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

[lucidSeraph]

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hey guys i wrote more Purple Dave.

Haunted
Or, Seraph couldn't think of a cleverer title.

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In Which David Lalonde Discovers His Mother's Death, And Reacts To This News.

Hosted on AO3

Yay, more purple!Dave. Postmodernism isn't really my thing but I love your voice for him.

Thanks! I admit that the postmodernism isn't for everyone (I just have peculiar obsessions) but I'm glad that you like his voice

[Kassiopeia]

Commented over at AO3 but Haunted was pretty fucking great.

[lantadyme]

/co/ was having a prompt generator blitz last night and I lifted this one out for my own purposes. Works best as an AU.

Redglare/Bro - laundry

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Even low level legislacerators have their own ships, tiny things that zip between planets and stars and the various legal infractions scattered in between. Redglare had not been happy when one desperate client had offered a slave in lieu of payment. She had bared her razor teeth and hung him from his own balcony and then she had taken the slave anyway.

It's a strange rare species that comes wrapped in a hibernation pod. She sets in the cargo load of her ship and cracks the seal slowly, grinning all the while. He comes out of the cryofreeze coughing and coughing, curling up on his side naked and sucking air. Her gaze slides all over him and she expects him to lurch back, to show her the same terrified weakness that every client displays. Instead he sits up and raises a brow, eyes still hidden behind his ridiculous shades, and his tone is almost bored as he says, "Sup."

He's no good at cooking. He burns the first three meals he makes for her and she decides she prefers the autochef. She puts him to work in the lower parts of the ship instead, and for a week he disappears entirely. She hears nothing, sees nothing, but the bedding is clean and the floors sparkling and the rumble of the ship's drives has lost some of the sick whine of mistreated machinery.

Apparently he's not so bad a housewife after all.

Redglare pings his slave collar and tracks the locator through the ship to the laundry room. She skulks silently up the hallway, her footsteps careful and catlike, and despite the effort he still looks up the moment she enters—glancing over his shades and nodding in acknowledgement of her presence. He's up to his elbows in soapy water at the sink, the two washing machines running in tandem in the background. Music beats out of the intercom speaker with a heavy buzzing bassline. The plate underneath the transmitter is torn out and the wires rerouted in an ugly tangle so it will play the strange electronic melody, and Redglare looks at the mess for a moment, running a finger down the doorjamb.

"That is Alternian property you've defaced," she tells him, her voice even and with a hint of threat, no trace of her actual amusement.

He shrugs, back to washing whatever it is that's hidden below the suds. "Figured I'm Alternian property too so it don't really matter." He hooks a long red sock out of the water, sopping wet and stunningly clean as he sets it aside. "I'll fix it when I'm done if it bothers you so much."

A smooth smile slides over her face. He's not afraid of her and something about that makes her blood rush with excitement. It's unexpected and she likes that. Redglare doesn't get nearly enough of that anymore. "Perhaps it doesn't bother me."

Another shrug. He doesn't seem interested in playing her games. "Better not 'cause this is a pretty dope song and I'd have to kick your ass if you were raggin' on it."

The insolence in that statement smacks Redglare silent for a moment. He says it with no fire though, only strict matter-of-fact truth and she decides that if he won't play her games she will indulge him in his own. At least for a while. "We do not have music like this on my homeworld."

"Shame."

"Is it? It seems as if something as trivial as music should not matter in the least."

He smiles, glancing over as he shakes his head, and he almost looks disappointed for a moment. "See, that's where you're wrong. Because this shit is keeping me going and making me the best damn slave you've ever had before."

Still hovering in the doorway, Redglare raises her own brow. "Are you now?"

"That's the way I figure it. Else you wouldn't let me just lurk around cleaning ninja style and come bug me about defacing equipment while I'm doing your grody laundry. It's not the usual modus operandi. You ain't the first troll who's gotten her claws in me, señorita."

