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

[Path]

@Path: gogdammit why must you churn out awesome in such tiny chapters?

Every other chapter is going to be huge though, so it'll balance out!

[Rimbaum]

@Path: gogdammit why must you churn out awesome in such tiny chapters?

Every other chapter is going to be huge though, so it'll balance out!

Eventually... I guess *pout*

[Path]

Now I feel sad. But I still need to write up Die's segment for the next part and make the panel for it, so.... I'm sorry Rimbaum! You'll just have to wait for now.

[Embargo]

@kaoticAntagonist: I really feel like your Purple!Dave isn't quite different enough from canon...? Like... he sounds, at this point, exactly like regular Dave, he just has better punctuation. That's it. There's nothing to truly distinguish him, no hobbies, no interesting habits; nothing from living with Mom that would have made him unique.

Sorry man :\

I just want to thank you for the criticism. Personally, I think there are parts where I could do a better job of differentiating between the two daves, though I do think I did a semi-decent job of giving purple!dave a few identifying quirks that are unique to him.

Like his obsession with bondage. Notice how half of the fics with purple!dave have a section where he starts talking about people being tied up and cut up/abused?

[A Fan]

A quick trollcestor fic that may or may not be a one-shot:

show spoiler

hide spoiler

The ship Sepulchral Fluid Rage was a fairly typical Alternian privateer in most ways. Built for a three-person crew, each relegated to his or her own compartment of the ship to prevent interpersonal interaction from distracting from the important task of navigating the distances between the stars, looking for fresh new civilizations to pillage and terrorize. The ship itself was shaped something like the thorn of a stenchblossom, a tapered cone flaring aft to reveal the FTL drive. A strangely aerodynamic shape for a spaceship, until one bore in mind it was designed to swoop into and out of atmospheres like a coastal beakfiend spearing fish from the water's surface.
The Rage's differences from other privateers were mostly intangible, but one key difference was readily visible. While most ships of its kind bore teal or blue trim, indicative of the bloodcaste of the captain, this ship's trim was as red as maraschino fructose globes.
In the command module, Exilarch Vitrolus Redblood sighed grumpily as he tried to work yet another lump out of the grubleather seat. The thing never quite felt comfortable, much like his bizarre position in troll society.
Before he could once again analyze that position, one of the two lights on the chair's right arm began blinking. He pressed it and barked, "REPORT."
"iincomiing tran2mii22iion from hiigh subjugglugator honkclub," came the droning reply. Hivehead Winiel Doomgaze, plugged into the ship's apian mainframe, always spoke with an odd reverb while acting as the Rage's primary CPU, countless insectoid voices chiming in chorus with his own.
The lumps in Redblood's chair were quickly forgotten. "OH FAN-FUCKING-TASTIC. ANOTHER DEATH ERRAND TO RUN FOR THE GODDAMN CLOWN PRINCE OF PSYCHOSIS." He sighed wearily. "ONSCREEN."
The display before him, which had been the view from the stern, resolved itself into the ominous figure of the current Voice of the Mirthful Messiahs. A death's-grin rictus never leaving his garishly painted face, he exclaimed, "WHAT IT IS, my motherfuckin' unpeople?"
Redblood gave a courteous nod, his resentment restrained for his own safety. "GRINLORD. HOW MAY WE BE OF SERVICE?"
The Subjugglugator's smile lost a degree or two of its horrific aspect, becoming almost fond. "y'see, tha's what i like about you, redblood." The expression's disturbing nature returned with a vengeance. "ALWAYS SO MOTHERFUCKIN' STRAIGHTFORWARD. NO BULLSHIT, no boring-ass formailities, and NO WASTIN' MY MOTHERFUCKIN' TIME QUAKIN' IN YOUR MOTHERFUCKIN' BOOTS, stammerin' like it'll take a goddamn miracle for you to finish your motherfuckin' sentences."
Redblood focused on his breathing. In, out. In, out. Feel the expansion and contraction of your alveolar sponge bags, Vitrolus. "YOUR ESTEEM IS APPRECIATED, SIR. NOW, YOUR DIRECTIVE?"
For a moment, Honkclub's expression was quietly confused, as though he had forgotten that this was not merely a social call. "oh yeah. see, me an' my posse, we got some DULL-ASS, GILL-NECKED MOTHERFUCKER tryin' to sic us on his black ex. MOTHERFUCKER DIDN"T EVEN HAVE THE MOTHERFUCKIN' COURTESY TO STICK AROUND AND DIE."
Redblood permitted himself a hint of a grin. "WHAT AN UNFORGIVABLE BREACH OF ETIQUETTE."
"FUCK YEAH."
"I TAKE IT YOU WANT US TO RECTIFY THIS?"
Honkclub began rolling one of his eponymous bludgeons in his hands, seemingly focused on the juggling implement's balance. "it'd be nice."
The Exilarch rose and delivered a bow. "BY YOUR COMMAND, SIR."
The Ringleader of the Dark Carnival resumed his rictus grin. "BITCHIN'. HONKCLUB OUT."
Redblood paused for a moment, working out the tension of speaking with the only reason he hadn't been culled for extrahemospectral mutation. Then, he made an unpleasant realization. "FUCK." Pressing the intercom switch for the computation module, he didn't even wait for Doomgaze's reply before grousing, "WINIEL, PLEASE TELL ME THAT MANIAC REMEMBERED TO SEND US SOME KIND OF DATA ON THE ASSHOLE WE'RE SUPPOSED TO KILL."
The buzzing reply came with all the patience the captain lacked. "ii have receiived all per2nent data, 2iir. our target ii2 one orphaner dual2car."
"REALLY?" Redblood managed to find a comfortable position in his chair. "THIS MIGHT ACTUALLY BE TOLERABLE." He flicked the other comswitch, this one leading to the pilot. "GRAVEEAR!"
Unmaiden Hecate Graveear, low of caste but peerless in flight, gave her typically cursory reply. "y0ur 0rders, sir?"
"WE'VE GOT A BOUNTY. DOOMGAZE SHOULD BE SENDING YOU THE COORDINATES."
"already received. c0urse set."
"THEN LET'S GET THIS FARCE STARTED. ENGAGE."
As the Rage began telling relativity to sit down and shut up, Doomgaze took advantage of the still-open com channel. "2uch op2mii2m ii2 2omewhat uncharac2rii2tiic for you, 2iir. ii take iit you are famiiliiar wiith the bounty?"
The Exilarch gave a dark chuckle. "YOU KNOW ME, WINIEL. I KEEP TABS ON EVERY INSUFFERABLE PILE OF SMUGNESS THAT EVER SUCKED SEAWATER. BUT DUALSCAR? DUALSCAR'S A SPECIAL CASE."
"how 2o?"
"HE'S THE SCARF-WEARING OMNIDOUCHE WHO KILLED MY LUSUS."

[crash826]

A quick trollcestor fic that may or may not be a one-shot:

show spoiler

hide spoiler

The ship Sepulchral Fluid Rage was a fairly typical Alternian privateer in most ways. Built for a three-person crew, each relegated to his or her own compartment of the ship to prevent interpersonal interaction from distracting from the important task of navigating the distances between the stars, looking for fresh new civilizations to pillage and terrorize. The ship itself was shaped something like the thorn of a stenchblossom, a tapered cone flaring aft to reveal the FTL drive. A strangely aerodynamic shape for a spaceship, until one bore in mind it was designed to swoop into and out of atmospheres like a coastal beakfiend spearing fish from the water's surface.
The Rage's differences from other privateers were mostly intangible, but one key difference was readily visible. While most ships of its kind bore teal or blue trim, indicative of the bloodcaste of the captain, this ship's trim was as red as maraschino fructose globes.
In the command module, Exilarch Vitrolus Redblood sighed grumpily as he tried to work yet another lump out of the grubleather seat. The thing never quite felt comfortable, much like his bizarre position in troll society.
Before he could once again analyze that position, one of the two lights on the chair's right arm began blinking. He pressed it and barked, "REPORT."
"iincomiing tran2mii22iion from hiigh subjugglugator honkclub," came the droning reply. Hivehead Winiel Doomgaze, plugged into the ship's apian mainframe, always spoke with an odd reverb while acting as the Rage's primary CPU, countless insectoid voices chiming in chorus with his own.
The lumps in Redblood's chair were quickly forgotten. "OH FAN-FUCKING-TASTIC. ANOTHER DEATH ERRAND TO RUN FOR GODDAMN CLOWN PRINCE OF PSYCHOSIS." He sighed wearily. "ONSCREEN."
The display before him, which had been the view from the stern, resolved itself into the ominous figure of the current Voice of the Mirthful Messiahs. A death's-grin rictus never leaving his garishly painted face, he exclaimed, "WHAT IT IS, my motherfuckin' unpeople?"
Redblood gave a courteous nod, his resentment restrained for his own safety. "GRINLORD. HOW MAY WE BE OF SERVICE?"
The Subjugglugator's smile lost a degree or two of its horrific aspect, becoming almost fond. "y'see, tha's what i like about you, redblood." The expression's disturbing nature returned with a vengeance. "ALWAYS SO MOTHERFUCKIN' STRAIGHTFORWARD. NO BULLSHIT, no boring-ass formailities, and NO WASTIN' MY MOTHERFUCKIN' TIME QUAKIN' IN YOUR MOTHERFUCKIN' BOOTS, stammerin' like it'll take a goddamn miracle for you to finish your motherfuckin' sentences."
Redblood focused on his breathing. In, out. In, out. Feel the expansion and contraction of your alveolar sponge bags, Vitrolus. "YOUR ESTEEM IS APPRECIATED, SIR. NOW, YOUR DIRECTIVE?"
For a moment, Honkclub's expression was quietly confused, as though he had forgotten that this was not merely a social call. "oh yeah. see, me an' my posse, we got some DULL-ASS, GILL-NECKED MOTHERFUCKER tryin' to sic us on his black ex. MOTHERFUCKER DIDN"T EVEN HAVE THE MOTHERFUCKIN' COURTESY TO STICK AROUND AND DIE."
Redblood permitted himself a hint of a grin. "WHAT AN UNFORGIVABLE BREACH OF ETIQUETTE."
"FUCK YEAH."
"I TAKE IT YOU WANT US TO RECTIFY THIS?"
Honkclub began rolling one of his eponymous bludgeons in his hands, seemingly focused on the juggling implement's balance. "it'd be nice."
The Exilarch rose and delivered a bow. "BY YOUR COMMAND, SIR."
The Ringleader of the Dark Carnival resumed his rictus grin. "BITCHIN'. HONKCLUB OUT."
Redblood paused for a moment, working out the tension of speaking with the only reason he hadn't been culled for extrahemospectral mutation. Then, he made an unpleasant realization. "FUCK." Pressing the intercom switch for the computation module, he didn't even wait for Doomgaze's reply before grousing, "WINIEL, PLEASE TELL ME THAT MANIAC REMEMBERED TO SEND US SOME KIND OF DATA ON THE ASSHOLE WE'RE SUPPOSED TO KILL."
The buzzing reply came with all the patience the captain lacked. "ii have receiived all per2nent data, 2iir. our target ii2 one orphaner dual2car."
"REALLY?" Redblood managed to find a comfortable position in his chair. "THIS MIGHT ACTUALLY BE TOLERABLE." He flicked the other comswitch, this one leading to the pilot. "GRAVEEAR!"
Unmaiden Hecate Graveear, low of caste but peerless in flight, gave her typically cursory reply. "y0ur 0rders, sir?"
"WE'VE GOT A BOUNTY. DOOMGAZE SHOULD BE SENDING YOU THE COORDINATES."
"already received. c0urse set."
"THEN LET'S GET THIS FARCE STARTED. ENGAGE."
As the Rage began telling relativity to sit down and shut up, Doomgaze took advantage of the still-open com channel. "2uch op2mii2m ii2 2omewhat uncharac2rii2tiic for you, 2iir. ii take iit you are famiiliiar wiith the bounty?"
The Exilarch gave a dark chuckle. "YOU KNOW ME, WINIEL. I KEEP TABS ON EVERY INSUFFERABLE PILE OF SMUGNESS THAT EVER SUCKED SEAWATER. BUT DUALSCAR? DUALSCAR'S A SPECIAL CASE."
"how 2o?"
"HE'S THE SCARF-WEARING OMNIDOUCHE WHO KILLED MY LUSUS."

