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

[anonymousComrade]

Because doomed timelines are pretty fun to write in.

Swipes of red and teal, part 1

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Three knocks. Karkat looked around as the door to his room opened. "H3Y K4RKL3S."

He got up. "TEREZI? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?"

"OH, YOU KNOW, JUST DROPP1ING BY." She slipped into his room, a cane swung on one shoulder. "WH4CH4 DO1NG, 4NYW4Y?"

"I WAS JUST GOING TO WATCH A MOVIE, NOTHING SPECIAL."

A silence fell.

"W3LL?"

"WHAT WELL?"

"4R3N'T YOU GO1NG TO 1NV1T3 M3 TO JO1N YOU?"

Karkat looked away uncomfortably. "WELL, I WOULD, BUT, YOU KNOW..." he waved a hand in front of her face.

Terezi grabbed him by the wrist. "1 C4N S33 MOR3 TH4N YOU TH1NK, 4ND SM3LL 3V3N MOR3." she sniffed. "SP34K1NG OF..." pushing him aside, she jumped onto the couch and grabbed the bowl of Troll M&M's Karkat always snacked on during movies.

"YOU KNOW 1 L1K3 TH3S3, 4S 1F YOU WOULD 1NV1T3 M3 OVER 4NYW4Y." she grinned at him while he sat down next to her.

"YEAH? WELL I LIKE THEM TOO. DON'T THINK THEY MEAN ANYTHING."

"WH4T3V3R GROUCHK4T, JUST ST4RT TH3 MOV13 ALR34DY."

--

The movie ended about two hours later. During that time, the two trolls had emptied the bowl of chocolates, during which their hands grabbed each other about a dozen times. Karkat always glanced at Terezi when they did, but she didn't seem to notice, care or mind. During the obligatory they-break-up-because-s(he)-did-something-wrong part of the movie, Terezi had crept closer to Karkat, wrapping her arms around one of his. During the part where the wronged party is asked for forgiveness (or to not murder the party that wronged it, Troll movies are a bit more complicated on this matter), she had laid her head in his lap. Karkat stared at the screen as hard as he could, not wanting Terezi to see his head turn red from a blush.

When the movie ended in the traditional, and-they-filled-pails-happily/angrily-ever-after fashion, Terezi yawned and stretched her arms. "1 R34LLY DON'T G3T WH4T YOU S33 1N TH3S3 MOV13S."

Karkat looked down at Terezi, who smiled her characteristic wide smile. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN?"

"W3LL... FOR ST4RT3RS, TH3Y 4R3 V3RY UNL1K3LY." she sat up and turned around, sitting on her knees next to Karkat. "1 M34N, WH4T'S TH3 L1K3L1N3SS OF TH4T M4NY TROLLS F1ND1NG LOV3 1N SOM3ON3 OF TH31R OWN WR1GGL1NG B4TCH, WHO TH3Y H4V3 KNOWN TH31R WHOL3 L1V3S? YOU S33 TH4T PLOT 3V3RYWH3R3."

"SO? THERE ARE PLENTY MORE PLOTS THAN THAT." Karkat turned to face Terezi.

"TH4T'S NOT MY PO1NT. YOU H4V3 4LL SORTS OF STOR13S ABOUT TH3 MOST UNL1K3LY OF ROM4NC3S, 1NCLUD1NG H1GH 4ND LOWBLOODS 4LL OV3R TH3 PL4C3. 4LL V3RY UNL1K3LY."

"IT'S ALWAYS UNLIKELY. NAME ANY QUADRANT, AND TELL ME HOW IT WAS FILLED IN A WAY THAT WASN'T WAY UNLIKELY TO HAPPEN. THAT'S HOW QUADRANTS WORK." Karkat told her.

"TH3 TH1NG 1S, 1T 4LW4YS ST4RTS 1N TH3 S4M3 W4Y. G1RL M33TS GUY, ST4RTS TO L1K3 OR H4T3 H1M, TR13S TO F1GUR3 OUT 1N WH1ICH QU4DR4NT H3 GO3S..." she smiled, but a smaller smile this time.

"I DON'T GET WHERE YOU'RE GOING WITH THIS..."

"3V3NTU4LLY SH3 TH1NKS H3 WOULD B3 4 P3RF3CT M4T3SP1R1T, WH3R3 TH3 H4RD P4RT B3G1NS: F1ND1NG OUT 1F H3 L1K3S H3R TOO."

"I... AH, YOU MEAN..." Karkat began to form a pretty good idea what she was talking about.

"H3 DO3SN'T 1MM3D14T3LY R3J3CT H3R, SO SH3 TH1NKS SH3 H4S 4 PR3TTY GOOD SHOT 4T H1M." she began to run a finger over the back of his hand that was resting on the back of the couch. He stopped her by grabbing her hand and holding it gently.

"TH3N TH3Y 4R3 TOG3TH3R FOR 4 MOM3NT, 4ND W1THOUT F34R FOR JUDG3M3NT BY OTH3RS, TH3Y SHOW 34CHOTH3R WH4T TH3Y 4R3 R34LLY L1K3."

Karkat pulled up his legs and sat down in front of Terezi, just as she sat in front of him. "TH3 L1TTL3 TH1NGS TH3Y L1K3, TH3T M4K3S TH3M H4PPY, TH4T TURNS TH3M 1NTO W4X 1N TH31R M4T3'S H4NDS..."

With his free hand, Karkat carefully removed Terezi's glasses and put them in the now-empty bowl behind him. "HER SOFT VOICE, HER SENSE OF HUMOR, HER INTELLIGENCE..." he ran a hand over her cheek, and got closer in a way that put her knees in between his. "HER SOFT SKIN, CUTE SHARP HORNS, GREAT FIGURE, BEAUTIFUL EYES..."

"3H... 1 W4SN'T R34LLY T4LK1NG 4BOUT 4NYON3 1N P4RT1CULAR, K4RCUT3-" she stopped at her mispronounciation.

"BUT I AM." before she could respond, Karkat put a hand behind her head and kissed her. Terezi tried to struggle with a muffled "413", until she realised something.

Karkat Vantas tastes DELICIOUS.

She wasn't sure what the finishing ingredient was; the raw emotion, the chocolate still on his lips, or the decadent red strawberry-cherry fruit blast that was his blood running just below his lips. Whatever it was, she loved it. Wrapping her hands around his neck and pushing him onto his back, Karkat had his arms free to hug Terezi as tightly as he could. They laid there together for a length time that they would only be able to describe with three words:

Way too short.

Atuhor's Nose:

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Part 2 wil describe the doomed timeline part. Originally intended as one big story, it grew out of hand during the writing process. Oh well.

Troll M&M's are painted with food dye made from dead grubs. Kinda gross when you think about it.

I may be saying this because I'm a sucker for Karkat/Terezi

But I loved this, which means the second part is just going to make me cry all my tears

Also: at your notes

[SkaianRedeemer]

Just wait until part 2, when FieryBlacksmith tells us out to make our own Troll Chocolate.

In the meantime, our M&Ms are dyed with coal tar (okay, okay, it's just petroleum now, sheesh).