"Lady Redglare," she corrects sharply.

"Lady Redglare," he says, and it comes out smooth as silk, his voice dripping with suggestive charm.

She crosses the distance between them, heels tapping harshly on the cold metal floor, and she looms over him scowling. Such an insolent slave. Such a filthy-mouthed insolent, hardheaded, impertinent slave, and she curls a cruel hand in the neck of his shirt, glaring daggers. It would be so easy to break him. So easy. But he doesn't flinch away, barely even stops washing the laundry even as their gazes meet heated behind their respective shades.

She kisses him first. He laughs and bites her lip and presses her back to the humming washing machine as he slides his sopping wet hands under her shirt.

Perhaps having an obedient slave isn't the best arrangement, Redglare muses. Perhaps a plaything is better, and he doesn't complain as she drags her fingernails up the soft flesh of his back, drawing red blood.

[lucidSeraph]

Commented over at AO3 but Haunted was pretty fucking great.

and i will tell my horrorterror to get out



*e* @lantadyme : I HAVE BEEN WAITING SO LONG FOR GUARDIAN/ANCESTOR FIC YOU HAVE NO IDEA, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU

[lantadyme]

@lantadyme : I HAVE BEEN WAITING SO LONG FOR GUARDIAN/ANCESTOR FIC YOU HAVE NO IDEA, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU

/salutes

I've been stalking your Bro at singularity somethin' fierce, so thanks for the characterization help. XD

[lucidSeraph]

@lantadyme : I HAVE BEEN WAITING SO LONG FOR GUARDIAN/ANCESTOR FIC YOU HAVE NO IDEA, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU

/salutes

I've been stalking your Bro at singularity somethin' fierce, so thanks for the characterization help. XD

AFMKMcdskpkjnmefmawfdsam,dlf

/faceplant

t-thank you aaaaaaaaaaaaaa

(I still don't think I'm a very good Bro but IDK apparently I am at least entertaining???)

(he's coming back soon btw :3 )

[Kassiopeia]

and i will tell my horrorterror to get out

kehehehehe

/co/ was having a prompt generator blitz last night and I lifted this one out for my own purposes. Works best as an AU.

Redglare/Bro - laundry

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Even low level legislacerators have their own ships, tiny things that zip between planets and stars and the various legal infractions scattered in between. Redglare had not been happy when one desperate client had offered a slave in lieu of payment. She had bared her razor teeth and hung him from his own balcony and then she had taken the slave anyway.

It's a strange rare species that comes wrapped in a hibernation pod. She sets in the cargo load of her ship and cracks the seal slowly, grinning all the while. He comes out of the cryofreeze coughing and coughing, curling up on his side naked and sucking air. Her gaze slides all over him and she expects him to lurch back, to show her the same terrified weakness that every client displays. Instead he sits up and raises a brow, eyes still hidden behind his ridiculous shades, and his tone is almost bored as he says, "Sup."

He's no good at cooking. He burns the first three meals he makes for her and she decides she prefers the autochef. She puts him to work in the lower parts of the ship instead, and for a week he disappears entirely. She hears nothing, sees nothing, but the bedding is clean and the floors sparkling and the rumble of the ship's drives has lost some of the sick whine of mistreated machinery.

Apparently he's not so bad a housewife after all.

Redglare pings his slave collar and tracks the locator through the ship to the laundry room. She skulks silently up the hallway, her footsteps careful and catlike, and despite the effort he still looks up the moment she enters—glancing over his shades and nodding in acknowledgement of her presence. He's up to his elbows in soapy water at the sink, the two washing machines running in tandem in the background. Music beats out of the intercom speaker with a heavy buzzing bassline. The plate underneath the transmitter is torn out and the wires rerouted in an ugly tangle so it will play the strange electronic melody, and Redglare looks at the mess for a moment, running a finger down the doorjamb.

"That is Alternian property you've defaced," she tells him, her voice even and with a hint of threat, no trace of her actual amusement.

