MSPA Fanfiction VI: Trashy Rainbow Drinker Fanfiction

[Doodled]

I know somebody's already doing a HS/TF2 cross-over...

But seriously...

"BONK!"

"HONK!"

...

See the connection?

[Path]

Deduction

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Problem Sleuth wakes up with his face smushed against floorboards. Again, he thinks.

He tries to express this verbally. "Hrrrrrgggnnnnn," he says. And then, "vvnnmph". His mouth is full of cotton balls. No wait, it just feels like it's full of cotton balls. He blinks a few times, and can't quite clear all the fuzz from his mind. All the same, he attempts to take account of things.

First, he notes, he is on the floor. He is not sure where the floor is or whose floor it is, but he is certainly on it, and since he woke up there he can deduce that he either slept there or was thrown there. The latter is certainly more common, even for the top problem sleuth in the city.

Second, he feels like shit. His head is throbbing, his mouth disgusting, and his entire body aching. He's cold. He attempts to check his skull for goose eggs left by the butt of somebody's revolver or a bottle or something, the usual cause of his experience waking up on the floor. His attempt is an exceptional failure, from which he learns that thirdly, his hands are tied up somehow. He wriggles around a little, cursing under his breath the entire way. However, he has found his hands, which expands point three to include the fact that he is tied, specifically, to a wrought-iron grate framing a fireplace.

He considers for a moment, and adds on point four, which is that he cannot remember getting here; he mentally jots it down as amnesia. Too many blows to the head? Food or drink laced? He keeps them in mind.

He decides to investigate the room. He considers doing this from a standing position, but points two and three gang up and beat the suggestion down, and he takes this as a warning to stay on the floor for now. He does not often listen to warnings, but coming as it is from his own thoughts, he allows that perhaps he has a point.

Problem Sleuth looks around. The floor is hardwood, dark and polished and real swanky. Nearby is a large green bottle, and he files it under Possible Weapons in his Brainvestigation. Just because he can't feel a bump on his head doesn't mean he wasn't clocked by that bottle. He gives it an intense glare, but the bottle remains quiet. It'll take more than that to convince it to cough up its alibi.

Right beside the bottle is a rug, tossed in a heap. It looks like white tiger skin or something equally endangered and expensive. It looks surprisingly soft, and Sleuth wonders if somebody is raising white tigers and shampooing them every day. This pings at the back of his mind. He thinks he's heard something like that before.

He files that under Clues.

The wood below him is slightly darker than the rest of the floor. Sleuth suspects the rug was moved either before he was tossed there or after, pulled out from under him. Maybe he was bleeding, and they didn't want to have to skin another Pantene Tiger. He can't feel any of the sharp pulls to his movement that would register as a cut, or the red-hot-poker sensation of a bullet wound, though, so he discounts that for the moment. It is beginning to look, to his chagrin, like he went down without much of a fight.

Beside him is a bedframe. It's also dark wood, with a few bits of dark steel laced into the design. It's modern and weird-looking and seems really expensive. He's right at the foot, and can't see any more of it than the tall flat design at the end, so he's not really sure what the rest of the bed looks like.

Craning his head backwards and gritting his teeth through the twinge of neck muscles and the screaming of his aching head, he can see long curtains and the edge of a door. He files it under Escape Routes, and notes amusedly that he's already organized his thoughts more than he ever does his office.

He looks down and adds a second door to his new folder. He also adds another point (five) to his Brainvestigation- he is entirely naked. No pants, shirt, tie, watch, hat, nothing. He holds up his feet. Even his socks are gone. On the plus side, he mentally checks off the symptom "cold" from his earlier list, noting "naked" beside it.

So he's woken up somewhere unfamiliar, feeling like hell, tied to a grate, naked. And he doesn't know how he got here. Problem Sleuth begins to feel something like worry. It's not the first time any of these things have happened, but usually it's not all at once. Somebody really pulled the big guns out to make sure he wouldn't be going anywhere. Naturally, he reacts as he frequently does when confronted with dangerous and delicate situations and immediately begins yelling.

"HEY, WHOEVER, RISE AND SHINE," he bellows. Oh God, his brain. It threatens to jump ship along with anything he ate last night if he continues to make noises a billion decibels higher than anyone should ever have to listen to. There is a strangled sound nearby and somebody moving. Whoops, thinks Problem Sleuth. Turns out there was somebody else here all along. Well, maybe whoever it is has some more information.

To his surprise, a figure pokes its head over the foot of the bed. He'd figured anyone in here would have been tied-up or drugged too. The man does look incredibly groggy, which almost eclipses his gritted teeth, lips curled in a snarl. His shiny black hair is wild, and he sports a handful of really impressive bite-marks all along his shoulders.

"What," he says flatly, "the fuck," he adds, "do you want," he closes his single eye as if in pain, "you asshole?"

It's Spades Slick. In retrospect, this really does look like one of his places. Problem Sleuth shoves him bodily into his Suspects folder. "Slick, if you don't get me untied from here-" he begins, but Spades Slick cuts him off.

"It's nine o'clock," Spades Slick says, in the closest thing to patience he's ever displayed. Patience, for Spades Slick, involves him clenching his sharp teeth together with his eye closed.

"Is it?" Sleuth says with fake cheer. "Let me just check my watch." He makes a show of craning his head back to his hands. There's nothing around his wrist but rope. Spades Slick makes a gagging sound. "Nope, had no idea," Sleuth continues. "Look, Slick, I don't know what you want, but I know we can work something out. So just untie me, and we'll talk."

