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

[Path]

This page is full of great crossover fic.

The previous page, actually! :P

For a few minutes, it was appearing as 24th from the top of the last page, so for that time, my statement was correct! Now of course it's righted itself and I feel dumb.

[Sporkaganza]

This page is full of great crossover fic.

The previous page, actually! :P

For a few minutes, it was appearing as 24th from the top of the last page, so for that time, my statement was correct! Now of course it's righted itself and I feel dumb.

Yep

BTW, I wonder if anyone can guess what stupid shit Haruhi put into the kernel. You'll find out soon enough, but I'm interested in hearing some ideas.

[Doodled]

Spork, I just love this crossover. This page is full of great crossover fic.

The previous page, actually! :P

But thank you! I'm actually surprised at how well this is going. If I can just get out a chapter every day, I might actually finish this thing.

And to think that I thought he was talking about my fic...

Oh wait...

Nobody likes my fics... What the hell was I even thinking?!



[/nosarcasm]

[apocalypticCritic]

Spork, I just love this crossover. This page is full of great crossover fic.

The previous page, actually! :P

But thank you! I'm actually surprised at how well this is going. If I can just get out a chapter every day, I might actually finish this thing.

And to think that I thought he was talking about my fic...

Oh wait...

Nobody likes my fics... What the hell was I even thinking?!



[/nosarcasm]

Don't you dare get down on yourself. Doomed Trolls is one of the few series I actually take the time to read. And I do not waste my wasted time, I'll have you know. It's awesome.

[Doodled]

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Spork, I just love this crossover. This page is full of great crossover fic.

The previous page, actually! :P

But thank you! I'm actually surprised at how well this is going. If I can just get out a chapter every day, I might actually finish this thing.

And to think that I thought he was talking about my fic...

Oh wait...

Nobody likes my fics... What the hell was I even thinking?!



[/nosarcasm]

Don't you dare get down on yourself. Doomed Trolls is one of the few series I actually take the time to read. And I do not waste my wasted time, I'll have you know. It's awesome.

Thanks...

I guess...

Sorry. I'm kinda feeling down in general right now. But whatever.

*bro-hug*

Also, Kerensky, Path...

DAY-UM GOOD!

[Red Pen]

Chapter 12: The Hunt

show spoiler

hide spoiler

CG: ALL RIGHT, PEOPLE, LIKE IT OR NOT WE ARE DOING THIS.
GC: 4R3 W3
CG: NO.
CG: SHUT THE HELL UP WITH THAT. WE DO NOT HAVE TIME FOR MEMES HERE. WE ARE ON A TIGHT SCHEDULE.
CG: THIS IS SERIOUS, PEOPLE. IF WE MAKE ONE WRONG MOVE, WE MAY END UP DEAD.
CG: PROBABLY WILL ANYWAY, BUT WHAT THE HELL.
CG: THERE ARE WORSE REASONS TO GO.
AG: Now why can’t everyone have that attitude to life?
CG: AND THERE IS NO FREAKING TIME FOR THAT EITHER.
CG: NO TIME TO SOUND OFF IDEAS OR CONTEMPLATE FUCKING PHILOSOPHICAL PERSPECTIVES OR HAVE FRIENDLY SHOUT-OUTS.
CG: IF ANYONE HAS CONCRETE COMMENTS ABOUT STRATEGY, THEY CAN SPEAK UP.
CG: EVERYONE ELSE CAN JUST SHUT UP AND MAKE SURE YOUR WEAPONS ARE WORKING.
CT: D --> E%cuse me
CG: YES, WHAT IS IT? DO YOU HAVE A REAL QUESTION?
CT: D --> Well, yes, as a matter of fa%
CT: D --> I am concerned about the disposition of the roboti%
CT: D --> They were designed to act in tandem
CT: D --> Not to be sent to fan out
CG: LOOK, I KEEP TELLING YOU, IT’S MORE IMPORTANT TO ME THAT WE FIND GAMZEE QUICKLY THAN THAT WE HAVE SOME ROBOTS TO MOB HIM.
CT: D --> if I had been allowed to keep working we w001d not have had to choose
AA: equius that was never an 0pti0n.
CG: AS MUCHT AS I HATE GETTING INTO YOUR LOVEY DOVEY ROMANCE SHE’S BASICALLY RIGHT.
CG: HAVING YOU AWAKE AND ALERT IS EVEN MORE IMPORTANT FROM A STRATEGIC PERSPECTIVE.
CT: D --> Very well
CT: D --> I suppose you are correct
AT: uHHH, kARKAT,
CG: CRAP. I DON’T LIKE YOUR TONE OF VOICE.
AT: i TRIED SPEAKING TO THE CREATURES IN THE LABS,
AT: tO GET THEM TO HELP US FIGHT GAMZEE,
AT: bUT THEY REALLY, rEALLY REFUSE TO,
AT: aND I DON’T THINK I CAN KEEP THEM UNDER CONTROL VERY LONG,
CG: YEAH, THAT FUCKING FIGURES.
CG: I DON’T REALLY WANT TO FIGHT HIM EITHER.
CG: SO - NO ROBOTS AND NO MONSTERS OTHER THAN THE DERPY LITTLE ONES FROM GIRLS’ GAMES, BUT WE STILL OUTNUMBER HIM ELEVEN TO ONE.
CG: ALL RIGHT. ARADIA, GET YOUR TIME FREEZE READY. VRISKA, PUT ON YOUR STUPID OUTFIT. ERIDAN, MAKE SURE YOUR WAND HAS JUICE. EQUIUS, YOU HAVE BEEN ORDERED BY YOUR LEADER AND YOUR EMPRESS AND YOUR COMMITTEE TOO TO NOT EVEN THINK ABOUT USING BOWS NO MATTER WHAT THAT STONER PAST GAMZEE SAYS. JUST GRAB HIM OR SOMETHING. BREAK HIS LEGS IF YOU HAVE TO, WE CAN FIX THAT.
CG: LET’S TAKE THIS FREAK HARD AND FAST.
CG: LET’S GO!