we as a public demand more.

do ittttt

[QRQD]

So hey I've got a new thing. I don't really know where it's going yet, but it's called

Barricade, Chapter 1

show spoiler

hide spoiler

The thing with being heir to the throne is that you only ascend to power if the current occupier is dead.
This was a problem for Feferi Peixes. The Empress had no intention of letting her claim the throne, and having become too old to have the protection of her lusus, she was forced into hiding.
The Empress continued to devote a large amount of effort to finding her, which proved inconvenient for her friends, who had taken up their places in the Imperial army.
The code for a video game lay undisturbed in the ruins beneath a city on the troll homeworld, destined for a future generation.
This is the story of the fate of Alternia.

---

Karkat Vantas, enlistment number 6124601025, wasn’t particularly popular in his flaysquad. This didn’t surprise him. You couldn’t hide your blood colour once you’d begun basic training, so he’d been outed quickly, and ever since had had to learn to check his bed each night and sleep with one eye open. The sergeant, a blue-blood, had given him shit for it from day one. If no one else had done something to piss the guy off, Karkat was the one to do whatever stupid chore he thought up at that moment.
He could deal with that. He knew his blood would get him into trouble. He took solace in the fact that he knew, deep down, that he was destined to do something great. He just didn’t know what yet, that was all.

In their downtime, most of the low-bloods on Battleship 612 hung out at the tavern in the lower levels. Karkat took the opportunity to catch up with his old friends - Aradia, Tavros and Sollux, a gang that went way back. All twelve of them did, though with the complex system of relationships between any group of trolls it was rare to see everyone together. The bottom four, at least, got along well enough to hang out.
He had always been amazed that all twelve of them had survived to adulthood. Especially when the Imperial Drone came to them all before they left. Some emergency measures were taken - Eridan and Kanaya had suddenly decided they were completely sable until the moment the buckets got filled, and they weren’t the only ones. Tavros and Nepeta never seemed to be that into their matespritship. Eridan, again, had managed to rope some witless girl into his own red quadrant until he abandoned her to keep pursuing Feferi. Gamzee had somehow managed to present two filled buckets, the origins of which no one knew, including him. He put it down to “fucking miracles”.
Feferi had already been in hiding at that point. She was the only one who hadn’t managed or needed to make those sorts of connections.
Karkat himself had held together a good enough matespritship with Terezi, though they’d grown distant once she’d started her training to be a prosecutor. On the black side, his six-sweep-old self would have baulked at the thought of finding a kismesis in Nepeta. But a series of annoying and embarrassing shenanigans resulted in him being glad she spent most of her time in the blue bar by invitation of Equius, lest they both get in trouble for misdemeanour.

This is not, however, a story about romance.
So it behoves us to wonder why we now see Eridan eating an elegant dinner with a young lady on his own private ship. The ship was a relic of his ancestor Dualscar, modernised and fitted for space flight, and no one had yet been able to take it from him. It had the additional advantage that its blueprints existed nowhere in the Alternian archive. The girl was a blue-blood, he thought - he hadn’t been paying that much attention. She was one of many, a succession of affairs that had earned Eridan a reputation as something of a ladykiller, particularly when it came to long-haired, energetic women. It had taken him sweeps of blundering to finally manage to present himself as attractive, and he dreaded to think what would have happened if he’d tried spreading his seed earlier in life. Not that it mattered. He was eating dinner with a cute girl in his private abode, and it didn’t take a romantic progeny to figure out where this was heading. Or would have headed.
The ship’s bell sounded, indicating that someone was docking in the airlock. He was not formally expecting any visitors. But at the back of his mind he always expected the Inquisition. Quickly, quietly and efficiently, four of them entered the room and surrounded the table. Two of them, a man and a woman, had the gills of sea-dwellers; the other two men were land-dwellers of some sort. They took the girl by both arms and pinned her against a wall. She tried to struggle but couldn’t escape their grip.
“Do you mind?” Eridan asked, coolly. “You’ve rather ruined a private dinner.”
“You know what this is about,” the male sea-dweller growled at him, while the female stared down his date.
“Long hair, slim frame,” she described. “No gills, but she might have cut them off. Only one way to be sure.” She drew her sword and impaled the girl, twisting it in her gut. Blood splattered everywhere as the land-dwellers let her drop to the ground, writhing in agony.
“Blue,” the male sea-dweller said at Eridan’s ear. “You got lucky this time, Ampora. We will get you.”
The four of them left in silence. It would have been so easy to kill them while their backs were turned. Especially the land-dwellers. He would have gladly seen their disgusting blood smeared across his walls. But it would have only ended up in his own execution. He knew the only reason the empress let him live at all was in the hopes of drawing out Feferi. As long as he kept dating girls that vaguely fit her description, giving the inquisition the hope that this time they’d have the right one, then he’d stay alive, and they probably wouldn’t find her hiding in the bowels of his ship.
It did mean a lot of cleaning up, though. Food from the table had fallen to the floor, there was blue blood everywhere, and now he’d have to dispose of the body breathing its last at his feet, too.
He really should have learned her name.

show spoiler

hide spoiler

A dialogue-light first chapter, mainly to set up the AU. The overall story is inspired by Andrew's comments way back when the hemospectrum was introduced that a social revolution overthrowing the blood castes would have been imminent were it not for Sgrub, so here's how it could have happened. Also probably going to have some inspiration from Les Misérables - you might have spotted the reference in Karkat's enlistment number - though I don't really know how heavily such an inspiration could impact the plot.

If it all works out this'll be my third major fic, after House Party and Windows.

How did this not get commented on? This is awesome, really looking forward to seeing more.

[Embargo]

A quick trollcestor fic that may or may not be a one-shot:

show spoiler

hide spoiler

The ship Sepulchral Fluid Rage was a fairly typical Alternian privateer in most ways. Built for a three-person crew, each relegated to his or her own compartment of the ship to prevent interpersonal interaction from distracting from the important task of navigating the distances between the stars, looking for fresh new civilizations to pillage and terrorize. The ship itself was shaped something like the thorn of a stenchblossom, a tapered cone flaring aft to reveal the FTL drive. A strangely aerodynamic shape for a spaceship, until one bore in mind it was designed to swoop into and out of atmospheres like a coastal beakfiend spearing fish from the water's surface.
The Rage's differences from other privateers were mostly intangible, but one key difference was readily visible. While most ships of its kind bore teal or blue trim, indicative of the bloodcaste of the captain, this ship's trim was as red as maraschino fructose globes.
In the command module, Exilarch Vitrolus Redblood sighed grumpily as he tried to work yet another lump out of the grubleather seat. The thing never quite felt comfortable, much like his bizarre position in troll society.
Before he could once again analyze that position, one of the two lights on the chair's right arm began blinking. He pressed it and barked, "REPORT."
"iincomiing tran2mii22iion from hiigh subjugglugator honkclub," came the droning reply. Hivehead Winiel Doomgaze, plugged into the ship's apian mainframe, always spoke with an odd reverb while acting as the Rage's primary CPU, countless insectoid voices chiming in chorus with his own.
The lumps in Redblood's chair were quickly forgotten. "OH FAN-FUCKING-TASTIC. ANOTHER DEATH ERRAND TO RUN FOR GODDAMN CLOWN PRINCE OF PSYCHOSIS." He sighed wearily. "ONSCREEN."
The display before him, which had been the view from the stern, resolved itself into the ominous figure of the current Voice of the Mirthful Messiahs. A death's-grin rictus never leaving his garishly painted face, he exclaimed, "WHAT IT IS, my motherfuckin' unpeople?"
Redblood gave a courteous nod, his resentment restrained for his own safety. "GRINLORD. HOW MAY WE BE OF SERVICE?"
The Subjugglugator's smile lost a degree or two of its horrific aspect, becoming almost fond. "y'see, tha's what i like about you, redblood." The expression's disturbing nature returned with a vengeance. "ALWAYS SO MOTHERFUCKIN' STRAIGHTFORWARD. NO BULLSHIT, no boring-ass formailities, and NO WASTIN' MY MOTHERFUCKIN' TIME QUAKIN' IN YOUR MOTHERFUCKIN' BOOTS, stammerin' like it'll take a goddamn miracle for you to finish your motherfuckin' sentences."
Redblood focused on his breathing. In, out. In, out. Feel the expansion and contraction of your alveolar sponge bags, Vitrolus. "YOUR ESTEEM IS APPRECIATED, SIR. NOW, YOUR DIRECTIVE?"
For a moment, Honkclub's expression was quietly confused, as though he had forgotten that this was not merely a social call. "oh yeah. see, me an' my posse, we got some DULL-ASS, GILL-NECKED MOTHERFUCKER tryin' to sic us on his black ex. MOTHERFUCKER DIDN"T EVEN HAVE THE MOTHERFUCKIN' COURTESY TO STICK AROUND AND DIE."
Redblood permitted himself a hint of a grin. "WHAT AN UNFORGIVABLE BREACH OF ETIQUETTE."
"FUCK YEAH."
"I TAKE IT YOU WANT US TO RECTIFY THIS?"
Honkclub began rolling one of his eponymous bludgeons in his hands, seemingly focused on the juggling implement's balance. "it'd be nice."
The Exilarch rose and delivered a bow. "BY YOUR COMMAND, SIR."
The Ringleader of the Dark Carnival resumed his rictus grin. "BITCHIN'. HONKCLUB OUT."
Redblood paused for a moment, working out the tension of speaking with the only reason he hadn't been culled for extrahemospectral mutation. Then, he made an unpleasant realization. "FUCK." Pressing the intercom switch for the computation module, he didn't even wait for Doomgaze's reply before grousing, "WINIEL, PLEASE TELL ME THAT MANIAC REMEMBERED TO SEND US SOME KIND OF DATA ON THE ASSHOLE WE'RE SUPPOSED TO KILL."
The buzzing reply came with all the patience the captain lacked. "ii have receiived all per2nent data, 2iir. our target ii2 one orphaner dual2car."
"REALLY?" Redblood managed to find a comfortable position in his chair. "THIS MIGHT ACTUALLY BE TOLERABLE." He flicked the other comswitch, this one leading to the pilot. "GRAVEEAR!"
Unmaiden Hecate Graveear, low of caste but peerless in flight, gave her typically cursory reply. "y0ur 0rders, sir?"
"WE'VE GOT A BOUNTY. DOOMGAZE SHOULD BE SENDING YOU THE COORDINATES."
"already received. c0urse set."
"THEN LET'S GET THIS FARCE STARTED. ENGAGE."
As the Rage began telling relativity to sit down and shut up, Doomgaze took advantage of the still-open com channel. "2uch op2mii2m ii2 2omewhat uncharac2rii2tiic for you, 2iir. ii take iit you are famiiliiar wiith the bounty?"
The Exilarch gave a dark chuckle. "YOU KNOW ME, WINIEL. I KEEP TABS ON EVERY INSUFFERABLE PILE OF SMUGNESS THAT EVER SUCKED SEAWATER. BUT DUALSCAR? DUALSCAR'S A SPECIAL CASE."
"how 2o?"
"HE'S THE SCARF-WEARING OMNIDOUCHE WHO KILLED MY LUSUS."

we as a public demand more.

do ittttt

So hey I've got a new thing. I don't really know where it's going yet, but it's called

Barricade, Chapter 1

show spoiler

hide spoiler

The thing with being heir to the throne is that you only ascend to power if the current occupier is dead.
This was a problem for Feferi Peixes. The Empress had no intention of letting her claim the throne, and having become too old to have the protection of her lusus, she was forced into hiding.
The Empress continued to devote a large amount of effort to finding her, which proved inconvenient for her friends, who had taken up their places in the Imperial army.
The code for a video game lay undisturbed in the ruins beneath a city on the troll homeworld, destined for a future generation.
This is the story of the fate of Alternia.

---

Karkat Vantas, enlistment number 6124601025, wasn’t particularly popular in his flaysquad. This didn’t surprise him. You couldn’t hide your blood colour once you’d begun basic training, so he’d been outed quickly, and ever since had had to learn to check his bed each night and sleep with one eye open. The sergeant, a blue-blood, had given him shit for it from day one. If no one else had done something to piss the guy off, Karkat was the one to do whatever stupid chore he thought up at that moment.
He could deal with that. He knew his blood would get him into trouble. He took solace in the fact that he knew, deep down, that he was destined to do something great. He just didn’t know what yet, that was all.

In their downtime, most of the low-bloods on Battleship 612 hung out at the tavern in the lower levels. Karkat took the opportunity to catch up with his old friends - Aradia, Tavros and Sollux, a gang that went way back. All twelve of them did, though with the complex system of relationships between any group of trolls it was rare to see everyone together. The bottom four, at least, got along well enough to hang out.
He had always been amazed that all twelve of them had survived to adulthood. Especially when the Imperial Drone came to them all before they left. Some emergency measures were taken - Eridan and Kanaya had suddenly decided they were completely sable until the moment the buckets got filled, and they weren’t the only ones. Tavros and Nepeta never seemed to be that into their matespritship. Eridan, again, had managed to rope some witless girl into his own red quadrant until he abandoned her to keep pursuing Feferi. Gamzee had somehow managed to present two filled buckets, the origins of which no one knew, including him. He put it down to “fucking miracles”.
Feferi had already been in hiding at that point. She was the only one who hadn’t managed or needed to make those sorts of connections.
Karkat himself had held together a good enough matespritship with Terezi, though they’d grown distant once she’d started her training to be a prosecutor. On the black side, his six-sweep-old self would have baulked at the thought of finding a kismesis in Nepeta. But a series of annoying and embarrassing shenanigans resulted in him being glad she spent most of her time in the blue bar by invitation of Equius, lest they both get in trouble for misdemeanour.

This is not, however, a story about romance.
So it behoves us to wonder why we now see Eridan eating an elegant dinner with a young lady on his own private ship. The ship was a relic of his ancestor Dualscar, modernised and fitted for space flight, and no one had yet been able to take it from him. It had the additional advantage that its blueprints existed nowhere in the Alternian archive. The girl was a blue-blood, he thought - he hadn’t been paying that much attention. She was one of many, a succession of affairs that had earned Eridan a reputation as something of a ladykiller, particularly when it came to long-haired, energetic women. It had taken him sweeps of blundering to finally manage to present himself as attractive, and he dreaded to think what would have happened if he’d tried spreading his seed earlier in life. Not that it mattered. He was eating dinner with a cute girl in his private abode, and it didn’t take a romantic progeny to figure out where this was heading. Or would have headed.
The ship’s bell sounded, indicating that someone was docking in the airlock. He was not formally expecting any visitors. But at the back of his mind he always expected the Inquisition. Quickly, quietly and efficiently, four of them entered the room and surrounded the table. Two of them, a man and a woman, had the gills of sea-dwellers; the other two men were land-dwellers of some sort. They took the girl by both arms and pinned her against a wall. She tried to struggle but couldn’t escape their grip.
“Do you mind?” Eridan asked, coolly. “You’ve rather ruined a private dinner.”
“You know what this is about,” the male sea-dweller growled at him, while the female stared down his date.
“Long hair, slim frame,” she described. “No gills, but she might have cut them off. Only one way to be sure.” She drew her sword and impaled the girl, twisting it in her gut. Blood splattered everywhere as the land-dwellers let her drop to the ground, writhing in agony.
“Blue,” the male sea-dweller said at Eridan’s ear. “You got lucky this time, Ampora. We will get you.”
The four of them left in silence. It would have been so easy to kill them while their backs were turned. Especially the land-dwellers. He would have gladly seen their disgusting blood smeared across his walls. But it would have only ended up in his own execution. He knew the only reason the empress let him live at all was in the hopes of drawing out Feferi. As long as he kept dating girls that vaguely fit her description, giving the inquisition the hope that this time they’d have the right one, then he’d stay alive, and they probably wouldn’t find her hiding in the bowels of his ship.
It did mean a lot of cleaning up, though. Food from the table had fallen to the floor, there was blue blood everywhere, and now he’d have to dispose of the body breathing its last at his feet, too.
He really should have learned her name.

show spoiler

hide spoiler

A dialogue-light first chapter, mainly to set up the AU. The overall story is inspired by Andrew's comments way back when the hemospectrum was introduced that a social revolution overthrowing the blood castes would have been imminent were it not for Sgrub, so here's how it could have happened. Also probably going to have some inspiration from Les Misérables - you might have spotted the reference in Karkat's enlistment number - though I don't really know how heavily such an inspiration could impact the plot.

If it all works out this'll be my third major fic, after House Party and Windows.

How did this not get commented on? This is awesome, really looking forward to seeing more.

I second both motions.

[Rimbaum]

Now I feel sad. But I still need to write up Die's segment for the next part and make the panel for it, so.... I'm sorry Rimbaum! You'll just have to wait for now.

Blar. Oh well, I can wait.

In the meantime, have a teaser for Making A Mark pt 2. The rest will have to wait until I have proper internet again, because typing this up on a phone is a pain in the ass.