He shrugs, back to washing whatever it is that's hidden below the suds. "Figured I'm Alternian property too so it don't really matter." He hooks a long red sock out of the water, sopping wet and stunningly clean as he sets it aside. "I'll fix it when I'm done if it bothers you so much."

A smooth smile slides over her face. He's not afraid of her and something about that makes her blood rush with excitement. It's unexpected and she likes that. Redglare doesn't get nearly enough of that anymore. "Perhaps it doesn't bother me."

Another shrug. He doesn't seem interested in playing her games. "Better not 'cause this is a pretty dope song and I'd have to kick your ass if you were raggin' on it."

The insolence in that statement smacks Redglare silent for a moment. He says it with no fire though, only strict matter-of-fact truth and she decides that if he won't play her games she will indulge him in his own. At least for a while. "We do not have music like this on my homeworld."

"Shame."

"Is it? It seems as if something as trivial as music should not matter in the least."

He smiles, glancing over as he shakes his head, and he almost looks disappointed for a moment. "See, that's where you're wrong. Because this shit is keeping me going and making me the best damn slave you've ever had before."

Still hovering in the doorway, Redglare raises her own brow. "Are you now?"

"That's the way I figure it. Else you wouldn't let me just lurk around cleaning ninja style and come bug me about defacing equipment while I'm doing your grody laundry. It's not the usual modus operandi. You ain't the first troll who's gotten her claws in me, señorita."

"Lady Redglare," she corrects sharply.

"Lady Redglare," he says, and it comes out smooth as silk, his voice dripping with suggestive charm.

She crosses the distance between them, heels tapping harshly on the cold metal floor, and she looms over him scowling. Such an insolent slave. Such a filthy-mouthed insolent, hardheaded, impertinent slave, and she curls a cruel hand in the neck of his shirt, glaring daggers. It would be so easy to break him. So easy. But he doesn't flinch away, barely even stops washing the laundry even as their gazes meet heated behind their respective shades.

She kisses him first. He laughs and bites her lip and presses her back to the humming washing machine as he slides his sopping wet hands under her shirt.

Perhaps having an obedient slave isn't the best arrangement, Redglare muses. Perhaps a plaything is better, and he doesn't complain as she drags her fingernails up the soft flesh of his back, drawing red blood.

Oh MY this was fantastic as ever I hadn't considered this pairing at all, but it's very intriguing.

[Jim Groovester]

@lantadyme: Alien women can't get enough of the Strider family, looks like. Great fic.

[KarneWarrior]

@lantadyme: Alien women can't get enough of the Strider family, looks like. Great fic.

bro=kirk?

[Nox]

bro=kirk?

...that...actually fits quite well...

Kirk + Kamina = Bro

[lucidSeraph]

@lantadyme: Alien women can't get enough of the Strider family, looks like. Great fic.

bro=kirk?

god

damn it

bro needs to stop being pretty much my father
just like dave needs to stop being my younger brother









no wait they can both keep doing that

[ceruleanTresses]

In that case, John is Picard, because he has engaged in successful diplomatic relations with a hostile alien.
Best crossover ever.
(Equius is Worf.)

[Metaflare]

/co/ was having a prompt generator blitz last night and I lifted this one out for my own purposes. Works best as an AU.

Redglare/Bro - laundry

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Even low level legislacerators have their own ships, tiny things that zip between planets and stars and the various legal infractions scattered in between. Redglare had not been happy when one desperate client had offered a slave in lieu of payment. She had bared her razor teeth and hung him from his own balcony and then she had taken the slave anyway.

It's a strange rare species that comes wrapped in a hibernation pod. She sets in the cargo load of her ship and cracks the seal slowly, grinning all the while. He comes out of the cryofreeze coughing and coughing, curling up on his side naked and sucking air. Her gaze slides all over him and she expects him to lurch back, to show her the same terrified weakness that every client displays. Instead he sits up and raises a brow, eyes still hidden behind his ridiculous shades, and his tone is almost bored as he says, "Sup."

