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

[mutecebu]

As always, this thread rocks

Lantadyme: I love everything you write
Septimus: Hurray for your fic! It was great. A little deus-ex-machina-y, but really really great.
Red Pen: I love the no-sburb troll story!
Graven: I think you got Iji's voice just right in the first half of the fic. Also, you've made me spend many hours of my life playing indie games, including IWTBTG, Braid, Spelunky (even though he's not included), and most recently Iji.
Wizardstuck and Mythstucksters are both great!

There are many other great fics here, but alas I cannot recall any more.

EDIT: oh yeah, I love Robo!Karkat

[Embargo]

Warning: Genre whiplash ahead. Also, trolls apparently don't speak with quirks until their sixth sweep.

show spoiler

hide spoiler

"A poor general demantz to be involved with hitz commandertz' every detzitzion. An adequate general ordertz hitz commandertz to keep him informed. An excellent general trutzttz his commandertz to do their duty, atz they trutzt him to do hitz."
—Troll Sun Tzu, War: Quintetzzentze of Trolldom

Redblood sighed. Though the Sepulchral Fluid Rage could make Trollbert Einstein spin in his cullbox when moving at top speed, hunting down Dualscar would take time. Honkclub's information could only offer the last known position of the Orphaner's ship. From there, it would be up to the trio of assassins to track the effluvion signature to wherever their gilled bounty had hidden himself.
This was a routine aspect of eliminating the High Subjugglugator's undesirables, and as such, neither pilot nor processor would need the Exilarch's input unless a problem arose. This left him with little to do but think. Think, and remember.

"In battle, catzte itz incontzequentzial. Obey only the chain of command. Even the will of the Emperetzz Hertzelf itz letzz important if tzhe itz not your commanding offitzer."
—Troll Sun Tzu, Inditzpentzible Witzdom for the Common Tzoldier, unexpurgated version

Vitrolus's first memory was of his lusus. This was not uncommon among trolls whose lusus were roughly the size of an adolescent or smaller, but it was still special to Vitrolus because it was, for a time, one of the few things that could indisputably be said to be his. He had endured adolescence in a densely packed communal hivestem, forced to share almost everything with anyone and everyone able to take it. A few other children called the situation barely better than the wriggler trials, and only distinguishable from them because the contenders had pupated.
Amazingly, his aberrant blood color was not known until about halfway through his second sweep. During a particularly chaotic and frenzied contest for a stuffed animal, his opponent had bitten him. Shocked by the sudden focused sharpness of the pain (rather than the somewhat more diffuse variety caused by punches and shoves,) Vitrolus had released the ragged plaything. Rather than gloat, the biter had stared at the drops of crimson coaxed out of her opponent's arm. The hemospectrum was one of the first things on the schoolfeeding menurriculum, and as the young boy himself had already known, nowhere on it was his own blood's hue.
To his astonishment, the girl paused, mouth open, an awkward question clearly on her lips. She then blinked, saw the toy in her hands, misshapen though it was by the earlier struggle, gave her adversary a gloating grin, and toddled away. A hand on Vitrolus's shoulder drew his attention from the twin concerns of his outlier body fluids and the loss of the plushie. He turned and beheld a boy his age, with twice the usual number of horns and eye colors. The new boy smiled. "Hi."
That was the day Vitrolus first met the only people he would ever consider friends. He and Winiel connected immediately, their friendship galvanized by the juvenile crusade against the different that is as universal as John Cussack. Each backed up the other: Vitrolus intimidated those who would try mocking the shy tetracorn, while Winiel simply erased the memory of anyone who discovered the mutant's blood color before it could become long-term.
It was not until both boys were approaching their fourth wriggling day that they encountered another outcast. Some semblance of order was congealing in that portion of the hivestem by then, a mix of cultural schoolfeeding and the unwritten policies that any social group aggregates over time. While trading anecdotes of lusus stupidity, the chums beheld a girl sitting by herself at the base of the hivestem, her bruises and tears the color of the first warnings of dawn.
Vitrolus had wanted to ignore her, but Winiel again taken the initiative, offering the same quiet greeting he had offered his short-tempered friend. Seeing this, some strange mix of jealousy, pity, and camaraderie drew the brighter redblood to the distraught girl. "Hi," he grunted, a grumpy echo of the earlier salutation.
The girl looked up at them, hope warring with confusion and resignation in her expression. She averted her eyes. "You shouldn't talk to me." Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"Why not?" Winiel had always been the curious one.
"If someone sees you being nice to me, they'll stop talking to you."
Vitrolus shrugged. "They don't talk to us anyway."
"We're freaks," added Winiel, more than a hint of pride in his voice.
"Even freaks shouldn't be with me," muttered the girl, though not with the same conviction as before.
Vitrolus gave this all the consideration he felt it deserved before ruling, "That's stupid." Without a word between them, he and Winiel pulled the girl to her feet. "If you just let them get to you, you've already lost."
Her eyes were still firmly locked on the ground. "But... I'm the lowest there is."
The nub-horned boy gave a snort. "Says who?"
"I checked. Everyone in the stem's got better blood than me." Her tears began flowing anew, like streams of liquid rust. "And- and now that I checked, they all know."
Winiel turned to Vitrolus. "I don't remember anyone asking me about blood. You?"
The other boy bit back a laugh. "Not her."
The young psychic grinned. "Is it OK with you?"
Vitrolus hesitated. Freak solidarity was one thing, the secret of his life was another. And yet, something in that distraught face resonated in him. He nodded, not trusting his voice, and bit his arm. Holding it out before the girl, he simply said, "Look."
She did. Her eyes widened. Her gaze kept moving between his face and his wound, as though the two simply couldn't go together. Finally, still looking shocked, she exclaimed, "It's you!"
Both boys were briefly struck dumb. Neither had thought such a loud sound could've come from someone who'd been so quiet until now. "I'm who?" Vitrolus finally asked.
"You're that boy from... oh, it must have been sweeps ago by now. I thought you were a dream or something!" She turned to Winiel as though just realizing he was there. "And you! You're the other one! With the weird eyes that made my brain itch!"
The psychic chuckled awkwardly "Yeah, I kind of do that."
Half-faded memories came together for Vitrolus. "You- you're that girl who first..." He stopped himself. Really, even the biting had been a dumb idea in so public a place, but she was crying, and Winiel had already gone over! What could he have done?
He started over. "I'm Vitrolus, and the brain-itcher there is Winiel. Who are you?"
She smiled. Even with the tears, it really was a very pretty smile. "Hecate." She gave a small laugh. It was pretty, too. "Can... can I be a freak?"
"I think we can arrange something." The nub-horned boy managed to hold the imperious expression for all of two seconds before all three young trolls burst into laughter.

"Plan for every potzzibility you can think of, and know that you will tztill be fatzed with the unexpected."
—Assembled Teachings of Troll Sun Tzu, trans. Grubtongue

"we have arrived."
Redblood shook himself from the nostalgic revery. To his surprise, he'd managed to lose himself to memory to the point where he hadn't even noticed the landing. "ACKNOWLEDGED." He then realized he hadn't switched the channel to two-way, cursed, did so, and repeated himself. After a moment, he added, "WHERE ARE WE, ANYWAY?"
"according to astr0metrics, the l0cal star 0nly has a registrati0n number. we are 0n its f0urth planet."
"HABITABILITY?"
"t0lerable. it is currently day. 0ptic p0larizati0n is rec0mmended."
"UNDERSTOOD. ALL HANDS, BY WHICH I MEAN BOTH OF YOU, DISEMBARK."
There came from the comm system a quiet "oh dear."
That had been the Hivehead. "WHAT IS IT?" Redblood wasn't sure whether to emphasize annoyance or concern in his tone, and betrayed both.
"thii2 ii2n't good."
"TALK TO ME, WINIEL." If anyone asked later, this was concern for the welfare of a member of a three-troll crew.
Mercifully, there was no pain, no anxiety, no fear in the reply. Only embarrassment. "ii'm 2orry 2 2ay that ii wiill requiire a22ii22tance iin exiitiing the 2hiip."
The captain took a moment to shift mental gears from concerned friend to exasperated commander. "DID YOU LET THE BEES BUILD A HIVE AROUND YOU AGAIN?"
"the body 2eem2 liike 2uch a triiviial concern when the miind ii2 iinterfaciing wiith the hiiveframe."
"YEAH, YEAH, THAT'S WHAT YOU SAID LAST TIME." Redblood opened the other channel. "HECATE, PLEASE TELL ME THAT YOU MANAGED TO AVOID FUCKING UP GETTING OUT OF THE GODDAMN SHIP."
Graveear answered into her handheld teleweevil. "i am 0utside."
"GOOD. NOW GET BACK IN HERE AND HELP ME FIND THOSE STUPID LOOKING HATS. WE'VE GOT SOME DEBUGGING TO DO IF WE WANT OUR PSION ON THIS LITTLE MURDERDATE."
"ii really am 2orry about thii2."
"APOLOGIES AREN'T REMOVING THE IMPERIAL FUCKTONS OF WAX AND IRATE TRANSISTORS, DOOMGAZE." With that, the Exilarch closed the audio channels and rose from his chair. Anyone who says that he wiped twin trails of pale rose from his eyes en route is a goddamn liar.

EDIT: Oh Gog, why is this a page topper...

Because its beautiful...

So, so beautiful.

[Jim Groovester]

The Sapphire of Alternia, Part 13

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Problem Sleuth and Pickle Inspector walk to Inspector’s car. He opens the driver side door. “I wonder what the Sapphire of Alternia really is.” Inspector says, grinning at the possibilities.

“It’s probably a stupid boring piece of crap.”

Inspector and Sleuth get in and Inspector starts driving. “Perhaps it is a rare material that can be refined into the fuel that powers the starships of the dead civilization. Wealthy Quantifier must be protecting it so that it will not fall into the wrong hands, who would use it for their own nefarious purposes!”

Sleuth props his head on his hand as Inspector wildly imagines things. “What purposes?” He asks unenthusiastically.

“Perhaps they want to create a death ray, or perhaps a bomb of immense power! They could hold the whole city hostage!” Inspector finishes. “We have to stop them!” He turns eagerly toward Problem Sleuth.

“But if they destroy the city there won’t be anything left. And they wouldn’t get what they wanted anyway.”

Inspector opens his mouth to refute Sleuth’s point but a moment later slumps slightly. “You make an excellent point.” He admits. “Then perhaps the Sapphire of Alternia is a key to an ancient cache of dangerous knowledge that was sealed by the dead civilization to prevent the catastrophic results of its propagation!”

“Dammit, just shut up.”

“And Wealthy Quantifier must protect it so that unwitting knowledge seekers do not loose its secrets!”

The ride to Sleuth’s apartment continues with Pickle Inspector coming up with virtually every potential possibility of what the Sapphire of Alternia could be. It’s a magic necklace that protects its wearer from all harm. It’s a necklace belonging to an ancient cult of undead worshipers that allows entry to its inner circle. It’s a compass that leads the way to a paradise city nestled in a secluded mountain valley. It’s a charm that holds an entity that will grant three cursed wishes. And whatever the possibility, Wealthy Quantifier must be protecting it so that whatever awful thing that makes it dangerous doesn’t happen.

==>

This is why you always tell Pickle Inspector as much information as possible.

It leaves no room to the imagination.

Pickle Inspector pulls up to Sleuth’s apartment. “Then if it isn’t any of those, then it must be the final critical piece to a doomsday robot!”

Problem Sleuth gets out of the car. “Goodnight, Inspector,” He says, ignoring what Inspector’s saying. Inspector drives off, continuing to theorize to himself. Sleuth heads up to the stairs of his apartment. He enters his apartment, goes to his bedroom and flops on his bed.

As he’s about to fall asleep, the phone rings. Sleuth grabs the phone.

“Sleuth!” The other end shouts. “It’s Pickle Inspector. I just got home, and I think I know what the Sapphire of Alternia is!”

Problem Sleuth hangs up.

Problem Sleuth wakes up hours later. He gets out of bed and moves to the kitchen. He sleepily grabs something from the refrigerator and stuffs it in his mouth. He looks down at his clothes. He’s making a pretty bad habit of falling asleep in his clothes.

Problem Sleuth walks to the bathroom.

==>

Is that a five o’clock shadow?

You have no idea what a five o’clock shadow is, but you think all that the dark patch covering the lower half of your face might be it.

Or maybe it’s just dirt and grime. You wipe it off and then take a shower.

Problem Sleuth walks out of the shower and into his bedroom. He opens his small closet.

Problem Sleuth: Pick out clothes.

You have a closet full of your favorite clothing items. Suits, trench coats, clean socks, and multiple pairs of shoes. You have no variety in clothing because you can not imagine wearing anything else besides what you normally do.

In order to be the top problem sleuth in the city, you have to look the part. This is why your closet is stuffed full of redundant clothing. On long investigations like the one you’re on, it pays to look like you’re ready to fill some surly thugs full of new keyholes, even if you don’t get the chance to do laundry. That way, you can always look ready to give a mean right hook instead of looking like you’ve taken several already.

Your allies have learned this the hard way and they’re finally starting to catch on.

==>

You throw a fresh suit and coat onto your bed and then look for your wait a second where’s your BACKUP HAT dammit you can’t find it it’s not in your closet anywhere.