[sebastian]

Apparently everybody seems to se Karkat's ancestor as a military leader and Badass Warrior but to be fair there is nothing in canon that show Karkat as a better warrior than the average troll or especially good at tactics, what he is good at is 1) making people works together and 2) a master of troll romance. So I imagine his ancestor as the one responsable for the unification of the Alternian empire, I'm picturing the trolls in the period before that living in tribes or clans based by blood color, with ih mutant blood he was an outcast and yet somehow he was able to make trolls of different blood working together and in doing so creating the bases of the future empire.

Maybe he was the "inventor" of the quadrants system, the relationships probably already existed but he was the one that formalized the quadrants in the way they are now making it the common foundation over which the future empire was build.

actually my headcanon is that Karkat's ancestor was Troll Ghandi.

So yeah.

Troll ... Ghandi!?

I'd be really curious to see how that would be.

I imagine his lessons something like "if someone slap you, YOU BREAK HIS FUCKING ARM!!!"

Which is good because the standard answer before him was "you rip off his fucking arm and beat him to death with it" so, yeah...

[Jim Groovester]

Behold comments from five six pages of fanfic thread: Y/N?

@RogerMexico: Liking RESET so far. You've got Karkat down perfectly, including his penchant for ridiculous and hilarious metaphors. I also like your backstory psycheout. Looking forward to more.

@Embargo: I'm liking Aristocratic Outcast. I don't have too much to say on it, I'm just enjoying the ride.

@ceruleanTresses: Nice introductions. It's clear you put a lot of thought into these characters. Everything about them works very well.

@Rio: I'm getting some Oedipus Complex vibes from this. Not that there's a problem with exploring something like that, but I'm not sure that's what you were going for.

@Path: A fic extolling all of Snowman's finest qualities. Excellent work as always.

@FieryBlacksmith: Oh, goodness, this is a doomed timeline? You're terrible to do that to them. And by that I mean please continue because I can't look away now.

Promptfics:

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@mutecebu: For how short these were they were terrific. You're very effective in the limited space you wrote.

@draconicAlgorithm: I don't know how you managed to make that prompt into the fic you did, but you did it beautifully.

@Violet CLM: I liked this. It's good to see that there's something meaningful Eridan can do now that he's dead. And your comments about everything he's done being for the best are spot on.

@Ryavis: I don't really see a thing like edibility stopping WV from eating anything, but I liked this all the same. It's cool to see him exploring the wasteland on his own, entertaining himself through whatever means possible.

Just wait until part 2, when FieryBlacksmith tells us out to make our own Troll Chocolate.

They don't call 'em fudgebloods for nothing.

[Doodled]

Sapphire of Alternia has 15 parts already?!?!

O_O

Dear jegus!

[ceruleanTresses]

@ceruleanTresses: Nice introductions. It's clear you put a lot of thought into these characters. Everything about them works very well.

Aaah thank you so much! I'm actually in the process of writing a followup that explores the relationship between the Thief and the Rogue, which I hope will end up coming out all right.

[zebtrestalala]

Going along with the whole march madness thing.

I Feel Pretty

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“Son, wwhat the flyin fish are you wwearin.”

“SHUT UP DAD you never understand me”

It was such a mistake to bring his lusus back. Now that it could talk, it was always, “ Son, I’m so fishappointed” this, and “son, that scarf clashes horribly with your pants” that, and “SON, why the hell are you just standin there cryin in the corner” that whole other thing. And now this? Eridan was just trying to express himself. He just wanted to be…pretty.

“You’re right son, I sure as hell don’t understand wwhy you’re dressed like a fuckin nancy.”

“YOU NEVVER LET ME DO WWHAT I WWANT honestly im just expressin myself dad wwhy cant you let me be”

Seahorsedadsprite let out a sigh. It was hard, trying be a responsible parent to a whiny little wiggler. It was hard and nobody understood.

“Come on, son, let’s just go hunt wwhales or something.”

“there arent any more wwhales dad they died wwith the rest of alternia now theres just angels wwith there gnashin teeth and horrible clawws an really bright an tacky colors”

“Wwell, tell you wwhat son, wwe can go out and hunt some of those angels if you CHANGE OUT OF A FUCKIN SKIRT.”

“You dont get it dad its an underground sorta thing you wwouldnt understand”

“Your damn right I don’t! You’re my charge and there’s no wway you’re going outside wearing that shirt! It’s for a girl, for frying out loud!”

Eridan tugged at his pig tails in frustration. This was so stupid. Stupid dads always thinking they know best and not letting your express yourself. Can’t he see how hip this is? How he just wants to be pretty for once in his life?

“Look, Eridan, I don’t care if this is a cry for attention, you’re doin it all wwrong.”

“Youre just jealous you dont look as pretty as I do! Evverybodys jealous! They told me I would look pretty!”

And so it went. On. And on. And on.

Meanwhile….

A unseen trio sits around a computer screen. One of them is rolling on the floor in laughter, another is attempting to stifle some giggles, and one is looking on in a mixture of horror and amusement.

“Oh my god KA you really came through on thii2 one!” says the one rolling on the floor. This was by far one of the most amusing things Sollux had seen in quite a while. “Oh my god, he look2 liike such an iidiiot!”

“You know, Sollux, )(e mig)(t get the wrong idea from this!” says another behind stifled giggles. Though as an ex-moirail Feferi tried not to laugh to hard, she had to admit that Eridan looked like quite the fool in his dress, and his lusus’s reaction to it was PRIC---EL---ESS. “)(e already t)(inks of you as a kismesis!”

“Well, that’s ju2t cau2e he’2 a sore loser FF. Riight now II don’t really care how Eriidan reacts two this.”

“I Would Rather That I Did Not Have To Auspitize Between You And Eridan, Sollux.”

“Don’t worry kanaya you got nothiing two worry about. I won’t even thiink about mentiioniing who gave you the iidea to giive him all those clothes.”

“I Would Rather Prefer If I Stayed Out Of Your Flirtatious Rivalry So Thank You.” She was almost in disbelief that she had traveled through six lands to reach Sollux’s. At one point she had even had to stop and raid Eridan’s world for a good pattern to use, though the stop was short and for better or for worse she didn’t run into the young troll. But now, oh lord…

“Oh my glub, look at )(ow )(e’s WALKING! You’d )(hink )(e’s putting on a fas)(ion s)(ow for us!”

Ugh. There was no fashion in that troll. She wasn’t sure if he was better off with that hideous cape and that tacky scarf.

On second thought, maybe I should have just gone with polka dots she thought. But for now, she just watched her horrible abomination of a model, and let out a small chuckle.

[lantadyme]

Eventually I need to set aside the time to read Sapphire of Alternia, because it looks good. :[

Here's some prompt generator things I wrote last night on a whim. Can you tell which Strider I miss the most right now?

Meowgon/Davesprite – satisfaction

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He's not even sure where it comes from but he's sitting here minding his own damn business and then suddenly there's a cat yowling right in his ear, tangled up in his wings with a mouthful of feathers as it bites and pulls and tears.

"Fuck!" he yelps, jumping into the air, and he beats his wings but the little fucker has a really good hold on him, claws digging into his skin and his feathers and already he sees five or six tifts of orange float down to the lava beneath him. "Goddamn it, what the hell?" he growls, reaching around behind himself and grabbing for the little monster.

Of course if bites him. And Davesprite just keeps muttering the obscenities as he sticks the ectoplasm-dripping finger in his mouth and tries with the other hand.