He's no good at cooking. He burns the first three meals he makes for her and she decides she prefers the autochef. She puts him to work in the lower parts of the ship instead, and for a week he disappears entirely. She hears nothing, sees nothing, but the bedding is clean and the floors sparkling and the rumble of the ship's drives has lost some of the sick whine of mistreated machinery.

Apparently he's not so bad a housewife after all.

Redglare pings his slave collar and tracks the locator through the ship to the laundry room. She skulks silently up the hallway, her footsteps careful and catlike, and despite the effort he still looks up the moment she enters—glancing over his shades and nodding in acknowledgement of her presence. He's up to his elbows in soapy water at the sink, the two washing machines running in tandem in the background. Music beats out of the intercom speaker with a heavy buzzing bassline. The plate underneath the transmitter is torn out and the wires rerouted in an ugly tangle so it will play the strange electronic melody, and Redglare looks at the mess for a moment, running a finger down the doorjamb.

"That is Alternian property you've defaced," she tells him, her voice even and with a hint of threat, no trace of her actual amusement.

He shrugs, back to washing whatever it is that's hidden below the suds. "Figured I'm Alternian property too so it don't really matter." He hooks a long red sock out of the water, sopping wet and stunningly clean as he sets it aside. "I'll fix it when I'm done if it bothers you so much."

A smooth smile slides over her face. He's not afraid of her and something about that makes her blood rush with excitement. It's unexpected and she likes that. Redglare doesn't get nearly enough of that anymore. "Perhaps it doesn't bother me."

Another shrug. He doesn't seem interested in playing her games. "Better not 'cause this is a pretty dope song and I'd have to kick your ass if you were raggin' on it."

The insolence in that statement smacks Redglare silent for a moment. He says it with no fire though, only strict matter-of-fact truth and she decides that if he won't play her games she will indulge him in his own. At least for a while. "We do not have music like this on my homeworld."

"Shame."

"Is it? It seems as if something as trivial as music should not matter in the least."

He smiles, glancing over as he shakes his head, and he almost looks disappointed for a moment. "See, that's where you're wrong. Because this shit is keeping me going and making me the best damn slave you've ever had before."

Still hovering in the doorway, Redglare raises her own brow. "Are you now?"

"That's the way I figure it. Else you wouldn't let me just lurk around cleaning ninja style and come bug me about defacing equipment while I'm doing your grody laundry. It's not the usual modus operandi. You ain't the first troll who's gotten her claws in me, señorita."

"Lady Redglare," she corrects sharply.

"Lady Redglare," he says, and it comes out smooth as silk, his voice dripping with suggestive charm.

She crosses the distance between them, heels tapping harshly on the cold metal floor, and she looms over him scowling. Such an insolent slave. Such a filthy-mouthed insolent, hardheaded, impertinent slave, and she curls a cruel hand in the neck of his shirt, glaring daggers. It would be so easy to break him. So easy. But he doesn't flinch away, barely even stops washing the laundry even as their gazes meet heated behind their respective shades.

She kisses him first. He laughs and bites her lip and presses her back to the humming washing machine as he slides his sopping wet hands under her shirt.

Perhaps having an obedient slave isn't the best arrangement, Redglare muses. Perhaps a plaything is better, and he doesn't complain as she drags her fingernails up the soft flesh of his back, drawing red blood.

...
buh <_>

[KarneWarrior]

bro=kirk?

...that...actually fits quite well...

Kirk + Kamina = Bro

So Bro>Kirk.

[ceruleanTresses]

I'd be inclined to label Aradia as Data due to her emotionlessness and robotness, but she never had both of those things at the same time, and she also wasn't incredibly sweet and caring every moment of every day. (...I really like Data.)