Fortunately your candy corn is stashed safely in your normal hat oh dammit that’s missing too.

Today’s goi-

Problem Sleuth’s internal monologue is interrupted by the phone ringing. He walks towards it and picks it up.

“Sleuth, it’s Repressor.” The man on the other end greets.

“Just the man I wanted to talk to.”

“Really?”

“No.”

“I figured.” Repressor says. “Just a heads up: Sleuth, I had to let the fanghounds off their leashes this morning. There’s a warrant out for your arrest. If you see any cops, they’ll throw your ass in the slammer.”

Sleuth puts his hand on his hip. “I thought I had a week.” He protests.

“I’m sorry, Sleuth. I told you a week, maybe less. I’ve got a lot of pressure from on high and from the men in my unit. They want this case closed. I can’t stall them any longer.”

“I thought you were gonna stick up for me. Give me time while you tried to pin me for a murder you asked me to look into.” Sleuth says annoyed.

Sleuth can tell Repressor is shrugging on the other end. “I did. I gave you as much time as I could.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“This is me sticking up for you, Sleuth. I could lose my job for this. I know you didn’t kill that man, but if anybody can find out who did it’s going to be you.”

Sleuth sighs. “Thanks for the heads up, Repressor. It’s always a pleasure working with the thin blue line.”

“That’s not all, Sleuth.” He says. “Cops are headed to your apartment and office. I’d get out of there if I were you, and damn quick.”

Sleuth glances at his clothes. “Alright. I’ll call you if I find anything.”

“And, Sleuth,” Repressor says. “Don’t beat up too many cops. It looks bad for the force if everybody’s got a black eye because of you.” He says as he hangs up.

Sleuth starts throwing on clothes. Fresh suit, fresh coat, dirty hat. Everything in the dirty coat into the fresh one. And he’s out the door. As he closes it he listens. Two cops are chatting to each other as they walk up the stairs to the corridor. He walks down the opposite way and turns a corner. He peers around, keeping himself hid.

“Is this the place?” One cop asks the other as they get to Sleuth’s door.

“Yeah, should be. Anarchy Repressor said the door’s always unlocked.” The other responds. The bastard told them that? Bastard. Never a favor again.

“Who does that? Doesn’t he know that’s not safe?”

“Hey, this guy carries enough firepower to give the Felt and the Midnight Crew trouble.” One cop says. “Let’s try to remember that here.”

They open the door with their guns drawn. They enter in, searching the place. Sleuth takes the opportunity and walks quickly past his door to his staircase.

“There he is!”

Problem Sleuth breaks into a run. Dammit, just what he needs, to get chased by the police. Because then they call backup and pretty soon the whole place is crawling with them and they can look in every building and make perimeters and generally make escaping their notice difficult.

Problem Sleuth descends the stairs rapidly, pushing aside somebody trying to get down. “Freeze!” One of the cops shouts. Problem Sleuth keeps running. A bullet lands on the floor beside him.

And then they’re trying to shoot him!

Problem Sleuth runs out the door, past the parked cop car, and dashes across the street, dodging the morning rush hour traffic. He slides over the hood of a stopped car and ducks into an alley. The cops yell behind him. He runs into the maze of alleys and turns several corners. He’s greeted by a dead end. He looks around for an exit, but finds none. He peers around the corner leading out of the trap he led himself into.

One cop is running after him with his gun drawn. His partner must be calling for backup at the car. Problem Sleuth hides behind the corner and waits for his opportunity.

Problem Sleuth: Convince the cop to stop following you.

You use Sleuth Diplomacy Lv. 6: OPEN NEGOTIATIONS.

You maneuver him into a weak negotiating position by bringing his face and your fist together into mutual accord.

The city’s finest have glass jaws, looks like. It only took one punch.

Problem Sleuth shoves his hands in his coat pocket and searches for the exit to the maze of alleys. He finds one that leads him away from the cop car. Problem Sleuth starts walking down the street with his head down.

Now that he’s got some breathing room it’s time to think about what to do. Problem Sleuth can’t help but think about what Wealthy Quantifier said. Somebody killed the courier, took the Sapphire of Alternia, and robbed Quantifier’s house. And it’s not the usual suspects. If it’s not them, then who? Quantifier said Sleuth knew more about them than either the Midnight Crew or the Felt. If that’s true, then he has the advantage on both of them in finding out where it is. The problem is, he can’t for the life of him think of whatever detail is supposed to make it clear who took it. Wealthy Quantifier should really work on being so damn mysterious all the time. It’s an incredibly annoying habit.

Somebody has to have noticed this other party around. Sleuth thinks about who might know that, but more who’s willing to even talk to him right now. He can’t go to the police, because they’re trying to arrest him. The Felt are starting a gang war for the Sapphire of Alternia so they probably won’t be too receptive to outreaches by Problem Sleuth.

The Midnight Crew knows less than the Felt right now. Spades Slick told Problem Sleuth he’d gut him and let all his blood and innards run into a storm drain if he looked any more into the murder or what the Felt were getting into. Not in so many words, of course, but the message was clear. Although, threats like that are just a formality, really. Kind of like Spades Slick’s way of saying hello. If Problem Sleuth has information, they’ll be willing to take it, and might even be willing to exchange information for it. It’s not ideal. But it’s the only thing Problem Sleuth can think of. He starts making his way towards the Midnight Crew’s hideout.

It’s not too far a walk from Problem Sleuth’s apartment. After about an hour of walking he reaches the entrance to the hideout. It’s a manhole cover tucked in an alley. It would be suicide to go down that way. The Midnight Crew would kill him if they found out he knew where their hideout was. They have their suspicions, of course, but they hang out enough at the bar that connects to their secret hideout that Problem Sleuth avoids getting a bullet in the back of his neck for coming here.

He looks at the bar. Dingy little place in the middle of a bad neighborhood. Diamonds Droog doesn’t let anything the Midnight Crew runs look ugly if he can help it. So the appearance is deliberate. It keeps people away. Problem Sleuth opens the door and heads inside.

The bartender gives him a dirty look, as does Hearts Boxcars sitting at the bar. Diamonds Droog doesn’t look up from his paper from his booth, but does put a card on the table. Clubs Deuce is walking between the two, asking inane questions and generally annoying them both.

Boxcars stands up from his stool and walks right up to Sleuth. Problem Sleuth cranes his neck looking at the man towering above him. “WHADDAYA WANT SLEUTH” Boxcars says with a deep growl.

“To talk to you, big guy.” Sleuth says. “I’ve got a problem. With a girl.”

Boxcars’ face lightens up to an almost-smile. “WELL WHY DIDNT YA JUST SAY SO” Boxcars grabs Sleuth by the collar and sits him on a stool. Boxcars sits next to him and looks him eagerly in the eye. “WHATS ON YER MIND SLEUTH”

Droog sighs heavily.

“So, there’s this girl. You might know her. She’s part of the gang who tried to shoot all of us yesterday.” Sleuth says, watching Boxcars almost-smile turn to the familiar scowl. “And I know what she’s looking for.”

Droog’s paper lowers slightly. Deuce stops pacing in his tracks. “Deuce,” Droog says. “Get Slick.”

“BUT HE SAID HE WAS SLEEPING IN AND IF ANYBODY TRIED TO WAKE HIM UP HE’D STICK A KNIFE IN THEIR GULLET.” Deuce protests.

“Exactly why I’m sending you.” Droog says. Deuce frowns and heads to the back of the bar. “He’ll miss you if you duck.” Droog says as Deuce heads through the door.

“I CANT BELIEVE YA DID THIS TO ME SLEUTH” Boxcars shakes his head. “IF YA EVER WANNA TALK GIRL TROUBLE FER REAL ILL BE THERE FOR YA” Boxcars says. He gets off the stool and sits across from Droog in the booth.

“Thanks, Boxcars.” Sleuth says.

The door to the back of the bar slams open. Spades Slick is rubbing his eyes. He’s not wearing his hat or a shirt under his coat. He walks over to Droog. “what did you send that little moron to wake me up for”

“Did you kill him?” Droog asks, not looking up from his paper.

“no” Slick says. “the bastard ducked”

Droog points to Problem Sleuth. “Blame him.”

Sleuth gives an eager smile, points a finger Slick, and clicks his mouth. “Up bright and early, aren’t ya?”

Slick growls. “coffee” He barks to the bartender. Slick takes a seat at the bar next to Sleuth. “what the fuck do you want”

“You any closer to finding out what the Felt are looking for?”

The bartender gives Slick a scalding hot cup of black coffee. “do you think id be sitting here nursing a hangover and talking to you if i was”

“Guess not.” Sleuth chuckles. “You’re lucky. Because I am.” Sleuth says with sudden seriousness. “I know exactly what they’re looking for.”

The attention in the bar turns to Problem Sleuth. Slick glares at Sleuth. “so are you gonna tell me or not” Slick says. “dont make me cut it out of you”

“This isn’t a gift.” Sleuth says. “For what the Felt are looking for, I want something of my own.”

Slick takes a sip from his coffee. “what”

“You know I’m a wanted man for murder. I bet you’ve got a hand in that somehow.” Sleuth says. Slick grunts. “I want everything you know about who killed the courier. I need to clear my name.”

Slick puts his coffee on the bar. “im not really in a trading mood right now” Slick says. “tie him up and throw him somewhere” He says to Droog and Boxcars.

“A word with you, Slick.” Droog says, standing up from his seat and walking over to Slick. Sleuth can’t figure out exactly what they’re saying through their whispers but he has a pretty good idea. Slick, we’re not interested in the courier anymore, so that’s information we can trade away. So what? I want to watch this fucker bleed for waking me up. I know. But it’s a good trade. We both we get what we want and we don’t have to dump a body somewhere. Goddammit, I hate it when you’re right, because you’re always right. I could still go for dumping some bodies. That would cheer me up. We can do that later. We’ve got some of the Felt’s bookies we can deal with.

Droog walks back to his booth. Slick turns on his stool and faces Sleuth. “alright” He says. “you first” Slick takes a sip from his coffee.

“The Felt are looking for the Sapphire of Alternia.”

Slick tips too much coffee into his mouth and starts swearing. “fuck give a guy some warning before you tell me theyre looking for that” Slick shouts. “i nearly burnt my fucking tongue off dammit”

That never gets old. Maybe when Sleuth knows what it is he’ll start understanding why everybody gets so surprised about it.

Droog stands up and walks next to Slick. “How do you know?” He asks Sleuth.

“I heard it from Crowbar himself.”

“do they have it yet” Slick says. “tell me those miserable green motherfuckers dont have it yet”

“By nightfall yesterday, no.”

“deuce boxcars get ready were leaving soon” Slick barks. “droog handle sleuth would you i need to get dressed” Boxcars and Deuce spring into activity behind him. Boxcars throws his Wrathtub on the bar floor and starts rummaging through its contents.

Slick walks to the back of the bar. Droog nods to Slick, turns to face Sleuth and folds his arms. “When did they start looking?” Droog asks.

“Wealthy Quantifier got robbed, did you hear? Crowbar told me Snowman ordered them to start looking for the Sapphire of Alternia as soon as she knew.”

Droog’s eyes narrow. “What are they talking to you for?” Droog asks.

Sleuth shrugs. “For some reason they thought I knew where it was.” Sleuth takes off his hat and points to the gashes on his head. “This is what I got for telling the truth. Crowbar’s crowbar. Ever been on the business end of it? He has a way of prying secrets from people with it.”

Droog glowers. "There's something you're not telling me."

“This was a trade, remember? I need to clear my name. What do you know about who killed the courier?”

Droog stays silent for a moment. “We don’t know anything.”

Sleuth slumps. “Come on. You’re Diamonds Droog. You’ve got a web of informants covering half the city. There isn’t a thing that goes on this town that you don’t find out. You have to know something, anything. Anything even slightly out of the ordinary at all. I’m starved for leads here.”

“Sorry. We don’t know anything.” Droog unfolds his arms and starts walking away. He stops, and then looks over his shoulder. “You know what your colleagues are up to?”

“You mean Dick and Inspector?”

“No, the ones you hate.”

“You mean my competitors.” Sleuth says. “I don’t keep tabs on those amateurs.”

“I hear they’re making themselves unavailable and working on something together.”

Sleuth raises a brow. “That’s not so unusual.”

“That’s what I thought. But they’re missing all at the same time?” Droog asks rhetorically. “No, something’s up. I don’t know why I told you this just now. It only crossed my mind when you asked.” Droog says. “Now get out of here. We’re about to get to work.” Droog chillily says.

Problem Sleuth hops off the stool. “Tell Slick I said thanks.” He says as he walks out the door. Problem Sleuth shoves his hands in his pockets and waits outside for a moment. The Midnight Cruiser jumps out of the alley next to the bar and screeches onto the street. Spades Slick leans out the window shouting profanities at traffic. Didn’t that thing get shot up? Maybe they had another somewhere.

As Sleuth’s eye follows the Crew’s car down the street, he catches sight of something. A man in a car staring at him.

Problem Sleuth: Talk things over.

Oh, you’ll talk things over with him.

You’ve got the key to a perfect discussion right here.

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Who's that in the car, I wonder?