"Fucking asshole cat, where did you even come from?" he bites, ripping it painfully out of his wings and holding it out in front of him by nothing but the scruff of its neck. He could just drop it in the lava. Damn thing. But it blinks at him with four eyes and the spritecode says no no don't do that, and something about that doofy face oogling cute at him with one orange feather still sticking out of its mouth just makes Davesprite sigh.

"Fine, you can stay. You pounce on me again, though, and I'll boot you straight through the second gate."

Davesprite/Casey – teacher

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Casey hops from gear to gear and the metal is always warm under her feet, inviting compared to the scalding air rising off the lava itself. She runs and her wands are always in her hands, ready if the imps come, if angry crocodiles come, if anything comes really. She feels so tiny if this world of heat and struggle and she stops to rest on the highest tooth of a stalled vertical gear.

That's when the orange harpy descends from above, all flapping feathers and the stink of ozone, and Casey points her wand and lets loose the tiniest flash of purple magic.

"Whoa!" he gasps, ducking backward, and even though she's never met this monster before Casey knows that voice.

Her eyes go wide in horror and she stuffs the wands into her sleeves, holding her hands out to him so he knows she's now unarmed. That she's sorry. He'd surprised her and that's the only reason she would ever attack a Knight.

He notices the display. His hand rests tense on the hilt of his sword, his wings beating, and he watches her for a long moment before he relaxes again. "Sorry if I spooked you."

Casey nods, hoping he understands that she feels the same. He's the strangest creature she's ever seen and the imps have been mighty strange. She doesn't know how he can have so many characteristics of the imps and still be a Knight, but she doesn't doubt it for a second. This is the Knight of Time; her master's brother. Casey sits on one tooth of the gear and watches him, her hands folded patiently in her lap. She hopes he stays.

He doesn't seem to be going anywhere. He floats there watching her and once she settles he shrugs and moves to do the same. His orange body crackles with strange energy as he sits on the tooth next to Casey's, watching her from behind his orange shades.

"I'm gonna go out on a limb here and guess you're connected to Lalonde somehow? Spooky magic shit, pretty little purple scarf. She groom you into a wizard sidekick or something?"

Casey nods. Yes, she is the Seer of Light's apprentice. It was only an hour ago she grasped the complexities of her master's magicks. She's still not very good at it, but her master had given her a quest, and Casey had set off on it.

"Cool," he says, looking out over the lava. He falls silent for a while and Casey feels privileged to sit next to a Knight. His feathers look soft but she dares not touch them. "How's she doing?" he asks eventually, and his voice is quiet and tinged with the slightest traces of worry.

Casey thinks for a moment. Her master is—different. She smiles less often and she rarely speaks anymore. She types away into her computer to beings whose text is white an unreadable and Casey isn't sure what's happening. She shakes her head, her eyes downcast and her shoulders slumping down because she is worried for her master too, and when she glances up to the Knight again he's watching her.

"Damn," he mutters, understanding what Casey hasn't said. He sounds tired. More tired than she's ever heard a person before.

Casey reaches out and sets one tiny damp hand against his arm. It surprises him. He tenses up again, his wings stiff and ready to fly, and she pulls away a second later feeling guilty. She hadn't meant to offend him. Her mouth is so dry and she's not very good with words, and she had thought that maybe a simple touch would be enough to cheer him up a little.

He watches her and he looks away again, seeming to brush it off. Like he understands. It just wasn't what he had expected from a tiny magical salamander so far from home.

"Hey," he says, looking at her suddenly. "I know she's got you doing the magic crap already, but don't let it turn you into a calamari obsessed zombie mage, okay? You seem like a sweet kid and it'd kind of suck to have the magic ruin two people." A frown. "Well, I guess you're not a person. Salamander. Whatever. Point still stands."

Casey isn't sure her master is ruined. She clings to the fact that she can still reach through the haze the Seer constantly surrounds herself with. She can still stand at her knee and smile up at her, and nearly every time the girl looks up from her crystal ball and pats Casey's head affectionately. She's not entirely gone, just shrouded. Casey reaches out again and touches this strange Knight's arm, and she looks up at him with soft eyes, hoping he can understand what she cannot articulate.

The Seer isn't beyond hope. She needs her friends to gather around her and help keep her on track, but she's not entirely lost.

He looks at her a long time, his eyes barely visible through the orange glass, but Casey can almost see them. And he looks worried, but slowly realization dawns across his face.

He laughs a little, a bitter thing but with a trace of humor. "Egbert did a good job leaving you with her," he says, smiling. "Damn kid doesn't know what the hell he's doing half the time, but he did good."

I also wrote a Sollux/Aradia pinch hit fic for the Valentine's thread. I suppose I will link it here: Beat Salesman

[PingZing]

Jim - Yesssss. You've satisfied me on the TD front, whether intentionally or not. Loved Sleuth's exasperation over the reveal; "Just another feuding couple geddemmit"

ProspitDreamer - That was adorable and excellently in character. I can't help but picture Dave writing this by hand, typing quirk intact anyway.

MizukoMidori - The atmosphere you set up sold the fic brilliantly. "Just gonna relax, take it easy holy crap half-naked alien girl"

Lantadyme - Everything you write involving Casey is amazing. Your characterization of her is now my headcanon forever. This is also the first time I've used the term headcanon. this is all your fault


And now, finally, the epilogue to Candlelight and Clockwork.

Previous chapters:
Chapter 1: Rose
Chapter 2: Dave
Chapter 3: Evening Breeze
Chapter 4: All Together Now

Candlelight and Clockwork: Epilogue

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Rose is sitting on the edge of the mattress rubbing sleep from her eyes when Dave walks in, radiating smugness. He takes his customary position leaning against the doorframe, one leg crossed in front of the other, arms folded, and a smirk on his face.

“And what, may I ask,” Rose says, yawning, “Is the cause of your latest sense of insufferably over-inflated self-satisfaction?”

Dave raises an eyebrow. “Shit Lalonde, you get even more verbose when you’re half-asleep. No, for your information, I just got done schooling some past fool in the ways of advanced alchemization. Here’s your fact for the day: shaving cream is really fucking flammable. Combine that shit with a clock in an alchemiter, and you’ve got yourself one hell of an unstable time bomb. The more you know.”

Rose simply stares sleepily at Dave and doesn’t say anything. She rubs her eyes again in lieu of a response and stands up, stretching. She arches her back with a resounding series of cracks and one huge pop! from her spine.

“Ahh…much better.” She pauses for a moment to roll her neck before continuing, “Dave, I cannot help but wonder if your abuse of your past self should be classified as mere teenaged mischief, or a deeper sense of self-loathing.”

Dave holds up his hands. “Whoa, don’t you start with that psychobabble bullshit at me. I only do this shit ironically. That and I’ve been chronologically strong-armed into it. ‘sides, Future Me did it to me, I figure it’s only fair I get a chance to do it back to Past Me.”

Rose squeezes her eyes shut and pinches the bridge of her nose. “I’ll navigate the psychological consequences of time-travel related self-abuse another time, perhaps when I’m less lethargic. And perhaps when the threat of imminent doom no longer hangs above us like our personal sword of Damocles. That does rather put a damper on psychochronological musings.”

Dave scoffs, “There’s not a single doubt in my mind that you could write a full dissertation on it complete with convoluted and unnecessary footnotes and citations sprouting out of every page. But we’ve got more important things to worry about. We’re near the end of this iteration, so wake Narcolepto over there up.”