"You don't know," Spades Slick says, his attempted patience showing a crack or two, "what I want."

Sleuth smiles at him to hide how completely thrown off he is by all this.

"I want you to shut up and let me sleep, you complete fucking moron." Slick's hand goes to his forehead, which he holds, wincing, for a moment before running it through his wild hair. He makes a half-hearted impression of Sleuth's voice. "'Just leave me here, Slick,'" he mocks. "'Too tired to move.'" Slick snarls at him, "patience" shattering entirely. "If I'd known you'd wake up ungodly early and start howling at me through this fucking hangover to let you back out, I'd never have tied you up in the first place."

"You tied me-"

"YES, I FUCKING TIED YOU UP THERE. And if I recall correctly, you seemed to enjoy it for awhile. So fuck you, shut up, and next time you're drunk out of your skull I'm not going to listen to a fucking word you say." Spades Slick wraps himself in a blanket, grabs a pillow, and stalks out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Hm.

Sleuth peers up at his hands.

Yes, he thinks through his hangover, he does vaguely remember going out on the town with Slick the night before. It's fuzzy. He squints his eyes closed and tries to think. Yes, they went out to somewhere Slick didn't own. Slick was feeling generous and was buying drinks right, left, and center, for anybody in the room who caught his interest, so he figures he must have drank about three times what he's usually used to on a real bender.

He is unsure if the club was still standing when they left.

Then the two of them, straggling through the streets to whatever apartment was closest, alternately supporting each other and degenerating into drunken off-balance beatings. Somehow Slick got his apartment unlocked (Sleuth remembers some kerfuffle over the keys), and then very fuzzy and separate memories of travelling through his hall, kitchen, and collapsing on the sofa, Slick pulling a bottle of something from... somewhere, Slick straddling his lap, and then... pretty much nothing.

He has no idea how Spades Slick does it. The guy is three-quarters his size and skinny, but he can hold his liquor like nobody's business. And he sure ties a good knot.

Problem Sleuth takes the bottle out of the Possible Weapons file and puts it in Suspects with Spades Slick, then mentally stamps "CASE CLOSED" on it. Just another job well-done for the town's best problem sleuth. No clue unfound, no situation too embarrassing.

I lol'd so hard that I blol'd.

I don't even know what that is but I'm glad I made it happen.

[DJ-P0N3]

This is stupid and I should feel stupid.


Heavy: Answer

show spoiler

hide spoiler

-- redScout [RS] began contacting redHeavy [RH] --
RS: bonk!
RH: SCOUT
RH: DA
RH: THERE YOU ARE TINY BABY MAN
RS: BONK!
RH: UH YES
RH: DA
RH: WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN, THE REST OF US REAL MEN WERE OUT DEFENDING POINT WITHOUT TINY BABY MAN LIKE YOU
RS: bonk!
RS: BONK!
RS: bonk!
RS: BONK!
RH: YES I GET IT BABY MAN YOU ARE HITTING THE WEAK ENEMY BLU TEAM WITH YOUR BAT AND IMITATING NOISE THAT COMES FROM IT
RH: NO ONE CARE
RH: GET BACK TO DEFENDING POINT STUPID
RS: no!
RH: WHAT WAS THAT RED SCOUT
RS: I SAID NO WAY YA BIB WEARIN DOPE!
RS: bonk bonk bonk d:)
RH: BABY MAN
RH: ARE YOU SPY
RH: YOU ARE FREAKING ME OUT
RS: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!
RS: haha, yeah.
RS: THAT FREAKIN SCOUT COULD BE A SPY I MEAN I THINK I COULD BE A SPY
RS: but no way, i am doin good.
RH: OH NO
RH: THIS IS BAD
RH: DO NOT TELL ME YOU ARE BLU SPY
RS: DID ANYONE HAPPEN TO KILL A BLU SPY YET
RH: NO STUPID
RH: THE ENGINEER WAS KILLED AND HIS SENTRY SAPPED SOLDIER IS DEAD AND SO IS SNIPER
RH: I HAVE NOT HEARD FROM MEDIC IN AGES
RS: hah hah.
RH: HAH HAH
RH: BONK HAS FINALLY GONE TO TINY BABY HEAD
RS: BONK?
RS: aint no more bonk pally.
RS: NO BIG DEAL
RS: that crap was just poison anyway, didnt ya hear?
RH: UH NO
RH: NYET I DID NOT DRINK TINY BABY DRINK
RS: THEN DRINK IT IN PALLY CAUSE THATS HOW POSION TASTES!
RS: it rots you.
RS: BREAKS YOUR KNEECAPS.
RS: and the cabinet looks back at you through the hole in the respawn room.
RS: BUT THERE IS NO RESPAWN NOW.
RS: only overtime and the understandin that there is no comin back.
RH: OH NO
RH: THIS IS SAD DAY
RS: time to kick this noob-sauce class shit.
RS: TIME TO USE THE FORCE A NATURE!
RS: time to do what i was always meant to.
RS: AS A DESCENDANT OF THE BLU SPY
RS: blu teams better knucklehead.
RS: BLU IS BETTER THAN EVERYBODY.
RS: bonk!
RH: RED SCOUT
RH: NYET
RS: im all thats left on that side you baldy.
RS: I FINALLY KNOW WHAT I AM GOIN TO DO.
RS: because i was both on red team ):b
RS: AND ON BLU TEAM. d:)
RS: and now.
RS: AND NOW.
RS: i am going to own you so hard.
RH: NO
RH: OH NO
RH: THIS IS BAD
RS: I AM GOING TO KILL YOU YOU FAT BALD BASTARD
RS: and paint the blu team intel with your blood.
RS: FROM YOUR VEINS WILL DRIP MY MILK.
RS: your batted in skulls will make my special stardust.
RS: WELCOME TO OVERTIME, BROTHER.
RS: bonk!
RS: BONK!
RS: bonk!
RS: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK!
-- redScout [RS] ceased contacting redHeavy [RH] --

[Path]

Mayor, can I steal a piece of that for my title? That made me crack up so badly. Oh god, Heavy, you are my favourite thing.