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The Draconian Dignitary - Alistair was part of his name, but you can't remember the rest - stands quietly behind Jack, watching with silent approval. Where Jack is always angry, unable to really think clearly about anything without letting it soak into his head for a few days - and sometimes longer - Alistair is calm and collected. Sometimes you think he doesn't actually feel anything at all. But he is loyal to Jack. Like a puppy. Woof.

[Megafire]

Ditto'd, Embargo.

[DJ-P0N3]

Did some people want more of this session?
I know I do.

Sylph of Doom

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I stood at the large tower that held my denizen at the very top. The pulsations were faster here, and the twine was torn to shreds. I could feel his presence chill me to the bone, and how it was so refreshing compared to the heat that came from the constant surrounding hearts and their hot-blooded veins. I sat down and laid flat on my back and looked at the sky.

Skaia had been an inspiration to me. It had been black and white and blue. Three colors that were even prettier when together. Now I could see faint hints of red. I have begun to realize how everything looks better with just a dash of red. The sky, Skaia, the paintings in my room, my mother. It had all become prettier with just a tad bit of red to spruce it up and make it the lovely piece of work it was.

In the distance I heard something faint.
He had arrived.

I sat up and stared at him in the distance. He waved to me and I waved to him. He had a huge grin on his pasty white face. His freckles painted his face so horridly I wanted to play connect the dots with them. His outfit was just as I had imagined.

Atrocious.

He needed to be more color coded, he needed to match. As he walked to me, he opened his arms wide for an embrace. I suppose he wanted a hug. All I wanted was to make him tolerable to the eyes, so I kept my arms close, and gripped his neck as he tried to wrap his arms around me.

He started to turn red.

I forced him down onto his knees and stared at him with a blank expression on my face. He looked at me with tears in his eyes, they were clear and only brightened the ever changing color on his face.

He started to turn blue.

I told him how this was for the best. How I would do the impossible and make him pretty. He would become like the paintings I hung up in my room, and in the art room at my private school. He opened his mouth to speak but he couldn’t say a word. He didn’t deserve to till he wasn’t an eyesore. He grabbed my wrists and tried to pull my hands off of him.

He started to turn purple.

I grinned for the first time since we had started playing this game. He looked so wonderous now. I leaned in and gave him a kiss on the forehead. He blushed slightly, but it was hard to tell. The faint reddish pink complimented the purple. Finally, he stopped struggling. His arms went limp.

I let go, and watched him fall onto his back.

I turned around because I heard the squish of footsteps upon a clogged artery. I saw that is was the Thief of Hope, Eugene, whom had arrived shortly after Travis, the Knight of Breath. He stared at me, with hate in his eyes. I thought at that moment; how he must’ve been mad about the death of Travis.

At least, that is what I thought.

Prince of Time

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Tick.

I stood before the Alchemiter that rested within Saria’s room. I had arrived on the Land of Decay and Frogs not long ago, I had already remembered dying twice now. I was feeling so very envious of the other me’s, and how easy it had been for them to get out of this world without a care in the world. Lucky bastards.

Tock.

I captchalogued what I had alchemized, only to retrieve in a matter of seconds. I taped it to my chest and started the timer that slowly began to tick away as did the very seconds of the world did within my own mind. Somehow it ended up being in perfect sync.

Tick.

As if a sign that I had finally found a way to do what all the other me’s had already done.

Tock.

I approached her from behind, she was entangled within her own pointless, useless, frivolous routine that I had to grab her shoulders and turn her to face me. She was surprised to see me, even more so to have me so close to her. Touching her.

Tick.

She blushed.

Tock.

I started to tell her all about what I had seen, what I had recalled, what I wanted. Her happy look turned sour as I undid my jacket to show it. The time bomb I had alchemized only moments ago. It had only fifteen seconds left before it would go off. She pushed me away.

Tick.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, she was scared and infatuated with me. I should have been more surprised, but I was more excited.

Tock.

Because I was finally going to die.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.


Tick.



Tock.




Boom.

Seer of Space

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He had come to me from behind and held me. His touch was warm and I could feel myself blush red from the contact of his skin. I won’t lie and say I was tempted to kiss him, to let him have me in his arms to hold.

Because I loved him.

I had gotten him involved in the game because I wanted to meet him. I had met him on pesterchum, just like how I met the other players in our game. He had been so different. All the other boys had liked me because I was nice, and sweet, and just all around everywhere and good at everything.

But he played hard to get.

He wasn’t interested in me.

And because of that I wanted him more than anybody.

Then he revealed to me a bomb strapped to his chest and my heart was shattered. He wanted to kill himself and take me with him. I was terrified. I pushed him aside and stepped away, but not far enough.

Boom.

I screamed as I fell down onto my back. My front side was slight charred, the burns stung unbearably so. I writhed in pain and covered my eyes with my raw hands. could feel my tears and blood mix together as both streamed down my checks at a rapid pace. I tried to stand, but my feet ached. I stumbled down to my knees and I realized I had lost my vision.

He had blown my eyes away.

Charred them shut.

I tried to open my eyelids. I strained for what felt like an eternity trying to open them, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t see my own hands. I couldn’t see my friends, or Brad, or my consorts.

I couldn’t see anything.

Thief of Hope

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The Knight of Breath dashed by me on his ‘noble steed’ muttering to himself. I couldn’t hear much of it but I overheard him saying ‘neigh’. Or was it ‘nay’? Not like it mattered, I would just do to him what I had planned for the Sylph of Doom.

I steadily approached my gate. I could see it looming overhead and glowing so ominously, yet it beckoned me with its insatiable allure. I stopped for a moment to think about what I was about to do, what I had decided to do rather than actually help us win.

I planned to kill every one of my teammates.

I intended to start out with Elina because she was a mistake. She was what had made us a doomed session in the first place. I realized this sooner than anybody else, even Andrew agreed eventually that she could be the cause of our troubles. It didn’t help that Andrew had steadily become suicidal. All in all the fruits of our efforts would get us nowhere.

They would only end in tragedy, and I was to make sure of that.

I had done enough thinking, enough plotting. It was time I put my plan into action. I leaped forth and entered by next gate. After all, you had to ascend in order to descend.

I touched down on the Land of Pulse and Twine in a matter of seconds. I walked casually and in the distance I could see a figure fall to the ground. It must have been the Knight of Breath, the fool. He must have been killed by the Sylph of Doom. I had planned on killing her.

This just gave me an excuse besides my title.

I approached her with my epee drawn. I had planned to do it quick, a simple stab through the heart and let her bleed out. She didn’t seem to want to go so easily. She drew her Specibus, her old viola. It wouldn’t be much of a match for my blade.

Indeed it wasn’t.

I pierced that wooden instrument and then I pierced her chest. I retracted my attack for only a moment before I unleashed a flurry of light and heavy stabs within her torso. After a minute of my efforts, she fell to the ground.

Dead as the Knight, and dead as the night.

Who would be next was a mystery to me, but I did not care. I was fulfilling my title, my destiny. And that’s all that really mattered.

[Bratmon]

So hey I've got a new thing. I don't really know where it's going yet, but it's called

Barricade, Chapter 1

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The thing with being heir to the throne is that you only ascend to power if the current occupier is dead.
This was a problem for Feferi Peixes. The Empress had no intention of letting her claim the throne, and having become too old to have the protection of her lusus, she was forced into hiding.
The Empress continued to devote a large amount of effort to finding her, which proved inconvenient for her friends, who had taken up their places in the Imperial army.
The code for a video game lay undisturbed in the ruins beneath a city on the troll homeworld, destined for a future generation.
This is the story of the fate of Alternia.

---

Karkat Vantas, enlistment number 6124601025, wasn’t particularly popular in his flaysquad. This didn’t surprise him. You couldn’t hide your blood colour once you’d begun basic training, so he’d been outed quickly, and ever since had had to learn to check his bed each night and sleep with one eye open. The sergeant, a blue-blood, had given him shit for it from day one. If no one else had done something to piss the guy off, Karkat was the one to do whatever stupid chore he thought up at that moment.
He could deal with that. He knew his blood would get him into trouble. He took solace in the fact that he knew, deep down, that he was destined to do something great. He just didn’t know what yet, that was all.

In their downtime, most of the low-bloods on Battleship 612 hung out at the tavern in the lower levels. Karkat took the opportunity to catch up with his old friends - Aradia, Tavros and Sollux, a gang that went way back. All twelve of them did, though with the complex system of relationships between any group of trolls it was rare to see everyone together. The bottom four, at least, got along well enough to hang out.
He had always been amazed that all twelve of them had survived to adulthood. Especially when the Imperial Drone came to them all before they left. Some emergency measures were taken - Eridan and Kanaya had suddenly decided they were completely sable until the moment the buckets got filled, and they weren’t the only ones. Tavros and Nepeta never seemed to be that into their matespritship. Eridan, again, had managed to rope some witless girl into his own red quadrant until he abandoned her to keep pursuing Feferi. Gamzee had somehow managed to present two filled buckets, the origins of which no one knew, including him. He put it down to “fucking miracles”.
Feferi had already been in hiding at that point. She was the only one who hadn’t managed or needed to make those sorts of connections.
Karkat himself had held together a good enough matespritship with Terezi, though they’d grown distant once she’d started her training to be a prosecutor. On the black side, his six-sweep-old self would have baulked at the thought of finding a kismesis in Nepeta. But a series of annoying and embarrassing shenanigans resulted in him being glad she spent most of her time in the blue bar by invitation of Equius, lest they both get in trouble for misdemeanour.