Rose looks over at John and Dave follows her gaze. Silence weighs heavily on the two of them, both unwilling to break the tranquility of the scene.

Eventually, Rose heaves a sigh. “It’s such a shame, you know. There’s simply not enough time.”

“The hell are you talking about? We’ve got more time than an antique clock shop up in here.”

Rose shakes her head. “No, we have no more than an hour. Yes, we have the option of repeating that same hour endlessly, but it isn’t the same. In this one hour, what changes? Everything is already predestined in this hour. The existence of fate is not something I find myself very comfortable with.”

“See, there’s your problem. I keep saying you can’t overthink this time travel shit. Just gives you a headache.”

“Not all of us can be as blissfully apathetic about our situation, Dave. I have to admit some envy toward your indifference.”

Dave finally turns away from John to look at Rose. “You’re just grumpy because you can’t get a decent nap.”

Rose snorts a laugh before she can catch herself, and refuses to make eye contact with Dave. “Yes, the source of my frustration is sleeplessness, not existential conundrums,” she says, and moves toward John.

She shakes him awake and presses his glasses into his groping hand. He gives her a mumbled “Thnks” and sits up, blinking blearily.

“Rise and shine Egbert, we’re gonna go wreck causality’s shit some more,” says Dave.

“…huh?” John replies eloquently.

“What Dave means to say is it’s again time to reverse by an hour. You’ve got to get up,” Rose adds.

John blinks owlishly at the two of them for a moment before yawning. “But I just fell asleep!” He says. “And I had some really good dreams too…I think you were in them, Rose!”

“Really? Perhaps you can tell me about them after we reverse again. It really is imperative that we get moving,” Rose says.

“In fact,” John says, ignoring her, “I’m pretty sure the reason it was a good dream was because you were there.”

Dave’s waggles his eyebrows suggestively at John. “Really now. Just what were you dreaming of, Egbert?”

John looks blankly up at Dave. “What?”

Dave says nothing, waiting.

John’s eyes widen. “Oh! Oh, no! Nothing like…that. Oh geez, no way Dave,” John says, blushing furiously.

Rose pokes her head out of the doorway for a moment before drawing back. “If you’re done antagonizing John, Dave, I believe our past-selves have just departed. We can leave at any time.”

John stands up, legs shaking slightly. “Wait a minute. I want to make something before we go. Where’s your alchemiter, Rose?”

Rose frowns. “Downstairs and on a platform outside. Why do you need it?”

John gets up and wobbles his way to the doorway. He pokes his head into the hall and looks both ways. After confirming that the past-selves are nowhere to be seen he slips into the room next door. Rose and Dave exchange a glance and follow.

When they peer inside, they find John tiptoeing across to the end table with the sleeping Past Dave’s shades on them. John reaches out to the shades and is just about to captchalogue them when Past Dave grunts and rolls over. John freezes, arm outstretched and stares at him, every muscle tensed. Finally, Past Dave’s breath resumes the even rhythm of the sleeping and John relaxes. He captchalogues the shades without incident and returns to the doorway.

“The hell are you doing with my shades man?” Dave whispers. “Don’t tell me you think you’re nearly cool enough to wear those. It’s a miracle I don’t freeze mine they’re so chilled by my presence.”

John rolls his eyes. “Which way did you say the alchemiter was, Rose?” He whispers, ignoring Dave.

“This way,” Rose whispers back, taking the lead. “Though I too am curious as to your actions at the moment. What exactly are you trying to accomplish?” She asks, turning to John.

John walks beside Rose, staring straight ahead. “Don’t worry, you’ll see. I have a plan!”

The trio makes its way out to the alchemiter platform, Rose and John squinting at the sudden brightness. One of the many golden clouds is currently hovering over the platform, and slowly dampening the group. John waves one of his hands up at the clouds, and a sudden gust of wind blows them away, clearing the air directly above them. Dave raises his eyebrows in mute appreciation and Rose nods, impressed.

John makes his way over to the upgraded alchemiter and slots a blank card into the Designix portion of the alchemiter. He enters the code for Dave’s sunglasses and punches the card.

“Hey Rose,” John asks, turning to her, “What’s the captcha code for your scarf?”

“My scarf?” Rose asks, confused.

“Yep!” John says, “That should do the trick here!”

Rose shrugs, and unties the scarf and captchalogues it. She hands the card to John, who flips it over and enters the code into the Designix and punches the blank card again. John thanks Rose, and hands her back the scarf’s captcha card.

“Do you have any intention of revealing your plan, John? All this mystery is, appropriately, baffling,” Rose says, retying the scarf around her waist.

John removes the captcha card from the Designix and slots it into the totem pedestal. “Just a sec! You’ll see real soon, I promise!” He says.

The alchemiter projects a hologram of the card’s associated totem. John activates the alchemiter and it scans the totem-hologram. With a flash of light, the item is produced and appears in the center of the alchemiter’s platform.

John walks over, picks up the newly-created item and hands it to Rose. She takes it, and turns it over in her hands for a moment, examining it. It is a pair of slender glasses with angular silver frames and dark purple lenses. Rose looks up at John, her expression blank.

“John.”

“Yeah?”

“Did you make me rose-tinted glasses?”

“Yep! I heard you and Dave talking about how his shades kept him safe from the horrorterrors when time traveling or whatever, and thought maybe if you had a pair…” He trails off, uncertain.

Rose eyes John critically. Any other day, Rose would’ve considered John’s actions to be the ultimate in passive-aggression condescension. A pun on her name, no less! She had barely been able to take his birthday gift and its associated note at face value. But…that had been nothing but handwriting and text. With the boy standing in front of her, with his earnest smile and hopeful expression, it is difficult to interpret his actions as anything but honest concern for a friend.

Rose puts on the glasses. “Thank you John. They’re perfect.”

John’s smile redoubles its efforts to take up the entirety of his face. “You’re welcome Rose! I hope they work!”

“Ya’ll done being sappier than an entire grove of maple trees so we can finally make this happen?” Dave says, his Timetables at the ready.

“Just a second! I have to go put your shades back!” John says, running into the house before either Rose or Dave has a chance to protest.

The two of them are left standing outside with the only sound being the distant and omnipresent drumming of the rain. Without John’s intervention, the clouds slowly begin to drift back over the alchemiter’s platform and both Rose and Dave are soon being rained on once more. They stand side by side in silence for a time.

“I’m surprised you’ve refrained from comment thus far, Dave,” Rose says.

“This may come as a shock to you Rose, but sometimes I just got nothin’ to say. You’ll just have to deal without my sick burns for once,” he returns.

“Would it be fair to say that a damper has been put upon the aforementioned burns for now?” Rose asks with a significant look up at the rain clouds above them.

Dave stifles a groan with a hand over his face. “Oh gog, he’s affecting your sense of humor now. I don’t know if I can handle that many puns in a day.”

“At least he isn’t affecting my speech patterns like a particular troll I could name,” Rose says smugly.

“…touché Lalonde, touché.”

John bursts back out of the house and stops, out of breath and panting. He leans forward and rests his hands on his knees for a moment before straightening.

“Okay! Ready whenever, you guys!” he says.