[DJ-P0N3]

I don't see why not!

[mythmonster2]

Oh good God that was awesome.

[DJ-P0N3]

Should....should I do that with another pesterlog from Homestuck?

[mythmonster2]

YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY.

[Graven_Image]

YES PLEASE I WILL CRY IF YOU DON'T

I may do one mehself.

And on the topic of fics that I'm doing...

Indystuck

Chapter 31

show spoiler

hide spoiler

OPEN PESTERLOG

show spoiler

hide spoiler

mischeviousRobot began pestering neckwearAficionado

MR: Hey Tim
MR: Where am I
NA: Well, that question could have any number of answers.
NA: Could you describe your position for me, please?
MR: Uhh well
MR: It's dimly lit
MR: I can't see four feet in front of me
MR: And there's this massive grinding gear a way to my left
MR: Sound familiar
NA: Yes, it does, as a matter of fact.
NA: I do believe you're on my world.
NA: Let me guess, you got tired of being second banana for a while?
MR: Yeah
MR: I swear, this speech impediment is gonna be the death of me
NA: Heh.
MR: What?
NA: Oh, nothing.
NA: It's just that statement is ironic in ways you, with your three-dimensional preconceptions, are incapable of perceiving.
MR: Uh huh
MR: And that statement is disturbing in ways I can perceive just fine
MR: What happened to you Tim
MR: You used to be cool and not weird like this
NA: Yes, well, I used to not be me with three years' experience you don't have.
NA: Plus, I'm probably a little giddy at the concept of not having to rewind ever again.
MR: Yeah well
MR: What's there to do around here
NA: Well, you could always help around with the rabbits.
NA: They've got no shortage of fetch quests that can be nogtiated without necessary speech.
NA: Barring that, you could always try to find the portal that leads back to LOLAT.
MR: Lolat what
NA: Land Of Light And Technology.
NA: Try to keep up with the acronyms.
MR: Riiiiight
MR: I'm going to go do something
MR: Far away
MR: Bye
NA: So long, Quote.

mischeviousRobot ceased pestering neckwearAficionado

Much like the victim in the famous tortoise-slug mugging, the only thing Thor could think about during the next few minutes was how it had all gone so fast.

He had stood up from his throne. Three mintues later, he woke up on an asteroid, coughing up blood.

"To the Most Pathetic Denizen I Have Ever Deigned to Engage in Combat:"

It was the Wizard's voice. A small device embedded in the rock was emitting it.

"Our transtemporal rivalry has been fun. But here is where it stops for me. You see, I have faced you many times in the past, and many times in differing versions of the coming few weeks. I admit, it shocked me when I first found out who you were. The dread knight Thor, a figment of my past? Ludicrous!

"But through my repeated rewinding and manipulation of time, it slowly dawned on me your true nature. A nature which, to you, has not yet been revealed. If I had any say in the matter, you would be dead now. But, as causality wills, you will yet live for a while longer.

"You will stay here, on this rock, like a good little humbled denizen. Soon enough, the Reckoning will occur, and you will be exiled to my past. We will face each other many times, Thor. But despair knowing that you will never defeat me.

"I wish you the best of luck in your affairs after our mortal combat is all over and done. Cheers!"

beeeeep

"Oh, P.S. I found your little contraption on the back chamber, and worked out its mechanism. The Land of Gears and Fog is back in working order again, no thanks to you."

beeeeep

He would have screamed in rage. He would have beat on his prison until it crumbled into dust. He would have done something. But he knew a true master of time when he heard one.

Everything the Wizard said was absolutely right.

[pimudragonfeline]

I'll preface my critique with this: I found your story to be the good kind of confusing, that is, I'm not and can't be sure exactly what's going on here but I want to know more, and it got better the further in I was for the most part.

THIS IS WHAT I NEED!
Specifically Stuff with grammar spelling and punctuation is my kryptonite. I am termed "twice exceptional" smart but with a learning disability. Guess what my disability is! Writing...
Expound Further>

show spoiler

hide spoiler

This was also trying to flesh out my adventure some without filling the thread with double posts or going back and editing my entries again... I just felt like expanding more and Drake is actually one of Morgathen and Mikhail's living children being raised in the bubbles of the dead. I believe that Postpartum depression is the one that happens after pregnancy. The title is about floating a generally fun activity that consumes a lot of time if the current is low. Then the reference to the river Lethe the river of forgetfulness. So I'll go back and edit.

[Doodled]

This is stupid and I should feel stupid.


