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

[SeptimusMagistos]

Septimus! I love We're All Doomed, but I haven't been able to keep up with it! I'd love to hit the archives, but AO3 only has the first 4 chapters. I know it's annoying to convert to AO3's format. If I find the old links I'll send them to you if you want to sig-link them, but I don't go archive delving very often.

Edit: here's chapter 6 (couldn't find 5):

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http://www.mspaforums.com/showthread...=1#post4630271

Yeah, sorry about that. I honestly thought I would get it archived soon but then later I tended to find myself in the mood to write new chapters rather than html. It's all sig-linked now, hopefully making it easier for people.

[ceruleanTresses]

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@ceruleanTresses: CG: AND THIS IS EVERYBODY ELSE
EB: karkat... is everyone a vampire
CG: NOT EVERYONE DUMPASS NOW C'MON WE'VE GOT A DEMON TO FIGHT
EB: karkat?
CG: WHAT?
EB: Why are you paler than the dead people?
GC: H3H3H3H3 K4RK4T TH3 ROOM 1S SP1NN1NG
EB: ...
CG: ...
EB: hey dave, ever wanted to donate blood?

EDIT: Hey, while we're talking about the plot, I'd like to say that as someone who constantly has to write Kanaya, I find that bandage incredibly reassuring.

Ahahaha yes. That is what should happen. Karkat is the vampire food. It's him.

(Regarding the bandage though--are we sure Feferi didn't put it there? It seems more plausible that she rose while Terezi was in the room, than that Kanaya left the room and then came all the way back. Plus, Feferi is all into the whole aiding the injured and infirm thing. Though I guess it's reassuring either way because it implies that rainbow drinkers maintain at least some of their original personalities.)

[SkaianRedeemer]

@cT: I'm not sure. The trouble with vampires is that vampires are always different (I will not find the TV Tropes link. I will not!) so we'd have to guess after whatever they are to even assume Feferi is also a vampire. Of course, Karkat might have kissed her too but... well, so much in the air.


...it... occurs to me that I do have something I could write for about Nepeta (not "for", I'm not that sentimental about fictional characters). The trouble is that it's not exactly good reading material. I wrote it up in August or so as a script in an attempt to force myself to learn to draw using familiar characters. The gimmick is that everyone would only speak using emoticons and symbols, so there aren't actually any words, just stage directions and descriptions of said symbols. It doesn't really seem like it would be worth the trouble of transferring the script from paper to screen.

[ceruleanTresses]

@cT: I'm not sure. The trouble with vampires is that vampires are always different (I will not find the TV Tropes link. I will not!) so we'd have to guess after whatever they are to even assume Feferi is also a vampire. Of course, Karkat might have kissed her too but... well, so much in the air.

Maybe Kanaya can rez everyone by biting them! And then Karkat would still be the vampire food.
(Also, calling it now that Terezi's eyes are going to be healed due to rainbowdrinkerism. Everyone else from the Cycle o' Revenge had his/her handicap somehow cured.)
Also, the emoticon thing actually sounds pretty badass.

[spaceyPsychologist]

@cT: I'm not sure. The trouble with vampires is that vampires are always different (I will not find the TV Tropes link. I will not!) so we'd have to guess after whatever they are to even assume Feferi is also a vampire. Of course, Karkat might have kissed her too but... well, so much in the air.

Maybe Kanaya can rez everyone by biting them! And then Karkat would still be the vampire food.
(Also, calling it now that Terezi's eyes are going to be healed due to rainbowdrinkerism. Everyone else from the Cycle o' Revenge had his/her handicap somehow cured.)
Also, the emoticon thing actually sounds pretty badass.

That would explain why Terezi hasn't opened her eyes yet. Who bets that if her sight comes back she'll be angry as hell?

[Domoz]

Let's get some fanfic up on this page now. Bluh bluh previous parts in sig.

The Pirate and the Empress
2/??

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The Empress awakens very confused and in no small amount of pain. She attempts to sit up, only to find her hands bound tightly behind her back. So she lies back down and gets still, or tries to anyways; the room is rocking back and forth for some strange reason. So she sits back up, much more carefully this time, so as to minimize the pain caused to her aching head. The room she's in is made out of wood, and seems to curve upwards into the walls as opposed to having a sharp definition. It dawns on the Empress that she's on a ship, and as her short term memory begins filling itself in she decides that it's not only a ship that she's on, but one belonging to pirates.

Up on deck there is a flurry of activity, all sails raised and a nice easterly wind pushes the reclaimed ship out of port nicely. Ahab stands at the wheel; his escape is far from over, just beginning in fact. It's as though every troll who owns a boat is after him. He swears he can even see a few rowboats going after him. There were navy ships among them that he is certain under normal circumstances would have overtaken him, but Dualscar's crew has not only luck on their side, but a head start and nothing weighing them down. No one on the crew would have ever believed they would have been glad to have no cannons, until today.

Ahab looks back towards his fellow pirates swarming about on deck, his eye settles on the tall fellow from the crowd. “Rufio!” he barks, “Get up to the crow's nest, get me a count of our followers”. The brown blood gives a toothy grin and an “Aye, Captain” before grabbing onto the rigging and pulling himself up.

Ahab returns his attention back to the water as a stray cannonball splashes down on the starboard side. Muttering a few choice expletives under his breath, Dualscar calls up another member of his crew, this time he shouts, “Ariel” He doesn't look back as another troll from the crowd, rust red blood and ram's horns steps up behind him.
“Dualscar?”
“Do whatever you can to keep them from firing their cannons”
Neither of them want to hear the order but both of them have been working in this line of business long enough to know when drastic measures have to be taken.
Ariel sighs and utters out a quiet “Aye”

Back below deck, the Empress is having a terrible time fighting off her headache. Every few moments of silence is interrupted by cannon fire. To her it seems as though the trolls firing their cannons realize at the same time she does just how dangerous that plan of action is. She could get hurt, and that would be entirely counterproductive.

In actuality, Ariel had dashed up to the stern of the ship, closed her eyes and held up her hands. Also as though everyone was following her commands, the cannons fell silent. She holds this position while behind her Rufio scampers down from the rigging and drops onto the deck.
“Dualscar, sir?"
“Report?”
“Over a hundred, but only about ten with any sort of chance of keeping up with us, and those belong to the navy”
Ahab scowls.
“Go back up, and don't come back down 'til you can't see a single ship.” Another grin and an “Aye” from the brown blood as he disappears back up the rigging.

Ariel, in the meantime, has dropped her hands, instead putting them to her face to try and stem the blood flowing from her mouth and nose. She stumbles back down to the deck and into another pirate. He's taller than her, though not by much, and has nubs in the place on respectable horns.

He hisses at her, “What the fuck do you think you're doing walking around like a drunkard, we're in serious fucking danger here!”
He realizes his mistake as Ariel glares at him, and the blood seeps through her hands.
She growls back at him, “I'm sorry, Paris, but I've done everything I could. Now if you'll excuse me I'm going to take a nap. Wake me when we all die, would you?”

With that she pulls open the grate on the deck and climbs down into the hold. Ariel walks over to the far wall and collapses before noticing the Empress. With a weak laugh she says, “I can't believe I forgot you were down here, what with all the action.”
The Empress glares at the new arrival and spat at her, “This plan will never work, the navy will catch you, and every single one of you will be tortured to death”

Ariel sighs and waves her hand at the angry royal. “I guess we'll see, won't we? In the meantime could you keep it down? I'm tying to go to sleep.”

A/N

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I THINK I can still roll with what cannon throws out at me. But I've already got this whole story planned out so who knows.
(Jegus Mindfang the Empress totally knows Dualscar what are you even talking about)

Anywaysss. Rufio is Tavros' ancestor IN CASE YOU COULDN'T TELL.
Ariel is Araida's (And also I always imagined them as stronger psionics than Sollux)
and Paris is
Well I guess I will leave that a secret but I think it is pretty obvious.

[Sporkaganza]

Hey, since I decided I should try to read more of the fic around here, I couldn't wait to be a useless piece of shit all evening and I read all these chapters of A Hand in Holding Hands.

Although there were a couple bits I skimmed over, for the most part I read the whole thing. It was pretty awesome so yeah SkaianRedeemer you are an awesome writer and I wish I could even come close to being as cool. And the recaps combine my current shameless fan obsession and my old shameless fan obsession in a way that fills me with boyish glee!

[Red Pen]

Yet another chapter of that fanfic in which Rose becomes Jack's therapist. That didn't stop being a thing I was writing or anything. It's almost over aaaaa!

This story is also on AO3!

Previously, on Unhinged...
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15


Unhinged - part 16

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"You're rather early today, Jack." Rose commented without looking up as the lock clicked and the door to her office swung open.

She continued doing sums on the form in front of her, making little flourishes with her snow-white feather pen while his footsteps walked around the side of the desk. And some small part of her registered that those footsteps sounded wrong, but she barely had time to blink before a hand seized her shoulder and the Draconian Dignitary's voice hissed into her ear.

"Your first mistake..." He shoved her backward, violently, and her chair toppled over and threw her to the floor. "Was assuming you were smarter than me."

Lying winded on her back, the pen still clutched impulsively in her right hand, Rose attempted to prop herself up on her elbows. Draconian's foot planted itself on her shoulder and pushed her almost casually back to the floor. He was standing over her, his breathing slow and deep and forcibly calm, and she caught a glimpse of Droll hovering further away, watching the scene with narrowed eyes.