The trolls gathered up. Since they were looking for a dangerous individual in dark corridors, tradition dictated that they split up and get picked off one by one. That was precisely why Karkat ordered them to stick together at all costs, using robots for reconnaissance and having at least one person look up at all times.

Not that Gamzee had made much of an effort to hide. After spending hours being kept at bay by superior preparation and having any computing device he so much as approached feed him a stream of insults and slam poetry before exploding he was good and ready for a confrontation.

TC: welcome to the dark carnival motherfuckers.
TC: WANT TO HEAR A JOKE?
TC: it goes like this:
TC: ELEVEN TROLLS MOTHERFUCKING BLUNDER INTO A ROOM WITH A SUBBJUGGLATOR
TC: and then they all get subjugglated.
TC: GET IT? IT’S FUNNY BECAUSE TROLLS GET SUBJUGGLATED!
TC: honk
TC: HONK
CG: CHARGE!

They charged.

It was a disaster.

It all started off fairly well. They managed to not get in each other’s way. The close-range fighters closed in on Gamzee quickly, while those who preferred long range stood back. Eridan drew his want; alongside him Sollux dipped a spoon into a jar of Mind Honey. Vriska flittered behind him while Aradia approached in front in a blaze of psychic glory. They were about to overwhelm him.

That’s when the disaster started.

Gamzee opened with a classic: a well-placed packet of powdered pepper thrown across the room and into Sollux’s spoon. Even before that act of buffoonery bore its fruit, Gamzee ducked between Feferi’s fork and Nepeta’s claws and allowed the two to interlock.

Running forward, Gamzee flipped over Equius’s charge and drew his juggling pins. A brief exchange later, Karkat and Terezi were both out of the fight, their weapons doing them no good.

Eridan had charged his wand fully and was about to fire a beam of white magic strong enough to finish the fight. He wouldn’t get the chance, as Gamzee rushed towards him on the Rocket Unicycle, taking a moment along the way to use a sickle to slash at charging Tavros, easily snatching the lance from his hands and turning it against Eridan’s shield. The sheer momentum compressed into a single point was enough to knock the sea dweller back and knock him out. Only Eridan’s mighty Science Shield protected him from death.

The beams wildly emanating from Sollux’s eyes as the boy sneezed and sneezed kept most of the remaining party at bay. Vriska, of course, was far too lucky to get hit with them. She appeared behind the clown, preparing a strike. And then she learned a painful truth:

No-one is too lucky to get hit with a rubber chicken.

The dice fell from Vriska’s hand as she slumped to the floor. Rolling up a NET ASSAULT they fired a barrage that found Nepeta and Sollux, though failing to bind Kanaya running chainsaw first.

A Faygo bottle launched at terminal speed and rebounding off three walls took care of that.

And now Aradia appeared behind him. All she needed was one second. But it was a second she would not get. Gamzee pressed a hand to her chest, activating a joy buzzer considerably stronger than regulation. The robot body shook and flailed as Equius-designed systems struggled against their innate instinct to explode at the first sign of trouble. In the meanwhile Aradia made a nice projectile towards Feferi.

Equius was the last one left standing. Perhaps it was because he was too STRONG to bring down with one blow; perhaps it was because the highblood had his own agenda. Either way, he was still up and his orders were clear: to bring Gamzee down through physical force. But having seen the speed the other boy was capable of, Equius was not convinced it was viable. And, despite the warnings he’d received, the words of Gamzee’s other incarnation echoed in his head. For some reason it felt as though behind them lurked an order from someone whose authority somehow superseded even the Empress.

With full knowledge that he would be doomed, Equius drew out his specibus. His eyes glued to Gamzee’s insane smile, he realized too late that instead of the BOW specibus he’d drawn on the HALF-BOW one. Not that it made a difference, since most weapons tended to make the transition from one to the other quickly enough.

He chose a bow in which it was the string that broke instead of the shaft. Perhaps it could at least serve as a makeshift club.