But I think we all know that Kanaya is Troi. She is the therapist. It's her. And Eridan is Wesley because Eridan sucks. (Although perhaps it's not fair to equate a well-written, deliberately unlikable character with a poorly-written character who was intended to be likable...)

Tavros is so Barclay. His holodeck fantasies are fakey fake fake, like fairies! And I guess Dave is Riker because he's cool? Also, Equius would be Geordi if he weren't Worf, but he is totally Worf.

Someone needs to write this crossover.

[The Cool]

but be subtle about it
dont be all OH HEI GAIZ ITS STAR TrEK

or you could just straight up call it Hivetrek

[Author]

Aftermath - III

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Aradia saw Vriska's rage, and it was actually... frightening. She knew Vriska was the strongest member of their old group of friends, and even now Vriska would probably be able to follow through with that. There was nothing Vriska- no, the Marquise could say to her, and nothing she could say to make quell the Marquise's rage. She flinched as the Marquise slammed her against the wall, screaming in rage,
"Why the hell would you come here? You wanna fucking mock me? Didja come to shove your victory in my face? Why do you think I even give a shit?!?! I don't care about you, him, or anybody any fucking more! I haven't since you stole him!" Aradia looks back at the Marquise, and lightly touches her cheek.
"Vriska... You're not angry at me. You're angry at him. For not choosing you. And I'm okay with that. I'm... I'm okay with a lot of things right now."
The Marquise grabbed her hand, slamming it back against the wall. She flicks up her glasses, and Aradia looked away. She wore sunglasses now, and she had a damn good reason for it. Her Vision Eightfold had grown to a massive degree. Mere eye contact would put you under her control.
The Marquise grinned as she whispered in Aradia's ear, "You really think so? You think I wouldn't just kill you right fucking now? Just to spite him? I would Megido, and you're lucky I just don't care. Because you and I both know why you're here, I just have to rip it from your head."
Aradia gasped as she felt the Marquise's mind begin to seep into her own, and she fought. Oh, how she fought. But it didn't matter. The Marquise - Vriska Mindfang - always got what she wanted. No matter what. Aradia shrieked as she felt the Marquise tear away moments, private moments, moments she held dear, and then dropped to the ground as the Marquise finished, stepping away with a curled lip.

"Can't believe it. You didn't take him away to spite me. You actually care for him. What a fucking waste Megido. As if he even knows you exist anymore. They're all too busy to help out their old friends."

Aradia shook her head. No, that wasn't true. She knew, she always had known, that their old friends would always care for them. They'd been through so much together, they couldn't just let those moments go...

Right?

The Marquise snickered at Aradia's adamant refusal.

"Megido, you don't get it. You know why the Hemospectrum wasn't banished don't you? You know why you started your fucking revolution, right?" Aradia blushed. She hadn't known, actually. None of them had. But they were all pissed, really, really, pissed at how the Empress had gone back on her word.

The Marquise let out a roar of laughter.

"Ha...Hahahaha....HAHAHAHAHA! You're kidding Megido! Of course Feferi had a reason! You and your friends, such a fucking waste. You even got Equius on your side. And he knew why the Hemospectrum wasn't abolished!" Aradia gaped at the Marquise's outburst. Equius couldn't have known. He would have told them right? He was their friend. And by the time the Empress took her throne, Equius had changed. He put friendship before blood. He was... better then most of his blood color. The Marquise continued to talk, and Aradia shuddered at the words that came out of that silver tongue.

"Civil fucking war Megido. Most of the trolls were fine with the Hemospectrum. Had no idea about all your bullshit. Besides, by then we knew the real reason Vantas was a mutant. You remember that... right?" Aradia shuddered. Of course she remembered. It wasn't his blood that made Karkat a mutant. It was his ancestor. Kavarian Darkmoon, who also had candy red blood. Kavarian hated the hemospectrum, so he abolished himself. He slit the Empress' throat in front of the entire royal court, and declared himself High King. The Grand Highblood responded in kind, casually cutting off Kavarian's head from across the room. But Aradia didn't like to think about that, and she replied,

"Of course I remember that Vriska. But is that any reason to declare war? And take no prisoners?" The Marquise grinned.