Rose turns so she’s facing Dave, checks to ensure her new glasses are still present and places her hand on Dave’s shoulder. John does the same with Dave’s other shoulder. Dave spins up the Timetables, and just as they’re about to depart, Rose slides her hand into John’s and holds on tight. If he’d been inclined to look at Rose at the moment, John would’ve noticed that she was clenching her jaw a little more tightly than was maybe necessary—that the lines of her face were a little tighter, her breathing a little more ragged.

Even though John didn’t see any of that, he still understood what the gesture meant. He gives Rose’s hand a reassuring squeeze in response. He says everything he needs to without a single word.

Everything is going to be okay.

The three disappear again in a flash of light.

**

They will arrive an hour in the past again. John will inquire about Rose’s glasses, and she will inform him that they worked just fine, and thank him again. If asked, Dave will pretend he didn’t see Rose take John by the hand. There are just some things you do for you best bro, or even your paradox-sister. If that involves willful denial and temporary blindness, then so be it. You know they’d do the same for you, even if you’d never say it out loud.

The next eight iterations of the same hour will pass relatively uneventfully. There are perhaps one or two snapshots that bear examination.

**

“Hi Rose!”

Rose stops in her tracks, momentarily bewildered. “John? What are you doing in my kitchen?”

John turns his head toward her, smiling sheepishly. “I got tired of just sitting around in bed, and I’m feeling a lot better anyway. I thought I’d do something useful!”

Rose narrows her eyes. “That’s…fine, John. But the source of my confusion is the fact that not two minutes ago, you were asleep on the bed upstairs.”

John’s face brightens in understanding. “Oh! Right! Time travel, Rose, duh! I forgot, you’re from the first iteration still, huh?” John turns back to stove, and begins fiddling with one of the dials. “Do you have any matches around here?”

Rose blinks for a moment, perturbed by the apparent non-sequitur before opening one of the drawers under the kitchen counters and pulling out a box of matches. “What is it exactly that you’re doing down here?” She asks, handing the box to John.

“Well,” John begins, leaning down to look at the stove’s burners, “I thought I’d make us some food, because I’m feeling sorta hungry. I mentioned it to you, and you told me to go check out the kitchen. You said you’d come help me in a bit, but I didn’t think you meant past-you! Where are your pots?”

Rose points out a cabinet to John’s right and he clanks around inside for a moment before drawing a suitably large pot out and placing it on the stove.

“John,” Rose says, furrowing her brow, “You do realize that the house’s power is out, right?”

“Yeah, I thought that was gonna be a problem at first, but nope! Turns out you’ve got a gas stove!”

“I suppose I’m not as well-versed as you are with cooking appliances, but I fail to understand how that makes a difference.”

“Well,” John says, turning one of the knobs on the stove, “With a gas stove, only the ignitey part actually needs electricity. If you turn on the gas, all you need to light it is…” John strikes the match and carefully brings the flame near the stove’s burner. With a whoosh, the gas catches fire and settles into a steady blue burn. “…a flame!” John waves the match out and sets it aside.

John grabs a large can of chicken noodle soup from the counter next to him—Was that in the pantry? Rose wonders—and carefully pours it into the pot.

Rose watches over John’s shoulder as he adjusts the burners and stirs the soup slowly, methodically. John is uncharacteristically silent and Rose is almost tempted to hold her breath, lest she otherwise break the tranquility. As she listens to the silence, Rose hears the things that make it incomplete; the quiet hissing of the burners, the clink of the wooden spoon on the edges of the pot, the quiet humming of…what is that?

As Rose narrows her eyes and listens more closely, she realizes that the humming is coming from John. He’s humming a slow, almost mournful tune under his breath and swaying subtly in time with it. Rose realizes that while she’s seen still pictures of John before the game, and live video of him afterward, it’s not the same as meeting him in person. As he stands there stirring far too much soup for a single person, humming happily to himself, utterly focused, Rose thinks that she prefers it this way.

It would not occur to her until much later that John’s good mood was the result of another’s presence, rather than the simple act of cooking.

**

Approximately one hour after a harried-looking Dave and a determined Rose haul in an unconscious John into Rose’s home, ten separate versions of the trio exit again. Twenty-seven warp an hour into the past, and three watch the flashes of light fire off one by one.

Rose turns to Dave. “Any other loops to fulfill?”

Dave looks at the house and shrugs. “Don’t think so. I’ll need to be back eight hours from now to wake my lazyass past self up, but I can worry about that later.”

Rose nods and turns to John. “Think you’re sufficiently recovered from your mysterious illness?”

“Yeah, I feel fine now. Dunno what was up earlier, but I’m good to go!”

“I suppose it’s time, then. Follow me, it’s a short flight to my Land’s second gate.” Rose brandishes her Thorns and is borne aloft by their power.

Dave removes Unreal Air from his sylladex and quickly hops on it before it can float away without him. John lifts himself into the air with his newfound control over the wind, barely ruffling the sand around him. The three fly in silence toward a single white dot in the distance, a tiny island of sand in the middle of the ocean. They land beneath the swirling spirograph symbol, and wait for the noise of their passage to die down.

“Everyone remember the plan?” John asks once everyone can hear again.

“Oh dear, I seem to have forgotten already,” says Rose.

“Geez Rose! Really? You and Dave go to Lohac and do whatever it is you said you had to do, then I—”

“—go to the battlefield and retrieve the Tumor. I know John, I was being sarcastic.”

“…oh. Well.” John coughs.

Dave rolls his eyes and allows Unreal Air to float a few feet off the ground. “Okay, I’m out. You two are gonna take longer than an old lady paying at a grocery store on senior discount day. I’ll be on the other side doing important shit while you old biddies hunt down every coupon in your purses.” Dave adjusts his weight on the board and goes shooting up through the gate.

Rose and John turn back to face each other, and their eyes meet. Quick as a flash, Rose leans forward and kisses John on the cheek. “Stay safe,” she whispers, and maintains eye contact for an instant longer before flying up through the gate.

John stares at nothing for a moment before he brings his hand to his face. His smile outshines the Land around him.

**

Elsewhere, a silly girl claps her hands together and attempts to lean closer to a par of complicated-looking glasses perched on her face, and only succeeds in leaning forward.

“Eeeeee!” she squeals happily, “They are so cute together!”

fin

Notes

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Oh hey look, turns out this was a JohnxRose thing all along. WHAT A SURPRISE.
Yeah, no, not really. I hope this doesn't get lost in the near-page-100 shuffle, but if it does, oh well.
Funny note! This was originally going to be part of Chapter 4. That would've made Ch. 4 6000 words long, compared to the ~1500-2000 words of the other three. That would've been ridiculous.

[Graven_Image]

Indystuck

Chapter 30

Gotta get one more out before the thread is over.

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OPEN SPRITELOG

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MONITORSPRITE: ...
MONITORSPRITE: Reboot complete.
MONITORSPRITE: PrOSpit version 8.14 installed successfully.
MONITORSPRITE: Hello, Knight. How may I assist you?
VIRIDIAN: Umm...
VERDIGRIS: I'll handle this.
VERDIGRIS: Computer!
MONITORSPRITE: I am not identified as "Computer." My name is currently "Monitorsprite". Would you like to change that now?
VERDIGRIS: Yes.
MONITORSPRITE: Please state desired identification.VERDIGRIS: ...Computer.
COMPUTER: I am now computer.
VERDIGRIS: Computer, relay all information related to the game "Sburb."
COMPUTER: I am sorry, but you are not authorized to make that command.
VERDIGRIS: Well, who is?
COMPUTER: Admin access is limited to one individual. Data has become corrupted. This individual cannot be identified. I am sorry for the inconvenience.