Private detectives being missing and unavailable for some reason is something I had planned but should have worked into the story earlier. Another edit that I'm going to have to make to polish up this story.

This segment's kind of long, because I think I screwed up the pacing a little bit. The mystery of who's watching Sleuth will have to wait for the next segment.

[mienrose]

@Jim: Sapphire of Alternia is definitely one of my favourite stories being written on the thread right now. I really love the way you merge the noirish present-tense prose and the more adventurish commands and dialogue. It's clever and funny and really really cool. I'm excited to see where it goes!

[Embargo]

The Sapphire of Alternia, Part 13

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Problem Sleuth and Pickle Inspector walk to Inspector’s car. He opens the driver side door. “I wonder what the Sapphire of Alternia really is.” Inspector says, grinning at the possibilities.

“It’s probably a stupid boring piece of crap.”

Inspector and Sleuth get in and Inspector starts driving. “Perhaps it is a rare material that can be refined into the fuel that powers the starships of the dead civilization. Wealthy Quantifier must be protecting it so that it will not fall into the wrong hands, who would use it for their own nefarious purposes!”

Sleuth props his head on his hand as Inspector wildly imagines things. “What purposes?” He asks unenthusiastically.

“Perhaps they want to create a death ray, or perhaps a bomb of immense power! They could hold the whole city hostage!” Inspector finishes. “We have to stop them!” He turns eagerly toward Problem Sleuth.

“But if they destroy the city there won’t be anything left. And they wouldn’t get what they wanted anyway.”

Inspector opens his mouth to refute Sleuth’s point but a moment later slumps slightly. “You make an excellent point.” He admits. “Then perhaps the Sapphire of Alternia is a key to an ancient cache of dangerous knowledge that was sealed by the dead civilization to prevent the catastrophic results of its propagation!”

“Dammit, just shut up.”

“And Wealthy Quantifier must protect it so that unwitting knowledge seekers do not loose its secrets!”

The ride to Sleuth’s apartment continues with Pickle Inspector coming up with virtually every potential possibility of what the Sapphire of Alternia could be. It’s a magic necklace that protects its wearer from all harm. It’s a necklace belonging to an ancient cult of undead worshipers that allows entry to its inner circle. It’s a compass that leads the way to a paradise city nestled in a secluded mountain valley. It’s a charm that holds an entity that will grant three cursed wishes. And whatever the possibility, Wealthy Quantifier must be protecting it so that whatever awful thing that makes it dangerous doesn’t happen.

==>

This is why you always tell Pickle Inspector as much information as possible.

It leaves no room to the imagination.

Pickle Inspector pulls up to Sleuth’s apartment. “Then if it isn’t any of those, then it must be the final critical piece to a doomsday robot!”

Problem Sleuth gets out of the car. “Goodnight, Inspector,” He says, ignoring what Inspector’s saying. Inspector drives off, continuing to theorize to himself. Sleuth heads up to the stairs of his apartment. He enters his apartment, goes to his bedroom and flops on his bed.

As he’s about to fall asleep, the phone rings. Sleuth grabs the phone.

“Sleuth!” The other end shouts. “It’s Pickle Inspector. I just got home, and I think I know what the Sapphire of Alternia is!”

Problem Sleuth hangs up.

Problem Sleuth wakes up hours later. He gets out of bed and moves to the kitchen. He sleepily grabs something from the refrigerator and stuffs it in his mouth. He looks down at his clothes. He’s making a pretty bad habit of falling asleep in his clothes.

Problem Sleuth walks to the bathroom.

==>

Is that a five o’clock shadow?

You have no idea what a five o’clock shadow is, but you think all that the dark patch covering the lower half of your face might be it.

Or maybe it’s just dirt and grime. You wipe it off and then take a shower.

Problem Sleuth walks out of the shower and into his bedroom. He opens his small closet.

Problem Sleuth: Pick out clothes.

You have a closet full of your favorite clothing items. Suits, trench coats, clean socks, and multiple pairs of shoes. You have no variety in clothing because you can not imagine wearing anything else besides what you normally do.

In order to be the top problem sleuth in the city, you have to look the part. This is why your closet is stuffed full of redundant clothing. On long investigations like the one you’re on, it pays to look like you’re ready to fill some surly thugs full of new keyholes, even if you don’t get the chance to do laundry. That way, you can always look ready to give a mean right hook instead of looking like you’ve taken several already.

Your allies have learned this the hard way and they’re finally starting to catch on.

==>

You throw a fresh suit and coat onto your bed and then look for your wait a second where’s your BACKUP HAT dammit you can’t find it it’s not in your closet anywhere.

Fortunately your candy corn is stashed safely in your normal hat oh dammit that’s missing too.

Today’s goi-

Problem Sleuth’s internal monologue is interrupted by the phone ringing. He walks towards it and picks it up.

“Sleuth, it’s Repressor.” The man on the other end greets.

“Just the man I wanted to talk to.”

“Really?”

“No.”

“I figured.” Repressor says. “Just a heads up: Sleuth, I had to let the fanghounds off their leashes this morning. There’s a warrant out for your arrest. If you see any cops, they’ll throw your ass in the slammer.”

Sleuth puts his hand on his hip. “I thought I had a week.” He protests.

“I’m sorry, Sleuth. I told you a week, maybe less. I’ve got a lot of pressure from on high and from the men in my unit. They want this case closed. I can’t stall them any longer.”

“I thought you were gonna stick up for me. Give me time while you tried to pin me for a murder you asked me to look into.” Sleuth says annoyed.

Sleuth can tell Repressor is shrugging on the other end. “I did. I gave you as much time as I could.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“This is me sticking up for you, Sleuth. I could lose my job for this. I know you didn’t kill that man, but if anybody can find out who did it’s going to be you.”

Sleuth sighs. “Thanks for the heads up, Repressor. It’s always a pleasure working with the thin blue line.”

“That’s not all, Sleuth.” He says. “Cops are headed to your apartment and office. I’d get out of there if I were you, and damn quick.”

Sleuth glances at his clothes. “Alright. I’ll call you if I find anything.”

“And, Sleuth,” Repressor says. “Don’t beat up too many cops. It looks bad for the force if everybody’s got a black eye because of you.” He says as he hangs up.

Sleuth starts throwing on clothes. Fresh suit, fresh coat, dirty hat. Everything in the dirty coat into the fresh one. And he’s out the door. As he closes it he listens. Two cops are chatting to each other as they walk up the stairs to the corridor. He walks down the opposite way and turns a corner. He peers around, keeping himself hid.

“Is this the place?” One cop asks the other as they get to Sleuth’s door.

“Yeah, should be. Anarchy Repressor said the door’s always unlocked.” The other responds. The bastard told them that? Bastard. Never a favor again.

“Who does that? Doesn’t he know that’s not safe?”

“Hey, this guy carries enough firepower to give the Felt and the Midnight Crew trouble.” One cop says. “Let’s try to remember that here.”

They open the door with their guns drawn. They enter in, searching the place. Sleuth takes the opportunity and walks quickly past his door to his staircase.

“There he is!”

Problem Sleuth breaks into a run. Dammit, just what he needs, to get chased by the police. Because then they call backup and pretty soon the whole place is crawling with them and they can look in every building and make perimeters and generally make escaping their notice difficult.

Problem Sleuth descends the stairs rapidly, pushing aside somebody trying to get down. “Freeze!” One of the cops shouts. Problem Sleuth keeps running. A bullet lands on the floor beside him.

And then they’re trying to shoot him!

Problem Sleuth runs out the door, past the parked cop car, and dashes across the street, dodging the morning rush hour traffic. He slides over the hood of a stopped car and ducks into an alley. The cops yell behind him. He runs into the maze of alleys and turns several corners. He’s greeted by a dead end. He looks around for an exit, but finds none. He peers around the corner leading out of the trap he led himself into.

One cop is running after him with his gun drawn. His partner must be calling for backup at the car. Problem Sleuth hides behind the corner and waits for his opportunity.

Problem Sleuth: Convince the cop to stop following you.

You use Sleuth Diplomacy Lv. 6: OPEN NEGOTIATIONS.

You maneuver him into a weak negotiating position by bringing his face and your fist together into mutual accord.

The city’s finest have glass jaws, looks like. It only took one punch.

Problem Sleuth shoves his hands in his coat pocket and searches for the exit to the maze of alleys. He finds one that leads him away from the cop car. Problem Sleuth starts walking down the street with his head down.

Now that he’s got some breathing room it’s time to think about what to do. Problem Sleuth can’t help but think about what Wealthy Quantifier said. Somebody killed the courier, took the Sapphire of Alternia, and robbed Quantifier’s house. And it’s not the usual suspects. If it’s not them, then who? Quantifier said Sleuth knew more about them than either the Midnight Crew or the Felt. If that’s true, then he has the advantage on both of them in finding out where it is. The problem is, he can’t for the life of him think of whatever detail is supposed to make it clear who took it. Wealthy Quantifier should really work on being so damn mysterious all the time. It’s an incredibly annoying habit.

Somebody has to have noticed this other party around. Sleuth thinks about who might know that, but more who’s willing to even talk to him right now. He can’t go to the police, because they’re trying to arrest him. The Felt are starting a gang war for the Sapphire of Alternia so they probably won’t be too receptive to outreaches by Problem Sleuth.

The Midnight Crew knows less than the Felt right now. Spades Slick told Problem Sleuth he’d gut him and let all his blood and innards run into a storm drain if he looked any more into the murder or what the Felt were getting into. Not in so many words, of course, but the message was clear. Although, threats like that are just a formality, really. Kind of like Spades Slick’s way of saying hello. If Problem Sleuth has information, they’ll be willing to take it, and might even be willing to exchange information for it. It’s not ideal. But it’s the only thing Problem Sleuth can think of. He starts making his way towards the Midnight Crew’s hideout.

It’s not too far a walk from Problem Sleuth’s apartment. After about an hour of walking he reaches the entrance to the hideout. It’s a manhole cover tucked in an alley. It would be suicide to go down that way. The Midnight Crew would kill him if they found out he knew where their hideout was. They have their suspicions, of course, but they hang out enough at the bar that connects to their secret hideout that Problem Sleuth avoids getting a bullet in the back of his neck for coming here.

He looks at the bar. Dingy little place in the middle of a bad neighborhood. Diamonds Droog doesn’t let anything the Midnight Crew runs look ugly if he can help it. So the appearance is deliberate. It keeps people away. Problem Sleuth opens the door and heads inside.

The bartender gives him a dirty look, as does Hearts Boxcars sitting at the bar. Diamonds Droog doesn’t look up from his paper from his booth, but does put a card on the table. Clubs Deuce is walking between the two, asking inane questions and generally annoying them both.

Boxcars stands up from his stool and walks right up to Sleuth. Problem Sleuth cranes his neck looking at the man towering above him. “WHADDAYA WANT SLEUTH” Boxcars says with a deep growl.

“To talk to you, big guy.” Sleuth says. “I’ve got a problem. With a girl.”

Boxcars’ face lightens up to an almost-smile. “WELL WHY DIDNT YA JUST SAY SO” Boxcars grabs Sleuth by the collar and sits him on a stool. Boxcars sits next to him and looks him eagerly in the eye. “WHATS ON YER MIND SLEUTH”

Droog sighs heavily.

“So, there’s this girl. You might know her. She’s part of the gang who tried to shoot all of us yesterday.” Sleuth says, watching Boxcars almost-smile turn to the familiar scowl. “And I know what she’s looking for.”

Droog’s paper lowers slightly. Deuce stops pacing in his tracks. “Deuce,” Droog says. “Get Slick.”

“BUT HE SAID HE WAS SLEEPING IN AND IF ANYBODY TRIED TO WAKE HIM UP HE’D STICK A KNIFE IN THEIR GULLET.” Deuce protests.

“Exactly why I’m sending you.” Droog says. Deuce frowns and heads to the back of the bar. “He’ll miss you if you duck.” Droog says as Deuce heads through the door.

“I CANT BELIEVE YA DID THIS TO ME SLEUTH” Boxcars shakes his head. “IF YA EVER WANNA TALK GIRL TROUBLE FER REAL ILL BE THERE FOR YA” Boxcars says. He gets off the stool and sits across from Droog in the booth.

“Thanks, Boxcars.” Sleuth says.

The door to the back of the bar slams open. Spades Slick is rubbing his eyes. He’s not wearing his hat or a shirt under his coat. He walks over to Droog. “what did you send that little moron to wake me up for”

“Did you kill him?” Droog asks, not looking up from his paper.

“no” Slick says. “the bastard ducked”

Droog points to Problem Sleuth. “Blame him.”

Sleuth gives an eager smile, points a finger Slick, and clicks his mouth. “Up bright and early, aren’t ya?”

Slick growls. “coffee” He barks to the bartender. Slick takes a seat at the bar next to Sleuth. “what the fuck do you want”

“You any closer to finding out what the Felt are looking for?”

The bartender gives Slick a scalding hot cup of black coffee. “do you think id be sitting here nursing a hangover and talking to you if i was”

“Guess not.” Sleuth chuckles. “You’re lucky. Because I am.” Sleuth says with sudden seriousness. “I know exactly what they’re looking for.”