"Megido, you and your stupid cadre of fuck-ups left right before Feferi underwent her Ceremony. You all had better shit to do. The Ceremony changes a troll, makes them become the Empress. You saw the Coronation, where she put on the crown, right? That crown has a secret Megido. And that secret is what gives the Empress ultimate power." Aradia stared at the Marquise. There was no way she could be serious. But... then why was she loathe to think of the Empress as... Feferi? Of the Marquise as... Vriska? The Marquise cackled.

"Of course Megido. That crown holds knowledge. All of the past Empress', Emperors' knowledge is passed on through that crown. Feferi knows what would happen if we don't destroy your precious lover's planet. They'll think we're weak. And while those that your stupid Decadent Nitwits call 'saviors' are alright, the rest would jump on us in an instant, then argue over the remaining pieces. So come on Megido... You're here for a reason. Look at Tavros. He changed so much since you last saw him." A gleam came into the Marquise's eye.

"I'm quite proud of that, as a matter of fact." Aradia gasped.
"No... You... you didn't... you couldn't have..."

The Marquise grinned widely. "I did Megido. I broke him. And..."

She stared Aradia right in the eye.

"I sure as hell can break you."

Elsewhere...

A man in a suit flips quickly through papers. He's... quite good-looking, as a matter of fact. His messy black hair frames his face, with a pair of fine glasses resting on his nose. The sleeves of his white shirt are rolled back, and he's constantly glancing towards the door. Another man saunters in, as if he's got all the time in the world. He doesn't have time to deal with the first one's bullshit, but he'll sure as hell waste the first one's time. The second man sits down in a chair, and leans back in before smirking at the other one.

"So Egbert, glad you became Supreme Commander of Earth?" John glares at his old friend.
"Screw you Dave, you knew it was a pain in the ass to do this. All the paperwork, the stupid phone calls, and the god damned aliens, if I knew that SBurb was an entry-point to Star Trek, I would never've played that game with you." Dave just grinned as he pulled out a cigarette.

"Bullshit Egbert. You totally would have back then. You'd have been all like 'ALIENS?!?!? Count me in!'" Dave took a long drag off the cigarette before letting the smoke go. John smiled. "Yeah, you're right. But still, do you know how many complaints I get? I swear, some people whine about everything! Listen to this one... 'Dear Mr. President, I am upset about my neighbor, Xvadica, because he keeps trying to eat me alive! I know he is because everytime he goes out to by himself a cup of Flargen, he glares at me! Please help!' It's just ridiculous Dave." Dave nodded sagely as he looks around John's office.
"You've got it easy compared to Rose and Jade though, Egbert. Nobody knows why the fuck they decided to start a "Old Books and Cuddly Kooks" business. Together." John grinned at his friend. "You know... we need to all get back together sometime. Maybe fly to Alternia."

Dave was instantly grinning hugely at John, watching the commander began to blush.

"Shut up Dave, it's nothing like that."
"But John, I didn't say aaaanything."
"Stop smiling at me like that! It's creepy!"
"Awww. Will your crazy girlfriend kill me or something?"
"We're not dating!"
"Tabloids beg to differ."
"You mean the ones that say you're dating four women at once?"
"Damn straight. They can't be wrong Egbert."

The two men argued back and forth until they heard a polite cough nearby. As they looked up, they see a troll standing in front of them. Her hair was about neck length, and one eyebrow is raised loftily above her amber eyes. A slight smile emerges on her face as she watches the two attempt to come up with an excuse.

"Oh Kanaya! Yeah... um... We were totally planning on telling you about this trip!"
"Yeah, Egbert and I would never leave without you! You're our backup!"
"And um... Dave really wanted to see... er... Equius! Yeah!"