This is not, however, a story about romance.
So it behoves us to wonder why we now see Eridan eating an elegant dinner with a young lady on his own private ship. The ship was a relic of his ancestor Dualscar, modernised and fitted for space flight, and no one had yet been able to take it from him. It had the additional advantage that its blueprints existed nowhere in the Alternian archive. The girl was a blue-blood, he thought - he hadn’t been paying that much attention. She was one of many, a succession of affairs that had earned Eridan a reputation as something of a ladykiller, particularly when it came to long-haired, energetic women. It had taken him sweeps of blundering to finally manage to present himself as attractive, and he dreaded to think what would have happened if he’d tried spreading his seed earlier in life. Not that it mattered. He was eating dinner with a cute girl in his private abode, and it didn’t take a romantic progeny to figure out where this was heading. Or would have headed.
The ship’s bell sounded, indicating that someone was docking in the airlock. He was not formally expecting any visitors. But at the back of his mind he always expected the Inquisition. Quickly, quietly and efficiently, four of them entered the room and surrounded the table. Two of them, a man and a woman, had the gills of sea-dwellers; the other two men were land-dwellers of some sort. They took the girl by both arms and pinned her against a wall. She tried to struggle but couldn’t escape their grip.
“Do you mind?” Eridan asked, coolly. “You’ve rather ruined a private dinner.”
“You know what this is about,” the male sea-dweller growled at him, while the female stared down his date.
“Long hair, slim frame,” she described. “No gills, but she might have cut them off. Only one way to be sure.” She drew her sword and impaled the girl, twisting it in her gut. Blood splattered everywhere as the land-dwellers let her drop to the ground, writhing in agony.
“Blue,” the male sea-dweller said at Eridan’s ear. “You got lucky this time, Ampora. We will get you.”
The four of them left in silence. It would have been so easy to kill them while their backs were turned. Especially the land-dwellers. He would have gladly seen their disgusting blood smeared across his walls. But it would have only ended up in his own execution. He knew the only reason the empress let him live at all was in the hopes of drawing out Feferi. As long as he kept dating girls that vaguely fit her description, giving the inquisition the hope that this time they’d have the right one, then he’d stay alive, and they probably wouldn’t find her hiding in the bowels of his ship.
It did mean a lot of cleaning up, though. Food from the table had fallen to the floor, there was blue blood everywhere, and now he’d have to dispose of the body breathing its last at his feet, too.
He really should have learned her name.

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A dialogue-light first chapter, mainly to set up the AU. The overall story is inspired by Andrew's comments way back when the hemospectrum was introduced that a social revolution overthrowing the blood castes would have been imminent were it not for Sgrub, so here's how it could have happened. Also probably going to have some inspiration from Les Misérables - you might have spotted the reference in Karkat's enlistment number - though I don't really know how heavily such an inspiration could impact the plot.

If it all works out this'll be my third major fic, after House Party and Windows.

So following this.

[Embargo]

Did some people want more of this session?
I know I do.

Sylph of Doom

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I stood at the large tower that held my denizen at the very top. The pulsations were faster here, and the twine was torn to shreds. I could feel his presence chill me to the bone, and how it was so refreshing compared to the heat that came from the constant surrounding hearts and their hot-blooded veins. I sat down and laid flat on my back and looked at the sky.

Skaia had been an inspiration to me. It had been black and white and blue. Three colors that were even prettier when together. Now I could see faint hints of red. I have begun to realize how everything looks better with just a dash of red. The sky, Skaia, the paintings in my room, my mother. It had all become prettier with just a tad bit of red to spruce it up and make it the lovely piece of work it was.

In the distance I heard something faint.
He had arrived.

I sat up and stared at him in the distance. He waved to me and I waved to him. He had a huge grin on his pasty white face. His freckles painted his face so horridly I wanted to play connect the dots with them. His outfit was just as I had imagined.

Atrocious.

He needed to be more color coded, he needed to match. As he walked to me, he opened his arms wide for an embrace. I suppose he wanted a hug. All I wanted was to make him tolerable to the eyes, so I kept my arms close, and gripped his neck as he tried to wrap his arms around me.

He started to turn red.

I forced him down onto his knees and stared at him with a blank expression on my face. He looked at me with tears in his eyes, they were clear and only brightened the ever changing color on his face.

He started to turn blue.

I told him how this was for the best. How I would do the impossible and make him pretty. He would become like the paintings I hung up in my room, and in the art room at my private school. He opened his mouth to speak but he couldn’t say a word. He didn’t deserve to till he wasn’t an eyesore. He grabbed my wrists and tried to pull my hands off of him.

He started to turn purple.

I grinned for the first time since we had started playing this game. He looked so wonderous now. I leaned in and gave him a kiss on the forehead. He blushed slightly, but it was hard to tell. The faint reddish pink complimented the purple. Finally, he stopped struggling. His arms went limp.

I let go, and watched him fall onto his back.

I turned around because I heard the squish of footsteps upon a clogged artery. I saw that is was the Thief of Hope, Eugene, whom had arrived shortly after Travis, the Knight of Breath. He stared at me, with hate in his eyes. I thought at that moment; how he must’ve been mad about the death of Travis.

At least, that is what I thought.

Prince of Time

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Tick.

I stood before the Alchemiter that rested within Saria’s room. I had arrived on the Land of Decay and Frogs not long ago, I had already remembered dying twice now. I was feeling so very envious of the other me’s, and how easy it had been for them to get out of this world without a care in the world. Lucky bastards.

Tock.

I captchalogued what I had alchemized, only to retrieve in a matter of seconds. I taped it to my chest and started the timer that slowly began to tick away as did the very seconds of the world did within my own mind. Somehow it ended up being in perfect sync.

Tick.

As if a sign that I had finally found a way to do what all the other me’s had already done.

Tock.

I approached her from behind, she was entangled within her own pointless, useless, frivolous routine that I had to grab her shoulders and turn her to face me. She was surprised to see me, even more so to have me so close to her. Touching her.

Tick.

She blushed.

Tock.

I started to tell her all about what I had seen, what I had recalled, what I wanted. Her happy look turned sour as I undid my jacket to show it. The time bomb I had alchemized only moments ago. It had only fifteen seconds left before it would go off. She pushed me away.

Tick.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, she was scared and infatuated with me. I should have been more surprised, but I was more excited.

Tock.

Because I was finally going to die.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.


Tick.



Tock.




Boom.

Seer of Space

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He had come to me from behind and held me. His touch was warm and I could feel myself blush red from the contact of his skin. I won’t lie and say I was tempted to kiss him, to let him have me in his arms to hold.

Because I loved him.

I had gotten him involved in the game because I wanted to meet him. I had met him on pesterchum, just like how I met the other players in our game. He had been so different. All the other boys had liked me because I was nice, and sweet, and just all around everywhere and good at everything.

But he played hard to get.

He wasn’t interested in me.

And because of that I wanted him more than anybody.

Then he revealed to me a bomb strapped to his chest and my heart was shattered. He wanted to kill himself and take me with him. I was terrified. I pushed him aside and stepped away, but not far enough.

Boom.

I screamed as I fell down onto my back. My front side was slight charred, the burns stung unbearably so. I writhed in pain and covered my eyes with my raw hands. could feel my tears and blood mix together as both streamed down my checks at a rapid pace. I tried to stand, but my feet ached. I stumbled down to my knees and I realized I had lost my vision.

He had blown my eyes away.

Charred them shut.

I tried to open my eyelids. I strained for what felt like an eternity trying to open them, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t see my own hands. I couldn’t see my friends, or Brad, or my consorts.

I couldn’t see anything.

Thief of Hope

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The Knight of Breath dashed by me on his ‘noble steed’ muttering to himself. I couldn’t hear much of it but I overheard him saying ‘neigh’. Or was it ‘nay’? Not like it mattered, I would just do to him what I had planned for the Sylph of Doom.

I steadily approached my gate. I could see it looming overhead and glowing so ominously, yet it beckoned me with its insatiable allure. I stopped for a moment to think about what I was about to do, what I had decided to do rather than actually help us win.

I planned to kill every one of my teammates.

I intended to start out with Elina because she was a mistake. She was what had made us a doomed session in the first place. I realized this sooner than anybody else, even Andrew agreed eventually that she could be the cause of our troubles. It didn’t help that Andrew had steadily become suicidal. All in all the fruits of our efforts would get us nowhere.

They would only end in tragedy, and I was to make sure of that.

I had done enough thinking, enough plotting. It was time I put my plan into action. I leaped forth and entered by next gate. After all, you had to ascend in order to descend.

I touched down on the Land of Pulse and Twine in a matter of seconds. I walked casually and in the distance I could see a figure fall to the ground. It must have been the Knight of Breath, the fool. He must have been killed by the Sylph of Doom. I had planned on killing her.

This just gave me an excuse besides my title.

I approached her with my epee drawn. I had planned to do it quick, a simple stab through the heart and let her bleed out. She didn’t seem to want to go so easily. She drew her Specibus, her old viola. It wouldn’t be much of a match for my blade.

Indeed it wasn’t.

I pierced that wooden instrument and then I pierced her chest. I retracted my attack for only a moment before I unleashed a flurry of light and heavy stabs within her torso. After a minute of my efforts, she fell to the ground.

Dead as the Knight, and dead as the night.

Who would be next was a mystery to me, but I did not care. I was fulfilling my title, my destiny. And that’s all that really mattered.

This was awesome. I would've thought that the Seer of Space would have blown up too, seeing as the tumor is supposed to be a bomb capable of taking out an entire session, but maybe captchaloguing it lessens the effect?

Still, very cool. When you think about it, there's an infinite number of ways a session can go wrong. My head canon says that every session must have one successful Alpha Timeline, since the entire idea is to propagate another universe. Or maybe not. I don't know.

[DJ-P0N3]

He didn't captchalogue the tumor.
He used a time bomb.

Frankly I have no idea what makes you think he somehow managed to get the tumor in his sylladex.

[Jim Groovester]

@SkaianRedeemer: Thanks, glad you approve of the changes. I'm looking over the rest of the outline as well, to make sure the rest of the plot is up to snuff and I don't put myself into this situation again.