"Your second mistake wasn't the plan itself; you executed that brilliantly." It wasn't a compliment, exactly, but it was a kind or respect, as if he suddenly saw her as a threat. "No, your second mistake was letting me find out. You got careless, wanted to show off. Made a rookie mistake." He gazed down at her, his expression flat and stoic. "And that's too bad. I see it now; you could have been something great."

Her heart was pounding, her eyes wide. They'd found out. They knew what she was doing. They knew.

"I could still be great," she managed, casting around in her shock for something to hold on to, anything that would curb his anger and keep her alive. "You could teach me, I could-"

"Yes, you're gonna be something great," the Dignitary told her. He leaned over, seized her by the collar of her archagent uniform, and wrenched her to her feet. "You're gonna be the meat shield between me and Jack."


- - - - - - - - - -


She struggled, oh how she struggled. Gone was the quiet dignity that had carried her this far; Rose kicked and bit and fought and screamed as Draconian dragged her by the hair down the dark, gothic purple vaulted hallways of the palace, one hand scrabbling frantically at the slick tile and finding no purchase, the other clutching Dave's pen so tightly that it threatened to cut into her skin.

"Shut her up," the Dignitary ordered, and the Courtyard Droll's crook smacked painfully into her ribcage, voiding her lungs and making her eyes sting with tears.

She was still gasping for breath when they reached the towering doors of the throne room. Draconian's free arm shoved them aside with a kind of mad purposefulness, and the red carpet stretched out before them, leading into the heart of the cavernous room. She was dragged along the carpet a ways and then yanked roughly to her feet, and with a quiet snap the cold metal of Draconian's switchblade was at her throat again, the very same sensation she'd awoken to in her dream room so long ago.

Rose swallowed, fighting back pained and panicked tears, and raised her eyes to look at the throne. "J-jack..."

In the shadow of the massive throne, Jack Noir sat hunched over, his head in his hand, his tentacles splayed out motionlessly across the carpet. His wings drooped to the floor as if he simply didn't have the strength to support them anymore: broken by exhaustion and hunger and constant paranoia.

He raised his head slowly, shakily, and gazed through her with glazed, unseeing eyes. No longer terrifying, or threatening, or impressive. Just tired.

The way she'd always planned it.

She heard Droll whisper something sympathetic from somewhere behind her. "Oh no, Jack..."

"Jack." Draconian echoed him in a cruel, commanding tone, and perhaps Rose was only imagining the hint of something else in his voice, some softer emotion that she couldn't quite place. "Look at me."

"Don'... tell me what..." Jack slurred, and Draconian snapped the command again.

"No. Look at me."

With some effort the Sovereign Slayer did. "Draconian... what...?

A beat.

"What the hell."

Lucidity flickered across Jack's face as his eyes snapped abruptly into focus, and then it was flooded almost immediately by rage. He scrambled to his feet and seized the hilt of the gleaming black sword in his chest. Draconain pulled Rose in closer to him, pressing the back of her head against his diamond-hard chest.

"You so much as move, your majesty," Draconian stated icily, his knife taut against Rose's skin, just short of drawing blood, "And your archagent dies."

There was a tense handful of seconds, and then Jack slowly and deliberately let go of the sword. "You goddamn traitor, Draconian. And you call me petty. Let the kid go."

"No. I won't."

"I said let the kid go."

"And I said I won't. I've got something to say, Jack, and until you sit down and shut up and listen, the kid stays right where she is."

"I'm your king!" For moment Jack looked as though he was going to strike Draconian down then and there, Rose or no Rose, but the other Dersite cut him off calmly.

"No. You're my best friend. And you're an idiot."

That should have angered him, but at last Jack's eyes glazed over again and he collapsed heavily onto his throne, his gazed fixed on Rose. "Don't... hurt her. I need her. I need her."

And it surprised her how the sickening guilt writhed in her chest, how much she wanted to call out to him, no you don't, Jack. You don't know what I've done...

"Tell him, Droll," the Dignitary ordered. "Tell him everything you told me, everything you overheard little miss Lalonde say."

Petrified, she couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from Jack as the Courtyard Droll spoke, and his words rushed past her: the plans she'd made with Dave, her manipulative cries for vengeance, the way she'd played them all against each other like the chess pieces they were, delighted like some cartoon villain in tearing him apart... And Jack stared back at her, his gaunt face blank and disbelieving.

At last the Droll grew silent, but the words hung heavy and silent and stifling in the air around the four of them.

Jack stood.

Rose winced and closed her eyes, feeling Draconian's sharp fingers tighten dangerously on the hilt of the switchblade at her throat. He'd come to the realization, perhaps, that all the evidence in the world wouldn't make Jack sane enough to spare him, and his shield was no longer a shield.

"Jack..."

"Shut up," the Slayer answered in a tired growl, and the feel of cold metal left Rose's skin as he reached forward and jerked Draconian's arm away. "Shut up and let me talk to her."

The air behind her was suddenly vacant, Draconian had reluctantly backed away. Jack's right hand was on her shoulder, and she knew without opening her eyes that his face was inches from her own; she could hear the shallow rhythm of his fatigue-ragged breathing.

"Tell me," he hissed, dangerously, desperately. "Tell me it's not..."

And the thought occurred to her that, as always, she could tell him what he wanted to hear. She was Rose Lalonde, she could think of a hundred different ways to talk herself out of this, and this was Jack, and she hated him, he was trying to kill her friends, he deserved this, all she had to do was open her mouth and say they're lying to you, Jack, of course it's not true, kill them now before they lie to you again...

But...

What am I turning into?

At least he keeps his promises.

She couldn't do it anymore. If not for his sanity, then for her own. It was all she could do to fight back the bitter bile of guilt and shame that rose in her throat, and whisper, "I'm sorry..."

"IT WASN'T HER!"

The shout echoed through the cavernous room, drowning out Rose's whispered apology and reverberating off the dark purple walls. Her eyes flew open and her head whipped around to see Dave Strider standing in the towering, vaulted doorway. He was panting, his fists clenched and his pajamas streaked with sweat, as if in flying here he'd pushed his every faculty to its limit. The Knight glared down the length of the red carpet at the three Dersites through his sunglasses, and with the adrenaline-laced satisfaction that he had their attention, repeated himself.

"It wasn't her. It was me."

He strode into the room, face flat and ironically expressionless, his arms held out from his sides as if taunting them, beckoning them to come after him. "What that little freak overheard us talking about wasn't Rose's plan, it was mine. I was trying to convince her to go through with it; she had nothing to do with any of it. She didn't even want to hear it. If you're looking for somebody to blame, I think you've got the wrong human."

His lips twitched into a faint, smug smile that Rose was sure didn't reach his eyes. "Hey, Jack, 'bout time we met in person. The name's Dave Strider, Knight of Time, leader of the resistance force that's been planning to overthrow you. And... oh yeah. I'm the guy who's been poisoning your food."

The Sovereign Slayer, the Draconian Dignitary, the Courtyard Droll, and Rose Lalonde stared across the room at him, various expressions of dumbfounded surprise on their faces.

Dave proudly flipped them off.

Jack was the first to snap out of it, and he rounded on Draconian with a look of utter menace. "I TOLD YOU TO KILL HIM!!"

"On it," Draconian answered with a short nod, and he dashed across the carpet toward Dave, switchblade in hand. With a shrug and a mocking salute in Rose's direction, the boy leapt into the air and shot off down the hallway beyond, the Dignitary in pursuit.

"Keep her here, I'll deal with her later," Jack muttered, shoving Rose toward Droll, and he too broke into a run and followed them.

For a moment Rose and Droll stood in the empty throne room and looked at each other, not entirely sure of how to react.

"That's... not what I overheard at all," Droll said at last, sounding baffled.

"No, you were right. I was being horribly manipulative."

"Oh."

"I'm going to go see how Dave's faring," she told him conversationally. "Care to stop me?"

Droll blinked at her and reached hurriedly for his crook, but not quite hurriedly enough to stop her from kicking him rather viciously in the shins and darting away.

I have also recently gotten caught up with A Hand In Holding Hands. I can honestly say, I think it's my favorite fic to ever come out of this fandom. (I mean I'm bawling my eyes out at Terezi/Gamzee oh my goodness how did this happen)

[Jim Groovester]

I had a busy Valentine's Day and evidently so did the fanfiction thread.

But I'm back.

The Sapphire of Alternia, Part 10

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Problem Sleuth looks to his side. Crowbar is staring straight ahead at the road. “You gonna tell me what this is about?”

“Not in here.” Crowbar answers.

“What?” Sleuth asks. “Is it Itchy? Do you need to get away from his smell first?”

“Fuck you, Problem Sleuth.” Itchy pipes up.

Crowbar grins at the comment. “No,” He answers. “We need to go someplace first.”

“Where?”

“You’ll see.”

The rest of the ride is spent in silence. Sleuth watches the surroundings as they pass by. The skyscrapers of downtown turn into smaller buildings housing apartments and shops. Then briefly through a warehouse district, and then to factories, refineries, processing plants. The setting sun cast spooky shadows across the area, giving the isolated buildings an almost skeletal appearance. Itchy pulls into the parking lot of a factory and parks the car.

This would be a great place to torture and murder someone.

“Get out.” Crowbar orders. He and Itchy exit.