Gamzee advanced, slowly. Feferi attempted to raise herself back up. Gamzee casually tossed a spear through her shoulder. He couldn’t be bothered to concentrate long enough to aim for the chest.

Equius wasn’t thinking at all anymore. He just repeated the all-too-familiar motion of drawing a bow. Surely it was no more useless now than any time he’d tried to wield a bow that was actually whole?

To his shock, he felt resistance. There was no string to the bow. Equius knew there was no string. But somehow the bow was acting as though there was one - and moreover one that did snap under his fingers. At the back of his mind, that made sense. After all, who better than the Heir of Void - the heir to Nothing - to draw a bow with nothing for a string?

And who better to defeat a clown than a mime?

Gamzee never knew what hit him; this was mainly because what hit him was Nothing at all.

Gamzee was pinned for a wall. Only for a moment, perhaps, but a moment was all Equius needed to start twirling an invisible rope. As an artist, he understood it now. He understood everything. He could feel the texture of the nonexistent object in his hand.

Gamzee broke loose and charged forward.

Equius put out his hand to feel an invisible wall.

Running directly into it, Gamzee flew back. It took him a few seconds to recover. But for those few seconds he’d lost control fo the battlefield. He failed to see Kanaya getting up and deploying the secret weapon. And now it was too late.

The pie catapult was primed and ready to fire.

Naturally, Gamzee attempted to dodge. But even he knew the battle was lost from the second the miniature siege weapon landed on the floor. There was pretty much no way the pie wasn’t going to hit him right in the face.

No way at all.

The descendant of the High Subjugglators looked up, pie crust and sopor slime dripping from his clown makeup.

TC: WhAt hAvE I BeEn mOtHeRfUcKiNg dOiNg?

And then Gamzee came closer to death than throughout the whole fight, getting rushed by ten trolls who were intent on initiating a group hug and not taking no for an answer.

The remaining troll was too busy going down invisible stairs.

Have I ever mentioned how much I really love this fic? Because it is delightful. Mime Equius is the best thing.

[ceruleanTresses]

Oh my god you guys. You are not going to believe the ridiculous songfic idea I just had.
I'm not sure when it will be up, but I will not rest until it is done. I mean, apart from the few hours I'm about to spend sleeping.
I sure hope this isn't one of those ideas that seems stupid when I'm no longer sleep deprived!

[anonymousComrade]

Oh my god you guys. You are not going to believe the ridiculous songfic idea I just had.
I'm not sure when it will be up, but I will not rest until it is done. I mean, apart from the few hours I'm about to spend sleeping.
I sure hope this isn't one of those ideas that seems stupid when I'm no longer sleep deprived!

Can't possibly be as ridiculous as the version of Robot Hell that popped into my head today

It was too dumb for me to even consider making into an actual thing, which is saying something

[PingZing]

So uh, what with all the ancestor stuff going around, I came up with this idea. Most of the concepts presented are hardly original, but it was a lot of fun to write, and I intend to continue it. I'd like to hear what you guys think.

Betcha can't guess whose ancestor this is*.

*total lie, it's super obvious

Hot Blooded

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Tarfus Depinza was not having a good day, but that was nothing unusual. He spat blood and felt his captors recoil. Despite his situation, he couldn’t resist a smirk; damned highbloods were always so fastidious, so clean. It was like they thought even touching him or his blood would pollute them. If his tongue wasn’t swollen from him biting it, and his throat not raw from screaming for so long, he would’ve laughed. Here he was, about as broken and beaten as he could get, and those supposedly superior to him refused to leave him without two strong, healthy escorts and chains between his arms and legs.

What made it even funnier is that they were probably in the right to do so. Even now, he could spot flaws in their technique that, had he been able to stand under his own power, he could’ve exploited in less time than it took either of them to draw breath. The guard on the left’s stance was slightly too wide, and the one with a hand on his right shoulder was resting too much of his weight there. All Tarfus had to do was lean to his left to unbalance the right guard, trip the other with his leg, grab the guard’s sickle, block the swing coming from his right, gut the guard, and then turn and finish off the other one…

But alas, as he tried to move his body, all he got was a feeble twitch and lance of pain through his leg. A man could dream, couldn’t he?

He continued walking—it was more like being dragged, really—and tried to pass the time by sneering at the décor and passers-by. The low ceilings and dim blue lighting did nothing to ease Tarfus’ sense of claustrophobia. Though to be fair, that was more likely because he’d been captured, and was currently being dragged to meet Her Imperial Condescension herself. That or the way the interior designers insisted on surrounding every fucking light fixture in the complex with a globe of water, making every light source shimmer and ripple. Really, he got it. The royalty was water-themed. Enough already.

As for how he was currently en route to meet Her Royal Majesty in person, that was a tale in and of itself. He had been presented to the Grand Highblood in much the same state he found himself in now, sans quite a lot of abuse and, significantly, the chains. The Highblood had listened intently as the guards told the tale of a mutant-blood and his secret rebellion. How he had been discovered, and forced to move openly, or risk preemptive defeat. How his tiny band had been picked off one by one, and how Tarfus himself had only fought harder, until he at last stood alone. How he continued to fend off superior numbers alone for five straight minutes until at least he was overwhelmed by a cavalreaper charge.