VERDIGRIS: Is user access enabled?
COMPUTER: Yes. User access is enabled for the following individuals:

• Captain Viridian
• Officer Vermillion
• Doctor Violet
• Professor Vitellary
• Chief Engineer Verdigris
• Doctor Victoria
• Meat Boy
• "Tim"
• Commander Video
• "Steve"
• "The Kid"
• Quote Marks
• Curly Brace
• Benli McUrist

COMPUTER: Note that list is compiled in order of input, and not any priority. All users have equal access.
VERDIGRIS: Fantastic...
VIRIDIAN: Computer, do you know where we are? Or how we got here?
COMPUTER: Current location identified as Land of Gravity and Silence. More specifically, the exact center. Be advised, the nearest land mass is two point seven kilometers away.
VERMILLION: ...What?

OPEN CONSORTLOG

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MIMIGA: So it really is you? The Warrior of Light?
CURLY: }Well, I don't know about "light," but I am definitely a warrior.
CURLY: }What do you guys need a warrior for, anyway?
MIMIGA: Oh, it's horrible.
MIMIGA: The world has been plunged into darkness for many years.
MIMIGA: Mimigas and other creatures of the Land of Light and Technology have been disappearing, or worse, have been corrupted and turned evil.
MIMIGA: It's Yggdrasil.
CURLY: }What's Yggdrasil?
MIMIGA: It's a massive root at the center of our world.
MIMIGA: Long, long ago, it was a battery. It held in all the organic material in the world, leaving the way open for our machinery.
MIMIGA: But something went wrong. Yggdrasil became poisoned with shadow, and now the vine jungles encroach on the cities, only held back by our floodlights.
CURLY: }It sounds like you guys are in a lot of trouble!
MIMIGA: Oh, yes, we are!
MIMIGA: Mimigas have been trying for ages to get rid of, or at least cure Yggdrasil. No one who tried has ever returned.
MIMIGA: But now you're here! And surely, the Warrior of Light can help us!
QUOTE: :D
MIMIGA: ... And I suppose your friend can come along, too.
QUOTE: :U
QUOTE: :(

The door into the cavern flew open, its guards dispatched by swift boots to the head.

"Thor!"

Silence.

A deep chuckle resounded deep within the dimly lit chamber

"Well, well, well. Look what the clockroaches dragged in."

There was a shifting of armor, and a rattling of metal on metal.

"A second-rate adventurer, looking to earn his fifteen minutes of fame by going after the big dog. How quaint."

"Do not taunt me, Thor! I am more powerful than you realize!"

"Oh, my. A time-traveler. That's the shock of the century."

"Alright, you're going to have to stop with the time puns. Those weren't funny the first time I killed you."

"You can't stop me, boy. I will have my hour."

"Fine, then. But I'll just have to let you know..."

Tim walked out of silhouette-inducing light and into full detail inside Thor's chamber.

"...that time is definitely on my side."

From the brass throne stood an imposing figure. Bedecked in knightly regalia, with a crown of hair the same shade as Tim's own.

This man was what Tim might have become, were he not cautious.

"Very well, Wizard of Time. I shall grant you your duel."

He beat his fists together.

"HAVE AT YOU!"

OPEN PESTERLOG

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incognitoInstigator began craftyMiner

II: Hey.
CM: cant rest
II: Hey, listen to me.
CM: creepers will eat me
II: Buddy, calm down for a second.
CM: cant rest creepers will eat me
II: Steve!
CM: cantrestcreeperswilleatme
II: STEVE!
CM: cantrestcreeperswilleatmecantrestcreeperswilleatme
II: SHUT UP!
CM:
CM: sorry
CM: paranoia
CM: cant
CM: focus
II: Alright, look.
II: I've checked. There are no Creepers.
II: There is, however, a massive space rock closing in on your position.
II: Now, are you going to stay there and definitely die,
II: Or are you going to connect to Meat Boy and possibly not die?
CM: i dunno
CM: stay here maybe
II: Alright, listen.
II: Go out to your mainframe. That is an order.
CM: hur yes sir mr troll sir
CM: anything else
II: Yeah.
II: Get a minecart.
II: You're going to need it.

[Dermonster]

Dammit graven you stole one of my RP characters Denizen. Specifically the fanfic RP thread.

Still want to punch Tim. Good work.

[KarneWarrior]

I want to write a meta-fic about all of the forumites sitting around in this thread before it dies, waiting for the new one to open, but it's too late for me to do it. I have to get to bed.

[starburst98]

i really wonder why steve is still so scared of creepers, doesn't he have like 100000 layers of defensive systems that kill anything that tries to get near his house as well as every square have a torch jammed in it?

[Graven_Image]

@Dermonster: Your RP denizen was the final boss of Braid?

@starburst: Phobias never go away. I still freak out at sonic booms every so often.

[Author]

The One True Meta

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I looked around the thread. It was really annoying when everyone slacked off. I mean, fuck, we'd just gotten a bunch of crazy new updates. Where the hell are all the fics?

"I bet Rule 34 already has their porn up..."

Skaian and Graven glanced over from their "Last Few Page Poker Table". Bastards never let me join. Skaian asked, kind of awkwardly, "What... What was that Author?"

"Nothing that concerns you." Lousy prick. Never did read that Indystuck thing. Didn't play enough of the games in it. I looked around the thread again, hoping some new shit might have popped up. Nope. Path and Jim were busy debating who was more hard-boiled- Path!Slick or Jim!Slick. Neither was really winning. Cerulean was muttering to herself in the corner, cackling, as she always did on the last few pages of a thread, and Karne?

Well.

We don't talk about Karne during the last few pages of the thread. He's just creepy during that time. Like this fucking prompt. I mean, shit, even if I do write stupid crap every now and then, what's the point of writing the Metafic? It seems fucking redundant. I looked at the other regulars of the room, and pinched the bridge of my nose when I saw what Doodled, Lucid, Anonymous, and Lant were up to. Somehow, they'd gotten into the booze.

I swear to god I locked that in the cupboard after Domoz got into it the last time and shared it with me. I spun my chair over to them, kind of giggling at the spinning. I stopped the instant I got near, and heard their conversation. Lant began.

"I tell ya guys, I don' unnerstan wha' this whole thingamagummy abou' th' prom' genera'er is about. It's rel... rill... cool!"
Doodled slurred out a reply. "I agree Lan', I jus'... I jus' wan'ned ta say tha' I love ya all. Y'all are great."

And the four attempted a four way bro hug. I quickly spun away. Didn't want to get involved in that horseshit. I heard a knock and the door, and arched an eyebrow in surprise. We rarely had new arrivals this late. I glanced around, and sighed, realizing that I was the only one sober enough to open the damn door. I did so. Fiery, a new arrival, arrived in much the same manner Kass had. With a doomed timeline. I shrugged, it wasn't that bad. But then Draconic had to go and remind everyone about the fucking main point of this thread.

"You guys! Author's actually writing something! That's what this thread's all about!"