Problem Sleuth opens his door. Biscuits grabs him by his arm and yanks him out of the car. Eggs grabs hold of his other and the pair drag Sleuth as they follow Crowbar to the factory entrance. He strikes the padlock off with his crowbar and throws open the door. Sleuth is dragged through first, with Itchy and Die following. Crowbar closes the door behind him.

Biscuits and Eggs throw him against the wall on the factory floor. Sleuth straightens his coat and hat. “Now you gonna tell me what this is about?” He asks as Crowbar walks into the loose semicircle around Problem Sleuth.

“I’ve kept you waiting long enough.” Crowbar says as he rests his weapon on his shoulder. “You met Fin and Trace today.”

Was that supposed to be a question? “Yeah.” Sleuth answers. “I hope they didn’t bring bad news back to the mansion.” Sleuth says with a smirk.

Crowbar’s expression goes blank. “That’s the thing.” He says. “Snowman had a few things to say about that. Since Fin and Trace weren’t anywhere nearby, well.” Crowbar trails off with a toss of his head. “She took it out on me.”

Crowbar rushes at Sleuth, catching him off guard. Crowbar pins Sleuth’s neck between the wall and his crowbar, choking him. Sleuth gasps for air. “Snowman’s got a bit of a temper.” Crowbar growls at Sleuth, staring him straight in the eye. “Now imagine she’s got her whip around your neck and a heel in your back, and she’s pushing with her legs and pulling with her arms. It might feel something like this.”

Sleuth tries to turn his head, offering his jugular to be squeezed instead of his trachea. He tries to chuckle but it just comes out as desperate gasps. “Fun and games at the Felt mansion, huh?” He manages to wheeze out.

Crowbar breaks away from Sleuth, taking a step back. Problem Sleuth narrowly blocks a crowbar headed to his head with his forearms. “Funny, Sleuth.”

Sleuth catches his breath.

“So as she’s choking the life out of me,” Crowbar says, tugging at his collar. “She tells me how I’m incompetent, that I should be ashamed for serving her so poorly, that of my many flaws my dismal lack of intelligence is the worst.” Crowbar shakes his head lightly. “So she finally lets up when I’m nearly gone. And then she tells me that the only thing her light counterpart would hire you for is to find one thing and one thing only. Take a guess what it is.”

Problem Sleuth shoves his hands in his coat pockets. “Her collection of priceless books.” He grins.

Crowbar chuckles. “No.” He swings his crowbar at Sleuth’s midsection. The crowbar collides with Sleuth’s pocketed hand. Sleuth grunts, but hides his pain. “So she tells me to find you, to hunt you down, and to do whatever it takes to get you to tell us where the Sapphire of Alternia is!” Crowbar finishes with a shout. "So you can understand why I'm in a bad mood because of you."

Sleuth coolly takes his aching hand and uses it to put a cigarette in his mouth. He shakily lights the cigarette. “I'm sorry for that, Crowbar. But I don’t know where it is.” He blows smoke in Crowbar’s direction.

Crowbar stares at him. “Eggs, Biscuits.” Crowbar points to Sleuth. They grab his arms and pin them against the wall, leaving Sleuth’s midsection undefended.

Crowbar grabs and tosses away Sleuth’s cigarette. “Are you sure you want to do this, Sleuth? This thing has killed before.” He says, patting his crowbar in his hand. “I don’t think you’ll last long.”

“But you’re not gonna kill me. Else how would I tell you where the Sapphire is?” Sleuth says. “I’ll make it easy for the both of us, and repeat what I said. I don’t know where it is.”

Sleuth grunts in pain as the Crowbar hits his abdomen. Despite the pain, it was a light blow. “Where is it, Sleuth?” Crowbar asks.

“I don’t know.” Sleuth says.

Crowbar hits Sleuth in his calf. Crowbar asks again.

Sleuth answers.

Crowbar hits Sleuth in his knee. Crowbar asks again.

Sleuth answers.

Crowbar hits Sleuth in his ribs. Crowbar asks again.

Sleuth answers.

Crowbar hits Sleuth again in his ribs. “You’re going to die here.”

“And I’ll die telling you the truth!” Sleuth shouts. “What makes you think I know where it is?”

“You were at her house!” Crowbar shouts.

“And I didn’t find anything.” Sleuth says. “You amateurs.” Sleuth growls.

Crowbar grips his weapon. “Say that again.”

“Yeah, that’s right. The Felt ain’t nothing but a bunch of amateurs who run around with their time powers making a mess out of everything!” Sleuth shouts. “I swear, if the Midnight Crew-”

Sleuth blacks out for a moment as the crowbar hits his head. Blood flow blocks his vision in one eye. He picks his head up to see blood dripping off the crowbar. “Why don’t you think for a damn second.” Sleuth shouts. “The place was robbed. I didn’t do that.”

Crowbar puts the edge of his weapon on the ground and rests on it. “So you’re finally in a talking mood. Alright, let’s talk.” Crowbar says.

“How about you tell these brutes to lay off.” Sleuth says with an angry glance at Eggs and Biscuits.

“We’re not brutes!” Biscuits says.

“We’re smart!” Eggs says.

“Of course you guys are.” Crowbar says with a sigh. “Be the smart guys you are and let him go for a second.”

“Okay, Crowbar.” Says Eggs. Problem Sleuth falls to the ground. He struggles to stand himself up.

“Let’s start at the beginning, Sleuth.” Crowbar says, sitting on his haunches as Sleuth gets off of all fours. “What did Wealthy Quantifier hire you to look into? If you don’t feel like talking we can always go back to this.” He says as he taps the crowbar on the cement floor.

Sleuth shakily stands himself up. He wobbles but remains standing. “She wanted me to find some stolen property of hers. So she sent me to her house.” Sleuth says.

“She didn’t tell you what you were looking for.” Crowbar asks as he stands up.

“No.”

“What did you find there?”

“Missing valuables. Really valuables.”

“Itchy,” Crowbar says.

“Yep, everything with a three digit price tag was taken, though I may have helped myself to the things with a two digit price tag, if you know-“

“Thanks, Itchy.” Crowbar cuts off. “So what makes you think you’re looking for the Sapphire?”

“She wasn’t wearing it.” Sleuth wobbles. “But she was in her pictures.”

“Itchy,”

“I didn’t look at any damn pictures. I couldn’t get a good look running around the damn place.”

“Why do you think it’s the Sapphire of Alternia?” Sleuth asks.

“That was Snowman. She heard Wealthy Quantifier’s place was robbed and ordered us to start looking for the Sapphire of Alternia.” Crowbar explains.

“Immediately after?” Sleuth asks.

“Immediately after.” Crowbar says.

“The hit on the Midnight Crew?”

“Also Snowman.”

“Well, sounds like I need to talk to her.” Sleuth says. “Can I set up an appointment with you for that?”

“I’m not the Felt’s secretary. And that’s unlikely even in the best of cases.” Crowbar says. He twirls his crowbar in his fingers. “So where is it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Eggs, Biscuits.” Crowbar orders.

The brutes grab him by the arms and pin him up against the wall again.

“You just about killed me and now you’re looking to finish the job. Do you think I’d really lie in a situation like this?” Sleuth asks.

“Honestly, you’re a damn good liar.” Crowbar says, readying his weapon. “One last time. Where is it?”

“Thanks for the flattery, but still,” Sleuth says. “I don’t know.” He repeats.

Sleuth gets a crowbar to the stomach. He barely holds in his lunch. Did he eat lunch at all? Maybe that’s why he held it in.

“So when we found you by Keynote Bank, Wallstreet Keynoter didn’t tell you where to look.” Crowbar says. “I find that pretty difficult to believe.”

“He didn’t know where it is either. I can’t find a necklace if nobody knows where to look.” Sleuth says. “And if he did know, why would he tell me?”

Crowbar ponders that for a moment. “Die,”

“Uhhh, yeah, Crowbar?” Die nervously asks.

“See what he knows.” Crowbar orders.

Die pulls his voodoo doll out of his coat and fishes around for the right pin. Die pulls out a pin with a ring holding three miniature keys at its end. He jams it into the voodoo doll and disappears.

“So this means you believe me?” Sleuth says.

“If you know something, I’m going to kill you for keeping it from me.”

Die pops back.

“So?” Crowbar asks.

“Problem Sleuth, uh, died saying he didn’t know where Wealthy Quantifier’s necklace was.” Die reports.

“So you are telling the truth.” Crowbar says. “Or you died lying.” He touches Sleuth’s chin with his weapon.

Problem Sleuth glares. “And what makes you think you’re going to get anything else out of me?” He says with a smile growing on his lips.

Crowbar turns his chin upward for a moment and narrows his eyes. “You have a point.” Crowbar lowers his weapon. “Eggs, Biscuits, drop him.”

Sleuth slumps to the floor, slipping on the small puddle of blood from his last encounter.

“Quit looking for the Sapphire of Alternia. Leave that to us.” Crowbar says. “We’ll be watching you, so if you even think about looking for it, we’ll know.” Crowbar says. “We’re leaving.” He says to the rest of the Felt.

“Can we play with our timer now?” Eggs asks Crowbar on the way out. “We were good, weren’t we?”

“Yeah, we wanna play with the timer! It’s no fun with only two of us.” Biscuits joins in.

“No, quit asking.” Crowbar says. The Felt exit the factory.

Problem Sleuth: Get up.

You can’t. It hurts too much.

It’s pretty relaxing here, though, kissing the smoothed concrete like you are. It doesn’t taste half bad, what with your blood seasoning the floor.