How, as he had stood in the multicolored room in front of the Grand Highblood, he was so blood-spattered, that if he stood still he blended in with the walls.

The Highblood leaned forward, ever-present smile on his face and asked two questions. The first, was how’d he do it?

The second: where was the motherfucking punchline?

The guards glanced between themselves but said nothing. One visibly swallowed. They knew what happened if one failed to amuse the Highblood.

Tarfus looked up, stared the Highblood straight in the eye, and told him “Right here.”

He dropped to the floor, swept his right leg to the side and brought one of the escorts crashing to the ground. He snapped his left arm behind him and grabbed the second escort’s wrist in a moment of utter, blind luck. He rose, twisting and smiled grimly as the other troll’s wrist broke. Tarfus relieved him of his weapon and grimaced—a spear—standard cavalreaper fare but not his forte.

He ignored the injured and now weaponless guard to his left and turned just in time to narrowly miss being gutted by the other. He took a glancing slash along his side, tearing his shirt and staining it mutant candy-red along the gash. He gathered his own spear in two hands with the tip pointed skyward, and stepped inside the guard’s reach. That was the problem with spears, he thought, they’re utter shit when not used from musclebeastback. Just godawful weapons for foot soldiers used by pompous idiots, he mused, as he smashed the butt of his weapon into his attacker’s temple, knocking him to the ground and stunning him.

With both his opponents disabled or injured in just under ten seconds, it was a simple matter for Tarfus to finish them both.

Tarfus jammed the now-slick point of the spear into a gap between flagstones on the floor in front of him, folded his hands over the base, and rested his weight on it. He met the gaze of the Grand Highblood, still motionless on his throne, implacable smile still in place.

“Ba-dum tish,” Tarfus said. “That’s how.”

And while he’d been clubbed to the ground shortly afterward, he hadn’t missed the Grand Highblood’s widening smile, or what he’d said.

“Motherfuckin’ miracles.”

Notes

show spoiler

hide spoiler

So I rarely write action. As brief as it was, how did the fight scene flow?
Also, in case it wasn't obvious, yeah, Karkat's ancestor. Count the number of stolen ideas inspirations here! (Trolls as rebels, Karkancestor as a huge badass, etc etc) But yeah, I regret nothing.

[SkaianRedeemer]

@PingZing: Tarfus, I'd love to give you something for that rimshot, but I'm not going anywhere near Gamzcestor's domain.

[ceruleanTresses]

God damn, PingZing, that was awesome.

Motherf'in miracles.

[CandyLemon]

He would wipe that smirk off his face if he had to cut it off.

That's so Droog I love how you manage to make me feel sorry for him and terrified of him at the same time.

[ceruleanTresses]

Well, I couldn't get to sleep anyway, so I decided to just finish this up and post it. It is dumb, but I had so much fun writing it. It was a nice change from the woeful themes of my last two songfics. I hope someone gets a kick out of it!

all i ask a you

show spoiler

hide spoiler

no more fabrications
theres no need to go on
pretendin to ignore me
i knoww that youre flushed for me

im so fuckin lonely
forsaken and wwithdrawwn
i guess its unsurprisin
red feelins should be risin

say youll lovve me
evvery wwakin moment
say the wword
ill fill a pail wwith you

say you need me wwith you
noww and alwways
youre not my first choice
but ill take you
and you wwill havve to do


scarlet is a no go
i can take a hint
so lets try somethin blacker
wwill you be my attacker

all I wwant is loathin
a blackrom dark as flint
your bitter detestation
wwill be my sole salvvation

say youll share wwith me your hate
your malice
say youll make me wwant to throttle you

ill be vvenomous
and ill be callous
youre not really wworthy
but youll do
i knoww i could hate you


say youll share with me
one fuckin quadrant
please say yes
come on im beggin you

share a diamond with me
be my morail
if pales no good
will ashen do

romance
is all i wwant from you

(There is a brief interlude, during which Eridan sighs dramatically and writes emo poetry.)

kinda seems no matter wwhat i do
youll nevver wwant me
so fuck you

Original song.

There is a single fish pun hidden in this! Can you find it?