I sighed in reply. "Damn it Drake, shut up. Just... go start up another crossover spree. I need a new chapter of Gurrenstuck, and I'm out of ideas."

Draconic nodded. "Good idea Author! Draconic, Awaaaaaay!!!"

I went back to my computer, and thought a bit. I guess we're all pretty weird. Hell, we all write fanfiction for a bizarre webcomic. But it's all cool. Because we're like family. No matter what happens, we'll always be there for each other, write for each other. 'Cause when nobody's around to keep you standing, it's best to write sitting down.

I apologize to anyone I offended with my ridiculous HeadCanon for you guys.

[ProspitDreamer]

@morpheoMancer and PingZing- thank you for your compliments! Yeah, trying to stay in-character as Dave was actually pretty hard. Do you know how many automatic apostrophes I had to delete?

@anonymousComrade- Yay! Karkat/Terezi is not my OTP but it's one of my favorite pairings and so I really enjoyed this. Knowing its doomed makes it more "appreciate this moment cause it's all you're gonna get", too. I like how Terezi makes all the moves and he just sits there stunned like usual.

Going along with the whole march madness thing.

I Feel Pretty

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“Son, wwhat the flyin fish are you wwearin.”

“SHUT UP DAD you never understand me”

It was such a mistake to bring his lusus back. Now that it could talk, it was always, “ Son, I’m so fishappointed” this, and “son, that scarf clashes horribly with your pants” that, and “SON, why the hell are you just standin there cryin in the corner” that whole other thing. And now this? Eridan was just trying to express himself. He just wanted to be…pretty.

“You’re right son, I sure as hell don’t understand wwhy you’re dressed like a fuckin nancy.”

“YOU NEVVER LET ME DO WWHAT I WWANT honestly im just expressin myself dad wwhy cant you let me be”

Seahorsedadsprite let out a sigh. It was hard, trying be a responsible parent to a whiny little wiggler. It was hard and nobody understood.

“Come on, son, let’s just go hunt wwhales or something.”

“there arent any more wwhales dad they died wwith the rest of alternia now theres just angels wwith there gnashin teeth and horrible clawws an really bright an tacky colors”

“Wwell, tell you wwhat son, wwe can go out and hunt some of those angels if you CHANGE OUT OF A FUCKIN SKIRT.”

“You dont get it dad its an underground sorta thing you wwouldnt understand”

“Your damn right I don’t! You’re my charge and there’s no wway you’re going outside wearing that shirt! It’s for a girl, for frying out loud!”

Eridan tugged at his pig tails in frustration. This was so stupid. Stupid dads always thinking they know best and not letting your express yourself. Can’t he see how hip this is? How he just wants to be pretty for once in his life?

“Look, Eridan, I don’t care if this is a cry for attention, you’re doin it all wwrong.”

“Youre just jealous you dont look as pretty as I do! Evverybodys jealous! They told me I would look pretty!”

And so it went. On. And on. And on.

Meanwhile….

A unseen trio sits around a computer screen. One of them is rolling on the floor in laughter, another is attempting to stifle some giggles, and one is looking on in a mixture of horror and amusement.

“Oh my god KA you really came through on thii2 one!” says the one rolling on the floor. This was by far one of the most amusing things Sollux had seen in quite a while. “Oh my god, he look2 liike such an iidiiot!”

“You know, Sollux, )(e mig)(t get the wrong idea from this!” says another behind stifled giggles. Though as an ex-moirail Feferi tried not to laugh to hard, she had to admit that Eridan looked like quite the fool in his dress, and his lusus’s reaction to it was PRIC---EL---ESS. “)(e already t)(inks of you as a kismesis!”

“Well, that’s ju2t cau2e he’2 a sore loser FF. Riight now II don’t really care how Eriidan reacts two this.”

“I Would Rather That I Did Not Have To Auspitize Between You And Eridan, Sollux.”

“Don’t worry kanaya you got nothiing two worry about. I won’t even thiink about mentiioniing who gave you the iidea to giive him all those clothes.”

“I Would Rather Prefer If I Stayed Out Of Your Flirtatious Rivalry So Thank You.” She was almost in disbelief that she had traveled through six lands to reach Sollux’s. At one point she had even had to stop and raid Eridan’s world for a good pattern to use, though the stop was short and for better or for worse she didn’t run into the young troll. But now, oh lord…

“Oh my glub, look at )(ow )(e’s WALKING! You’d )(hink )(e’s putting on a fas)(ion s)(ow for us!”

Ugh. There was no fashion in that troll. She wasn’t sure if he was better off with that hideous cape and that tacky scarf.

On second thought, maybe I should have just gone with polka dots she thought. But for now, she just watched her horrible abomination of a model, and let out a small chuckle.

This was entertainment at it's finest. Digging deep into the nuances of one moment in the complex romances of the troll quadrants- hysterical.

[Graven_Image]

I am honored by my place at the Poker Table at the End of the Universe. That was pretty funny.
Now you'll have to do one for the first few pages of thread VI.

[lucidSeraph]

I looked at the other regulars of the room, and pinched the bridge of my nose when I saw what Doodled, Lucid, Anonymous, and Lant were up to. Somehow, they'd gotten into the booze.

Well, in my case that's pretty fucking accurate.

where the hell is my rum

[Decker]

I need to write more often so I can be in things like that.

[ceruleanTresses]

Cerulean was muttering to herself in the corner, cackling, as she always did on the last few pages of a thread

L1TTL3 D1D YOU R34L1Z3 TH4T 1 H4V3 B33N TH3 L3G1SL4C3R4TOR TH3 WHOL3 T1M3! >:]

[Embargo]

The One True Meta

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I looked around the thread. It was really annoying when everyone slacked off. I mean, fuck, we'd just gotten a bunch of crazy new updates. Where the hell are all the fics?

"I bet Rule 34 already has their porn up..."

Skaian and Graven glanced over from their "Last Few Page Poker Table". Bastards never let me join. Skaian asked, kind of awkwardly, "What... What was that Author?"

"Nothing that concerns you." Lousy prick. Never did read that Indystuck thing. Didn't play enough of the games in it. I looked around the thread again, hoping some new shit might have popped up. Nope. Path and Jim were busy debating who was more hard-boiled- Path!Slick or Jim!Slick. Neither was really winning. Cerulean was muttering to herself in the corner, cackling, as she always did on the last few pages of a thread, and Karne?

Well.

We don't talk about Karne during the last few pages of the thread. He's just creepy during that time. Like this fucking prompt. I mean, shit, even if I do write stupid crap every now and then, what's the point of writing the Metafic? It seems fucking redundant. I looked at the other regulars of the room, and pinched the bridge of my nose when I saw what Doodled, Lucid, Anonymous, and Lant were up to. Somehow, they'd gotten into the booze.

I swear to god I locked that in the cupboard after Domoz got into it the last time and shared it with me. I spun my chair over to them, kind of giggling at the spinning. I stopped the instant I got near, and heard their conversation. Lant began.

"I tell ya guys, I don' unnerstan wha' this whole thingamagummy abou' th' prom' genera'er is about. It's rel... rill... cool!"
Doodled slurred out a reply. "I agree Lan', I jus'... I jus' wan'ned ta say tha' I love ya all. Y'all are great."