Heavy: Answer

show spoiler

hide spoiler

-- redScout [RS] began contacting redHeavy [RH] --
RS: bonk!
RH: SCOUT
RH: DA
RH: THERE YOU ARE TINY BABY MAN
RS: BONK!
RH: UH YES
RH: DA
RH: WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN, THE REST OF US REAL MEN WERE OUT DEFENDING POINT WITHOUT TINY BABY MAN LIKE YOU
RS: bonk!
RS: BONK!
RS: bonk!
RS: BONK!
RH: YES I GET IT BABY MAN YOU ARE HITTING THE WEAK ENEMY BLU TEAM WITH YOUR BAT AND IMITATING NOISE THAT COMES FROM IT
RH: NO ONE CARE
RH: GET BACK TO DEFENDING POINT STUPID
RS: no!
RH: WHAT WAS THAT RED SCOUT
RS: I SAID NO WAY YA BIB WEARIN DOPE!
RS: bonk bonk bonk d
RH: BABY MAN
RH: ARE YOU SPY
RH: YOU ARE FREAKING ME OUT
RS: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!
RS: haha, yeah.
RS: THAT FREAKIN SCOUT COULD BE A SPY I MEAN I THINK I COULD BE A SPY
RS: but no way, i am doin good.
RH: OH NO
RH: THIS IS BAD
RH: DO NOT TELL ME YOU ARE BLU SPY
RS: DID ANYONE HAPPEN TO KILL A BLU SPY YET
RH: NO STUPID
RH: THE ENGINEER WAS KILLED AND HIS SENTRY SAPPED SOLDIER IS DEAD AND SO IS SNIPER
RH: I HAVE NOT HEARD FROM MEDIC IN AGES
RS: hah hah.
RH: HAH HAH
RH: BONK HAS FINALLY GONE TO TINY BABY HEAD
RS: BONK?
RS: aint no more bonk pally.
RS: NO BIG DEAL
RS: that crap was just poison anyway, didnt ya hear?
RH: UH NO
RH: NYET I DID NOT DRINK TINY BABY DRINK
RS: THEN DRINK IT IN PALLY CAUSE THATS HOW POSION TASTES!
RS: it rots you.
RS: BREAKS YOUR KNEECAPS.
RS: and the cabinet looks back at you through the hole in the respawn room.
RS: BUT THERE IS NO RESPAWN NOW.
RS: only overtime and the understandin that there is no comin back.
RH: OH NO
RH: THIS IS SAD DAY
RS: time to kick this noob-sauce class shit.
RS: TIME TO USE THE FORCE A NATURE!
RS: time to do what i was always meant to.
RS: AS A DESCENDANT OF THE BLU SPY
RS: blu teams better knucklehead.
RS: BLU IS BETTER THAN EVERYBODY.
RS: bonk!
RH: RED SCOUT
RH: NYET
RS: im all thats left on that side you baldy.
RS: I FINALLY KNOW WHAT I AM GOIN TO DO.
RS: because i was both on red team ):b
RS: AND ON BLU TEAM. d
RS: and now.
RS: AND NOW.
RS: i am going to own you so hard.
RH: NO
RH: OH NO
RH: THIS IS BAD
RS: I AM GOING TO KILL YOU YOU FAT BALD BASTARD
RS: and paint the blu team intel with your blood.
RS: FROM YOUR VEINS WILL DRIP MY MILK.
RS: your batted in skulls will make my special stardust.
RS: WELCOME TO OVERTIME, BROTHER.
RS: bonk!
RS: BONK!
RS: bonk!
RS: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK!
-- redScout [RS] ceased contacting redHeavy [RH] --

O_O

...

New ship:

Doodled MayorSillyBiscuits

[MyCurrentObsession]

WHOO look I made something:

Summary: In which Nepeta decides to tell Karkat how she feels, but ultimately fails. In other words, Status Quo is God, and the only thing that changes is her shipping wall.

Nepeta: Confess

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Today is the day. You're finally going to do it. You're going to tell him how you feel.

You're making this happen!

You stare long and hard at your giant picture of the two of you together, the OTP of your shipping wall, trying to gather courage.

You don't think it's working; it's just making you all wistful and dreamy and--

"Nepeta?"

And oh shit, Equius is right outside the door, and your OTP isn't hidden! Not even your moirail can see it! NO ONE MUST SEE IT!!!

You quickly scramble about on all fours, shoving crate after crate back into place. Picture? What picture? There's no giant picture of you and Karkat hidden conspicuously behind those stacked crates, hehehe.

It turns out that Equius came to check in on you, and, like any good moirail, you inform him of the decision you have made.

"What? No, Nepeta, that mutant blood is far below you! I won't allow it!"

Unsurprisingly, he disapproves.

The two of you argue about it for a few minutes, the fight deteriorating down to the two of you screaming, "Yes!" "No!" at each other.

Nepeta: Do it anyway.

While it's generally bad form to go against your moirail's opinions, you decide it's purfectly okay to make an exception in this case.

And so, you begin the trek down to the main room, where your fearless leader surely awaits -- along with about seven or eight spectators, and man, you're starting to get nervous and maybe you should've thought this through better.

You approach your target slowly, berating yourself for not thinking to bring yarn to keeps your trembling hands puroccupied.

"Um... Karkat?"

Come on, Nepeta. Don't lose it now. You can do it!

Karkat gives you a nervous look from the corner of his eyes, and, unbeknownst to you, prepares to tiptoe around a very unfortunate, very red, and very unrequited situation.

"Uh, hey Nepeta. I'm... kinda busy right now. Would you mind waiting, or something?"

You meekly tell him that's fine even though it's totally not (seriously, what's wrong with you, aren't cats supposed to be confident and graceful?), and decide to pass the time taking a roll in the horn pile.

Despite the constant honking, it's surprisingly comfortable, and before you know it, you're drifting off to...

When you awaken from your unwanted catnap, you find Karkat is suspiciously absent. Dammit.

----------

So, you failed yesterday. But today, surely, today will be the day. You are gonna march right down there, pounce on your unsuspecting prey, and give him a big, impossible to misinterpret kiss.