Problem Sleuth: Get up.

You can’t!

This is too much of a beating for you. You’re probably going to die of internal bleeding anyway, so you might as well get as comfortable as you can in your final moments.

Problem Sleuth: Get up.

You decide to try and get up. You’ll be dead before you let the Felt keep you down.

Although you try not to think about that, since it seems like that could be a pretty likely possibility at this point.

You’re too damned hardboiled to let any mobster’s beating keep you on the floor. Maybe if you tell yourself that enough times it’ll be true.

Problem Sleuth moves his aching arms and starts to push away from the ground. It takes all of his effort to get an inch off the ground. He falls back to the ground. On his second try, he manages to lift himself off enough that he can slide a knee underneath himself.

Problem Sleuth crawls next to the wall and starts pushing himself up along it. Problem Sleuth pushes with his aching legs, and manages to, finally, stand on his feet.

==>

Nothing can keep you down for long.

With an arm covering his stomach and another holding him upright against the wall, Sleuth makes it to the exit, step by painful step. Green and Purple moonlight meet him as he carefully opens the door. He limps out of the factory.

Sleuth limps across the parking lot, the Felt already gone. He stands at the street edge and looks around. Nothing. There isn’t a phone or a cab or anything else in sight. Sure, there are factories, but how is he going to get home using those? He’s not, that’s how.

Sleuth steps down onto the street before inadvertently collapsing into a sitting position on the curb. Sleuth decides to rest for a moment.

It’s odd that Snowman is the one who spurred the Felt into action, although now that Sleuth knows this the sudden aggression from them isn’t all that surprising. If Snowman had her way all the time, or if she bothered to care, the Felt would be leaving a trail of blood across the whole city in pursuit of goals less valuable than the Sapphire of Alternia. She always did believe in striking fast and hard. Sleuth can only wonder what Snowman knows, because he’s never going to get the chance to talk to her. Even if he does, it’s not going to be a situation that favors him.

Sleuth catches sight of two pinpricks of light heading his way. Sleuth begins picking himself up. Maybe he was wrong about the kindness of strangers, and maybe this person driving the car would be willing to give a bloody man in a fedora a lift to more populated areas. It’s not like it would be dangerous for him, what with every major gang keeping tabs on Problem Sleuth.

Sleuth walks a few steps into the road and puts a smile on his face and starts waving. The car stops, blinding Sleuth with the headlights. The car door opens and somebody steps out.

“Somebody looks like they had a rough day.”

Problem Sleuth looks upward and starts laughing. “Transportation Deferrer, do you have any idea how happy I am to see you?”

Transportation Deferrer walks up to him. Sleuth throws an arm over her shoulder. “Oh, I’ll bet you’re happy. But this is a pretty big favor, you know, coming all the way out here. What are you going to do for me?” She says with a teasing tone.

“What are you even doing out here?” Sleuth asks as Deferrer helps him limp to the taxi.

“I got a call from Wallstreet Keynoter, can you believe it? Said I was supposed to pick you up at Keynote Bank. And then I saw them.” Deferrer says with seriousness. “So I, uh, scrammed. Sorry, Sleuth.”

“Wasn’t anything you could do about that.”

“I did follow them, though. In case there was anything left of ya when they were done.” Deferrer says as she opens the back door of the cab.

Sleuth hobbles in. “So you just happened to get a call from the only person I set out to visit today, and you were so concerned about me you followed the Felt out here.”

Deferrer hops in the driver seat. “Crazy, I know! I never even talked to Wallstreet Keynoter before, and then he calls my cab services out of the blue. Seems like a nice guy.” Deferrer says as she buckles herself in and starts driving. “Home, I’m guessing?” Deferrer asks as she looks through the rearview mirror.

Sleuth nods. “I ain’t done for today yet. One more thing I’ve gotta do.”

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This was an annoying chapter to write. Crowbar hit Sleuth with his... crowbar. Crowbar hefted his... crowbar. Crowbar crowbar Crowbar Crowbar crowbar crowbar Crowbar crowbar Crowbar.

Since I left the Felt completely off of the trail of the Sapphire of Alternia the last time we saw them, I had to put them back on it somehow, so Crowbar arrives and fixes his useless underlings' mistakes. I considered having Snowman tracking down Problem Sleuth and it being an incredibly scary experience instead, but the circumstances didn't quite work out. What Crowbar describes Snowman did to him is what would have happened to Problem Sleuth if it was her.

[Aerodactylus]

Let's get some fanfic up on this page now. Bluh bluh previous parts in sig.

The Pirate and the Empress
2/??

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The Empress awakens very confused and in no small amount of pain. She tries to sit up, only to find her hands bound tightly behind her back. So she lays back down and gets still, or tries to anyways, the room is rocking back and forth for some reason. She sits back up, much more carefully this time. The room she's in is made out of wood, and seems to curve upwards into the walls as opposed to a sharp definition. It dawns on the Empress that she's on a ship, and as her short term memory begins filling itself in she decides that it's not only a ship that she's on, but one belonging to pirates.

Up on deck, there is a flurry of activity, all sails raised and a nice easterly wind pushes the reclaimed ship out of port nicely. Ahab stands at the wheel, this is far from over, just beginning in fact. It's as though every troll who owned a boat was after him. He swore he could even see a few rowboats going after him. There navy were ships among them that he was certain under normal circumstances would have overtaken him, but Dualscar's crew had not only luck on their side, but a head start and nothing weighing them down. No one on the crew would have ever believed they would have been glad to have no cannons, until today.

Ahab looks back torwards his fellow pirates swarming about on deck, his eye settles on the tall fellow from the crowd. “Rufio!” he barks, “Get up to the crow's nest, get me a count of our followers”. The brown blood gives a toothy grin and an “Aye, Captain” before grabbing onto the rigging and pulling himself up.

Ahab returns his attention back to the waters as a stray cannonball splashses down on the starboard side. Muttering a few choice expletives under his breath, Dualscar calls up another member of his crew, this time he shouts, “Ariel” He doesn't look back as another troll from the crowd, rust red blood and ram's horns steps up behind him.
“Dualscar?”
“Do whatever you can to keep them from firing their cannons”
Neither of them appreciate the order but they've been working in this line of business long enough to know when drastic measures must be taken.
Ariel sighs and utters out a quiet “Aye”

Back below deck, the Empress was having a terrible time fighting here headache. Every few moments of silence was interrupted by cannon fire. To her it seems as though those firing their cannons realize at the same time she does how dangerous that plan of action is. She could get hurt, and that would be entirely counterproductive.

In actuality, Ariel had dashed up to the stern of the ship, closed her eyes and held up her hands. As if everyone was following her commands, the cannons fell silent. She holds this position while behind her, Rufio scampers down from the rigging and drops onto the deck.
“Dualscar, sir?
“Report?”
“Over a hundred, but only about ten with any sort of chance of keeping up with us, and those belong to the navy”
Ahab scowled, “Go buck up, and don't come back down 'til you can't see a single follower”. Another grin and an “Aye” from the brown blood as he disappeared back up the rigging.

Ariel, in the meantime, had dropped her hands, instead putting them on her face to try and stem the blood flowing from her mouth and nose. She stumbles back down to the deck and into another pirate. He's taller than her, though not by much, and has nubs in the place on respectable horns.

He hisses at her, “What the fuck do you think you're doing walking around like a drunkard, we're in serious fucking danger here!”
He realized his mistake as Ariel glares at him, and the blood seeps through her hands. She growls back at him, “I'm sorry, Paris, but I've done everything I could, now if you'll excuse me I'm going to take a nap. Wake me when we all die, would you?”

With that she pulls open the grate on the deck and climbs down into the hold. Ariel walks over to the far wall and collapses before noticing the Empress. With a weak laugh she says, “I can't believe I forgot you were down here, what with all the action.”
The Empress glares at the new arrival and spat at her, “This plan will never work, the navy will catch you, and every single one of you will be tortured to death”

Ariel cringes and waves her hand at the angry royal. “I guess we'll see, won't we? In the meantime could you keep it down? I'm tying to take a nap”

A/N

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I THINK I can still roll with what cannon throws out at me. But I've already got this whole story planned out so who knows.
(Jegus Mindfang the Empress totally knows Dualscar what are you even talking about)

Anywaysss. Rufio is Tavros' ancestor IN CASE YOU COULDN'T TELL.
Ariel is Araida's (And also I always imagined them as stronger psionics than Sollux)
and Paris is
Well I guess I will leave that a secret but I think it is pretty obvious.

I really like what you've got so far, but I think you could do with a bit of proofreading. You're forgetting to put in punctuation when characters speak (mostly periods, but a couple commas, too). Also, you need to decide if you're writing this in past or present tense, and stick with it. You start in present, then go to past, but there are still sentences that read like they want to be in present.

Also, just a little pet peeve of mine, cannon and canon are two different words. Cannon are those things that shoot. Canon is the accepted truth of a source material. Friendly pointer.

[Megafire]

EDIT: Hey, while we're talking about the plot, I'd like to say that as someone who constantly has to write Kanaya, I find that bandage incredibly reassuring, both to my own ability and the potential progression of the plot.

As an undying fan of Kanaya, I cannot help but agree with you.

Also, yay! Unhinged!

[emesis]

Oh fuck yeah, so glad I didn't go to bed yet now.

Another ace chapter, Jim! I'm sorry it was annoying to write, because it was very enjoyable to read. Also, I want you to know that you've got me so intrigued about Team Sleuth as Prospit soldiers. So many possibilities there and all of them BAD ASS.