The attention in the bar turns to Problem Sleuth. Slick glares at Sleuth. “so are you gonna tell me or not” Slick says. “dont make me cut it out of you”

“This isn’t a gift.” Sleuth says. “For what the Felt are looking for, I want something of my own.”

Slick takes a sip from his coffee. “what”

“You know I’m a wanted man for murder. I bet you’ve got a hand in that somehow.” Sleuth says. Slick grunts. “I want everything you know about who killed the courier. I need to clear my name.”

Slick puts his coffee on the bar. “im not really in a trading mood right now” Slick says. “tie him up and throw him somewhere” He says to Droog and Boxcars.

“A word with you, Slick.” Droog says, standing up from his seat and walking over to Slick. Sleuth can’t figure out exactly what they’re saying through their whispers but he has a pretty good idea. Slick, we’re not interested in the courier anymore, so that’s information we can trade away. So what? I want to watch this fucker bleed for waking me up. I know. But it’s a good trade. We both we get what we want and we don’t have to dump a body somewhere. Goddammit, I hate it when you’re right, because you’re always right. I could still go for dumping some bodies. That would cheer me up. We can do that later. We’ve got some of the Felt’s bookies we can deal with.

Droog walks back to his booth. Slick turns on his stool and faces Sleuth. “alright” He says. “you first” Slick takes a sip from his coffee.

“The Felt are looking for the Sapphire of Alternia.”

Slick tips too much coffee into his mouth and starts swearing. “fuck give a guy some warning before you tell me theyre looking for that” Slick shouts. “i nearly burnt my fucking tongue off dammit”

That never gets old. Maybe when Sleuth knows what it is he’ll start understanding why everybody gets so surprised about it.

Droog stands up and walks next to Slick. “How do you know?” He asks Sleuth.

“I heard it from Crowbar himself.”

“do they have it yet” Slick says. “tell me those miserable green motherfuckers dont have it yet”

“By nightfall yesterday, no.”

“deuce boxcars get ready were leaving soon” Slick barks. “droog handle sleuth would you i need to get dressed” Boxcars and Deuce spring into activity behind him. Boxcars throws his Wrathtub on the bar floor and starts rummaging through its contents.

Slick walks to the back of the bar. Droog nods to Slick, turns to face Sleuth and folds his arms. “When did they start looking?” Droog asks.

“Wealthy Quantifier got robbed, did you hear? Crowbar told me Snowman ordered them to start looking for the Sapphire of Alternia as soon as she knew.”

Droog’s eyes narrow. “What are they talking to you for?” Droog asks.

Sleuth shrugs. “For some reason they thought I knew where it was.” Sleuth takes off his hat and points to the gashes on his head. “This is what I got for telling the truth. Crowbar’s crowbar. Ever been on the business end of it? He has a way of prying secrets from people with it.”

Droog glowers. "There's something you're not telling me."

“This was a trade, remember? I need to clear my name. What do you know about who killed the courier?”

Droog stays silent for a moment. “We don’t know anything.”

Sleuth slumps. “Come on. You’re Diamonds Droog. You’ve got a web of informants covering half the city. There isn’t a thing that goes on this town that you don’t find out. You have to know something, anything. Anything even slightly out of the ordinary at all. I’m starved for leads here.”

“Sorry. We don’t know anything.” Droog unfolds his arms and starts walking away. He stops, and then looks over his shoulder. “You know what your colleagues are up to?”

“You mean Dick and Inspector?”

“No, the ones you hate.”

“You mean my competitors.” Sleuth says. “I don’t keep tabs on those amateurs.”

“I hear they’re making themselves unavailable and working on something together.”

Sleuth raises a brow. “That’s not so unusual.”

“That’s what I thought. But they’re missing all at the same time?” Droog asks rhetorically. “No, something’s up. I don’t know why I told you this just now. It only crossed my mind when you asked.” Droog says. “Now get out of here. We’re about to get to work.” Droog chillily says.

Problem Sleuth hops off the stool. “Tell Slick I said thanks.” He says as he walks out the door. Problem Sleuth shoves his hands in his pockets and waits outside for a moment. The Midnight Cruiser jumps out of the alley next to the bar and screeches onto the street. Spades Slick leans out the window shouting profanities at traffic. Didn’t that thing get shot up? Maybe they had another somewhere.

As Sleuth’s eye follows the Crew’s car down the street, he catches sight of something. A man in a car staring at him.

Problem Sleuth: Talk things over.

Oh, you’ll talk things over with him.

You’ve got the key to a perfect discussion right here.

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Who's that in the car, I wonder?

Private detectives being missing and unavailable for some reason is something I had planned but should have worked into the story earlier. Another edit that I'm going to have to make to polish up this story.

This segment's kind of long, because I think I screwed up the pacing a little bit. The mystery of who's watching Sleuth will have to wait for the next segment.

These get better every time I read them. I've never gotten very far into Problem Sleuth (the dicking around was just a little harsh on me. I didn't see the point.) but it looks like I'll have to start.

[Author]

WARNING: HUGE OOC POST APPROACHING!

Aftermath - II

show spoiler

hide spoiler

The threshecutioners and cavalreapers merely stared on in awe as Aradia suavely walked towards the transport, towards what they all knew, knew would be her doom. They had come to collect her for the Empress, and the Empress sure as hell didn't want the leader of the Decadent Remnant - those devoted to ending her reign, as an ally.

That would be stupid.

They watched her as she began to interact with the pilot as if he were an old friend, laughing as the pilot stammered a few responses to her questions. They felt... sad, almost. She really wasn't all that bad. She wasn't anything like the stories they'd heard of her at the academy. They simply couldn't grasp the concept of this... girl, full of life, so happy, being the one who destroyed thousands of their comrades in a single instant.

"Don't be fooled."

All of the troops glanced around, looking for the speaker, only to discover it was one of their own, a cavalreaper. Battle-hardened, by the looks of it. He didn't wear a helmet, and he had shaved off all his hair, in addition to sharpening his massive horns. A scar ran down his left eye, and he glared at Aradia with unmasked loathing.

"She looks nice, sure. But, uh, I was there at the Battle of Vestige. I saw what she did."

The troll shook his head, as if he was unable to fathom what Aradia had done.

"I fought with the Empress. With the, um, Heir Apparant, too. Hell, uh, even the fucking subjugglators fought. Against her, um, and her damned uprising. You know what happened?"

They did. They'd all read the history books, all wondered how the damned leaders had been allowed to survive. Most of the threshecutioners had a different opinion though. They'd spoken with their lieutenant, and he'd told them a lot.

"Listen up you grubfucking shitsacks! You'll probably not give a fuck about my story. But I know that your children will when they find out who your fucking Lieutenant was. That's right, I believed in the children. In the Decadent Remnant. But you know what? We had fucking ideals. We always worked towards the greater good. For fuck's sake, that was what the Empress had promised the lowbloods when she began her reign. And what did we get? Jack. Fucking. Shit."

He spat at the ground, before glaring at his troops once more.

"It was me, Aradia, and a few other friends with dented think pans. Nobody believed in us, we were a bunch of lowbloods out of their place. Your fucking Marquise sure as hell agreed after they took our side. Stupid bitch. She should never have betrayed him in the first place. The Battle of Vestige you read about? Bullshit. We didn't 'lose'. Aradia won, and then surrendered. She knew, she fucking knew, that the Empress would comply. Because otherwise we would utterly annihilate her shit. So what the fuck was she gonna do about it? Heh. But she doesn't give a shit about us, y'know? We're just pawns now. Pawns in her big fucking game.

And frankly, I really don't fuckin' mind."

The cavalreaper glanced at the threshecutioners', and grinned.

"uhh, Of course. You um, have him as your LT, don't you? He's a, uhh, great damn bastard ain't he?" They all muttered awkwardly, not willing to betray their leader.

The cavalreaper's grin widened.

"Fuckin' hell, I don't think that, uhh, Vriska would believe this shit. Not even, um, Terezi would. He commands you guys around? He gives you orders, and, uh, you have his fucking loyalty? He was such a grub back then."

He looked out, and he saw the palace approaching. He sighed as he glanced over the troops, before shouting,

"Listen up you fucking worthless piles of shit! uhhh, I'm Tavros Nitram, the commander of your horseshit!" A murmur arose. "Yeah, uh, of course you know me! I saved your fucking lives seven sweeps ago! Ummm, Of course I was like you back then! Worthless! Didn't believe in myself!"

He glared at Aradia, as if this was her fault.

"But now I know better! I, uhhh, fight for the good of our fucking empire!"

The ship landed, and they all stepped out. Aradia walked forward with her head held high as Tavros directed his troops.

"I, uhh, think maybe you, uhh, maggots need to get up off your candy, uhh, asses and do some mans work..."

The troops all walked in one direction, as two Laughsassins grabbed Aradia's arms. She looked at them coolly. "I suggest you unhand me. I can walk on my own." She heard a chuckle ahead of her, and looked forward, her heart sinking.

"Damn juggalette, you're sure in a hell of a pickle now."

The subjugglator grinned.

"You got nowhere to run now Megido. You're ours." He threw his arm over her shoulder, and she flinched. The laughsassins let go, and Aradia debated if she could run. She glanced over at the Subjugglator, and he grinned.

"Bra, you know you can't get away. The fact that you're hear it's like... it's like a motherfuckin' miracle." Aradia sighed as she felt his grip tighten. As relaxed as he seemed, the subjugglator sure as hell wasn't going to let her escape. He made ludicrous small talk that Aradia ignored all the way to the throne room. She was dumped unceremoniously on the floor, and looked up at the Empress and Heir Apparent. It was strange, in reflection, on their relationship. Once the Heir Apparent had stopped being so obsessed with romance, everyone flocked to him. Except the Empress, of course. She insisted they remained just friends. But Aradia's mind was, as usual, far off track from her current focus. The Empress tutted absentmindedly at Aradia.

"Aradia you glubbing idiot! Why would you just keep floundering about?!?! You knew you'd be taken in eventually!" She sniffed, as if she was genuinely hurt by Aradia's actions. Aradia knew better. She had known ever since Fef-no, the Empress betrayed all their friends. And their saviors. She responded coolly, "If you really cared, Empress, then why would you lie to them? They saved us, and you want their world." Oh, how she bristled at that. She looked almost insulted. "Aradia, im insulted! You're so shellfish sometimes!" She looked around, and found the subjugglator standing nearby. "Gamzee, take her to the Marquise!" The Subjugglator nodded. He had long since given up his name for his title. He grasped Aradia, once more dragging her through the halls, this time taking her to the Marquise.

Aradia had heard stories of the Marquise's depravity, but she had never imagined it would reach this level. The Marquise was watching a movie with baths in it. Sure, the actors were humans, but still. That was just sick. The Marquise turned around, and smiled wickedly at Aradia. "Well, looooooook what the cat dragged in! It's my favorite, matesprit stealing whore!"

A/N:

show spoiler

hide spoiler

YEAH I TOTALLY DIDN'T MEAN TO END IT LIKE THAT.
THAT WOULD BE MEAN.

...I find it ironic that the post where I introduce the manipulative character is #1984.

EDIT: Ninja'd by Sapphire of Alternia. Drat.

[mienrose]

thesis crisis status
8878/10000 words written
20/25 green torsos dead ciceronian letters analysed

YOU SEQUELIZE THAT STORY.

YOU SEQUELIZE IT THIS INSTANT.

Okay!

I still can't promise regular updates to this as studying takes priority, but I hope the individual pieces are entertaining enough to make up for that. I really enjoy writing them.

Last section here.

WHELP

continue Y/N?