[Solarn]

12x12

show spoiler

hide spoiler

cancerousCrabapple began trolling tripupGumshoe

CC: )(EY DAVE!!
TG: auuugh
TG: oh my crap what
TG: i thought i got rid of you guys
CC: what?
CC: oh! )(E)(E)(E)(E!
CC: no, a little thing like a quick login-logout can't trip me up!
CC: it's just i wasn't trying to talk to you in that time frame!
CC: it was kinda boring...
TG: just like the rest of my life
CC: well, yeah.
CC: but those few months in particular were exceptionally drab.
CC: but NOW!
CC: now you've met the other twelve humans, and the other three yous!
CC: this is where it gets EXCITING!
TG: yeah about that
TG: who are these nimrods
TG: and who are you
TG: is this another trick of the game is this fake
CC: bluh! nooo!
CC: you're not the only one playing this game, Dave!
CC: there are scores and scores of player groups, each one playing a different iteraiton of this same game!
CC: it was just our luck to bump into eachother!
TG: our as in yours and mine
TG: or
TG: yours mine the other mes and so on
CC: )(A)(A! close!
TG: oh god
CC: there are even MORE of my kind of player!
CC: when you think about it, we're actually kind of... ALIKE!
TG: heh yeah
TG: were you as freaked out meeting your double as i was
CC: oh, considerably.
CC: the pink me is a real DITZ! XP
TG: uhh
TG: i was joking
TG: you actually met copies of yourself
CC: well, yeah!
CC: there's a dark red one, and an orange one...
CC: there's about twelve of us in all!
TG: holy hell
TG: and let me guess there are eleven others on your team
TG: not the different versions just eleven other individuals all told
CC: ummm....
CC: yeah!
CC: )(ow did you know that?
TG: because im a sleuth ma'am
TG: and this is one hell of a problem
TG: i believe this calls for futher investigation
CC: )(E)(E)(E)(E!
CC: sooooo coool!
TG: arent i though

cancerousCrabapple ceased trolling tripupGumshoe

Oh damn, now I want to see subjugglator!everyone. And every kind of Gamzee possible. I mean, I want to see the rest as well, but Gamzee's combinations are the most interesting.

[Isoraqathedh]

Integration · Troll Chapter [1] [2] [3] [4] [4a] [4b] [5] [6] [7] [8] [...]

Double Index No. 4.13.07$003 // No. 2.98.04$003 -- Integration · Troll rev. 2.0: 3 // Beyond Hypertonic Patch A41612 II: The Redacted for the Sake of the Spellchecker

show spoiler

hide spoiler

…and to say nothing of this ship’s name, which is Redacted for the Sake of the Spellchecker! What spellchecker? Why must we redact the name for it? Is it some kind of god?

“Hey, if you don’t mind actually doing something about ORDOT (3), that would be very good thank you very much.”

That’s him all right. Vantšejtj (4) is never slack about this. Everything must be serious for him. Quite rightly for him, but it’s really painful. Also the whole acronym thing is really weird. I mean everyone knows it should be Operation RtDOT, pronounced “Operation Are-Tee-Dot”, and not ORDOT, pronounced “Ore-Dot”. This guy is off his rocker, and he’s still the highest-ranking of the ship. But then, he was pretty much an alien, so I guess I can’t blame him. Maybe it’s just that.

“You finished your monologue yet, Benny? If you please…” Vantšejtj points to the sub-boat.

“Do not call me Benny.”

“Well” – he hesitates slightly – “Benistorfna is not quite pronounceable.”

Oh right. I keep forgetting that old Van never had a cleft palate. (5) Strange of him – everyone else can do “FN” properly. (6) I must find a way to annoy him using this fact. He’s been ribbing on “Benny” too much to not have at least the tiniest of revenge. Then, I had an inspiration.

“Oi, Van, have you sent the message?” (He’s pretty much used to my calls of “Van” by now.)

“Which one?”

“Letter ICU-0.”

“Oh that. Uh—”

Gotcha!

“Sent.”

Oh right, his mind-computer. Stupid mind-computer. Why can’t I have one?

Footnotes:

show spoiler

hide spoiler

(3) Short form for Operation Rescue the Decade-Old Trolls.
(4) You can approximate that as VAN-checked.
(5) Not what you think of – just a small hole that connects the nasal cavity to the oral one.
(6) “FN” is described as the velar-pharyngeal fricative. That approximately means your snoring sound.

Chapter 4, 4a and 4b will be posted no earlier than page 70.

[Graven_Image]

So uh, what with all the ancestor stuff going around, I came up with this idea. Most of the concepts presented are hardly original, but it was a lot of fun to write, and I intend to continue it. I'd like to hear what you guys think.

Betcha can't guess whose ancestor this is*.

*total lie, it's super obvious

Hot Blooded

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Tarfus Depinza was not having a good day, but that was nothing unusual. He spat blood and felt his captors recoil. Despite his situation, he couldn’t resist a smirk; damned highbloods were always so fastidious, so clean. It was like they thought even touching him or his blood would pollute them. If his tongue wasn’t swollen from him biting it, and his throat not raw from screaming for so long, he would’ve laughed. Here he was, about as broken and beaten as he could get, and those supposedly superior to him refused to leave him without two strong, healthy escorts and chains between his arms and legs.

What made it even funnier is that they were probably in the right to do so. Even now, he could spot flaws in their technique that, had he been able to stand under his own power, he could’ve exploited in less time than it took either of them to draw breath. The guard on the left’s stance was slightly too wide, and the one with a hand on his right shoulder was resting too much of his weight there. All Tarfus had to do was lean to his left to unbalance the right guard, trip the other with his leg, grab the guard’s sickle, block the swing coming from his right, gut the guard, and then turn and finish off the other one…

But alas, as he tried to move his body, all he got was a feeble twitch and lance of pain through his leg. A man could dream, couldn’t he?