Alsoalso, uhh would it be alright if I tried my hand at drawing Transportation Deferrer? ;;;

[Jim Groovester]

@emesis: Oh, go ahead. I haven't given too much thought, and written even less, about what she's supposed to look like. She's got a black carapace. That's about all I've said. The rest is up to yooooooooou............

And yeah, Team Sleuth is badass. I've got a few ideas in my head for that, but they're not important to the Sapphire of Alternia. So if there is any Prospit Soldier action, it will be in side fic.

That's not the name I came up with for PS when he was a soldier but I think I might keep it.

@Red Pen: I've read your fic for a while, so I'll give you some general praise: I like how you make Jack and the rest of the Derse agents sympathetic and even likable characters, and it tears me up to see Rose drive them apart. And then some specific: Yes, they reconciled! But now they're chasing Rose and Dave. Talk about mixed feelings. Great fic, great update.

@SkaianRedeemer: The aHiHH recap was very much needed, thank you. And your drone fic was excellent and frightening. The point you made about making the main character relatable worked out very well.

There's probably a bunch of other stuff I'm missing, but I spent all day catching up on this thread. I know there was some good fics by SeptimusMagistos (Nepeta and shipping) and Sionnan (creepy congoer) that I read, so I'll just say they were excellent and go to bed now.

[Beep]

Yet another chapter of that fanfic in which Rose becomes Jack's therapist. That didn't stop being a thing I was writing or anything. It's almost over aaaaa!

This story is also on AO3!

Previously, on Unhinged...
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15


Unhinged - part 16

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"You're rather early today, Jack." Rose commented without looking up as the lock clicked and the door to her office swung open.

She continued doing sums on the form in front of her, making little flourishes with her snow-white feather pen while his footsteps walked around the side of the desk. And some small part of her registered that those footsteps sounded wrong, but she barely had time to blink before a hand seized her shoulder and the Draconian Dignitary's voice hissed into her ear.

"Your first mistake..." He shoved her backward, violently, and her chair toppled over and threw her to the floor. "Was assuming you were smarter than me."

Lying winded on her back, the pen still clutched impulsively in her right hand, Rose attempted to prop herself up on her elbows. Draconian's foot planted itself on her shoulder and pushed her almost casually back to the floor. He was standing over her, his breathing slow and deep and forcibly calm, and she caught a glimpse of Droll hovering further away, watching the scene with narrowed eyes.

"Your second mistake wasn't the plan itself; you executed that brilliantly." It wasn't a compliment, exactly, but it was a kind or respect, as if he suddenly saw her as a threat. "No, your second mistake was letting me find out. You got careless, wanted to show off. Made a rookie mistake." He gazed down at her, his expression flat and stoic. "And that's too bad. I see it now; you could have been something great."

Her heart was pounding, her eyes wide. They'd found out. They knew what she was doing. They knew.

"I could still be great," she managed, casting around in her shock for something to hold on to, anything that would curb his anger and keep her alive. "You could teach me, I could-"

"Yes, you're gonna be something great," the Dignitary told her. He leaned over, seized her by the collar of her archagent uniform, and wrenched her to her feet. "You're gonna be the meat shield between me and Jack."


- - - - - - - - - -


She struggled, oh how she struggled. Gone was the quiet dignity that had carried her this far; Rose kicked and bit and fought and screamed as Draconian dragged her by the hair down the dark, gothic purple vaulted hallways of the palace, one hand scrabbling frantically at the slick tile and finding no purchase, the other clutching Dave's pen so tightly that it threatened to cut into her skin.

"Shut her up," the Dignitary ordered, and the Courtyard Droll's crook smacked painfully into her ribcage, voiding her lungs and making her eyes sting with tears.

She was still gasping for breath when they reached the towering doors of the throne room. Draconian's free arm shoved them aside with a kind of mad purposefulness, and the red carpet stretched out before them, leading into the heart of the cavernous room. She was dragged along the carpet a ways and then yanked roughly to her feet, and with a quiet snap the cold metal of Draconian's switchblade was at her throat again, the very same sensation she'd awoken to in her dream room so long ago.

Rose swallowed, fighting back pained and panicked tears, and raised her eyes to look at the throne. "J-jack..."

In the shadow of the massive throne, Jack Noir sat hunched over, his head in his hand, his tentacles splayed out motionlessly across the carpet. His wings drooped to the floor as if he simply didn't have the strength to support them anymore: broken by exhaustion and hunger and constant paranoia.

He raised his head slowly, shakily, and gazed through her with glazed, unseeing eyes. No longer terrifying, or threatening, or impressive. Just tired.

The way she'd always planned it.

She heard Droll whisper something sympathetic from somewhere behind her. "Oh no, Jack..."

"Jack." Draconian echoed him in a cruel, commanding tone, and perhaps Rose was only imagining the hint of something else in his voice, some softer emotion that she couldn't quite place. "Look at me."

"Don'... tell me what..." Jack slurred, and Draconian snapped the command again.

"No. Look at me."

With some effort the Sovereign Slayer did. "Draconian... what...?

A beat.

"What the hell."

Lucidity flickered across Jack's face as his eyes snapped abruptly into focus, and then it was flooded almost immediately by rage. He scrambled to his feet and seized the hilt of the gleaming black sword in his chest. Draconain pulled Rose in closer to him, pressing the back of her head against his diamond-hard chest.

"You so much as move, your majesty," Draconian stated icily, his knife taut against Rose's skin, just short of drawing blood, "And your archagent dies."

There was a tense handful of seconds, and then Jack slowly and deliberately let go of the sword. "You goddamn traitor, Draconian. And you call me petty. Let the kid go."

"No. I won't."

"I said let the kid go."

"And I said I won't. I've got something to say, Jack, and until you sit down and shut up and listen, the kid stays right where she is."

"I'm your king!" For moment Jack looked as though he was going to strike Draconian down then and there, Rose or no Rose, but the other Dersite cut him off calmly.

"No. You're my best friend. And you're an idiot."

That should have angered him, but at last Jack's eyes glazed over again and he collapsed heavily onto his throne, his gazed fixed on Rose. "Don't... hurt her. I need her. I need her."

And it surprised her how the sickening guilt writhed in her chest, how much she wanted to call out to him, no you don't, Jack. You don't know what I've done...

"Tell him, Droll," the Dignitary ordered. "Tell him everything you told me, everything you overheard little miss Lalonde say."

Petrified, she couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from Jack as the Courtyard Droll spoke, and his words rushed past her: the plans she'd made with Dave, her manipulative cries for vengeance, the way she'd played them all against each other like the chess pieces they were, delighted like some cartoon villain in tearing him apart... And Jack stared back at her, his gaunt face blank and disbelieving.

At last the Droll grew silent, but the words hung heavy and silent and stifling in the air around the four of them.

Jack stood.

Rose winced and closed her eyes, feeling Draconian's sharp fingers tighten dangerously on the hilt of the switchblade at her throat. He'd come to the realization, perhaps, that all the evidence in the world wouldn't make Jack sane enough to spare him, and his shield was no longer a shield.

"Jack..."

"Shut up," the Slayer answered in a tired growl, and the feel of cold metal left Rose's skin as he reached forward and jerked Draconian's arm away. "Shut up and let me talk to her."

The air behind her was suddenly vacant, Draconian had reluctantly backed away. Jack's right hand was on her shoulder, and she knew without opening her eyes that his face was inches from her own; she could hear the shallow rhythm of his fatigue-ragged breathing.

"Tell me," he hissed, dangerously, desperately. "Tell me it's not..."

And the thought occurred to her that, as always, she could tell him what he wanted to hear. She was Rose Lalonde, she could think of a hundred different ways to talk herself out of this, and this was Jack, and she hated him, he was trying to kill her friends, he deserved this, all she had to do was open her mouth and say they're lying to you, Jack, of course it's not true, kill them now before they lie to you again...

But...

What am I turning into?

At least he keeps his promises.

She couldn't do it anymore. If not for his sanity, then for her own. It was all she could do to fight back the bitter bile of guilt and shame that rose in her throat, and whisper, "I'm sorry..."

"IT WASN'T HER!"

The shout echoed through the cavernous room, drowning out Rose's whispered apology and reverberating off the dark purple walls. Her eyes flew open and her head whipped around to see Dave Strider standing in the towering, vaulted doorway. He was panting, his fists clenched and his pajamas streaked with sweat, as if in flying here he'd pushed his every faculty to its limit. The Knight glared down the length of the red carpet at the three Dersites through his sunglasses, and with the adrenaline-laced satisfaction that he had their attention, repeated himself.

"It wasn't her. It was me."

He strode into the room, face flat and ironically expressionless, his arms held out from his sides as if taunting them, beckoning them to come after him. "What that little freak overheard us talking about wasn't Rose's plan, it was mine. I was trying to convince her to go through with it; she had nothing to do with any of it. She didn't even want to hear it. If you're looking for somebody to blame, I think you've got the wrong human."

His lips twitched into a faint, smug smile that Rose was sure didn't reach his eyes. "Hey, Jack, 'bout time we met in person. The name's Dave Strider, Knight of Time, leader of the resistance force that's been planning to overthrow you. And... oh yeah. I'm the guy who's been poisoning your food."

The Sovereign Slayer, the Draconian Dignitary, the Courtyard Droll, and Rose Lalonde stared across the room at him, various expressions of dumbfounded surprise on their faces.