> Y

show spoiler

hide spoiler

tentacleTherapist (TT) started pestering turntechGodhead (TG)

Show Pesterlog

show spoiler

hide spoiler

TT: Dave.
TT: David.
TT: Strider.
TT: STRIIIIIDER
TG: ok hold up don’t get your panties in a twist im here
TG: i know you cant get enough of this fine ass but seriously wait your turn
TG: ive got a lot of irons in the fire here
TT: I beg your pardon?
TG: oh fuck i did not just say that
TG: fucking troll memes
TG: like brainworms
TG: wrapping round your cortex getting frisky with your cerebellum jiggling your fucking hypothalamus
TG: warm rush of joy gushing out all over the place every time they manage to get their worthless selves replicated
TG: and they target me cuz they know im the wordmeister
TG: but ill be STRONG
TT: Ah?
TG: CRAP
TG: nevermind
TG: sup
TT: I wanted to apologise, as it happens.
TT: I fear I may have been a little too... enthusiastic, earlier.
TG: i dont even know what youre talking about
TT: I’m referring to the ‘sick burn’ I induced in this morning’s memo.
TT: Both John and Jade were shocked by my words and you did leave rather abruptly.
TT: Although I know perfectly well that you will never, ever admit it if I did succeed in bruising your feelings, or for that matter admit that you actually possess any feelings at all, it was not my intent to be unnecessarily hurtful.
TG: oh that
TG: i dont give a shit seriously my sweet delicate flower of a pathic fucking soul remains one hundred percent unwilted
TG: all part of the plan right
TT: The plan, yes.
TT: I’m a little worried about the plan.
TG: the plan is golden dont worry about the plan
TT: It’s only that I wish that we could involve John and Jade.
TT: Much as I hate to admit it, Dave, you and I both have a history of... how can I put this...
TT: Fucking up.
TT: You at least have been able to shunt your failures off onto doomed timelines, while mine continue to make their effects known in the universe we created to this day.
TT: If I had been a little less unidirectional in my cynicism with regards to the mechanics of the gameworld...
TT: I digress. Forgive me.
TT: My point remains: even if he is no longer our ‘leader’ as such, John remains the moral and emotional center of our merry band for a reason. He is by far the most stable personality out of us all. I suspect it may have something to do with the fact that he is the only one of us with anything approaching a ‘normal’ upbringing.
TT: If we are so sure he would disapprove of our actions that we dare not involve him in our plans...
TT: Perhaps we should reconsider.
TG: listen rose if you think johns years of clowns and cake make him somehow saner than those of us who got puppets or wizards or omnipotent pooches
TG: then ok im not saying youre wrong
TG: but you and me do all right
TG: or we did in davesprites timeline anyway and that was four months
TG: and i know you remember it
TT: You don’t.
TG: of course i dont it wasnt me
TG: well it was but not this me
TG: what im saying is this selfdoubt bullshit is basically pointless
TG: we already know what were gonna do
TG: and now were gonna do it
TG: and we dont tell john because john would stop us
TG: and we dont tell jade because jade cant lie for shit
TG: and i know you want your mom back dont lie i bet you cry into your pillow wishing for her loving maternal whatever
TG: and brace yourself because i am about to get some feelings all up in your face
TG: because i want my bro
TG: so thats it
TT: Yes.
TT: It is, isn’t it?
TG: right so as far as theyre concerned you and me are getting our mutual bitchfit on right now
TG: and theyre gonna be all distracted by babies anyway
TG: unless you can talk them out of it
TT: I have no intention of talking them out of it. I think it’s a good idea.
TT: And it will keep them busy.
TG: fine
TG: so operation necromancy is a go
TT: Please don’t call it that.
TT: But yes, it is.

tentacleTherapist (TT) ceased pestering turntechGodhead (TG)

==> You can’t quite shake the feeling that this may be a truly terrible idea.

==> You really want your mom.

show spoiler

hide spoiler

_

Meanwhile...

ectoBiologist (EB) began pestering gardenGnostic (GG)

Show Pesterlog

show spoiler

hide spoiler

EB: hey jade where are you?
EB: i thought you were going to pick me up!
EB: we have to go make babies!
EB: ...that sounded weird
GG: hi john sorry!!!!
GG: i will be RIGHT THERE i promise :)
GG: and i met a friend on the way!

gardenGnostic (GG) ceased pestering ectoBiologist (EB)

Oh no.

Oh no oh no oh no please.

==> Jade: Travel.

You are so excited that your friend has decided to join you! You are sure John will be very happy to see you both. And you will be happy to see him! It’s been ages since you’ve seen John.

Your friend asks where you are going. You tell him you are going to make babies with John. Your friend bares his teeth and you hastily explain that you meant the ectobiological kind of making babies, not the other kind. Your friend is a bit protective sometimes! But that is okay, you know it is only because he cares about you and wants you to be safe always. You thank him for caring about you. Your friend looks very embarrassed, you think, although it is quite hard to tell. He threatens to kill you if you ever again suggest that he has ever felt anything remotely resembling caring for you or anybody else. You laugh merrily at his shenanigans. It sure is enjoyable to be traversing the boundless infinity of space with a good friend by your side!

Your friend asks if you can play fetch. He asks it very quietly.

You say maybe later.

Your friend loses his temper. He says what if he goes on a murderous rampage?

You say then you won’t play fetch.

Your friend is floored by your ultimatum. He admits that you are a master of diplomatic negotiation and grudgingly agrees to play later. In the meantime he is going to accompany you and make sure that you are safe always. Nothing can possibly harm you while you are in his company as he is literally the most dangerous thing in the universe.

Good Jack! Best friend!

==> Arrive.

You arrive at John’s place! John looks very happy to see you.

He looks less happy to see Jack. He has never been entirely comfortable with this particular redemption arc.

[Embargo]

thesis crisis status
8878/10000 words written
20/25 green torsos dead ciceronian letters analysed

YOU SEQUELIZE THAT STORY.

YOU SEQUELIZE IT THIS INSTANT.

Okay!

I still can't promise regular updates to this as studying takes priority, but I hope the individual pieces are entertaining enough to make up for that. I really enjoy writing them.

Last section here.

WHELP

continue Y/N?

> Y

show spoiler

hide spoiler

tentacleTherapist (TT) started pestering turntechGodhead (TG)

Show Pesterlog

show spoiler

hide spoiler

TT: Dave.
TT: David.
TT: Strider.
TT: STRIIIIIDER
TG: ok hold up don’t get your panties in a twist im here
TG: i know you cant get enough of this fine ass but seriously wait your turn
TG: ive got a lot of irons in the fire here
TT: I beg your pardon?
TG: oh fuck i did not just say that
TG: fucking troll memes
TG: like brainworms
TG: wrapping round your cortex getting frisky with your cerebellum jiggling your fucking hypothalamus
TG: warm rush of joy gushing out all over the place every time they manage to get their worthless selves replicated
TG: and they target me cuz they know im the wordmeister
TG: but ill be STRONG
TT: Ah?
TG: CRAP
TG: nevermind
TG: sup
TT: I wanted to apologise, as it happens.
TT: I fear I may have been a little too... enthusiastic, earlier.
TG: i dont even know what youre talking about
TT: I’m referring to the ‘sick burn’ I induced in this morning’s memo.
TT: Both John and Jade were shocked by my words and you did leave rather abruptly.
TT: Although I know perfectly well that you will never, ever admit it if I did succeed in bruising your feelings, or for that matter admit that you actually possess any feelings at all, it was not my intent to be unnecessarily hurtful.
TG: oh that
TG: i dont give a shit seriously my sweet delicate flower of a pathic fucking soul remains one hundred percent unwilted
TG: all part of the plan right
TT: The plan, yes.
TT: I’m a little worried about the plan.
TG: the plan is golden dont worry about the plan
TT: It’s only that I wish that we could involve John and Jade.
TT: Much as I hate to admit it, Dave, you and I both have a history of... how can I put this...
TT: Fucking up.
TT: You at least have been able to shunt your failures off onto doomed timelines, while mine continue to make their effects known in the universe we created to this day.
TT: If I had been a little less unidirectional in my cynicism with regards to the mechanics of the gameworld...
TT: I digress. Forgive me.
TT: My point remains: even if he is no longer our ‘leader’ as such, John remains the moral and emotional center of our merry band for a reason. He is by far the most stable personality out of us all. I suspect it may have something to do with the fact that he is the only one of us with anything approaching a ‘normal’ upbringing.
TT: If we are so sure he would disapprove of our actions that we dare not involve him in our plans...
TT: Perhaps we should reconsider.
TG: listen rose if you think johns years of clowns and cake make him somehow saner than those of us who got puppets or wizards or omnipotent pooches
TG: then ok im not saying youre wrong
TG: but you and me do all right
TG: or we did in davesprites timeline anyway and that was four months
TG: and i know you remember it
TT: You don’t.
TG: of course i dont it wasnt me
TG: well it was but not this me
TG: what im saying is this selfdoubt bullshit is basically pointless
TG: we already know what were gonna do
TG: and now were gonna do it
TG: and we dont tell john because john would stop us
TG: and we dont tell jade because jade cant lie for shit
TG: and i know you want your mom back dont lie i bet you cry into your pillow wishing for her loving maternal whatever
TG: and brace yourself because i am about to get some feelings all up in your face
TG: because i want my bro
TG: so thats it
TT: Yes.
TT: It is, isn’t it?
TG: right so as far as theyre concerned you and me are getting our mutual bitchfit on right now
TG: and theyre gonna be all distracted by babies anyway
TG: unless you can talk them out of it
TT: I have no intention of talking them out of it. I think it’s a good idea.
TT: And it will keep them busy.
TG: fine
TG: so operation necromancy is a go
TT: Please don’t call it that.
TT: But yes, it is.

tentacleTherapist (TT) ceased pestering turntechGodhead (TG)

==> You can’t quite shake the feeling that this may be a truly terrible idea.

==> You really want your mom.

show spoiler

hide spoiler

_

Meanwhile...

ectoBiologist (EB) began pestering gardenGnostic (GG)

Show Pesterlog

show spoiler

hide spoiler

EB: hey jade where are you?
EB: i thought you were going to pick me up!
EB: we have to go make babies!
EB: ...that sounded weird
GG: hi john sorry!!!!
GG: i will be RIGHT THERE i promise
GG: and i met a friend on the way!

gardenGnostic (GG) ceased pestering ectoBiologist (EB)

Oh no.

Oh no oh no oh no please.

==> Jade: Travel.

You are so excited that your friend has decided to join you! You are sure John will be very happy to see you both. And you will be happy to see him! It’s been ages since you’ve seen John.

Your friend asks where you are going. You tell him you are going to make babies with John. Your friend bares his teeth and you hastily explain that you meant the ectobiological kind of making babies, not the other kind. Your friend is a bit protective sometimes! But that is okay, you know it is only because he cares about you and wants you to be safe always. You thank him for caring about you. Your friend looks very embarrassed, you think, although it is quite hard to tell. He threatens to kill you if you ever again suggest that he has ever felt anything remotely resembling caring for you or anybody else. You laugh merrily at his shenanigans. It sure is enjoyable to be traversing the boundless infinity of space with a good friend by your side!

Your friend asks if you can play fetch. He asks it very quietly.

You say maybe later.

Your friend loses his temper. He says what if he goes on a murderous rampage?

You say then you won’t play fetch.

Your friend is floored by your ultimatum. He admits that you are a master of diplomatic negotiation and grudgingly agrees to play later. In the meantime he is going to accompany you and make sure that you are safe always. Nothing can possibly harm you while you are in his company as he is literally the most dangerous thing in the universe.

Good Jack! Best friend!

==> Arrive.

You arrive at John’s place! John looks very happy to see you.

He looks less happy to see Jack. He has never been entirely comfortable with this particular redemption arc.

...

Pffft hahahaha. That last part was hilarious.

[Kassiopeia]

thesis crisis status
8878/10000 words written
20/25 green torsos dead ciceronian letters analysed

YOU SEQUELIZE THAT STORY.

YOU SEQUELIZE IT THIS INSTANT.

Okay!

I still can't promise regular updates to this as studying takes priority, but I hope the individual pieces are entertaining enough to make up for that. I really enjoy writing them.

Last section here.

WHELP

continue Y/N?

> Y

show spoiler

hide spoiler

tentacleTherapist (TT) started pestering turntechGodhead (TG)

Show Pesterlog

show spoiler

hide spoiler

TT: Dave.
TT: David.
TT: Strider.
TT: STRIIIIIDER
TG: ok hold up don’t get your panties in a twist im here
TG: i know you cant get enough of this fine ass but seriously wait your turn
TG: ive got a lot of irons in the fire here
TT: I beg your pardon?
TG: oh fuck i did not just say that
TG: fucking troll memes
TG: like brainworms
TG: wrapping round your cortex getting frisky with your cerebellum jiggling your fucking hypothalamus
TG: warm rush of joy gushing out all over the place every time they manage to get their worthless selves replicated
TG: and they target me cuz they know im the wordmeister
TG: but ill be STRONG
TT: Ah?
TG: CRAP
TG: nevermind
TG: sup
TT: I wanted to apologise, as it happens.
TT: I fear I may have been a little too... enthusiastic, earlier.
TG: i dont even know what youre talking about
TT: I’m referring to the ‘sick burn’ I induced in this morning’s memo.
TT: Both John and Jade were shocked by my words and you did leave rather abruptly.
TT: Although I know perfectly well that you will never, ever admit it if I did succeed in bruising your feelings, or for that matter admit that you actually possess any feelings at all, it was not my intent to be unnecessarily hurtful.
TG: oh that
TG: i dont give a shit seriously my sweet delicate flower of a pathic fucking soul remains one hundred percent unwilted
TG: all part of the plan right
TT: The plan, yes.
TT: I’m a little worried about the plan.
TG: the plan is golden dont worry about the plan
TT: It’s only that I wish that we could involve John and Jade.
TT: Much as I hate to admit it, Dave, you and I both have a history of... how can I put this...
TT: Fucking up.
TT: You at least have been able to shunt your failures off onto doomed timelines, while mine continue to make their effects known in the universe we created to this day.
TT: If I had been a little less unidirectional in my cynicism with regards to the mechanics of the gameworld...
TT: I digress. Forgive me.
TT: My point remains: even if he is no longer our ‘leader’ as such, John remains the moral and emotional center of our merry band for a reason. He is by far the most stable personality out of us all. I suspect it may have something to do with the fact that he is the only one of us with anything approaching a ‘normal’ upbringing.
TT: If we are so sure he would disapprove of our actions that we dare not involve him in our plans...
TT: Perhaps we should reconsider.
TG: listen rose if you think johns years of clowns and cake make him somehow saner than those of us who got puppets or wizards or omnipotent pooches
TG: then ok im not saying youre wrong
TG: but you and me do all right
TG: or we did in davesprites timeline anyway and that was four months
TG: and i know you remember it
TT: You don’t.
TG: of course i dont it wasnt me
TG: well it was but not this me
TG: what im saying is this selfdoubt bullshit is basically pointless
TG: we already know what were gonna do
TG: and now were gonna do it
TG: and we dont tell john because john would stop us
TG: and we dont tell jade because jade cant lie for shit
TG: and i know you want your mom back dont lie i bet you cry into your pillow wishing for her loving maternal whatever
TG: and brace yourself because i am about to get some feelings all up in your face
TG: because i want my bro
TG: so thats it
TT: Yes.
TT: It is, isn’t it?
TG: right so as far as theyre concerned you and me are getting our mutual bitchfit on right now
TG: and theyre gonna be all distracted by babies anyway
TG: unless you can talk them out of it
TT: I have no intention of talking them out of it. I think it’s a good idea.
TT: And it will keep them busy.
TG: fine
TG: so operation necromancy is a go
TT: Please don’t call it that.
TT: But yes, it is.

tentacleTherapist (TT) ceased pestering turntechGodhead (TG)

==> You can’t quite shake the feeling that this may be a truly terrible idea.