He continued walking—it was more like being dragged, really—and tried to pass the time by sneering at the décor and passers-by. The low ceilings and dim blue lighting did nothing to ease Tarfus’ sense of claustrophobia. Though to be fair, that was more likely because he’d been captured, and was currently being dragged to meet Her Imperial Condescension herself. That or the way the interior designers insisted on surrounding every fucking light fixture in the complex with a globe of water, making every light source shimmer and ripple. Really, he got it. The royalty was water-themed. Enough already.

As for how he was currently en route to meet Her Royal Majesty in person, that was a tale in and of itself. He had been presented to the Grand Highblood in much the same state he found himself in now, sans quite a lot of abuse and, significantly, the chains. The Highblood had listened intently as the guards told the tale of a mutant-blood and his secret rebellion. How he had been discovered, and forced to move openly, or risk preemptive defeat. How his tiny band had been picked off one by one, and how Tarfus himself had only fought harder, until he at last stood alone. How he continued to fend off superior numbers alone for five straight minutes until at least he was overwhelmed by a cavalreaper charge.

How, as he had stood in the multicolored room in front of the Grand Highblood, he was so blood-spattered, that if he stood still he blended in with the walls.

The Highblood leaned forward, ever-present smile on his face and asked two questions. The first, was how’d he do it?

The second: where was the motherfucking punchline?

The guards glanced between themselves but said nothing. One visibly swallowed. They knew what happened if one failed to amuse the Highblood.

Tarfus looked up, stared the Highblood straight in the eye, and told him “Right here.”

He dropped to the floor, swept his right leg to the side and brought one of the escorts crashing to the ground. He snapped his left arm behind him and grabbed the second escort’s wrist in a moment of utter, blind luck. He rose, twisting and smiled grimly as the other troll’s wrist broke. Tarfus relieved him of his weapon and grimaced—a spear—standard cavalreaper fare but not his forte.

He ignored the injured and now weaponless guard to his left and turned just in time to narrowly miss being gutted by the other. He took a glancing slash along his side, tearing his shirt and staining it mutant candy-red along the gash. He gathered his own spear in two hands with the tip pointed skyward, and stepped inside the guard’s reach. That was the problem with spears, he thought, they’re utter shit when not used from musclebeastback. Just godawful weapons for foot soldiers used by pompous idiots, he mused, as he smashed the butt of his weapon into his attacker’s temple, knocking him to the ground and stunning him.

With both his opponents disabled or injured in just under ten seconds, it was a simple matter for Tarfus to finish them both.

Tarfus jammed the now-slick point of the spear into a gap between flagstones on the floor in front of him, folded his hands over the base, and rested his weight on it. He met the gaze of the Grand Highblood, still motionless on his throne, implacable smile still in place.

“Ba-dum tish,” Tarfus said. “That’s how.”

And while he’d been clubbed to the ground shortly afterward, he hadn’t missed the Grand Highblood’s widening smile, or what he’d said.

“Motherfuckin’ miracles.”

Notes

show spoiler

hide spoiler

So I rarely write action. As brief as it was, how did the fight scene flow?
Also, in case it wasn't obvious, yeah, Karkat's ancestor. Count the number of stolen ideas inspirations here! (Trolls as rebels, Karkancestor as a huge badass, etc etc) But yeah, I regret nothing.

Wow.

That was some punchline.

[SeptimusMagistos]

Incidentally, an idea just occured to me:

With 12 different versions of Equius, does that mean it would be possible to form a complete hierarchy of people who not only fully accept their place within it but are downright fetishistic about it?

That...

We would need a lot of towels.

[C20710]

Incidentally, an idea just occured to me:

With 12 different versions of Equius, does that mean it would be possible to form a complete hierarchy of people who not only fully accept their place within it but are downright fetishistic about it?

That...

We would need a lot of towels.

hahaha, owow.

[Doodled]

So uh, what with all the ancestor stuff going around, I came up with this idea. Most of the concepts presented are hardly original, but it was a lot of fun to write, and I intend to continue it. I'd like to hear what you guys think.

Betcha can't guess whose ancestor this is*.

*total lie, it's super obvious

Hot Blooded

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Tarfus Depinza was not having a good day, but that was nothing unusual. He spat blood and felt his captors recoil. Despite his situation, he couldn’t resist a smirk; damned highbloods were always so fastidious, so clean. It was like they thought even touching him or his blood would pollute them. If his tongue wasn’t swollen from him biting it, and his throat not raw from screaming for so long, he would’ve laughed. Here he was, about as broken and beaten as he could get, and those supposedly superior to him refused to leave him without two strong, healthy escorts and chains between his arms and legs.