I haven't played Paper Mario: TTYD, so I'll just assume that was a compliment and thank you profusely for it.

@battlerek: Don't worry, I haven't put myself through any trouble, and I'm not going to anytime soon. Once I have the big draft for this fic I'll probably make all the edits I need to.

@Tenebrais: I'm interested to see where this going, but the transition between talking about Karkat and romance and then suddenly Eridan is pretty jarring, especially since there was a switch to first person involved.

[Tenebrais]

@Tenebrais: I'm interested to see where this going, but the transition between talking about Karkat and romance and then suddenly Eridan is pretty jarring, especially since there was a switch to first person involved.

I agreed it's kind of jarring but it was the only way I could really set it up. I needed to introduce Karkat as the protagonist and show what's going on with Feferi before any real plot could start happening.
The first person was just a little narrative device that I will probably keep up throughout the fic.

Thanks to everyone who's praised this so far!

[Embargo]

He didn't captchalogue the tumor.
He used a time bomb.

Frankly I have no idea what makes you think he somehow managed to get the tumor in his sylladex.

Disregard that, i'm stupid dumb. >...>

[KarneWarrior]

Homeworld
Fear herself

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They came for her in the middle of the day, slapping a sun-visor on her face to keep the sun out of her eyes. The black strips decorating their own faces made them look un-troll-like, like robots sent to gather her.

They dragged Iksti to a Rover, which lowered it's massive back to allow them into the seats. He hands were bound and her mouth was gagged, and two Snatchers were sat in the back to watch her. she caught a glimpse of gold trim on ones uniform. This was a high ranking member. What had she done?

It took an hour to get to a small military base. They were rare on Alternia, as it was almost in the exact center of the empire. There was no reason to waste troops defending the world. Like all bases, this one protruded from the ground in ebon spires, glinting in the sunlight. Steam drifted from arrow slits in the walls, making the entire base look like some hellish factory.

They dragged her forcefully inside and tore the sun-visor off her eyes. They did likewise, slipping off their own sun-visors and putting them into hidden pockets. One of the Snatchers - Obviously the leader - leaned down to put himself eye level with Iksti.

"Eeveenin, missus. Glad you could join us teerday."

"Mumph" Iksti choked around the gag.

"Dun't bee that way, missus. Yeer beein honoreed heeree. Yeer geet ta meeeet thee Eempreess!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hmm. ~This~ is the girl I was told of? She doesn't ~look~ like a psychic."

"I'm not!" Iksti spat. They had taken off the gag at the Empress' request.

The Empress was beautiful. Her dress was spangled in shimmering jewels, trimmed in the most valuable metals, and made of only the finest fabrics. It shimmered as if underwater, reflecting a rainbow of color back over the throne room. The dress itself was a odd shade of purple, almost magenta. Tiny teal threads made a spiders web across the main body of the dress, and gold armor protected vital organs. Two massive feathers arced out from her back, making her entire form into one massive pisces symbol. Licorice hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall, shimmering with reflected light from the dress.

By her side sat a hulking subjugglator, idly fondling one of his clubs. A blood-stained skull mask, like a grim rainbow, obscured his face from Iksti's view. He tilted his head when he saw Iksti look at him, and she could have sworn she saw him smile larger. He sent chills down her dorsal column, and she looked away, back at the relatively inviting form of the Empress.

"The tests show otherwise, ~dearest~."

"They ha^e to be ^^rong, I'^e ne^er sho^^n any psychic ability in my life!"

"Ah, there we have it. In your ~life~, you say? ~lie~. My dearest subjugglator?"

"MA'ME?"

"~Do~ show what Miss Chlora seems to have missed."

The giant subjugglator stood up to his full hight, towering over everyone in the room. If Iksti had known what a meter was, the Subjugglator would have been almost two and a half meters tall.

He grabbed one of the attending servants and threw him out of the throne room. There was a pregnant scilence, and then...

Iksti gasped as Azla was dragged into the throne room.

[Summergale]

hey look altblood shenanigans involving aradia, aren't i a one trick pony :|

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Your name is ARADIA MEGIDO. You are five sweeps old, and are about to make the WORST MISTAKE OF YOUR ENTIRE LIFE. But you don't know that yet. What you do know is that you have bright red blood, and this is NOT NORMAL. You have known this for sweeps and have always hidden it. Shortly after building your hive - in a RURAL AREA, just to be sure nobody saw you - you came into contact with the HEIR APPARENT, known as SOLLUX CAPTOR. Somehow you kept your blood from him.

Tonight, you are going to tell him. As the heir to the throne of Alternia and your closest friend, he deserves to know. And, hey, maybe it'll show him that he really does need to abolish the hemospectrum, like he says he will. Your trolltag is ambiguousAbscondant and you speak in a self-deprecating manner appr0priate t0 y0ur hide0usly mutant bl00d, even th0ugh n0b0dy kn0ws ab0ut it.

That'll change soon enough. Let's get the freakshow started.

-- ambiguousAbscondant [AA] began trolling twofoldAscendancy [TA] --

AA: s0llux are y0u there?
TA: ye2.
TA: what do you need?
TA: glub.
AA: hehehe
TA: 2tfu ii can't control the glub2.
AA: anyway i just wanted t0 talk
AA: if y0u have the time 0bvi0usly
AA: i mean if you have s0mething m0re imp0rtant t0 be d0ing then i can just leave it f0r later
AA: n0 big deal
TA: whoah waiit a miinute,
TA: hold up.
TA: iif ii diidn't have tiime ii would make tiime.
TA: thii2 2eem2 pretty iimportant, 2o what'2 up?
AA: i, um.
AA: can you keep a secret sollux?
AA: see i even dropped the zeros
TA: of cour2e ii c--
TA: i mean of course i can.
TA: see i'm doing it too.
AA: okay then
AA: well this is awkward to say
AA: but
AA: um

-- ambiguousAbscondant [AA] ceased trolling twofoldAscendancy [TA] --

-- ambiguousAbscondant [AA] began trolling twofoldAscendancy [TA] --

AA: there
AA: this is what i wanted to show you sollux!
TA: wait what?
TA: is that seriously your blood colour?
AA: yes.
AA: i am being completely honest.
AA: all of my cards are on the table, and they are all this freakish mutant candy red.
TA: ...wow.
TA: hold on thii2 really ii2 getting unnatural
TA: 2o. you're a redblood?
AA: yes.
TA: diid you 2crew up on the 2aturatiion 2omehow?
TA: ii mean you don't 2eem like a maroon
AA: n0. this is actually the exact shade 0f my bl00d.
AA: it is definitely this c0l0ur.
AA: i can 0pen up a vein and send y0u a picture 0f it if y0u d0nt believe me!
TA: whoah fuck no that won't be nece22ary at all AD.
TA: ii'm not TZ
TA: ju2t
TA: lemme thiink about thii2 okay
AA: okay.
AA: i am g0ing t0 g0 and tell the 0thers n0w

-- ambiguousAbscondant [AA] ceased trolling twofoldAscendancy [TA] --

It takes you about five minutes to recover, staring at that bright vermillion text.

...Wow. Red blood? That in itself is nothing spectacular, but candy red? Really? That just... It doesn't happen. Ever. At all. If there have ever been any other trolls with Aradia's blood, then they have undoubtedly been culled as grubs. The hemospectrum - a system you personally believe is useless, baseless and totally outdated - sputters and stares at this flagrant violation of its laws. Nothing you were ever schoolfed told you about this.

You've always just kind of assumed Aradia was ashamed of being lowblooded. It never occured to you that it was keeping... her... oh shit.

She can't tell them. She'll be culled, and that seems really really bad to you for reasons that you can't place beyond "hey she's my friend and she shouldn't be culled". Equius would flip his shit for a start - he may be a brown-blood but damn does he get off on the hemospectrum stuff. He would probably be flushed for the hemospectrum if it suddenly became a troll instead of a social concept.

Oh, hang on. Someone's messaging you. You're going to have to postpone that thought.

-- calculatingGrandeur [CG] began trolling twofoldAscendancy [TA] --

CG: OKAY.
CG: WHAT IN THE EVERLOVING FUCK IS GOING ON?
CG: I MEAN SERIOUSLY AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO GIVES A SHIT ABOUT THE HEMOSPECTRUM ANY MORE?
CG: DON'T ANSWER THAT.
CG: YOU'LL JUST BE A SNARKY DOUCHEBAG AS PER USUAL.
TA: je2u2 KK, cool iit
TA: what ha2 you riiled now?
CG: YOUR FUCKING FREAK OF A FRIEND!
CG: I CAN SEE WHY SHE USES THAT GODAWFUL QUIRK NOW
CG: WHAT WITH THE FACT THAT IF SHE HAD SHIT FOR BLOOD SHE'D ACTUALLY BE BETTER OFF
TA: take that back!
TA: AD ii2 not a freak.
CG: OR WHAT, YOU AREN'T GOING TO KILL YOUR MOST TRUSTED ADVISOR.
CG: FACE IT.
TA: ugh
TA: but 2tiill.
TA: 2he'2 not a freak
CG: YES SHE IS.
TA: no 2he ii2n't.
CG: YES SHE IS.
TA: no 2he ii2n't.
CG: YES SHE IS.
TA: thii2 ii2 goiing nowhere fa2t.
TA: talk to me when you're actiing a liittle le22 liike a grub okay.

-- twofoldAscendancy [TA] ceased trolling calculatingGrandeur [CG] --

[ceruleanTresses]

Regarding all the (awesome) alt-blood stuff that's been popular recently, does anyone else think Ghost!Karkat would be basically the most depressing thing in the entire world?

CG: Y0u seem sad and angry all the time.
CG: What d0es anger feel like? I f0rg0t.