==> You really want your mom.

show spoiler

hide spoiler

_

Meanwhile...

ectoBiologist (EB) began pestering gardenGnostic (GG)

Show Pesterlog

show spoiler

hide spoiler

EB: hey jade where are you?
EB: i thought you were going to pick me up!
EB: we have to go make babies!
EB: ...that sounded weird
GG: hi john sorry!!!!
GG: i will be RIGHT THERE i promise
GG: and i met a friend on the way!

gardenGnostic (GG) ceased pestering ectoBiologist (EB)

Oh no.

Oh no oh no oh no please.

==> Jade: Travel.

You are so excited that your friend has decided to join you! You are sure John will be very happy to see you both. And you will be happy to see him! It’s been ages since you’ve seen John.

Your friend asks where you are going. You tell him you are going to make babies with John. Your friend bares his teeth and you hastily explain that you meant the ectobiological kind of making babies, not the other kind. Your friend is a bit protective sometimes! But that is okay, you know it is only because he cares about you and wants you to be safe always. You thank him for caring about you. Your friend looks very embarrassed, you think, although it is quite hard to tell. He threatens to kill you if you ever again suggest that he has ever felt anything remotely resembling caring for you or anybody else. You laugh merrily at his shenanigans. It sure is enjoyable to be traversing the boundless infinity of space with a good friend by your side!

Your friend asks if you can play fetch. He asks it very quietly.

You say maybe later.

Your friend loses his temper. He says what if he goes on a murderous rampage?

You say then you won’t play fetch.

Your friend is floored by your ultimatum. He admits that you are a master of diplomatic negotiation and grudgingly agrees to play later. In the meantime he is going to accompany you and make sure that you are safe always. Nothing can possibly harm you while you are in his company as he is literally the most dangerous thing in the universe.

Good Jack! Best friend!

==> Arrive.

You arrive at John’s place! John looks very happy to see you.

He looks less happy to see Jack. He has never been entirely comfortable with this particular redemption arc.

Okay this is pretty much magically fantastic, you are the greatest. The last part make me CLAP MY HANDS WITH GLEE LIKE A SEAL.
Also immense kudos to you for handling Cicero, I could not live under such a burden.

[C20710]

Ok, here's a little teaser from something I'm working on. It's currently sitting at around ~2000 words, but I think it's close to completion. Let me know if it sounds interesting. Oh and as always it features my fantroll, but he totally kicks ass and besides, the whole thing is very Terezi-heavy so nobody gets to bitch. lol

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Coroner Suisei sat on his ankles next to the body, prodding it with a stick. Rolled out next to him, a brown leather tool kit chock full of stainless steel instruments, powders, and plastic bags awaited their solemn duty. After another minute of examinatory poking, he swapped the assessment baton for a camera. The soft click of a shutter and a flash of brilliant white light pierced the gloom, followed by the whine of a recharging camera flash. He extracted the film and shook it briskly until it became the contorted face of the late Mr. Zahhak.

Terezi peered over his shoulder. She paused, frowned inquisitively, and dabbed the writing tip of a red ballpoint against her tongue. “The fourth one this month”, she announced. After another minute of examinatory sniffing she completed her notes, flipping the cover of the steno pad closed with a flourish. “Connected perhaps?”

[ceruleanTresses]

I decided on Kanaya/Vriska for that song, and I am going to get to work on it now. Just mentioning it so it doesn't look like I blew it off or anything. :P

Also...

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Your friend loses his temper. He says what if he goes on a murderous rampage?

You say then you won’t play fetch.

Your friend is floored by your ultimatum. He admits that you are a master of diplomatic negotiation and grudgingly agrees to play later. In the meantime he is going to accompany you and make sure that you are safe always. Nothing can possibly harm you while you are in his company as he is literally the most dangerous thing in the universe.

Good Jack! Best friend!

Best thing ever.

[draconicAlgorithm]

Yup, still working on Wizardstuck. In the meantime, have some angsty Past Karkat.

Disease Called Friendship

show spoiler

hide spoiler

It took Karkat a very long time to fully understand the social castes of trolls. He knew the basics, but he did not comprehend what it meant for him until he grew older and wiser of the ways of the world.

When he was young, he thought that all lusii were as careful as his own. Though he was cantankerous most of the time, whenever Karkat left to go play with another troll, his lusus would check over every inch of him to make sure he was presentable. Even stranger, if Karkat were to ever get the tiniest scratch or bruise, his lusus quarantined him in his room until it healed. It wasn't until later, when he mentioned it to one of his friends, a young yellow blood named Andros, that he discovered that it wasn't normal at all.

"That's a stupid reason for not coming out all day!" The other troll had sneered. "My lusus doesn't even care when I get a scratch! If I whine about it, he just hits me over the head and growls at me!" This perplexed Karkat. Was his lusus strange? And why was he so worried about cuts? It wasn't like his blood was strange, was it? He was just a maroon blood. Sure, maybe the shade was a bit off, but it was nothing to bother over. Right?

Then, in his fourth solar sweep, he tripped and skinned a knee while playing with Andros in some trees just out of sight of their lawnring. Though it hurt, he laughed off the pain, not wanting to seem like a wimp in front of his friend.

"Wow, that was dumb!" He said, then looked up. Andros was staring aghast at his knee. Karkat's grin slowly turned to a frown.

"What is it, Andros?"

"Your... your blood." The young troll lifted a finger and pointed at it. "What's wrong with it?" Karkat looked back down at his knee and at the candy red blood that dripped down his leg in rivulets.

"Nothing," he said in response. "It's always looked like this. I told you, I'm a maroon blood."

"That's not maroon," Andros said shakily. "That's not any shade of maroon that I've ever seen. It... its mutant." The word cut through Karkat like a knife. "Mutant" was never a good word. Any troll that was mutant in any way had nothing more to look forward to in life than a culling. Suddenly, his lusus's actions made sense. He had been trying to keep Karkat from being discovered and killed.

"I... I've gotta tell someone," Andros gasped, taking a quick step backward. "This isn't right. It isn't natural. I have to tell someone!" Even at four sweeps, even though he had been coddled, Karkat was no slouch when it came to fighting. He knew, from mock fights, that he was better than Andros, when it came down to it. He didn't think he might kill him. But he could stop him from telling. Karkat marched forward and grabbed the yellow blood by the collar of his shirt.

"No, you don't," he hissed. "You don't have to tell anyone. It can be just our little secret."

"N-no!" Andros squeaked, obviously terrified. "You—you're not right! You have to be culled before you infect the race!" Those words hurt Karkat worse than being called a mutant. Before he realized it, he felt the red tears streaking down his face. He released Andros, his hand falling to his side uselessly.

"Why? Why would you say that? I thought we were friends!"

"I'd never be friends with crazy mutant like you!" Andros spat, venom in his voice. At that point, something in Karkat snapped. He forgot the pain. He forgot the sadness and the confusion of having his own friend turn on him. He forgot himself.

All he knew was anger, and all he saw was red, red like his mutant blood.

By the time he became aware of himself again, it was all over. His sickle was in his hand, stained with Andros's yellow blood. And Andros's head was lying in the grass beside his lifeless body, his expression forever frozen in a look of confusion and terror.

The sight of the body made Karkat sick. He hurried home, and stayed there for days. He could tell his lusus was worried he'd been discovered, but he grew more relaxed when no one came to cull his charge.

Karkat, on the other hand, never relaxed after that. He stopped meeting his other friends. He stopped nearly all contact with the outside world. He holed himself up in his house, except when he had to go hunting to satisfy his lusus, and watched cheesy romcoms and practiced with his sickles and attempted coding. It was so much easier than trying to talk to anyone. He could pretend he was normal. Pretend he wasn't mutant.

His outlook on life became jaded. He grew angrier as time went on, angry at the world for denying him, and angry at himself for not fitting in. Finally, he branched out and began chatting online, but nothing more than that.

He didn't want to make friends anymore. Not real ones. He was too afraid they'd find out what he was. Too afraid they'd judge him.

Too afraid he'd kill them, just like he did Andros.

And then he played SGrub.

When he first found out that Terezi would be able to see him as he played the game, he freaked out. What if he got hurt? What if he bled? What if she found out? But the pull of adventure was stronger. He was tired of his self imposed life as a recluse. He wanted to do something different. Be something different.

So he played. When Sollux had tried to back down, he got angry and did the only thing he could think of to get Sollux angry enough to keep playing. He ran the code that doomed them all. Everyone still played, but he felt as though he himself had brought death down on their heads. He was unlucky, him and his red blood.

Then, when he let Sollux die, it was as if he'd killed Andros all over again.

One after the other, things went wrong, but his friends helped him through. Helped him realize that he was an asset to the game, realize that without him, they'd be at each other's throats. Gradually, he finally felt sure enough of himself to reveal his secret. The one he'd been hiding for so long.

When they were doomed to stay in the lab, he told everyone what his blood color was. He'd half expected looks of derision and disgust, but, to his astonishment, there were few. Of course, Equius had thought it was disgusting, but that didn't seem to overly bother even him. Everyone else reacted with varying degrees of indifference and pride that he had finally overcome his fear and admitted the truth.

It was an odd feeling. For the first time since he was very young, Karkat felt like he belonged. He was no longer afraid of getting injured, or of anyone finding out the truth. He was free. Finally free to be himself.

He only wished he could have found this freedom before they were all about to die.

show spoiler

hide spoiler

This is mostly just a character study of Karkat, but the scene with his friend Andros was inspired partially by Vriska's monologue about trolls viewing killing differently but that Karkat would have been better as a human and partially by the chat in SkaianRedeemer's A Hand in Holding Hands where Kanaya reveals to Rose that she has killed people before and that she's sure everyone but Tavros likely has in the past.

[C20710]

Yup, still working on Wizardstuck. In the meantime, have some angsty Past Karkat.

Disease Called Friendship

show spoiler

hide spoiler

It took Karkat a very long time to fully understand the social castes of trolls. He knew the basics, but he did not comprehend what it meant for him until he grew older and wiser of the ways of the world.

When he was young, he thought that all lusii were as careful as his own. Though he was cantankerous most of the time, whenever Karkat left to go play with another troll, his lusus would check over every inch of him to make sure he was presentable. Even stranger, if Karkat were to ever get the tiniest scratch or bruise, his lusus quarantined him in his room until it healed. It wasn't until later, when he mentioned it to one of his friends, a young yellow blood named Andros, that he discovered that it wasn't normal at all.

"That's a stupid reason for not coming out all day!" The other troll had sneered. "My lusus doesn't even care when I get a scratch! If I whine about it, he just hits me over the head and growls at me!" This perplexed Karkat. Was his lusus strange? And why was he so worried about cuts? It wasn't like his blood was strange, was it? He was just a maroon blood. Sure, maybe the shade was a bit off, but it was nothing to bother over. Right?

Then, in his fourth solar sweep, he tripped and skinned a knee while playing with Andros in some trees just out of sight of their lawnring. Though it hurt, he laughed off the pain, not wanting to seem like a wimp in front of his friend.

"Wow, that was dumb!" He said, then looked up. Andros was staring aghast at his knee. Karkat's grin slowly turned to a frown.

"What is it, Andros?"

"Your... your blood." The young troll lifted a finger and pointed at it. "What's wrong with it?" Karkat looked back down at his knee and at the candy red blood that dripped down his leg in rivulets.

"Nothing," he said in response. "It's always looked like this. I told you, I'm a maroon blood."

"That's not maroon," Andros said shakily. "That's not any shade of maroon that I've ever seen. It... its mutant." The word cut through Karkat like a knife. "Mutant" was never a good word. Any troll that was mutant in any way had nothing more to look forward to in life than a culling. Suddenly, his lusus's actions made sense. He had been trying to keep Karkat from being discovered and killed.

"I... I've gotta tell someone," Andros gasped, taking a quick step backward. "This isn't right. It isn't natural. I have to tell someone!" Even at four sweeps, even though he had been coddled, Karkat was no slouch when it came to fighting. He knew, from mock fights, that he was better than Andros, when it came down to it. He didn't think he might kill him. But he could stop him from telling. Karkat marched forward and grabbed the yellow blood by the collar of his shirt.

"No, you don't," he hissed. "You don't have to tell anyone. It can be just our little secret."