What made it even funnier is that they were probably in the right to do so. Even now, he could spot flaws in their technique that, had he been able to stand under his own power, he could’ve exploited in less time than it took either of them to draw breath. The guard on the left’s stance was slightly too wide, and the one with a hand on his right shoulder was resting too much of his weight there. All Tarfus had to do was lean to his left to unbalance the right guard, trip the other with his leg, grab the guard’s sickle, block the swing coming from his right, gut the guard, and then turn and finish off the other one…

But alas, as he tried to move his body, all he got was a feeble twitch and lance of pain through his leg. A man could dream, couldn’t he?

He continued walking—it was more like being dragged, really—and tried to pass the time by sneering at the décor and passers-by. The low ceilings and dim blue lighting did nothing to ease Tarfus’ sense of claustrophobia. Though to be fair, that was more likely because he’d been captured, and was currently being dragged to meet Her Imperial Condescension herself. That or the way the interior designers insisted on surrounding every fucking light fixture in the complex with a globe of water, making every light source shimmer and ripple. Really, he got it. The royalty was water-themed. Enough already.

As for how he was currently en route to meet Her Royal Majesty in person, that was a tale in and of itself. He had been presented to the Grand Highblood in much the same state he found himself in now, sans quite a lot of abuse and, significantly, the chains. The Highblood had listened intently as the guards told the tale of a mutant-blood and his secret rebellion. How he had been discovered, and forced to move openly, or risk preemptive defeat. How his tiny band had been picked off one by one, and how Tarfus himself had only fought harder, until he at last stood alone. How he continued to fend off superior numbers alone for five straight minutes until at least he was overwhelmed by a cavalreaper charge.

How, as he had stood in the multicolored room in front of the Grand Highblood, he was so blood-spattered, that if he stood still he blended in with the walls.

The Highblood leaned forward, ever-present smile on his face and asked two questions. The first, was how’d he do it?

The second: where was the motherfucking punchline?

The guards glanced between themselves but said nothing. One visibly swallowed. They knew what happened if one failed to amuse the Highblood.

Tarfus looked up, stared the Highblood straight in the eye, and told him “Right here.”

He dropped to the floor, swept his right leg to the side and brought one of the escorts crashing to the ground. He snapped his left arm behind him and grabbed the second escort’s wrist in a moment of utter, blind luck. He rose, twisting and smiled grimly as the other troll’s wrist broke. Tarfus relieved him of his weapon and grimaced—a spear—standard cavalreaper fare but not his forte.

He ignored the injured and now weaponless guard to his left and turned just in time to narrowly miss being gutted by the other. He took a glancing slash along his side, tearing his shirt and staining it mutant candy-red along the gash. He gathered his own spear in two hands with the tip pointed skyward, and stepped inside the guard’s reach. That was the problem with spears, he thought, they’re utter shit when not used from musclebeastback. Just godawful weapons for foot soldiers used by pompous idiots, he mused, as he smashed the butt of his weapon into his attacker’s temple, knocking him to the ground and stunning him.

With both his opponents disabled or injured in just under ten seconds, it was a simple matter for Tarfus to finish them both.

Tarfus jammed the now-slick point of the spear into a gap between flagstones on the floor in front of him, folded his hands over the base, and rested his weight on it. He met the gaze of the Grand Highblood, still motionless on his throne, implacable smile still in place.

“Ba-dum tish,” Tarfus said. “That’s how.”

And while he’d been clubbed to the ground shortly afterward, he hadn’t missed the Grand Highblood’s widening smile, or what he’d said.

“Motherfuckin’ miracles.”

Notes

show spoiler

hide spoiler

So I rarely write action. As brief as it was, how did the fight scene flow?
Also, in case it wasn't obvious, yeah, Karkat's ancestor. Count the number of stolen ideas inspirations here! (Trolls as rebels, Karkancestor as a huge badass, etc etc) But yeah, I regret nothing.

Why was this so exciting, I don't even...

Well, I couldn't get to sleep anyway, so I decided to just finish this up and post it. It is dumb, but I had so much fun writing it. It was a nice change from the woeful themes of my last two songfics. I hope someone gets a kick out of it!

all i ask a you

show spoiler

hide spoiler

no more fabrications
theres no need to go on
pretending to ignore me
i knoww that youre flushed for me

im so fuckin lonely
forsaken and wwithdrawwn
i guess its unsurprisin
red feelins should be risin

say youll lovve me
every wwakin moment
say the wword
ill fill a pail wwith you

say you need me wwith you
noww and alwways
youre not my first choice
but ill take you
im lonely
and you wwill havve to do


scarlet is a no go
i can take a hint
so lets try somethin blacker
wwill you be my attacker

all I wwant is loathin
a blackrom dark as flint
a bitter detestation
wwill be my sole salvvation

say youll share wwith me your hate
your malice
say youll make me wwant to throttle you

ill be vvenomous
and ill be callous
youre not really wworthy
but youll do
im lonely
so ill scorn evven you


say youll share with me
one fuckin quadrant
please say yes
come on im beggin you

share a diamond with me
be my morail
if that's no good
will ashen do

romance
is all i wwant from you

(There is a brief interlude, during which Eridan sighs dramatically and writes emo poetry.)

kinda seems no matter wwhat i do
youll nevver wwant me
so fuck you

Original song.