Well, you will as soon as you finish updating your shipping wall, anyway.

You've noticed that VriskaTavros isn't going anywhere, so you might as well erase it and put something else up in its stead.

To replace it, you put up two pairs; Sollux with both Aradia and Feferi. You can't say you're really invested in either of the ships, but you're still eagerly lapping up the tension of being placed between a current matesprite and an ex who you clearly still care for. You're just waiting for the balance to tip in one ship's favor.

Okay, now that you've wasted time doing that, it's time to get back on track.

Nepeta: Confess flushed feelings.

You are fully purpared this time; you rehearsed your lines with Equius (who begrudgingly accepts that you're going through with this), enlisted the help of Tavros to ensure some of the more obnoxious peepers (Terezi and Vriska would never let you live it down) are puroccupied, and remembered to bring a ball of yarn to play with.

You leap from the transportalizer feeling much more confident than yesterday, and bound your way over to your target immediately.

"Hey, Karkitty!"

He blanches, then turns red -- with anger, he assures you. "What the fuck did you just call me?!"

You smile and bat at his shoulder playfully with one of your paws. "Why so flushed?"

He stares at you with wide eyes, unable to retort.

Nepeta: Be Karkat.

You are now, temporarily, Karkat.

The situation is critical; Nepeta is being surprisingly forward, and no one seems to be coming to your aid: Feferi is watching with quiet interest, Kanaya is still absorbed in her conversation with Rose, Aradia couldn't care less, and Sollux is laughing at you. The bastard.

Vriska and Terezi are suspiciously absent.

How will you escape this situation without hurting the poor troll girl's feelings?

Karkat: Send her away Request a favor.

"Nevermind, you're just the person I needed. Can you do me a favor?"

You are now Nepeta again. You are just so happy that Karkat needs you for anything. Need is only a few steps from want, which is a few steps from love, and... you are are just so thrilled. So thrilled, you have no idea.

You jump to attention, giving him a salute. "Sure thing! Whatever you need, Karkitty!"

He rubs his forehead, starting to develop a headache, and says, "Can you go get Equius for me? I think Tavros fell down some stairs again."

You don't understand why Karkat would need you for such a simple, menial task, but you are determined to fulfill it nonetheless. You also don't remember seeing Tavros at the bottom of any staircases (you specifically warned him to stay away from those while he was keeping Terezi and Vriska busy), but your leader wouldn't lie to you, now would he?

"I can do that! Just wait right here, I'll be back!

You set off towards Equius' room as quickly as possible, not wanting to make your leader wait. It's only when you reach your moirail that you realize you were completely derailed earlier, and had never managed to admit how you felt.

And of course, by the time you return from the depths of the lab with your moirail in tow, Karkat is long gone.

----------

Twice, now, you've failed. It's disheartening.

Not as much as the recent blow to your shipping wall, but still.

Oh yes, during your nap yesterday, Aradia unexpectedly exploded. No one saw it coming, and poor Sollux was really torn up about it.

Sighing, you draw a big X through the SolluxAradia picture, making a note to do the same to any other pair involving the girl, as well.

Nothing sinks a ship faster than death.

But enough about that. It's time for you to steel yourself, because this time, this time, you are definitely gonna do it. Nothing can stop you from telling Karkat how you feel.

Except, apparently, not getting the chance to talk.

You run into him in the halls, the two of you alone, for once. This is the purfect opurtunity. What could pawsibly go wrong?

This: He takes one look at you and nervously babbles out, "Oh, hey Nepeta! Sorry, I'd love to chat but I'm actually really tired, haven't gotten any sleep since we started this game, so I'm headed to bed!"

You can only gape at him. "But--"

Karkat: Abscond.

"Gotta go!"

And just like that, he's gone.Transportalized to the safety of his room. You sigh, whisper a useless, "Bye..." in his absence.

If this were a baseball game (whatever that is), it'd be three strikes, you're out.

But since it's not a baseball game (seriously, what is this absurdly named human sport?), well...

There's always tomorrow.

WHOO look how badly it sucks. No seriously, why did I write this it's horrible what was I thinking...

[Decker]

A little something about the Subjuggulators.

Rhythm: Mean Music

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Even among the Subjuggulators, there were those who were feared and respected among all others.

They dressed in white and wore masks, split down the middle. The left side was comedy and the right was tragedy.

They never spoke.

They never bloodied their hands.

They were the avatars of the mirthful messiahs.

They played the mean music.

*

“They say there's a traitor hiding here.” Said one of the Subjuggulators. His teeth were yellow and cracked and his eyes were vacant.

They were all packed in the back of one of the many too small vans that rolled down the road. The vans were all brightly colored, smeared and streaked with the colors of the hemospectrum. All except for one. The van in the front was white.

One of the new Subjuggulators looked up at the crooked smiled troll as he spoke.

“They say he spoke out against the empress. Planned to kill her. So we're going to make an example out of them”

“Th-them? But wh-why are...they...here for a few trolls?”

“Oh no little man. Not for a few trolls. We're going to burn the whole town to the ground.”

“Oh...”

The old troll looked at the nervous young one, in his new makeup and clean clothes.

“You haven't hit the wicked elixir yet, have you?”

“Y-yeah! A bunch of times!”

“Oh no. No, no, no. That stuff is just a funny little joke. A picture of the real thing.” He reached into a bag under the seat and pulled out a small bottle. It swirled in a rainbow of colors as he handed it to the young troll.

