck, sobbing, apologizing, until the well runs dry. You are overwhelmed; you still can't believe what you just did. How many more times will you have to do it? There's bad hands, and then there's a hand made out of rules cards and jokers. You curl up on the floor, shivering.

[Jim Groovester]

>Problem Slick: have wacky fanfiction adventures.

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You've got a contract on one Sleazybottom Snoozlepants. You have no idea what problem Ruthless Cutthroat has with Mr. Snoozlepants, or why he wants him dead, but it's not your job to care. Maybe he owes him money. Maybe he's curing the world of the offense that is his name. The reason is irrelevant. Your job is to kill him and be discreet about it.

You've got a wall full of weapons of every sort. Some mundane, some exotic. Even some improvised, because you're also a market leader for accidental deaths. It is a point of pride that you sometimes get accused of deaths that are completely accidental, although you're bitterly jealous that fate keeps stealing potential contracts from you.

You take your toenail clippers. To say you have not used this object for its intended purpose would be an understatement.

No, really, quit tempting me. I've got enough to work on already.

[kaoticAntagonist]

Hi! I'm new here! I spontaneously wrote a short fanfic and felt the need to share it with people, so here I am!

It's about Kanaya as she wakes up as a rainbow drinker! This is just about how I'd imagine it going down. It's a bit sad! Also: I don't know how I feel about the ending, insofar as: there's not really one! But I dunno, I think it kinda works in a weird way?

Anyways, here it is I guess! Enjoy?

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>Wake up.

The last thing you remember is also your first -- the searing pain, the rage and the confusion. After the initial shock, the pain and the rage subside, but the confusion remains. You don't understand at first -- who would? You haven't stopped bleeding -- oh, how you haven't stopped bleeding -- but you've stopped hurting. You certainly don't know why, but stranger things have happened.

>Look around.

You pick up about where you left off, in the same room with a few of the same people. You see two of them leaving, leaving a trail of something. Funny -- you're concerned less with the motives of the people leaving and more with what they've left behind.

>Remember.

It all comes back -- the brilliant beam of hope destroying your race's last chance. You should feel angry, but that's all been spent. You just feel hollow -- a poor choice of words, given the gaping cavity in your torso, but it's appropriate. What can you do? There's nothing left.

>Snap out of it.

Okay, calm down. There's something left -- there's the two you saw leaving, and the rest of them, and there's the kids. And there's you! Against all odds, you're here, alive, breathing, moving, thinking. You've been dealt a new hand! And if the cards aren't exactly a royal flush, well, there's not much left to do but play your cards, isn't there?

>Contact someone.

You find the nearest active computer. You try and contact someone, but you're distracted; someone left a previous conversation open. Looks like you're in a lot more danger than you thought. This isn't good. Perhaps it'd be more efficient if you dealt with this matter face to face

>Leave.

You get up, take a step, and you freeze. All of the pain comes back tenfold. You've never felt anything like this before -- a hunger clawing at your insides with a thousand rusty daggers. The color drains from your vision, and you collapse in agony, screaming.

>Fight it.

But you can't -- you can only endure it, writhing on the ground, crying and shrieking. And as you flail, you notice a streak of color in your vision. Your eyes follow it desperately; it leads back to you. And as your heart races and your body twitches, it clicks.

>Drink.

You get on your hands and knees and begin licking the floor. It tastes awful, bitter and salty. Your heart slows down, but only slightly. You'll need more. You keep going, quickly lapping up every inch of your blood, all the way back to where you woke up. You feel the pain as it leaves your nerves. The color in your vision gradually comes back. You collapse, exhausted and perplexed. This is not how you imagined it would be.

>Leave.

You gather your bearings. Everything's happening so fast, and it's best that you get down to business before another attack sets in, and who knows how long that would take? You get up and get ready to leave, but your eye catches the body.

>Ignore it.