...and that Karkatbot would be the best thing in the entire world?

show spoiler

hide spoiler

NEPETA: ::::D < *ac feels a telltale vibration in her web!*
NEPETA: ::::D < *a hapless insect has wandered into her trap!*
KARKATBOT: W0w, that's really fucking creepy.
NEPETA: ::::D < how does it feel????????
KARKATBOT: It feels 0kay. It l00ks like crap, but at least I'm tangible n0w.
KARKATBOT: C0ngratulations, y0u win the prize for n0t c0mpletely screwing this up.
KARKATBOT: I'm s0lemnly pressing the treasured Medal of Adequacy int0 your weird r0b0t claws.
KARKATBOT: Ribbit.
NEPETA: ::::D < that metaphor is really spinning out of control!
NEPETA: ::::D < and thats not even what I meant, silky!
NEPETA: ::::D < i mean, do you feel anything else????????
KARKATBOT: Um...
NEPETA: ::::D < anything that might be relevant to
NEPETA: ::::D < my shipping web?! :::;)
KARKATBOT: I d0n't even kn0w what the hell y0u're talking ab0ut.
NEPETA: ::::D < you dont feel any little flies tugging at your heartstrings?
KARKATBOT: Wait.
KARKATBOT: WHAT THE FUCK.
KARKATBOT: DID Y0U PR0GRAM THIS R0B0T T0
KARKATBOT: 0H MY G0D, I D0N'T EVEN HAVE A PR0TEIN CHUTE YET S0MEH0W I STILL WANT T0 V0MIT.
KARKATBOT: THE FUCK IS WR0NG WITH Y0U?!

Edit: Ahahaha I love that there's a Red!Aradia right above Maroon!Karkat.

[KarneWarrior]

hey look altblood shenanigans involving aradia, aren't i a one trick pony :|

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Your name is ARADIA MEGIDO. You are five sweeps old, and are about to make the WORST MISTAKE OF YOUR ENTIRE LIFE. But you don't know that yet. What you do know is that you have bright red blood, and this is NOT NORMAL. You have known this for sweeps and have always hidden it. Shortly after building your hive - in a RURAL AREA, just to be sure nobody saw you - you came into contact with the HEIR APPARENT, known as SOLLUX CAPTOR. Somehow you kept your blood from him.

Tonight, you are going to tell him. As the heir to the throne of Alternia and your closest friend, he deserves to know. And, hey, maybe it'll show him that he really does need to abolish the hemospectrum, like he says he will. Your trolltag is ambiguousAbscondant and you speak in a self-deprecating manner appr0priate t0 y0ur hide0usly mutant bl00d, even th0ugh n0b0dy kn0ws ab0ut it.

That'll change soon enough. Let's get the freakshow started.

-- ambiguousAbscondant [AA] began trolling twofoldAscendancy [TA] --

AA: s0llux are y0u there?
TA: ye2.
TA: what do you need?
TA: glub.
AA: hehehe
TA: 2tfu ii can't control the glub2.
AA: anyway i just wanted t0 talk
AA: if y0u have the time 0bvi0usly
AA: i mean if you have s0mething m0re imp0rtant t0 be d0ing then i can just leave it f0r later
AA: n0 big deal
TA: whoah waiit a miinute,
TA: hold up.
TA: iif ii diidn't have tiime ii would make tiime.
TA: thii2 2eem2 pretty iimportant, 2o what'2 up?
AA: i, um.
AA: can you keep a secret sollux?
AA: see i even dropped the zeros
TA: of cour2e ii c--
TA: i mean of course i can.
TA: see i'm doing it too.
AA: okay then
AA: well this is awkward to say
AA: but
AA: um

-- ambiguousAbscondant [AA] ceased trolling twofoldAscendancy [TA] --

-- ambiguousAbscondant [AA] began trolling twofoldAscendancy [TA] --

AA: there
AA: this is what i wanted to show you sollux!
TA: wait what?
TA: is that seriously your blood colour?
AA: yes.
AA: i am being completely honest.
AA: all of my cards are on the table, and they are all this freakish mutant candy red.
TA: ...wow.
TA: hold on thii2 really ii2 getting unnatural
TA: 2o. you're a redblood?
AA: yes.
TA: diid you 2crew up on the 2aturatiion 2omehow?
TA: ii mean you don't 2eem like a maroon
AA: n0. this is actually the exact shade 0f my bl00d.
AA: it is definitely this c0l0ur.
AA: i can 0pen up a vein and send y0u a picture 0f it if y0u d0nt believe me!
TA: whoah fuck no that won't be nece22ary at all AD.
TA: ii'm not TZ
TA: ju2t
TA: lemme thiink about thii2 okay
AA: okay.
AA: i am g0ing t0 g0 and tell the 0thers n0w

-- ambiguousAbscondant [AA] ceased trolling twofoldAscendancy [TA] --

It takes you about five minutes to recover, staring at that bright vermillion text.

...Wow. Red blood? That in itself is nothing spectacular, but candy red? Really? That just... It doesn't happen. Ever. At all. If there have ever been any other trolls with Aradia's blood, then they have undoubtedly been culled as grubs. The hemospectrum - a system you personally believe is useless, baseless and totally outdated - sputters and stares at this flagrant violation of its laws. Nothing you were ever schoolfed told you about this.

You've always just kind of assumed Aradia was ashamed of being lowblooded. It never occured to you that it was keeping... her... oh shit.

She can't tell them. She'll be culled, and that seems really really bad to you for reasons that you can't place beyond "hey she's my friend and she shouldn't be culled". Equius would flip his shit for a start - he may be a brown-blood but damn does he get off on the hemospectrum stuff. He would probably be flushed for the hemospectrum if it suddenly became a troll instead of a social concept.

Oh, hang on. Someone's messaging you. You're going to have to postpone that thought.

-- calculatingGrandeur [CG] began trolling twofoldAscendancy [TA] --

CG: OKAY.
CG: WHAT IN THE EVERLOVING FUCK IS GOING ON?
CG: I MEAN SERIOUSLY AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO GIVES A SHIT ABOUT THE HEMOSPECTRUM ANY MORE?
CG: DON'T ANSWER THAT.
CG: YOU'LL JUST BE A SNARKY DOUCHEBAG AS PER USUAL.
TA: je2u2 KK, cool iit
TA: what ha2 you riiled now?
CG: YOUR FUCKING FREAK OF A FRIEND!
CG: I CAN SEE WHY SHE USES THAT GODAWFUL QUIRK NOW
CG: WHAT WITH THE FACT THAT IF SHE HAD SHIT FOR BLOOD SHE'D ACTUALLY BE BETTER OFF
TA: take that back!
TA: AD ii2 not a freak.
CG: OR WHAT, YOU AREN'T GOING TO KILL YOUR MOST TRUSTED ADVISOR.
CG: FACE IT.
TA: ugh
TA: but 2tiill.
TA: 2he'2 not a freak
CG: YES SHE IS.
TA: no 2he ii2n't.
CG: YES SHE IS.
TA: no 2he ii2n't.
CG: YES SHE IS.
TA: thii2 ii2 goiing nowhere fa2t.
TA: talk to me when you're actiing a liittle le22 liike a grub okay.

-- twofoldAscendancy [TA] ceased trolling calculatingGrandeur [CG] --

I hate when I get overshadowed by better fics.

Red Dead Aries? Yes please.

[Graven_Image]

Regarding all the (awesome) alt-blood stuff that's been popular recently, does anyone else think Ghost!Karkat would be basically the most depressing thing in the entire world?

CG: Y0u seem sad and angry all the time.
CG: What d0es anger feel like? I f0rg0t.

...and that Karkatbot would be the best thing in the entire world?

show spoiler

hide spoiler

NEPETA: ::: < *ac feels a telltale vibration in her web!*
NEPETA: ::: < *a hapless insect has wandered into her trap!*
KARKATBOT: W0w, that's really fucking creepy.
NEPETA: ::: < how does it feel????????
KARKATBOT: It feels 0kay. It l00ks like crap, but at least I'm tangible n0w.
KARKATBOT: C0ngratulations, y0u win the prize for n0t c0mpletely screwing this up.
KARKATBOT: I'm s0lemnly pressing the treasured Medal of Adequacy int0 your weird r0b0t claws.
KARKATBOT: Ribbit.
NEPETA: ::: < that metaphor is really spinning out of control!
NEPETA: ::: < and thats not even what I meant, silky!
NEPETA: ::: < i mean, do you feel anything else????????
KARKABOT: Um...
NEPETA: ::: < anything that might be relevant to
NEPETA: ::: < my shipping web?! :::
KARKATBOT: I d0n't even kn0w what the hell y0u're talking about.
NEPETA: ::: < you dont feel any little flies tugging at your heartstrings?
KARKATBOT: Wait.
KARKATBOT: WHAT THE FUCK.
KARKATBOT: DID Y0U PR0GRAM THIS R0B0T T0
KARKATBOT: 0H MY G0D, I D0N'T EVEN HAVE A PR0TEIN CHUTE YET SOMEH0W I STILL WANT T0 V0MIT.
KARKATBOT: THE FUCK IS WR0NG WITH YOU?!

HAHAHA, oh man. Karkatbot and Spiderpeta must be expanded upon.

They have to be.

[Summergale]

hey look altblood shenanigans involving aradia, aren't i a one trick pony :|

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Your name is ARADIA MEGIDO. You are five sweeps old, and are about to make the WORST MISTAKE OF YOUR ENTIRE LIFE. But you don't know that yet. What you do know is that you have bright red blood, and this is NOT NORMAL. You have known this for sweeps and have always hidden it. Shortly after building your hive - in a RURAL AREA, just to be sure nobody saw you - you came into contact with the HEIR APPARENT, known as SOLLUX CAPTOR. Somehow you kept your blood from him.