“You're probably not ready for the fairy dust yet. Drink up. This is the real deal. This will...open your mind.”

The skinny young troll looked nervously at the bottle. But this was what he was supposed to be, wasn't it? This is what he was raised for. He closed his eyes, leaned his head back and drained the bottle in one go. It was...sickeningly sweet. Like a concentrated syrup of the drink he was used to

His pupils opened wide. He felt the top of his head open up. Everything went blurry. Everything went slow. Everything went dull. He looked up at the elder troll. His horrible grin was exaggerated ten times. All he could see was sharp teeth. Hungry eyes. Dripping paint. He heard laughing, but it was coming from inside his head.

The others drank. Some took a white powder out of their bags, and rubbed it on their gums and in their eyes until they bled. They sat there giggling to themselves until the vans pulled to a stop.

“Wha...” He looked up dizzily at his mentor. The older troll put a finger to his lips.

“Shhh...The avatars are getting ready. Come on out. You'll know what to do.” And they all stumbled out of the van.

The avatars stood in the town square, back to back. They held long sticks with big, white, marshmallow looking heads on the ends. Four trolls trolled four large drums out and lay them reverently in a cross shape around the avatars.

The people in the town watched with growing horror as they realized what was happening. Some screamed. Some barred their doors, but to the young Subjuggulator it all seemed so far away, like he was watching it on TV.

The avatars head the sticks out. Everyone was quiet. They brought the sticks down.

Boom.

They turned slightly in unison, and hit one of the other drums.

Boom.

Turn, hit

Boom.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

The rhythm picked up, and young troll felt something in the music.

He briefly recalled how he loved the music of the Subjuggulators. How it seemed to reach past the logic and memories in your brain and press those little emotional buttons. He associated some songs with happy or sad memories. Soon he forgot the memories, but the emotions remained and came out with the music.

He felt something.

BOOM, boom, BOOM, boom, BOOM, boom.

The rhythm rattled around in his drug addled brain and pulled out emotions.

He felt his heartbeat speed up. His mind was on fire. Everything could be okay, but something was wrong. Everything was so dull. So colorless and drab.

He needed to see the color again. He needed it more than he needed food or air. He needed to see a rainbow that matched the music.

He saw the scared trolls, all running into their houses, and he knew where to get the colors from.

*

The same song can bring out completely different emotions. For some it was a burning desire.

For others it was fear.

The music reverberated through the small town, echoing off the small buildings and punching its way through closed doors and locked windows.

Sickening dread overwhelmed them. Some took their own lives, wanting a quick and clean end. Some took the lives of their neighbors, to spare them the carnage. Some took the lives of their neighbors before they could be killed themselves. Maybe the lords will spare me. Maybe I can gain their favor. Maybe they will let me be one of them. I will kill him before he kills me. I will kill everyone to be safe. They are all against me.

BOOM boom BOOM boom BOOM boom BOOM boom

The jungle drums sent them into a panic as the Subjuggulators laughed and danced. They broke into houses, tore open the other trolls and painted the walls with all the colors. Some begged. Some screamed. Some fought back. One pulled a gun and blew a hole in a ghastly clown face. The Subjuggulator caved his head in with a club. He wouldn't fall dead until the music stopped.

They grabbed juggling torches and set them to fabric and furniture. Anything that would burn. The fire was so bright and colorful. The music drove them on like a locomotive. Rhythmic and unstoppable.

BOOMboomBOOMboomBOOMboomBOOMboom

Fires roared. The gutters were running with rainbow colors.

BOOMboomBOOMboomBOOMboomBOOMboom

They laughed and they shouted at the colors. It was so wonderful. It was so bright. It was a miracle.

BOOMboomBOOMboomBOOMboomBOOMboom

The music stopped.

Silence reigned, except for the quiet crackle of the fires.

All that were left were corpses and some surviving Subjuggulators that collapsed in exhaustion the second the music ceased.

*

After some time, the surviving crew gathered up their things and stuffed them into any vans that survived the party.

One young troll, with a whole new, wonderful world in front of his eyes, sat in a cramped van and rode away, leaving a thousand corpses behind him.

No one ever spoke of the town again.

*

Gamzee wandered into a dark room. He hadn't had a pie in days and his head hurt. Everything was not okay.

He heard the blood pulse through his ears. He rubbed his face, smearing his makeup.

Oh man his head was POUNDING.

Pounding.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

[A Fan]

This is stupid and I should feel stupid.
(A Fan: Humble on the battlefield ain't no way t' be, son.)