And the four attempted a four way bro hug. I quickly spun away. Didn't want to get involved in that horseshit. I heard a knock and the door, and arched an eyebrow in surprise. We rarely had new arrivals this late. I glanced around, and sighed, realizing that I was the only one sober enough to open the damn door. I did so. Fiery, a new arrival, arrived in much the same manner Kass had. With a doomed timeline. I shrugged, it wasn't that bad. But then Draconic had to go and remind everyone about the fucking main point of this thread.

"You guys! Author's actually writing something! That's what this thread's all about!"

I sighed in reply. "Damn it Drake, shut up. Just... go start up another crossover spree. I need a new chapter of Gurrenstuck, and I'm out of ideas."

Draconic nodded. "Good idea Author! Draconic, Awaaaaaay!!!"

I went back to my computer, and thought a bit. I guess we're all pretty weird. Hell, we all write fanfiction for a bizarre webcomic. But it's all cool. Because we're like family. No matter what happens, we'll always be there for each other, write for each other. 'Cause when nobody's around to keep you standing, it's best to write sitting down.

I apologize to anyone I offended with my ridiculous HeadCanon for you guys.

This was hilarious. Though it could've used more drunk antics and dicking around in general.

[draconicAlgorithm]

The One True Meta

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I looked around the thread. It was really annoying when everyone slacked off. I mean, fuck, we'd just gotten a bunch of crazy new updates. Where the hell are all the fics?

"I bet Rule 34 already has their porn up..."

Skaian and Graven glanced over from their "Last Few Page Poker Table". Bastards never let me join. Skaian asked, kind of awkwardly, "What... What was that Author?"

"Nothing that concerns you." Lousy prick. Never did read that Indystuck thing. Didn't play enough of the games in it. I looked around the thread again, hoping some new shit might have popped up. Nope. Path and Jim were busy debating who was more hard-boiled- Path!Slick or Jim!Slick. Neither was really winning. Cerulean was muttering to herself in the corner, cackling, as she always did on the last few pages of a thread, and Karne?

Well.

We don't talk about Karne during the last few pages of the thread. He's just creepy during that time. Like this fucking prompt. I mean, shit, even if I do write stupid crap every now and then, what's the point of writing the Metafic? It seems fucking redundant. I looked at the other regulars of the room, and pinched the bridge of my nose when I saw what Doodled, Lucid, Anonymous, and Lant were up to. Somehow, they'd gotten into the booze.

I swear to god I locked that in the cupboard after Domoz got into it the last time and shared it with me. I spun my chair over to them, kind of giggling at the spinning. I stopped the instant I got near, and heard their conversation. Lant began.

"I tell ya guys, I don' unnerstan wha' this whole thingamagummy abou' th' prom' genera'er is about. It's rel... rill... cool!"
Doodled slurred out a reply. "I agree Lan', I jus'... I jus' wan'ned ta say tha' I love ya all. Y'all are great."

And the four attempted a four way bro hug. I quickly spun away. Didn't want to get involved in that horseshit. I heard a knock and the door, and arched an eyebrow in surprise. We rarely had new arrivals this late. I glanced around, and sighed, realizing that I was the only one sober enough to open the damn door. I did so. Fiery, a new arrival, arrived in much the same manner Kass had. With a doomed timeline. I shrugged, it wasn't that bad. But then Draconic had to go and remind everyone about the fucking main point of this thread.

"You guys! Author's actually writing something! That's what this thread's all about!"

I sighed in reply. "Damn it Drake, shut up. Just... go start up another crossover spree. I need a new chapter of Gurrenstuck, and I'm out of ideas."

Draconic nodded. "Good idea Author! Draconic, Awaaaaaay!!!"

I went back to my computer, and thought a bit. I guess we're all pretty weird. Hell, we all write fanfiction for a bizarre webcomic. But it's all cool. Because we're like family. No matter what happens, we'll always be there for each other, write for each other. 'Cause when nobody's around to keep you standing, it's best to write sitting down.

I apologize to anyone I offended with my ridiculous HeadCanon for you guys.

... Wow. You know things are getting bad when I'm the voice of reason. xD

Also, from now on, I shall wear a cape. Shoosh!

(In other words I liked this. xD)

Still working on the funhouse prompt. I wish I had time to finish and submit it tonight, but I'm cramming for two midterm tests tomorrow. So I'll probably finish it after school tomorrow. And then I'll actually read through fics because there looks like a lot of good ones!

In the mean time, have fun finishing the thread guys! xD

[Domoz]

Haha WHOOPS
You know how I get with the booze.

[mythmonster2]

Hey, the thread's ending! That was fast! I have a fic, but methinks I'll wait till the new thread rolls around to post it.

[Doodled]

The One True Meta

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I looked around the thread. It was really annoying when everyone slacked off. I mean, fuck, we'd just gotten a bunch of crazy new updates. Where the hell are all the fics?

"I bet Rule 34 already has their porn up..."

Skaian and Graven glanced over from their "Last Few Page Poker Table". Bastards never let me join. Skaian asked, kind of awkwardly, "What... What was that Author?"

"Nothing that concerns you." Lousy prick. Never did read that Indystuck thing. Didn't play enough of the games in it. I looked around the thread again, hoping some new shit might have popped up. Nope. Path and Jim were busy debating who was more hard-boiled- Path!Slick or Jim!Slick. Neither was really winning. Cerulean was muttering to herself in the corner, cackling, as she always did on the last few pages of a thread, and Karne?

Well.

We don't talk about Karne during the last few pages of the thread. He's just creepy during that time. Like this fucking prompt. I mean, shit, even if I do write stupid crap every now and then, what's the point of writing the Metafic? It seems fucking redundant. I looked at the other regulars of the room, and pinched the bridge of my nose when I saw what Doodled, Lucid, Anonymous, and Lant were up to. Somehow, they'd gotten into the booze.

I swear to god I locked that in the cupboard after Domoz got into it the last time and shared it with me. I spun my chair over to them, kind of giggling at the spinning. I stopped the instant I got near, and heard their conversation. Lant began.

"I tell ya guys, I don' unnerstan wha' this whole thingamagummy abou' th' prom' genera'er is about. It's rel... rill... cool!"
Doodled slurred out a reply. "I agree Lan', I jus'... I jus' wan'ned ta say tha' I love ya all. Y'all are great."

And the four attempted a four way bro hug. I quickly spun away. Didn't want to get involved in that horseshit. I heard a knock and the door, and arched an eyebrow in surprise. We rarely had new arrivals this late. I glanced around, and sighed, realizing that I was the only one sober enough to open the damn door. I did so. Fiery, a new arrival, arrived in much the same manner Kass had. With a doomed timeline. I shrugged, it wasn't that bad. But then Draconic had to go and remind everyone about the fucking main point of this thread.

"You guys! Author's actually writing something! That's what this thread's all about!"

I sighed in reply. "Damn it Drake, shut up. Just... go start up another crossover spree. I need a new chapter of Gurrenstuck, and I'm out of ideas."

Draconic nodded. "Good idea Author! Draconic, Awaaaaaay!!!"

I went back to my computer, and thought a bit. I guess we're all pretty weird. Hell, we all write fanfiction for a bizarre webcomic. But it's all cool. Because we're like family. No matter what happens, we'll always be there for each other, write for each other. 'Cause when nobody's around to keep you standing, it's best to write sitting down.

I apologize to anyone I offended with my ridiculous HeadCanon for you guys.

This makes me so happy.