"N-no!" Andros squeaked, obviously terrified. "You—you're not right! You have to be culled before you infect the race!" Those words hurt Karkat worse than being called a mutant. Before he realized it, he felt the red tears streaking down his face. He released Andros, his hand falling to his side uselessly.

"Why? Why would you say that? I thought we were friends!"

"I'd never be friends with crazy mutant like you!" Andros spat, venom in his voice. At that point, something in Karkat snapped. He forgot the pain. He forgot the sadness and the confusion of having his own friend turn on him. He forgot himself.

All he knew was anger, and all he saw was red, red like his mutant blood.

By the time he became aware of himself again, it was all over. His sickle was in his hand, stained with Andros's yellow blood. And Andros's head was lying in the grass beside his lifeless body, his expression forever frozen in a look of confusion and terror.

The sight of the body made Karkat sick. He hurried home, and stayed there for days. He could tell his lusus was worried he'd been discovered, but he grew more relaxed when no one came to cull his charge.

Karkat, on the other hand, never relaxed after that. He stopped meeting his other friends. He stopped nearly all contact with the outside world. He holed himself up in his house, except when he had to go hunting to satisfy his lusus, and watched cheesy romcoms and practiced with his sickles and attempted coding. It was so much easier than trying to talk to anyone. He could pretend he was normal. Pretend he wasn't mutant.

His outlook on life became jaded. He grew angrier as time went on, angry at the world for denying him, and angry at himself for not fitting in. Finally, he branched out and began chatting online, but nothing more than that.

He didn't want to make friends anymore. Not real ones. He was too afraid they'd find out what he was. Too afraid they'd judge him.

Too afraid he'd kill them, just like he did Andros.

And then he played SGrub.

When he first found out that Terezi would be able to see him as he played the game, he freaked out. What if he got hurt? What if he bled? What if she found out? But the pull of adventure was stronger. He was tired of his self imposed life as a recluse. He wanted to do something different. Be something different.

So he played. When Sollux had tried to back down, he got angry and did the only thing he could think of to get Sollux angry enough to keep playing. He ran the code that doomed them all. Everyone still played, but he felt as though he himself had brought death down on their heads. He was unlucky, him and his red blood.

Then, when he let Sollux die, it was as if he'd killed Andros all over again.

One after the other, things went wrong, but his friends helped him through. Helped him realize that he was an asset to the game, realize that without him, they'd be at each other's throats. Gradually, he finally felt sure enough of himself to reveal his secret. The one he'd been hiding for so long.

When they were doomed to stay in the lab, he told everyone what his blood color was. He'd half expected looks of derision and disgust, but, to his astonishment, there were few. Of course, Equius had thought it was disgusting, but that didn't seem to overly bother even him. Everyone else reacted with varying degrees of indifference and pride that he had finally overcome his fear and admitted the truth.

It was an odd feeling. For the first time since he was very young, Karkat felt like he belonged. He was no longer afraid of getting injured, or of anyone finding out the truth. He was free. Finally free to be himself.

He only wished he could have found this freedom before they were all about to die.

show spoiler

hide spoiler

This is mostly just a character study of Karkat, but the scene with his friend Andros was inspired partially by Vriska's monologue about trolls viewing killing differently but that Karkat would have been better as a human and partially by the chat in SkaianRedeemer's A Hand in Holding Hands where Kanaya reveals to Rose that she has killed people before and that she's sure everyone but Tavros likely has in the past.

That makes a lot of sense actually. Idk about you but I'm waiting on Karkatcestor to show up and shine maybe a little more light on this very subject.

[draconicAlgorithm]

Yeah, me too. But, I have a feeling Karkatcestor will be last to show up. :< Probably after a lot of shit goes down.

[Jim Groovester]

@mienrose: Haha, hilarious. The last line especially. And I am also intrigued. Necromancy? Hmmmmm.

And thanks for reading the SoA. Much appreciated.

@Embargo: Thanks!

@Summergale: This is very similar to RDV. That seems to be the point, but I think it's too similar. The trolls' position on the hemospectrum is different, but their interactions are very similar to the ones already present in RDV, and other details, like Aradia getting attacked by FLARPers, are also taken nearly unaltered.

[lantadyme]

thesis crisis status
8878/10000 words written
20/25 green torsos dead ciceronian letters analysed

YOU SEQUELIZE THAT STORY.

YOU SEQUELIZE IT THIS INSTANT.

Okay!

I still can't promise regular updates to this as studying takes priority, but I hope the individual pieces are entertaining enough to make up for that. I really enjoy writing them.

Last section here.

WHELP

continue Y/N?

> Y

show spoiler

hide spoiler

tentacleTherapist (TT) started pestering turntechGodhead (TG)

Show Pesterlog

show spoiler

hide spoiler

TT: Dave.
TT: David.
TT: Strider.
TT: STRIIIIIDER
TG: ok hold up don’t get your panties in a twist im here
TG: i know you cant get enough of this fine ass but seriously wait your turn
TG: ive got a lot of irons in the fire here
TT: I beg your pardon?
TG: oh fuck i did not just say that
TG: fucking troll memes
TG: like brainworms
TG: wrapping round your cortex getting frisky with your cerebellum jiggling your fucking hypothalamus
TG: warm rush of joy gushing out all over the place every time they manage to get their worthless selves replicated
TG: and they target me cuz they know im the wordmeister
TG: but ill be STRONG
TT: Ah?
TG: CRAP
TG: nevermind
TG: sup
TT: I wanted to apologise, as it happens.
TT: I fear I may have been a little too... enthusiastic, earlier.
TG: i dont even know what youre talking about
TT: I’m referring to the ‘sick burn’ I induced in this morning’s memo.
TT: Both John and Jade were shocked by my words and you did leave rather abruptly.
TT: Although I know perfectly well that you will never, ever admit it if I did succeed in bruising your feelings, or for that matter admit that you actually possess any feelings at all, it was not my intent to be unnecessarily hurtful.
TG: oh that
TG: i dont give a shit seriously my sweet delicate flower of a pathic fucking soul remains one hundred percent unwilted
TG: all part of the plan right
TT: The plan, yes.
TT: I’m a little worried about the plan.
TG: the plan is golden dont worry about the plan
TT: It’s only that I wish that we could involve John and Jade.
TT: Much as I hate to admit it, Dave, you and I both have a history of... how can I put this...
TT: Fucking up.
TT: You at least have been able to shunt your failures off onto doomed timelines, while mine continue to make their effects known in the universe we created to this day.
TT: If I had been a little less unidirectional in my cynicism with regards to the mechanics of the gameworld...
TT: I digress. Forgive me.
TT: My point remains: even if he is no longer our ‘leader’ as such, John remains the moral and emotional center of our merry band for a reason. He is by far the most stable personality out of us all. I suspect it may have something to do with the fact that he is the only one of us with anything approaching a ‘normal’ upbringing.
TT: If we are so sure he would disapprove of our actions that we dare not involve him in our plans...
TT: Perhaps we should reconsider.
TG: listen rose if you think johns years of clowns and cake make him somehow saner than those of us who got puppets or wizards or omnipotent pooches
TG: then ok im not saying youre wrong
TG: but you and me do all right
TG: or we did in davesprites timeline anyway and that was four months
TG: and i know you remember it
TT: You don’t.
TG: of course i dont it wasnt me
TG: well it was but not this me
TG: what im saying is this selfdoubt bullshit is basically pointless
TG: we already know what were gonna do
TG: and now were gonna do it
TG: and we dont tell john because john would stop us
TG: and we dont tell jade because jade cant lie for shit
TG: and i know you want your mom back dont lie i bet you cry into your pillow wishing for her loving maternal whatever
TG: and brace yourself because i am about to get some feelings all up in your face
TG: because i want my bro
TG: so thats it
TT: Yes.
TT: It is, isn’t it?
TG: right so as far as theyre concerned you and me are getting our mutual bitchfit on right now
TG: and theyre gonna be all distracted by babies anyway
TG: unless you can talk them out of it
TT: I have no intention of talking them out of it. I think it’s a good idea.
TT: And it will keep them busy.
TG: fine
TG: so operation necromancy is a go
TT: Please don’t call it that.
TT: But yes, it is.

tentacleTherapist (TT) ceased pestering turntechGodhead (TG)

==> You can’t quite shake the feeling that this may be a truly terrible idea.

==> You really want your mom.

show spoiler

hide spoiler

_

Meanwhile...

ectoBiologist (EB) began pestering gardenGnostic (GG)

Show Pesterlog

show spoiler

hide spoiler

EB: hey jade where are you?
EB: i thought you were going to pick me up!
EB: we have to go make babies!
EB: ...that sounded weird
GG: hi john sorry!!!!
GG: i will be RIGHT THERE i promise
GG: and i met a friend on the way!

gardenGnostic (GG) ceased pestering ectoBiologist (EB)

Oh no.

Oh no oh no oh no please.

==> Jade: Travel.

You are so excited that your friend has decided to join you! You are sure John will be very happy to see you both. And you will be happy to see him! It’s been ages since you’ve seen John.

Your friend asks where you are going. You tell him you are going to make babies with John. Your friend bares his teeth and you hastily explain that you meant the ectobiological kind of making babies, not the other kind. Your friend is a bit protective sometimes! But that is okay, you know it is only because he cares about you and wants you to be safe always. You thank him for caring about you. Your friend looks very embarrassed, you think, although it is quite hard to tell. He threatens to kill you if you ever again suggest that he has ever felt anything remotely resembling caring for you or anybody else. You laugh merrily at his shenanigans. It sure is enjoyable to be traversing the boundless infinity of space with a good friend by your side!

Your friend asks if you can play fetch. He asks it very quietly.

You say maybe later.

Your friend loses his temper. He says what if he goes on a murderous rampage?

You say then you won’t play fetch.

Your friend is floored by your ultimatum. He admits that you are a master of diplomatic negotiation and grudgingly agrees to play later. In the meantime he is going to accompany you and make sure that you are safe always. Nothing can possibly harm you while you are in his company as he is literally the most dangerous thing in the universe.

Good Jack! Best friend!

==> Arrive.

You arrive at John’s place! John looks very happy to see you.

He looks less happy to see Jack. He has never been entirely comfortable with this particular redemption arc.

Oh my, this can only get better. Keep at it, man!

[ceruleanTresses]

ceruleanTresses, would you please write someone singing"Can't Help Lovin' Dat Man" from Showboat? It's stuck in my head.

It's probably not stuck in your head anymore. BUT IT WILL BE NOW. *Maniacal laughter*

Cant Help Loving That Morail Mine

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Oh Listen Mother
I Love A Certain Girl
And I Cant Tell You Why
Theres No Good Reason
For Me To Love That Girl
Reasons Dont Matter
When Your Thoughts Are Awhirl

Were Morails But
I Cant Deny
I Think Ill Love That Girl Till I Die
Cant Help Loving That Morail Mine

Shes Homicidal
Shes A Huge Bitch
Still Shes My Idol
Am I Bewitched
Cant Help Loving That Morail Mine

I Know Shes Like Fire
Dont Touch Her Just Admire
Maybe Thats What Draws Me To Her So
But I Dont Know

I Guess Adjusting
To Pale Has Been Tough
Meddling And Fussing
Is Never Enough
Cant Help Loving That Morail Mine

Original song.
(argh it is so hard to find decent rhymes for "girl" and "homicidal.")

[The Cool]

Seriously how does a perpetually stoned dude have the patience to type like that

Motherfucking MiRaClEs, that's how.

On an unrelated note, here's this thing that's been stuck in my head for like a month.

show spoiler

hide spoiler

show spoiler

hide spoiler

--paradiseMaiden [PM] began pestering solarTechnician [ST]

PM: I can't believe I'm doing this.
ST: oh hey! you almost never talk to me! whatcha need?
PM: The old hag told me that I had to bring you in to this game she's setting up.
PM: Apparently we need one more player with heavy firepower, so guess who fits that description.
ST: hmm, i dunno, i'm no good at riddles!
PM: ...
PM: You're kidding right? It's you, why else would I bother talking to you?
ST: oh! haha! i guess that makes sense!
ST: but I dunno, i'm pretty busy down here with the reactor and everything!
ST: uh oh, looks like it's acting up again! be right back!

--solarTechnician is now idle!--

ST: okay I'm back! what were we talking about again?
PM: You just agreed to join us with whatever the hag is going on about.
ST: oh right! Is there anything I need to do?
PM: I'll send you the files, and then you have to connect to Alice. She already brought Marisa in, so that means she's next in the chain. Just don't do anything dumb.
ST: can do!

--paradiseMaiden ceased pestering solarTechnician--

Your name is UTSUHO REIUJI, you are a Hell Raven who ate the corpse of a sun god, gaining the power of NUCLEAR FUSION in the process. Unfortunately this made you go SLIGHTLY CRAZY, and you almost destroyed the surface. After getting some sense beaten into you, you were placed in charge of maintaining Gensokyo's first ever NUCLEAR REACTOR. Currently, you are waiting for some new game to arrive on your NITORI BRAND MAGICOMPUTER, a device that lets you talk to all the fun people you met. Your chumhandle is solarTechnician and you tend to talk like a kid on a sugar rush!