Heavy: Answer

show spoiler

hide spoiler

-- redScout [RS] began contacting redHeavy [RH] --
RS: bonk!
RH: SCOUT
RH: DA
RH: THERE YOU ARE TINY BABY MAN
RS: BONK!
RH: UH YES
RH: DA
RH: WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN, THE REST OF US REAL MEN WERE OUT DEFENDING POINT WITHOUT TINY BABY MAN LIKE YOU
RS: bonk!
RS: BONK!
RS: bonk!
RS: BONK!
RH: YES I GET IT BABY MAN YOU ARE HITTING THE WEAK ENEMY BLU TEAM WITH YOUR BAT AND IMITATING NOISE THAT COMES FROM IT
RH: NO ONE CARE
RH: GET BACK TO DEFENDING POINT STUPID
RS: no!
RH: WHAT WAS THAT RED SCOUT
RS: I SAID NO WAY YA BIB WEARIN DOPE!
RS: bonk bonk bonk d
RH: BABY MAN
RH: ARE YOU SPY
RH: YOU ARE FREAKING ME OUT
RS: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!
RS: haha, yeah.
RS: THAT FREAKIN SCOUT COULD BE A SPY I MEAN I THINK I COULD BE A SPY
RS: but no way, i am doin good.
RH: OH NO
RH: THIS IS BAD
RH: DO NOT TELL ME YOU ARE BLU SPY
RS: DID ANYONE HAPPEN TO KILL A BLU SPY YET
RH: NO STUPID
RH: THE ENGINEER WAS KILLED AND HIS SENTRY SAPPED SOLDIER IS DEAD AND SO IS SNIPER
RH: I HAVE NOT HEARD FROM MEDIC IN AGES
RS: hah hah.
RH: HAH HAH
RH: BONK HAS FINALLY GONE TO TINY BABY HEAD
RS: BONK?
RS: aint no more bonk pally.
RS: NO BIG DEAL
RS: that crap was just poison anyway, didnt ya hear?
RH: UH NO
RH: NYET I DID NOT DRINK TINY BABY DRINK
RS: THEN DRINK IT IN PALLY CAUSE THATS HOW POSION TASTES!
RS: it rots you.
RS: BREAKS YOUR KNEECAPS.
RS: and the cabinet looks back at you through the hole in the respawn room.
RS: BUT THERE IS NO RESPAWN NOW.
RS: only overtime and the understandin that there is no comin back.
RH: OH NO
RH: THIS IS SAD DAY
RS: time to kick this noob-sauce class shit.
RS: TIME TO USE THE FORCE A NATURE!
RS: time to do what i was always meant to.
RS: AS A DESCENDANT OF THE BLU SPY
RS: blu teams better knucklehead.
RS: BLU IS BETTER THAN EVERYBODY.
RS: bonk!
RH: RED SCOUT
RH: NYET
RS: im all thats left on that side you baldy.
RS: I FINALLY KNOW WHAT I AM GOIN TO DO.
RS: because i was both on red team ):b
RS: AND ON BLU TEAM. d
RS: and now.
RS: AND NOW.
RS: i am going to own you so hard.
RH: NO
RH: OH NO
RH: THIS IS BAD
RS: I AM GOING TO KILL YOU YOU FAT BALD BASTARD
RS: and paint the blu team intel with your blood.
RS: FROM YOUR VEINS WILL DRIP MY MILK.
RS: your batted in skulls will make my special stardust.
RS: WELCOME TO OVERTIME, BROTHER.
RS: bonk!
RS: BONK!
RS: bonk!
RS: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK!
-- redScout [RS] ceased contacting redHeavy [RH] --

Ymph.
Hll ymph.
Hll. Fdda. YMPH.

EDIT: Also, Decker, that was a thing of horrifying beauty. Fucking war drums. That is exactly how they work.

[ceruleanTresses]

If you guys are still looking for trashy rainbow drinker fanfiction, I'd just like to quietly direct your attention to "Blood and Bloodless" in my sig. I am months ahead of the game here.

[DJ-P0N3]

>: Mayor: Keep being stupid
Your attempt is an overwhelming success


Engineer: Abort

show spoiler

hide spoiler

-- bluEngineer [RE] began contacting redDemoman [RD] --
BE: Woowee, change a plans. We ain't doin this gig no more.
BE: Sorry for wastin your time one-eye.
RD: Eye'm not the leader anymore.
RD: Heavy is.
BE: He is?
RD: Ach! He wouldn't stop blubbering about it, so eye let 'em be the leader instead.
BE: Could a seen that comin a mile away.
BE: Time to call that mean mother hubbard.
RD: Whats going on?
BE: Nothin, this gig sucks. You should quit.
BE: Sorry about all this.
RD: >.?

-- blueEngineer [BE] began contacting redHeavy [RH] --
BE: Hey, change a plans, we ain't doin this gig anymore. I quit.
RH: HEY
RH: GUESS WHO IS BIG MAN OF RED TEAM NOW
RH: IM THE LEADER IS ME
RH: YOUR PLAN TO CRIPPLE BIG MAN RIVAL TEAM HAS FAILED TINY BABY MAN
BE: Yeah, I know. He told me.
BE: This job is bad news. Cause the end a the world, ain't goin to solve shit son.
BE: So forget it, just go back to Russia.
BE: Boxin in your rings or whatever.
RH: HAHAHA
RH: YOU ARE SO FUNNY TO ME
RH: DEMOMAN AND I HAVE ALREADY CRUSHED YOUR TINY BABY TEAM PREEMPTIVELY
RH: RED TEAM IS BEST TEAM
RH: WE WILL BEAT YOU TINY BABY BLUS IN NO TIME AT ALL
BE: Heck no.
BE: No you brainless bald mother hubbard. I don't care about this job anymore.
BE: Just quit, I am. So should you.
RH: HOROSHO
RH: YOU ARE EITHER TINY BABY MAN OR EVEN BIGGER SAD AND WEAK TODDLER MAN
RH: BOTH OF WHICH ARE FEEBLE COMPARED TO ME
RH: WE ARE OFFICIALLY NOT FRIENDS
BE: Woowee, like you haven't said that a million times.
BE: Ain't no way you are seein this how I am.
BE: You have got to be the dumbest sack of muscle I have ever laid eyes on.
BE: Only good thing about you is your strength and amount a health.
BE: And bein FAT AND DUMB AND AN ALL AROUND JACKASS WITH A REAL SMALL HEAD.
RH: HAHAHA
RH: WHAT IS SO GREAT ABOUT YOUR WEAK BABY TOYS
RH: I CAN CRUSH THEM WITH SASHA AND MY FISTS
RH: YOU ARE JUST TINY BOY WITH RC CAR WITH GUN TAPED TO IT
BE: Heck no, no more a this low-brow insult slingin from you. I am a damn good engineer and could build a machine to do what you do.
RH: DA I SEE WHAT IS NOW
RH: WHAT DO TOYS EVEN DO
RH: THEY ARE JUST STUPID STUPID STUPID
RH: I CALL YOUR BLUFF TINY BABY MAN
RH: IS TIME I BEAT YOU DOWN
BE: Aaaaah, Heavy wait!
RH: HAHA RUN COWARD
RH: I AM COMING FOR YOU
BE: No don't!
RH: I WILL SHOVE WRENCH DOWN THROAT
RH: AND TEAR OFF YOUR FINGERS ONE BY ONE
RH: I HOPE YOU CALL FOR MOTHER
BE: Oh heck no, don't do it! Please!
RH: WHY NOT TINY BABY MAN
BE: I'm not sure, but I really, REALLY don't want to die yet!
RH: HAHAHA
RH: YOUR BLUFF IS WEAK JUST LIKE YOU
RH: I AM COMING FOR YOU NOW
RH: I HAVE MEDIC RIGHT BEHIND ME
RH: UH OH THAT WAS MISTAKE TO SAY FORGET I MENTION IT
BE: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
RH: YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
BE: Don't do it Heavy!
BE: Don't kill me! Just quit the job!
-- redHeavy [RH] ceased contacting bluEngineer [BE] --
BE: Oh shit.