Of course. The idea is offensive for so many reasons, not the least of which is that she was your friend. But on the other hand... she's dead. What does she need with all that blood? And you'd be building up reserves for when the next attack comes, right? You certainly don't want to go through that again any time soon.

>Get closer.

You wander over in a daze -- is this really happening? You can't bear the thought of doing this to your friend's corpse. But you really don't have a choice, and you'll have to do it eventually. You kneel down, staring into her vacant eyes. You feel the tears welling up; this isn't what was supposed to happen. She deserved better than this, not to be killed by her friend, and then desecrated by another.

>Drink.

You close your eyes and plunge your fangs into her neck. It all comes at once, tasting even worse than before. So begins the cycle; you drink as much as you can until you can take no more, you come up for air, and repeat. You hug her and bury your face into her neck, sobbing, apologizing, until the well runs dry. You are overwhelmed; you still can't believe what you just did. How many more times will you have to do it? There's bad hands, and then there's a hand made out of rules cards and jokers. You curl up on the floor, shivering.

that was pretty good. you have a nice style.

[linguisticDoctor]

@Kass: Augh, how did I mix those up? Stupid stupid dumb! I really did love them both; Vampnaya was spot-on, and Doc in Vindicatrix almost more so...he gave me chills!

@Septimus: man I don't even know, it just...it keeps happening
BTW, We're All Doomed is really awesome, even though the timeline will probably implode and murder everyone despite their personal development

@Jim: aww yiss more hardboiled Sleuth. I think you got AR down okay; he seems to have been run pretty ragged by his time in exile, the poor Dersite.

@Path: awww! But...but poor Hysterical Dame. This is just going to max the hell out of her Hysteria Meter.

@Red Pen: HOT DAMN IT'S UNHINGED And even though I loved the Egbert rescue, DD and CD were friggin' adorable and you can't help but root for them, especially Droll!

@dA: noooooo KK not you too. ;_;

@Comrade: Have I not mentioned you? And how I love your stuff! Because I do. I am a huge sucker for that purrticular OTP and you write them both nicely. :33

[Hazel]

(fucking Thieves of Light, why don't they ever nerf this bullshit)

I died a little inside. In a good way.

[Path]

Exalted stuff
...

?

Yes, very . I have held off posting my absurd Sburb session stuff with my Exalted characters here because it doesn't really feel like the place for all my OC stuff.

Excerpts from MANSEBOUND, by myself and my bro Bystanderman:

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hide spoiler

==> You are GHOST-BLOODED, which is just as complicated and weird as it sounds. However, in exchange, you get amazing powers, such as CHRONIC ILLNESS, and SUSCEPTIBILITY TO POSSESSION.

... You're not a fan of your blood.

= = =

--paleParamour [PP] began pestering inescapableButterfly [IB]--
PP: look, just
PP: just deploy the motonic-whatever station
PP: it sounds awesome
IB: Sorry, Mercy.
IB: It’s not the right time yet. The Maidens have said it is inauspicious to do so.
PP: ok, i am really not in the mood for prophecy right now

= = =

I've also been working on naming conventions to match the GCAT type, based on the names of the elemental dragons. But then, this is because the session that comes most easily to this idea is a group full of Dragon-Bloods.

= = =

At least I haven't slipped up horribly and left Problem Slick in there.

And yet, I think we'd all read that spinoff.

I make this slip all the time. I'm planning on hanging a lampshade on it in the next short fic.

= = =

@@Path: awww! But...but poor Hysterical Dame. This is just going to max the hell out of her Hysteria Meter.

HD/NB hurt/comfort fic now?

[emesis]

@Rebbe come on here more often :'c
@Path ...I seem to have missed out on your Sleuth/Snowman fic, brb reading that
@Red Pen I read all of Unhinged in one go. Best couple hours I've spent in a while.

& Jim, I love waking up to a brand new installment! But you already knew that derplksjd

[Path]

@Path ...I seem to have missed out on your Sleuth/Snowman fic, brb reading that

Sorry to disappoint. I'm currently working on it. MAYBE TONIGHT