Dave proudly flipped them off.

Jack was the first to snap out of it, and he rounded on Draconian with a look of utter menace. "I TOLD YOU TO KILL HIM!!"

"On it," Draconian answered with a short nod, and he dashed across the carpet toward Dave, switchblade in hand. With a shrug and a mocking salute in Rose's direction, the boy leapt into the air and shot off down the hallway beyond, the Dignitary in pursuit.

"Keep her here, I'll deal with her later," Jack muttered, shoving Rose toward Droll, and he too broke into a run and followed them.

For a moment Rose and Droll stood in the empty throne room and looked at each other, not entirely sure of how to react.

"That's... not what I overheard at all," Droll said at last, sounding baffled.

"No, you were right. I was being horribly manipulative."

"Oh."

"I'm going to go see how Dave's faring," she told him conversationally. "Care to stop me?"

Droll blinked at her and reached hurriedly for his crook, but not quite hurriedly enough to stop her from kicking him rather viciously in the shins and darting away.

I have also recently gotten caught up with A Hand In Holding Hands. I can honestly say, I think it's my favorite fic to ever come out of this fandom. (I mean I'm bawling my eyes out at Terezi/Gamzee oh my goodness how did this happen)

aaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!

[SkaianRedeemer]

@Domoz: Adding to what Aerodactylus said in terms of the technical, don't be afraid to space your paragraphs properly for dialogue. It looks a little odd as it is right now. Still, I'm enjoying this. There's just something about it.

@Sporkaganza: Thanks for the reading, and always good to see another H*R fan reading it (I appreciate it when someone does get it, and I appreciate when someone gets it in spite of not knowing. It is truly the best of both worlds). If you're looking for more fanfic to catch up on, you might want to start with Unhinged, right down there! Serendipity, I say!

@RedPen: I am so looking forward to catching up on this once there is a sun in the sky again. In the meantime, I'm glad you've caught up to me! I'm surprised at how many people have done that lately, and always appreciate!

@Jim Groovester: Since they're on Alternia, I suppose you could be calling Crowbar's crowbar an angled leverage device? Yeah, I don't know either. That aside, I'd rather see him than Snowman... at this point. Gotta build up, right? Once she does show up, then I'll be worried for Sleuth. Oh yes I will. On the subject of aHiHH, I'm glad the recap helped someone! The first was made on request, so I knew it was needed, but this one I just sort of put up because it was the end of a plot arc and the same number of chapters had passed. And I'm glad the POV worked for you in Suffocation, since that was one of the three things I was shooting for when I wrote it.

@emesis: Oh please do draw her, I'm curious how my impression will match up!

[Path]

@Jim-

...

I am in need of a towel.

...

Another towel.

That being said, this came at a great time as I am in the middle of a fic with Crowbar playing the main villain. So having him nearly beat Problem Sleuth to death was just, erm, a perfect thing to wake up to. >_>

[Isoraqathedh]

Thanks for the complements, no matter how few! Here, let me burn the buffer some more.

(I have all parts of 3 and 4 and 4a written, but I want to keep a buffer of sorts.)

Integration · Troll Chapter 1

Double Index No. 4.13.07$002 // No. 2.98.04$002 -- Integration · Troll rev. 2.0: 2 // On an Asteroid I: Isolation

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Terezi sat on the top of the laboratory, skulking in a manner that can only be described by an inappropriate adverb such as, say, “defensively.” That is mainly because she never sulks. But she’s certainly a lot different than what she was about twenty hours ago.

She’s just sitting there, contemplating the three small bonfires that once laid something purple, something yellow and something blue-white. It’s funny how when they were not bonfires, you can’t see them from here. Now they are more than visible – they’re too visible. It strikes as the loss of a home, or a home away from home.

There are already smaller ones going everywhere. Eridan went absolutely bonkers (what’s new?) and started joining that monstrous Jack Noir that you don’t quite recognize as the one you knew and loved. What happened to him? Most likely killed by this incarnate, you think. What happened to the third person text? Got gobbled up by ad-hoc writing, that’s what happened.

She’s already found her glasses. The portal (2) has been slashed behind her, meaning she’s only got her own two feet and hound-like smell to guide her around.

Then, she gets two messages.

Footnotes:

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(2) I cannot bear to call it the transportalizer because – whoops there go the red lines.

[Wigmund]

Not posting a fic, just a hilarious coincidence that happened.
I was sitting in a boring class yesterday, scrawling out ideas for a series of fics and came up with this:

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Imagine my surprise when I wake up this morning and saw the latest flash.

I think Gunstuck was meant to be.

[kaoticAntagonist]

Four Leaf Clover part 2

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I never did expect a fairy tale life. Not when I was little, and the voices first began echoing in my head, and not now. Sure I had a prince for a while, but... well, happily ever after was not on Vriska's agenda for me. We moved on, though. As on as we could.

Aradia tapped her fingers against the table, occasionally flicking her gaze at the doors. She was expecting someone. Karkat had set it up, and the job was clear. Ah- there he was. A young man entered with an air of royalty. He was expecting her as well, but only in appearance. She never used her real name or personality for things like this. Marjorie, Ruth, Lois, Evelyn, Gladys-

“You must be Viola,” he said. He certainly had a charming smile. The voices said otherwise. He must have approached when she was lost in thought.

“Yes, thats right,” Aradia smiled back.

He sat. She didn't catch his name, because it didn't matter. In the end he'd just be another voice. They didn't have names, and if they did she didn't use them. She didn't want to think anyone she once knew was there.

He talked a lot, too. She hardly had to pay attention, because she never got a chance to talk. And that was okay. It made things easier. He ordered drinks, but she didn't touch hers. And in a most inconspicuous gesture, the poison fell into the glass. She offered him her drink, saying that she actually wasn't fond of it. He didn't mind- more for him. More time passed, and he got tired.

“Too much to drink,” he said.

“You should head home then.” Aradia offered kindly.

He said no. He was tired, too tired to move.

“Poor baby,” Aradia cooed, slipping her hand over his. He didn't notice the ring was gone when she moved it away. “You just sleep now.”

As he flopped onto the table, she shuddered. She wasn't comfortable with it yet. But it had to be done. Clutching the ring, she walked away, back to the doors. She was aware that someone was watching her the entire time. The voices told her, as well. So she looked over at where she had seen Diamonds Droog, and met his eyes with a glare.

Cheeky little thing, he thought. She's as good as caught though. His own job was simple enough. Keep a look out for suspicious people. And committing murder in public was pretty suspicious. Now he had to just bring her to the base. Torture her for the names of her partners. With any luck, it'd be that group causing trouble. He smiled. Punishing her for her impudence would be fun, once they got the information they wanted. He could feel the cue stick in his hands already.

The girl walked up the stairs, keeping her cool and slipping the ring onto her finger to keep it safe. With every step she took, Droog followed. As she opened the door, with him 10 steps behind her, she made her way to the street. He drew his gun, in case she was the type to run. But instead, she turned around, arms crossed.

“Can I help you, sir?” she asked.

It was stupid. Banter, stalling for time, all of it. And Vriska's car wasn't there yet. So what does she do? Engage in a conversation with someone who likely wanted her dead. Stupid. And the voices were telling her so, too. All at once. It was awful. But she kept her face blank, and she didn't let a single hint that she was troubled slip by.

“Yes, actually. Could you come with me? My... friends and I would like a word with you at our base.” Droog said with a thin smile.

“That sounds like something my doctor wouldn't approve of. How about some other time?” Aradia asks. She can hear the car.

“Hahahaha no.” He reaches out to grab her wrist, but she jerks away, nearly falling into the road. Vriska pulls up and drags Aradia into the car before Droog can make a move. Before Droog can fully comprehend whats happening, the car is gone. The last thing he saw was a mock salute from Aradia.

She got away. Left in his rage, Droog stood alone in the streets.

Once Vriska and Aradia were far enough, Aradia scootched off of Vriska's uncomfortable lap and sighed. “We're naming the car Deus Ex Machina.” she announces.

Vriska laughed. “Thats fiiiiiiiine by me,” she said.

Closing her eyes, Aradia listened to Vriska's chatter about traffic and her own job, which involved a jewelry store and framing someone, and to her own thoughts. Droog knew what she looked like. Droog saw Vriska's very unique horns. He had identifying marks on both of them. Karkat would not be happy to hear this.

No, there is no fairy tales. Especially not for trolls.

Notes!

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-I like this much better than I do the first chapter.
-Yes I am aware that was a cop out. Or at least, I feel like it was. But honestly, I think it'd happen. Sides, I dont think we need to read about Aradia being bloodied up.
-Is it just me or is this short?
-Droog's attitude is provided by a roleplay buddy who plays Kanaya mostly, much like I normally play Aradia.
-Deus Ex Machina is the worst name for a car ever.

this story is awesome. i love gang fics

[CandyLemon]

I am in the middle of a fic with Crowbar playing the main villain. So having him nearly beat Problem Sleuth to death was just, erm, a perfect thing to wake up to. >_>

I'm now starting to ship Crowbar/Sleuth/Slick. That is what this place has done to me

Oh yeah, Jim, that was great as usual

[Sionnan]

Something not update related, not Strider fic, and no trolls. Weird!

I wrote this after I'd been glancing over the early pages of Homestuck again, and saw that John was into creepy paranormal lore. Naturally, a kid his age would totally be all over creepypasta.com

Which led to unfortunate associations.