There is a single fish pun hidden in this! Can you find it?

That's pretty hilarious, but, uh...

I can't find it.

Incidentally, an idea just occured to me:

With 12 different versions of Equius, does that mean it would be possible to form a complete hierarchy of people who not only fully accept their place within it but are downright fetishistic about it?

That...

We would need a lot of towels.

... This is the greatest idea, ever.

[Graven_Image]

Man, I would write that, but that would involve typing the "testicle" half of centaursTesticle a lot more times than I'm comfortable with.

[Path]

There is a single fish pun hidden in this! Can you find it?

That's pretty hilarious, but, uh...

I can't find it.

Pretty sure it's "a bitter detestation
wwill be my sole salvvation"

[C20710]

Judging from the pallid grey skin and profuse orange and yellow bruising, it didn’t take a physiciancinerator to know this one was deader than shit, and had been for a while.

Curiosity is the eternal curse of the doctormentors.

Suisei has the best job title.

I never even got a chance to use "medictators". Next time maybe.

[Doodled]

Man, I would write that, but that would involve typing the "testicle" half of centaursTesticle a lot more times than I'm comfortable with.

Just create different names, then...

You know...

Keep the acronyms and colors of the original trolls, but then make them Equius.

gargantuanChampion, for instance.

@Path: ...

Wat.

[Graven_Image]

Man, I would write that, but that would involve typing the "testicle" half of centaursTesticle a lot more times than I'm comfortable with.

Disregard this, I forgot my own rule of changing the handles.


Now I just need 11 handles with the abbreviation CT.

EDIT: Aaaand i'm ninja'd by my own thing.

Wow. I need to start writing or my mind is going to explode.

[-Benedict]

Integration · Troll Chapter [1] [2] [3] [4] [4a] [4b] [5] [6] [7] [8] [...]

Double Index No. 4.13.07$003 // No. 2.98.04$003 -- Integration · Troll rev. 2.0: 3 // Beyond Hypertonic Patch A41612 II: The Redacted for the Sake of the Spellchecker

show spoiler

hide spoiler

…and to say nothing of this ship’s name, which is Redacted for the Sake of the Spellchecker! What spellchecker? Why must we redact the name for it? Is it some kind of god?

“Hey, if you don’t mind actually doing something about ORDOT (3), that would be very good thank you very much.”

That’s him all right. Vantšejtj (4) is never slack about this. Everything must be serious for him. Quite rightly for him, but it’s really painful. Also the whole acronym thing is really weird. I mean everyone knows it should be Operation RtDOT, pronounced “Operation Are-Tee-Dot”, and not ORDOT, pronounced “Ore-Dot”. This guy is off his rocker, and he’s still the highest-ranking of the ship. But then, he was pretty much an alien, so I guess I can’t blame him. Maybe it’s just that.

“You finished your monologue yet, Benny? If you please…” Vantšejtj points to the sub-boat.

“Do not call me Benny.”

“Well” – he hesitates slightly – “Benistorfna is not quite pronounceable.”

Oh right. I keep forgetting that old Van never had a cleft palate. (5) Strange of him – everyone else can do “FN” properly. (6) I must find a way to annoy him using this fact. He’s been ribbing on “Benny” too much to not have at least the tiniest of revenge. Then, I had an inspiration.

“Oi, Van, have you sent the message?” (He’s pretty much used to my calls of “Van” by now.)

“Which one?”

“Letter ICU-0.”

“Oh that. Uh—”

Gotcha!

“Sent.”

Oh right, his mind-computer. Stupid mind-computer. Why can’t I have one?

Footnotes:

show spoiler

hide spoiler

(3) Short form for Operation Rescue the Decade-Old Trolls.
(4) You can approximate that as VAN-checked.
(5) Not what you think of – just a small hole that connects the nasal cavity to the oral one.
(6) “FN” is described as the velar-pharyngeal fricative. That approximately means your snoring sound.

Chapter 4, 4a and 4b will be posted no earlier than page 70.

Wow, Iso, I honestly... is there some sort of introduction or FAQ to your AU blanket fiction stuff? Because basically every time you post I have to wonder what I'm missing out on. And all those numbers. And symbols. And maybe you're an alien? Or... I dunno. Obviously all of whatever it is you do is something you put a lot of effort into, but I'm as confused as all hell. And maybe saying that makes me a jackass, but I seriously want to know what all of this stuff is.

@PingZing- Ahahahaha, nice. The ancestors are pretty damn bloodthirsty, and Tarfus is the most memorabloodthirsty of them all. (Naturally, the Grand Highblood is deplorabloodthirsty.)

@Septimus- Actually, there would only be 11 Equius variants. The candy-red Equius would have already culled himself to save his superiors the trouble.