Tonight, you are going to tell him. As the heir to the throne of Alternia and your closest friend, he deserves to know. And, hey, maybe it'll show him that he really does need to abolish the hemospectrum, like he says he will. Your trolltag is ambiguousAbscondant and you speak in a self-deprecating manner appr0priate t0 y0ur hide0usly mutant bl00d, even th0ugh n0b0dy kn0ws ab0ut it.

That'll change soon enough. Let's get the freakshow started.

-- ambiguousAbscondant [AA] began trolling twofoldAscendancy [TA] --

AA: s0llux are y0u there?
TA: ye2.
TA: what do you need?
TA: glub.
AA: hehehe
TA: 2tfu ii can't control the glub2.
AA: anyway i just wanted t0 talk
AA: if y0u have the time 0bvi0usly
AA: i mean if you have s0mething m0re imp0rtant t0 be d0ing then i can just leave it f0r later
AA: n0 big deal
TA: whoah waiit a miinute,
TA: hold up.
TA: iif ii diidn't have tiime ii would make tiime.
TA: thii2 2eem2 pretty iimportant, 2o what'2 up?
AA: i, um.
AA: can you keep a secret sollux?
AA: see i even dropped the zeros
TA: of cour2e ii c--
TA: i mean of course i can.
TA: see i'm doing it too.
AA: okay then
AA: well this is awkward to say
AA: but
AA: um

-- ambiguousAbscondant [AA] ceased trolling twofoldAscendancy [TA] --

-- ambiguousAbscondant [AA] began trolling twofoldAscendancy [TA] --

AA: there
AA: this is what i wanted to show you sollux!
TA: wait what?
TA: is that seriously your blood colour?
AA: yes.
AA: i am being completely honest.
AA: all of my cards are on the table, and they are all this freakish mutant candy red.
TA: ...wow.
TA: hold on thii2 really ii2 getting unnatural
TA: 2o. you're a redblood?
AA: yes.
TA: diid you 2crew up on the 2aturatiion 2omehow?
TA: ii mean you don't 2eem like a maroon
AA: n0. this is actually the exact shade 0f my bl00d.
AA: it is definitely this c0l0ur.
AA: i can 0pen up a vein and send y0u a picture 0f it if y0u d0nt believe me!
TA: whoah fuck no that won't be nece22ary at all AD.
TA: ii'm not TZ
TA: ju2t
TA: lemme thiink about thii2 okay
AA: okay.
AA: i am g0ing t0 g0 and tell the 0thers n0w

-- ambiguousAbscondant [AA] ceased trolling twofoldAscendancy [TA] --

It takes you about five minutes to recover, staring at that bright vermillion text.

...Wow. Red blood? That in itself is nothing spectacular, but candy red? Really? That just... It doesn't happen. Ever. At all. If there have ever been any other trolls with Aradia's blood, then they have undoubtedly been culled as grubs. The hemospectrum - a system you personally believe is useless, baseless and totally outdated - sputters and stares at this flagrant violation of its laws. Nothing you were ever schoolfed told you about this.

You've always just kind of assumed Aradia was ashamed of being lowblooded. It never occured to you that it was keeping... her... oh shit.

She can't tell them. She'll be culled, and that seems really really bad to you for reasons that you can't place beyond "hey she's my friend and she shouldn't be culled". Equius would flip his shit for a start - he may be a brown-blood but damn does he get off on the hemospectrum stuff. He would probably be flushed for the hemospectrum if it suddenly became a troll instead of a social concept.

Oh, hang on. Someone's messaging you. You're going to have to postpone that thought.

-- calculatingGrandeur [CG] began trolling twofoldAscendancy [TA] --

CG: OKAY.
CG: WHAT IN THE EVERLOVING FUCK IS GOING ON?
CG: I MEAN SERIOUSLY AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO GIVES A SHIT ABOUT THE HEMOSPECTRUM ANY MORE?
CG: DON'T ANSWER THAT.
CG: YOU'LL JUST BE A SNARKY DOUCHEBAG AS PER USUAL.
TA: je2u2 KK, cool iit
TA: what ha2 you riiled now?
CG: YOUR FUCKING FREAK OF A FRIEND!
CG: I CAN SEE WHY SHE USES THAT GODAWFUL QUIRK NOW
CG: WHAT WITH THE FACT THAT IF SHE HAD SHIT FOR BLOOD SHE'D ACTUALLY BE BETTER OFF
TA: take that back!
TA: AD ii2 not a freak.
CG: OR WHAT, YOU AREN'T GOING TO KILL YOUR MOST TRUSTED ADVISOR.
CG: FACE IT.
TA: ugh
TA: but 2tiill.
TA: 2he'2 not a freak
CG: YES SHE IS.
TA: no 2he ii2n't.
CG: YES SHE IS.
TA: no 2he ii2n't.
CG: YES SHE IS.
TA: thii2 ii2 goiing nowhere fa2t.
TA: talk to me when you're actiing a liittle le22 liike a grub okay.

-- twofoldAscendancy [TA] ceased trolling calculatingGrandeur [CG] --

I hate when I get overshadowed by better fics.

Red Dead Aries? Yes please.

Better?

Pfft. Also Red Dead Aries makes me uncomfortable, I already feel like way too fucking much of this is taken from RDV.

(also damnit cT stop making me want to shuffle about the bloodline to make Nepeta the cobalt-blood)

[Megafire]

Regarding all the (awesome) alt-blood stuff that's been popular recently, does anyone else think Ghost!Karkat would be basically the most depressing thing in the entire world?

CG: Y0u seem sad and angry all the time.
CG: What d0es anger feel like? I f0rg0t.

...and that Karkatbot would be the best thing in the entire world?

show spoiler

hide spoiler

NEPETA: ::: < *ac feels a telltale vibration in her web!*
NEPETA: ::: < *a hapless insect has wandered into her trap!*
KARKATBOT: W0w, that's really fucking creepy.
NEPETA: ::: < how does it feel????????
KARKATBOT: It feels 0kay. It l00ks like crap, but at least I'm tangible n0w.
KARKATBOT: C0ngratulations, y0u win the prize for n0t c0mpletely screwing this up.
KARKATBOT: I'm s0lemnly pressing the treasured Medal of Adequacy int0 your weird r0b0t claws.
KARKATBOT: Ribbit.
NEPETA: ::: < that metaphor is really spinning out of control!
NEPETA: ::: < and thats not even what I meant, silky!
NEPETA: ::: < i mean, do you feel anything else????????
KARKATBOT: Um...
NEPETA: ::: < anything that might be relevant to
NEPETA: ::: < my shipping web?! :::
KARKATBOT: I d0n't even kn0w what the hell y0u're talking ab0ut.
NEPETA: ::: < you dont feel any little flies tugging at your heartstrings?
KARKATBOT: Wait.
KARKATBOT: WHAT THE FUCK.
KARKATBOT: DID Y0U PR0GRAM THIS R0B0T T0
KARKATBOT: 0H MY G0D, I D0N'T EVEN HAVE A PR0TEIN CHUTE YET SOMEH0W I STILL WANT T0 V0MIT.
KARKATBOT: THE FUCK IS WR0NG WITH Y0U?!

Edit: Ahahaha I love that there's a Red!Aradia right above Maroon!Karkat.

That was absolutely hilarious.

[Douhneill]

So I've been reading a bunch of these alt sessions, and I figured I might give it a shot.

Knight of Purpose

show spoiler

hide spoiler

0 days, 0 hours, 0 minutes, 0 seconds

Heh, another long day of wasting my time. At least today I get to play something with my friends. God, I hate life. Why does the only time I feel wanted or useful in any way only happen in situations like games that don't actually matter? No wonder I never leave the computer unless I'm working.


0 days, 1 hour, 12 minutes, 37 seconds

Okay, so this game is way cooler than any of us could have expected. I love it here. I'm actually doing something. Something useful. Something with purpose. Everything in my life so far has lead me to this. I just hope I don't mess up.


0 days, 4 hours, 44 minutes, 20 seconds

This land, of people and opportunities, I hate it. Why would I be okay with a world that reminded me of everything that never happened in the years before I started this game? I don't like people. I don't like the outside world. Just me and my friends. That's all I need.


2 days, 3 hours, 2 minutes, 19 seconds

I find it funny that we're taking this game so slow. Aren't we kinda racing the clock to make sure that Derse doesn't win the war or something? At least Travis is finally in the game. Now everyone's safe. Safe and helping. We all have a role to play.


5 days, 20 hours, 28 minutes, 55 seconds

I don't understand this place. Everywhere I look I'm reminded of things from my past. School events I never went to, clubs I never joined, parties and games and meetings I never cared for. I hate it. These things never meant anything to me. I never liked them. I never wanted these things to be a part of my life! I don't have any use for them! I hate this stupid world! I want to go home and change things! Let my life have some kind of impact on people!


10 days, 10 hours, 3 minutes, 6 seconds

I can't believe these guys still see me as their leader. I'm flattered, but I don't think I'm leader material. I'm just looking for something to make of this shitstorm we got ourselves into.


15 days, 9 hours, 46 minutes, 1 second

This bed... I recognize this symbol. It's my time. My purpose.


17 days, 4 hours, 18 minutes, 53 seconds

I've been thinking about the group and what we're going to do once we're all done. I mean, we've got our purpose here now, but what about after? What does our purpose become? I don't know how to be strong for the group if I don't know what to hold to.


17 days, 5 hours, 57 minutes, 12 seconds

Talking to Maria was a good idea. I have something to hold on to once this all goes away.


21 days, 0 hours, 0 minutes, 0 seconds

God it's good to see everyone together again for the first time in almost a month. Jason's got our gameplan all set up, we're all going out in a few hours or so. There's no way we're losing today. Not now that we've found our purpose. This is our time. Our life. Our goal. Our world.


21 days, 2 hours, 5 minutes, 39 seconds

Oh, shit.