Just be careful out there...

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>Many classic horror icons, such as Geger’s Xenomorphs, Silent Hill’s Pyramid Head, and other disturbing creatures, share common characteristics. Pale skin, dark, sunken eyes, elongated faces, sharp teeth, and the like. These images inspire horror and revulsion in many, and with good reason. The characteristics shared by these faces are imprinted in the human mind.

Many things frighten humans instinctively. The fear is natural, and does not need to be reinforced in order to terrify. The fears are species-wide, stemming from dark times in the past when lightning could mean the burning of your tree home, thunder could be the approaching gallops of a stampede, predators could hide in darkness, and heights could make poor footing lethal.

The question you have to ask yourself is this:

What happened, deep in the hidden eras before history began, that could effect the entire human race so evenly as to give the entire species a deep, instinctual, and lasting fear of pale beings with dark, sunken eyes, razor sharp teeth, and elongated faces?

… Just be careful out there.<


The first time John read the tiny little story, he must have stared at the page for a good twenty minutes.

Okay, so that was creepy.

Okay, so more than a little creepy.

As Dave would put it, maybe it was more like uncanny weird.

Oh fuck it, it was just totally fucking petrifying, is what it was.

He liked creepy pasta. Some of them weren't too great, but that was why it was fun to read and laugh at them, and other times they were maybe a little too good (never, ever again smiledog. Never, do you hear me?!), and sometimes they were just....

Entirely unnerving.

See, he'd dreamt of these things for a long time time.

Glimpses of sharp teeth, like bright sparks in the murky dark, slid through his dreams. Flashes of gray skin, another texture and tone from an otherwise normal shadow in the corner of a room. A sheen of jaundiced yellow couched in deep sockets. Whispers, screeches, claws that rip through still air.

Oh yes, John knew these creatures very well. He had no idea what to call them; Dad just called them night hags or something, but John thought that was stupid, because he knew what night hags were supposed to be, and those fucking things definitely were not it. Dave once referred to them as trolls (actually, what he had said was, "oh man those fuckin things still trollin your life"), and for whatever reason, that had struck John as eerily appropriate. Though he didn't tell Dave that, because he was trying to keep the chat short, because it was like three in the morning, and he had the feeling that even though it was around 1:00 where Dave was, neither of them were supposed to be up that late.

Rose had only hummed (how the hell can you hum in a text based conversation anyway? Rose still managed to do it, and still managed to sound pretentious), and said something about Freud or Jung, and that John was simply evoking the collective unconscious of the human race. Whatever that meant. He really didn't quite care, because it brought an uncomfortable thought to mind; but really, it felt more like a memory. And that really freaked him out.

And Jade just laughed it off and sent him s. Which he didn't mind so much, but he felt a little hurt that he was being discounted so quickly. Jade would assure him she wasn't doing that, but it would all make sense in the end, he'll see! John returned that he in no way wanted to see whatever sense those things were supposed to make. Like, ever.

But every once in a while, he'd navigate back to the page, and read the story again, drawn to it irresistably.

And remember thin, fanged faces with amber eyes and gray skin.

And think.

[Graven_Image]

4x4

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turntechGodhead joined the memo

TG: ok
TG: john
TG: this is probably the worst slash best idea youve ever had
EB: uhhh.
EB: any particular reason?
TG: worst because of the derp squad
TG: best because of the new jade
TG: i really like the new jade

guardrailGrinder joined the memo

GG: aaaw!
GG: thats so sweet :D
TG: oh shoot you weren't supposed to read this
GT: Heh.
GT: Oh man, Dave. Sooo smoooth.
TG: ok shut up new john
TG: you are also the reason this is the worst plan ever

tentacleTherapist joined the memo

TT: Oh, I don't know about that.
TT: I happen to like this John quite well.
GG: yeah and thats my john youre bashing on so watch it, MISTER.
GG: jk, i love all of you guys

turntableTinkerer joined the memo

TT: And we love you too.
TT: Speaking of love, anyone want to come down here and help a sister out?
TT: I'm up to my neck in imps here.
TG: sorry man
TG: land of rain and clockwork no thanks
GG: the gears get all rusty and they end up making a huge noisy racket! DX
TG: its like my eardrums are being violated by a cardboard tube covered in sandpaper
TT: Ok, jegus.
TT: If you didn't want to, you could have just said no.

tentativeThaumaturge joined the memo

TT: If it's quite alright with everyone else, I'll go.
TT: Other me deserves a bit better that flatout rejection from everyone she shares a vague transdimensional relation with.
TT: Thanks.
TT: I guess.
GT: I suppose I'll go, too!
TG: why
TG: cmon dude you have nothing to do with her
GT: Yes, I do.
GT: Me and red Rose are dating, remember?
TG: uhh
GG: ohgodwhat D:
TT: Well, now that's out of the bag, I can breath a little less easy.
TT: Thanks, purplejohn. How would I live without you.
GT: I'd like to know. ;D
GT: Hokay, now that the references are out of the way...

geniusTinkerer joined the memo

GT: Oh no....
GT: Hey guys!!!
TG: speaking of the derp squad

gardenGnostic joined the memo

GG: whoa! there are more of you guys!!
GG: i thought green John was the only one!
TT: No, there are pretty much a million of us jackholes running around.
GG: and a million of you guys, apparently. :/
EB: wait, I don't get it.
EB: what's so bad about the green us-es?
TT: Wait for it.

turnaboutGadabout joined the memo

TG: hey guise did i miss anythign
TG: looks theres a...
TG: CELEBATOIN in this house
TT: That's what.
TT: I wasn't aware Pesterchum had a font selection function.
TG: nothings impossibe if you...
TG: BELEIVE in yourslef and in mircales
TG: thats what being KNIHGHT of SPACES is all abuot
GT: oh god don't tell me he's been talking to gamzee.
GT: pleeeaase.
TT: No, he's always been like that.
TT: I think it's that Insane Posse band he listens to all the time.
TT: Not Gamzee, but an incredible simulation.
TT: Fantastic.
TT: I'd just like to state for the record that I find rap music in all of its forms to be highly offensive.
TT: Sorry, red Jade.
GG: nah its alright
GG: i prefer hip hop
TG: you know what this conversation is about
TG: not that particular topic
TT: I think this conversation stopped masquerading as being about topics a while ago.
GT: I think i'm done.
GT: Say hi to Mom for me.
TT: Will do.

ghostlyTransfixation left the memo

TG: man somethigns HARSHING his MELLOW
TG: he mihgt need some of my...
TG: MARIJUANA
GT: uhh
GT: what?
GG: D:
TG: hehe wow
TG: green me grows weed
TG: this is so blindingly obvious in hindsight i dont know why i didnt suspect it sooner
GT: well, i take it back!
GT: he hasn't been TALKING to gamzee.
GT: he IS gamzee!
TG: pretty much

turnaboutGadabout is now an idle chum!

TT: And now comes the hours-long wake up sequence.
TT: Trust me, I've seen it before.
TT: Was he always a stoner?
TT: Yes.
TT: Pretty much the only one who didn't know was his Grandpa, and even then he wondered why the tomato plants looked weird.
TT: The only person in our little band of peers who didn't know was purple John.
TT: Wow, that sounds weird to say.

torturousGrit joined the memo

TG: I would like to point out that my doppelganger's mannerisms should not in any way reflect on your perception of me.
TT: No one's doing that, Dave.
TG: Well, I should hope not, since I am a virtual paragon of decency in this dimensional get-together of alternate versions of the same four hooligans.
TG: wow
TG: you are such a tool
TG: Come on, man, I'm the Knight of Light. I have to talk like this.
EB: you're dave.
EB: i don't think anyone's going to look at you weird for doing anything out of the ordinary!
EB: you can file it under irony.
TG: Irony? Do I look like a hipster to you?
TG: youre stepping on some toes here me
TG: What of it? You want to make something out of it?
TG: booyeah toolme come on
TG: ill meet you down at lohal in fifteen minutes
TG: J'accuse!
TG: A duel it is.

torturedGrit left the memo

turntechGodhead left the memo

EB: uuugh
EB: is purple dave always like that?
GT: always.
GT: he's kind of an insufferable jerk but i don't hold it against him.
GT: he doesn't really appreciate the stuff his mom did for him.
TT: Shock and horror.
TT: None of us do.
GG: man this is sorta painful to watch
GG: but also pretty hilarious so thats ok
TT: I always wondered how bro would've raised another one of us different.
TT: Now I'm not so sure I really want to know.
TT: Red Dave seems like a jerk.
EB: nah, you get used to it.
TT: I believe it's his way of releasing the tension he gets at home.
TT: His version of Bro is unnaturally obsessed with puppets.
GG: oh god lil cal
GG: DX
TT: "His version" nothing.
TT: Bro was always like that.

goldenGreenthumb joined the memo

GG: hey guys!
GG: you'll never believe where I am!
EB: is it an asteroid?
GG: ummm...
GG: yes!
GG: how did you know?
EB: keep going, you're in the right place.
GG: mkay!
GG: wait an asteroid what
GG: which asteroid is this
EB: the one with the ectobiology equipment that made us all.
EB: you know, no biggie.
GT: o.O
GT: oh man, i forgot about that!
GT: that was so weird...
TT: You wouldn't happen to be asleep now, perchance?
GT: hehehehe
GT: maaaayybeeee...
TT: Ugh.
TT: And it's going to keep being like this.
TT: Enjoy it, me.
TT: Enjoy or you'll go crazy.