Dave stopped, and glared at John.

"Fuck you Egbert, he still creeps me out." Kanaya coughed politely.

"I am sorry to interrupt your superfluous, irrational, argument, but both Rose and Jade are here. Perhaps we could all discuss this trip together...?"

The two nodded vigorously as Jade and Rose walked in. Rose near instantaneously was next to the three, asking, "What's this I hear about a trip to Alternia? John, are you ignoring your paperwork again?" John attempted to stammer out an excuse while Jade giggled. "Of course he is Rose! Why would anybody ever want to do all that boring work?"

Rose pursed her lips.
"John, Alternia is preparing for war. We're not sure against who yet, but it does not appear to be a good outlook for a visit." Dave and John exchanged glances. It was time. They had to do it now. They had to use their ultimate best bro technique.

Best Bro Operandi Lv. 47: Epic Bullshit.

Dave began.

"But Rose, that means it's the fuckin' best time to go! John can use his diplomatic shit to help stop the war!" John went next, saying,
"And without my help, Alternia can't go to war! They're still recovering from all the damage!"

Rose sighed. Clearly this was going to take a while to calm down.

Back on Alternia...

The Marquise stood in front of the Empress, Aradia at her side. The Empress was walking around Aradia, looking up and down. She turned to the Marquise, asking her a question,

"Did it work? Is she ours?" The Marquise glared at her. How dare she? Why would she ever consider doubting her, the greatest of all mindbreakers?

"Of course. She's ours in mind, body, and soul Feferi. But enough about that. How are preparations for the war?" The Empress sighed profusely.

"We've hit a setback."
"What?"
"Well... They want to come and visit."

The Marquise stopped dead for a second.

"...Shit."

A/N:

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Man that was the most fun to write yet. I loved Dave and John's interaction the best. It made me feel all amused inside.

Guess which part was the hardest to write?

No, not Vriska and Aradia.
Nope, not the ending.
Not the Elsewhere bit.

That prize goes to "Deciding whether John or Dave should be the Supreme Commander of Earth."

[Ryavis]

Terezi is Geordi.

They have to keep reminding her not to lick the warp core.

[ceruleanTresses]

Terezi is Geordi.

They have to keep reminding her not to lick the warp core.

...HOW DID I NOT THINK OF THAT.

You are a genius.

[starburst98]

@Author: so... vriska is mad at aradia for stealing john or something? it's kinda hard to tell what was happening, sorry.

[Path]

Hivetrek Casting

I might argue for Rose as Data. Methodical, peculiar speaking tone, close friends with John/Picard. Co-starring Mutie as Spot.

[Author]

@Author: so... vriska is mad at aradia for stealing john or something? it's kinda hard to tell what was happening, sorry.

Oh man I totally meant for it to be hard to tell what is happening.

Because I'm a total asshole like that.

EDIT: But hey, at least all the crazy shit that went on finally makes sense now. Because I retconned something in.

[ceruleanTresses]

Hivetrek Casting

I might argue for Rose as Data. Methodical, peculiar speaking tone, close friends with John/Picard. Co-starring Mutie as Spot.

...The Mutie aspect makes that so goddamned awesome. However will we choose between Rose and Aradia?

We also have to figure out who Karkat is. That's imperative.

Also Feferi is Dr. Crusher.

OOOOOH, maybe Karkat is that one guy who took over the ship temporarily during Chain of Command, and got everyone's asses in gear?

[KarneWarrior]

Aradia is a redshirt.

Just saying.

[ceruleanTresses]

Oh god yes! Aradia is ALL THE REDSHIRTS. ALL OF THEM.

Which makes Rose Data! She can compose flowery poems about Mutie while Dave Riker facepalms!

Now the new question is: Who is Q? Doc Scratch maybe? Their personalities don't quite mesh though...