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Sorry if it's terrible, but I had to get it out of my head. I may continue it if people are interested, and I find the time to actually work on it.

OH HELL YES

Count Loot: Continue.

[PingZing]

Feedback time!

EDIT: Oh Gog, why is this a page topper...

Because it is awesome fun times. I'm eager to see more, but I do have a question; why is Redblood crying at the end there? Didn't quite understand that.

Summergale - Yesssss, Sollux-as-emperor is awesome for reasons I cannot fully explain.

Jim
1.) I loved that bit about the five o'clock shadow. That entire paragraph I was thinking "carapaces with beards, what" and it turned out so was PS. Heh.
2.) I really enjoy your Midnight Crew. I feel like you got their dynamic down pat.

Author -This story intrigues and frustrates me. Because I don't know what's going on yet, but really want to.
I don't really know how I feel about your Tavros. I'm having a hard time picturing him speaking forcefully and haltingly at the same time. It just...doesn't...make sense. Minor problem though.

mienrose - > Y indeed
I loved that final passage. I figured it out halfway through the paragraph and couldn't stop snickering.

draconicAlgorithm - This feels both very likely and very in-character. Karkat as a shut-in with a nannying lusus just makes sense, y'know?

[Balladeer]

thesis crisis status
8878/10000 words written
20/25 green torsos dead ciceronian letters analysed

YOU SEQUELIZE THAT STORY.

YOU SEQUELIZE IT THIS INSTANT.

Okay!

I still can't promise regular updates to this as studying takes priority, but I hope the individual pieces are entertaining enough to make up for that. I really enjoy writing them.

Last section here.

WHELP

continue Y/N?

> Y

show spoiler

hide spoiler

tentacleTherapist (TT) started pestering turntechGodhead (TG)

Show Pesterlog

show spoiler

hide spoiler

TT: Dave.
TT: David.
TT: Strider.
TT: STRIIIIIDER
TG: ok hold up don’t get your panties in a twist im here
TG: i know you cant get enough of this fine ass but seriously wait your turn
TG: ive got a lot of irons in the fire here
TT: I beg your pardon?
TG: oh fuck i did not just say that
TG: fucking troll memes
TG: like brainworms
TG: wrapping round your cortex getting frisky with your cerebellum jiggling your fucking hypothalamus
TG: warm rush of joy gushing out all over the place every time they manage to get their worthless selves replicated
TG: and they target me cuz they know im the wordmeister
TG: but ill be STRONG
TT: Ah?
TG: CRAP
TG: nevermind
TG: sup
TT: I wanted to apologise, as it happens.
TT: I fear I may have been a little too... enthusiastic, earlier.
TG: i dont even know what youre talking about
TT: I’m referring to the ‘sick burn’ I induced in this morning’s memo.
TT: Both John and Jade were shocked by my words and you did leave rather abruptly.
TT: Although I know perfectly well that you will never, ever admit it if I did succeed in bruising your feelings, or for that matter admit that you actually possess any feelings at all, it was not my intent to be unnecessarily hurtful.
TG: oh that
TG: i dont give a shit seriously my sweet delicate flower of a pathic fucking soul remains one hundred percent unwilted
TG: all part of the plan right
TT: The plan, yes.
TT: I’m a little worried about the plan.
TG: the plan is golden dont worry about the plan
TT: It’s only that I wish that we could involve John and Jade.
TT: Much as I hate to admit it, Dave, you and I both have a history of... how can I put this...
TT: Fucking up.
TT: You at least have been able to shunt your failures off onto doomed timelines, while mine continue to make their effects known in the universe we created to this day.
TT: If I had been a little less unidirectional in my cynicism with regards to the mechanics of the gameworld...
TT: I digress. Forgive me.
TT: My point remains: even if he is no longer our ‘leader’ as such, John remains the moral and emotional center of our merry band for a reason. He is by far the most stable personality out of us all. I suspect it may have something to do with the fact that he is the only one of us with anything approaching a ‘normal’ upbringing.
TT: If we are so sure he would disapprove of our actions that we dare not involve him in our plans...
TT: Perhaps we should reconsider.
TG: listen rose if you think johns years of clowns and cake make him somehow saner than those of us who got puppets or wizards or omnipotent pooches
TG: then ok im not saying youre wrong
TG: but you and me do all right
TG: or we did in davesprites timeline anyway and that was four months
TG: and i know you remember it
TT: You don’t.
TG: of course i dont it wasnt me
TG: well it was but not this me
TG: what im saying is this selfdoubt bullshit is basically pointless
TG: we already know what were gonna do
TG: and now were gonna do it
TG: and we dont tell john because john would stop us
TG: and we dont tell jade because jade cant lie for shit
TG: and i know you want your mom back dont lie i bet you cry into your pillow wishing for her loving maternal whatever
TG: and brace yourself because i am about to get some feelings all up in your face
TG: because i want my bro
TG: so thats it
TT: Yes.
TT: It is, isn’t it?
TG: right so as far as theyre concerned you and me are getting our mutual bitchfit on right now
TG: and theyre gonna be all distracted by babies anyway
TG: unless you can talk them out of it
TT: I have no intention of talking them out of it. I think it’s a good idea.
TT: And it will keep them busy.
TG: fine
TG: so operation necromancy is a go
TT: Please don’t call it that.
TT: But yes, it is.

tentacleTherapist (TT) ceased pestering turntechGodhead (TG)

==> You can’t quite shake the feeling that this may be a truly terrible idea.

==> You really want your mom.

show spoiler

hide spoiler

_

Meanwhile...

ectoBiologist (EB) began pestering gardenGnostic (GG)

Show Pesterlog

show spoiler

hide spoiler

EB: hey jade where are you?
EB: i thought you were going to pick me up!
EB: we have to go make babies!
EB: ...that sounded weird
GG: hi john sorry!!!!
GG: i will be RIGHT THERE i promise
GG: and i met a friend on the way!

gardenGnostic (GG) ceased pestering ectoBiologist (EB)

Oh no.

Oh no oh no oh no please.

==> Jade: Travel.

You are so excited that your friend has decided to join you! You are sure John will be very happy to see you both. And you will be happy to see him! It’s been ages since you’ve seen John.

Your friend asks where you are going. You tell him you are going to make babies with John. Your friend bares his teeth and you hastily explain that you meant the ectobiological kind of making babies, not the other kind. Your friend is a bit protective sometimes! But that is okay, you know it is only because he cares about you and wants you to be safe always. You thank him for caring about you. Your friend looks very embarrassed, you think, although it is quite hard to tell. He threatens to kill you if you ever again suggest that he has ever felt anything remotely resembling caring for you or anybody else. You laugh merrily at his shenanigans. It sure is enjoyable to be traversing the boundless infinity of space with a good friend by your side!

Your friend asks if you can play fetch. He asks it very quietly.

You say maybe later.

Your friend loses his temper. He says what if he goes on a murderous rampage?

You say then you won’t play fetch.

Your friend is floored by your ultimatum. He admits that you are a master of diplomatic negotiation and grudgingly agrees to play later. In the meantime he is going to accompany you and make sure that you are safe always. Nothing can possibly harm you while you are in his company as he is literally the most dangerous thing in the universe.

Good Jack! Best friend!

==> Arrive.

You arrive at John’s place! John looks very happy to see you.

He looks less happy to see Jack. He has never been entirely comfortable with this particular redemption arc.

AHAHA just how HIGH do you have to be to write something like that? :P

[Megafire]

@ A Fan: That was very beautiful, really.

@ Author: I am still intrigued.

@ mienrose: Your Jade is absolutely perfect and that part was hilarious.

[Path]

continue Y/N?

> Y

> Y
> Y
> Y
> Y

[kaoticAntagonist]

Blood

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Blood flowed through crevices of black bone, slowly moving through the channels it had worn out for itself years ago. The sound it made was the same disgusting one he had heard in his head every night since he was hatched, the one of blood skimming over the bones in his body, pumping through him calm and impatient. Hearts, pierced by spears of despair and swords of woe leaked their lives out to the oceans, never dying but locked into their own perpetual end, beating their last second after second with no end in sight. Occasionally bubbles rose from the seas, gradually, parting them and splattering the blood of the fallen when they popped. Perhaps they were the last breaths of an always dying world. Perhaps they were chuckles at his own glaring incompetence. He could never decide which. But whenever a few drops landed on him he felt the mockery in it. A brand new fucking universe and it hated him just as much as his old one did.

Scarlet rage mixed with crimson hate and the blood of those who died fighting gushed through the planet, keeping it alive so it could suffer more pain. The pathetic warriors who died running rose up from their graves, their pale shades obscuring the land to hide their loss and their shame. Fighting battles they would never win, dying screams were not made but felt on every step you made and heartbeat you had. Heat rose from the rivers and and the last breaths of the fallen gave warmth to the those who now fought on the same stone.

Skills became meaningless in the midst of the battles and the blades you came with quickly became stained with the rivers. The bloodstains on his clothes multiplied until he forgot why he had hid them in the first place. He did it all again and again a never-ending cycle of raising his sickle and bringing it down, ending another imp and collecting the spoils. The minutiae quickly became lost to him as he stopped thinking and just fought, a true knight in the world of monsters and death. Mercy was past, and Knights knew nothing of it. They asked for only more of what they knew and were rewarded with it again and again, a never ending march of battles and strife, as was only fitting. Someone had to take on the worst of the burden. To feel the most of the pain. To hold their own so close to their hearts that it slowly killed them. That is what Knights were for. That's all they were useful for. Not to learn, not to lead not to forgive or forget. They only knew how to kill and die.

He found that at the end he was only any good at the latter.

please comment or criticize. i want to get better at my writing and i currently don't have many people to read over it. also this is like my 5th post here and my others were usually skipped over so commenting would really make my day, even if its just to say that its horrible.

[Megafire]

Haha, that's totally how Karkat would view Knights, too. Or at least what he tells himself they are, because he isn't willing to admit that they're meant to protect as well.

[C20710]

Blood

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Blood flowed through crevices of black bone, slowly moving through the channels it had worn out for itself years ago. The sound it made was the same disgusting one he had heard in his head every night since he was hatched, the one of blood skimming over the bones in his body, pumping through him calm and impatient. Hearts, pierced by spears of despair and swords of woe leaked their lives out to the oceans, never dying but locked into their own perpetual end, beating their last second after second with no end in sight. Occasionally bubbles rose from the seas, gradually, parting them and splattering the blood of the fallen when they popped. Perhaps they were the last breaths of an always dying world. Perhaps they were chuckles at his own glaring incompetence. He could never decide which. But whenever a few drops landed on him he felt the mockery in it. A brand new fucking universe and it hated him just as much as his old one did.

Scarlet rage mixed with crimson hate and the blood of those who died fighting gushed through the planet, keeping it alive so it could suffer more pain. The pathetic warriors who died running rose up from their graves, their pale shades obscuring the land to hide their loss and their shame. Fighting battles they would never win, dying screams were not made but felt on every step you made and heartbeat you had. Heat rose from the rivers and and the last breaths of the fallen gave warmth to the those who now fought on the same stone.

Skills became meaningless in the midst of the battles and the blades you came with quickly became stained with the rivers. The bloodstains on his clothes multiplied until he forgot why he had hid them in the first place. He did it all again and again a never-ending cycle of raising his sickle and bringing it down, ending another imp and collecting the spoils. The minutiae quickly became lost to him as he stopped thinking and just fought, a true knight in the world of monsters and death. Mercy was past, and Knights knew nothing of it. They asked for only more of what they knew and were rewarded with it again and again, a never ending march of battles and strife, as was only fitting. Someone had to take on the worst of the burden. To feel the most of the pain. To hold their own so close to their hearts that it slowly killed them. That is what Knights were for. That's all they were useful for. Not to learn, not to lead not to forgive or forget. They only knew how to kill and die.

He found that at the end he was only any good at the latter.

please comment or criticize. i want to get better at my writing and i currently don't have many people to read over it. also this is like my 5th post here and my others were usually skipped over so commenting would really make my day, even if its just to say that its horrible.

Hey I know the feeling. I'm new here too. New to the thread, new to the board. New to writing actually...at least *fiction* writing anyways. So, how could I turn down such a polite request?

When a friend read my first peice that was heavily descriptive she told me to show what I wanted to say, not tell it. The way I try to do that is by making reference to mental images my audience should be familiar with.

So instead of saying something like:

Blood flowed through crevices of black bone, slowly moving through the channels it had worn out for itself years ago.

I would try something like:

Blood oozed through crevices of black bone, apathetically seeping through channels haphazardly eroded by centuries of an unrelenting current

I've made good friends with this page (for when I need just the right word): http://thesaurus.com/

Instead of trying to make your audience see exactly what you see, let them paint the picture themselves. You'll find it reads much better after that.

He did it all again and again a never-ending cycle of raising his sickle and bringing it down, ending another imp and collecting the spoils. The minutiae quickly became lost to him as he stopped thinking and just fought, a true knight in the world of monsters and death.

His sickle rose and fell, forgetting it's purpose on every blow. In time the battle became it's own cause, the original meaning lost among the fallen, carried off in bloody rivers

idk, something like that...
Does that sort of help?

I do like the concept you're working on and I'd love to see it if you did another edit pass on it. Tormented, ansty Karkat is best Karkat!