A/N

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So, I realized that *gasp* there was no room to shoehorn in every single variation of every single kid. So here are the last four that we didn't get to see in this fic.

Blue Dave – tripupGumshoe (obsessed with Problem Sleuth)
Green Rose – tipsyTambourinist (musician, but with a bit of an alchohol problem :X)
Purple Jade – glorifiedGrayhead (wise beyond her years, but a bit cynical)
Red John – gearheadTrailblazer (loves him some monster trucks)

[billybobfred]

This is a terrible idea, but when someone in the house likes "Girlfriend" enough that you hear it twice in ten minutes, you start to write pesterlogs in your head, and, well, why should I suffer alone?

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-- heyYou [HY] began pestering motherfuckinPrincess [MP] --

HY: okay
HY: listen up
HY: while your attempts at sabotaging my matespritship are juvenile
HY: and will obviously never work
HY: (seriously
HY: what are you thinking?
HY: "herp derp
HY: if i torture her enough
HY: he will see that she is horrible
HY: and come running into my arms"
HY: your logic does not resemble our earth logic)
HY: i'd appreciate it if you stop
HY: because it's annoying
HY: though
HY: if your feelings are bubbling a blacker color
HY: well
HY: you're doing it wrong
HY: you're supposed to go after me directly
HY: not through the other quadrants
MP: what
HY: then again
HY: if it's HER you're waxing obsidian for
MP: oh my god
HY: while that is kinda hot
HY: i don't think she reciprocates
HY: though
MP: i can not believe you are typing this shit
HY: it's possible
HY: that she's just oblivious
HY: in which case
HY: i'd gladly inform her
MP: i thought you knew that webcomics are for nerds.
HY: don't change the subject
MP: you know what? forget it.
MP: remember when i said you could do better?
MP: i was mistaken
MP: you deserve her
HY: thank you
HY: i worry sometimes
MP: UGH

-- motherfuckinPrincess [MP] ceased pestering heyYou [HY] --

HY: i doubt that

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Oh gog. I could tolerate that song by believing her statement that it was parody and/or satire. But watching the video makes it plainly obvious that it's completely sincere, and... ugh. Not cool, Avril. Not cool.

[Aerodactylus]

@Graven: This is awesome. I particularly enjoyed Red Rose and Green Dave. Fucking stoners. They are hilarious.

@billybobfred: I actually kind of like that song on occasion. I keep Avril around for my occasional "I need shitty music" moods. It's my one concession to irony.

[kaoticAntagonist]

4x4

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turntechGodhead joined the memo

TG: ok
TG: john
TG: this is probably the worst slash best idea youve ever had
EB: uhhh.
EB: any particular reason?
TG: worst because of the derp squad
TG: best because of the new jade
TG: i really like the new jade

guardrailGrinder joined the memo

GG: aaaw!
GG: thats so sweet
TG: oh shoot you weren't supposed to read this
GT: Heh.
GT: Oh man, Dave. Sooo smoooth.
TG: ok shut up new john
TG: you are also the reason this is the worst plan ever

tentacleTherapist joined the memo

TT: Oh, I don't know about that.
TT: I happen to like this John quite well.
GG: yeah and thats my john youre bashing on so watch it, MISTER.
GG: jk, i love all of you guys

turntableTinkerer joined the memo

TT: And we love you too.
TT: Speaking of love, anyone want to come down here and help a sister out?
TT: I'm up to my neck in imps here.
TG: sorry man
TG: land of rain and clockwork no thanks
GG: the gears get all rusty and they end up making a huge noisy racket! DX
TG: its like my eardrums are being violated by a cardboard tube covered in sandpaper
TT: Ok, jegus.
TT: If you didn't want to, you could have just said no.

tentativeThaumaturge joined the memo

TT: If it's quite alright with everyone else, I'll go.
TT: Other me deserves a bit better that flatout rejection from everyone she shares a vague transdimensional relation with.
TT: Thanks.
TT: I guess.
GT: I suppose I'll go, too!
TG: why
TG: cmon dude you have nothing to do with her
GT: Yes, I do.
GT: Me and red Rose are dating, remember?
TG: uhh
GG: ohgodwhat
TT: Well, now that's out of the bag, I can breath a little less easy.
TT: Thanks, purplejohn. How would I live without you.
GT: I'd like to know. ;D
GT: Hokay, now that the references are out of the way...

geniusTinkerer joined the memo

GT: Oh no....
GT: Hey guys!!!
TG: speaking of the derp squad

gardenGnostic joined the memo

GG: whoa! there are more of you guys!!
GG: i thought green John was the only one!
TT: No, there are pretty much a million of us jackholes running around.
GG: and a million of you guys, apparently. :/
EB: wait, I don't get it.
EB: what's so bad about the green us-es?
TT: Wait for it.

turnaboutGadabout joined the memo

TG: hey guise did i miss anythign
TG: looks theres a...
TG: CELEBATOIN in this house
TT: That's what.
TT: I wasn't aware Pesterchum had a font selection function.
TG: nothings impossibe if you...
TG: BELEIVE in yourslef and in mircales
TG: thats what being KNIHGHT of SPACES is all abuot
GT: oh god don't tell me he's been talking to gamzee.
GT: pleeeaase.
TT: No, he's always been like that.
TT: I think it's that Insane Posse band he listens to all the time.
TT: Not Gamzee, but an incredible simulation.
TT: Fantastic.
TT: I'd just like to state for the record that I find rap music in all of its forms to be highly offensive.
TT: Sorry, red Jade.
GG: nah its alright
GG: i prefer hip hop
TG: you know what this conversation is about
TG: not that particular topic
TT: I think this conversation stopped masquerading as being about topics a while ago.
GT: I think i'm done.
GT: Say hi to Mom for me.
TT: Will do.

ghostlyTransfixation left the memo

TG: man somethigns HARSHING his MELLOW
TG: he mihgt need some of my...
TG: MARIJUANA
GT: uhh
GT: what?
GG:
TG: hehe wow
TG: green me grows weed
TG: this is so blindingly obvious in hindsight i dont know why i didnt suspect it sooner
GT: well, i take it back!
GT: he hasn't been TALKING to gamzee.
GT: he IS gamzee!
TG: pretty much

turnaboutGadabout is now an idle chum!

TT: And now comes the hours-long wake up sequence.
TT: Trust me, I've seen it before.
TT: Was he always a stoner?
TT: Yes.
TT: Pretty much the only one who didn't know was his Grandpa, and even then he wondered why the tomato plants looked weird.
TT: The only person in our little band of peers who didn't know was purple John.
TT: Wow, that sounds weird to say.

torturousGrit joined the memo

TG: I would like to point out that my doppelganger's mannerisms should not in any way reflect on your perception of me.
TT: No one's doing that, Dave.
TG: Well, I should hope not, since I am a virtual paragon of decency in this dimensional get-together of alternate versions of the same four hooligans.
TG: wow
TG: you are such a tool
TG: Come on, man, I'm the Knight of Light. I have to talk like this.
EB: you're dave.
EB: i don't think anyone's going to look at you weird for doing anything out of the ordinary!
EB: you can file it under irony.
TG: Irony? Do I look like a hipster to you?
TG: youre stepping on some toes here me
TG: What of it? You want to make something out of it?
TG: booyeah toolme come on
TG: ill meet you down at lohal in fifteen minutes
TG: J'accuse!
TG: A duel it is.

torturedGrit left the memo

turntechGodhead left the memo

EB: uuugh
EB: is purple dave always like that?
GT: always.
GT: he's kind of an insufferable jerk but i don't hold it against him.
GT: he doesn't really appreciate the stuff his mom did for him.
TT: Shock and horror.
TT: None of us do.
GG: man this is sorta painful to watch
GG: but also pretty hilarious so thats ok
TT: I always wondered how bro would've raised another one of us different.
TT: Now I'm not so sure I really want to know.
TT: Red Dave seems like a jerk.
EB: nah, you get used to it.
TT: I believe it's his way of releasing the tension he gets at home.
TT: His version of Bro is unnaturally obsessed with puppets.
GG: oh god lil cal
GG: DX
TT: "His version" nothing.
TT: Bro was always like that.

goldenGreenthumb joined the memo

GG: hey guys!
GG: you'll never believe where I am!
EB: is it an asteroid?
GG: ummm...
GG: yes!
GG: how did you know?
EB: keep going, you're in the right place.
GG: mkay!
GG: wait an asteroid what
GG: which asteroid is this
EB: the one with the ectobiology equipment that made us all.
EB: you know, no biggie.
GT: o.O
GT: oh man, i forgot about that!
GT: that was so weird...
TT: You wouldn't happen to be asleep now, perchance?
GT: hehehehe
GT: maaaayybeeee...
TT: Ugh.
TT: And it's going to keep being like this.
TT: Enjoy it, me.
TT: Enjoy or you'll go crazy.

A/N

show spoiler

hide spoiler

So, I realized that *gasp* there was no room to shoehorn in every single variation of every single kid. So here are the last four that we didn't get to see in this fic.

Blue Dave – tripupGumshoe (obsessed with Problem Sleuth)
Green Rose – tipsyTambourinist (musician, but with a bit of an alchohol problem :X)
Purple Jade – glorifiedGrayhead (wise beyond her years, but a bit cynical)
Red John – gearheadTrailblazer (loves him some monster trucks)

this is very funny and i would love if you made more.