[pimudragonfeline]

Here's something:

The value 0f a g00d educati0n.[/meh]

show spoiler

hide spoiler

She could feel the heat radiating off his chest. His bitter indifference to the hemospectrum. This glorious destroyer, the most desired Kismesiss, the most desired Matesprit; and yet he chose her. The geeky, gothy, mutant troll with all the grace of a wriggler.

Bluh Bluh Bluh utter crud.

This young troll has finished their 13th attempt to read this book your morail sent this on rainbow drinkers.
Great job of writing a character that should’ve been killed as a wriggler, Smires. Gr8t j0b. [/sarcastic] Each time you read it is was even more utter crud. You have lived near an Infestation of those utter monsters for a long time; and you’ve had to put up with them. Then your Morail sends you this crap that wrongly portrays both sides. [/exasperation]

As a g00d M0rail y0u’ll teach her… If she wants t0 be a rainb0w drinker s0 much she’ll learn real s00n. Then she will never be ign0rant again. [/glee]

[Dermonster]

Bits of Gulchstuck, Chapter 3.

show spoiler

hide spoiler

artificialInstigator began pestering southernMercenary

aI: Tex, what the hell do you think you're doing?
sM: I'm going into this floaty orb thing.
aI: What!? Why?
sM: From what you've told me about this game thing, this thing dispenses a boatload of info on the item that goes into it.
aI: yeah, and you think prototyping yourself is a good idea!?
aI: It was hard enough getting you out of the Epsilon unit, god dammit Tex stop doing things like this!
sM: You can't stop me. I'm doing this for your own good.
aI: Fuckdamnit Tex, my own good is making sure you survive this whole thing! I'm not letting you go in there!
aI: If you do, I'm just going to have to bring you back out again!
sM: I'd like to see you try.
aI: Tex, why the hell won't you ever listen to reason!
aI: Every single goddamn time I try to talk sense into you it's always Ignore ignore Ignore!
sM: church
aI: What the hell good did you think going with O'mally would do huh!? You died! Do you ever think about what that made me go through!?
sM: Church.
aI: Oh, and let's not forget the whole 'Go kill the Meta and Wash at the same time, alone!' Plan.
aI: What the hell were you even thinking, it was a miracle the others even got us out of the memory unit!
sM: CHURCH!
aI: WHAT!?
sM: Why are there two of you?
aI: Huh?
Church: Hi.
aI: Who the fuck are you!?
Chuch: You. From the future. One moment.
F!Church throws a pistol into the kernal.
Church: You, Past me, shoot the target over there with the sniper.
aI: What? What target? Who are you!?
Church: look, in case you have forgotten, look up. THERE IS A BIG GODDAMN METEOR HEADING FOR US. SHOOT THE DAMNED BULLSEYE.
A quick look, a panicked shoot, and a rush of air.
The landscape changed. They looked over a landscape dark and bleak. Remnants of base codename High Ground lay behind them. A Komodo dragon came to the top of a hill, acrid smoke and rushing air not bothering it in the slightest. Remnants of base codename High Ground lay behind them.
The Land of Sulfur and Gale
Church: Right, now that that's settled...
And then Future!Church stepped into the Pistol Kernal
Churchsprite: Much better. Kinda weird though.
Churchsprite: Bang
sM: Who are you and why do you look like Church?
Churchsprite: I already said. I'm from the future. A really bad one.
aI: How bad?
Churchsprite: Oh, let's see. Grif getting killed by his denizen. Sarge mass-murdering his Blue-bird consorts, Donut was perpetually stoned off of some secretions his planet oozed, Simmons defecting to Derse, Tucker somehow revived the fucking Meta, Sister basically just exploded her planet, and don't even get me started on Caboose. Oh, also, both of you pre-entry prototyped with yourselves and every single monster basically became unstoppable.
sM: Right. I see some big hulker over there. I'm going to take out some anger on it. Any objections?
aI: Nope.
Churchprite: Nada.
sM: Good.

Silence.

aI: So you combined with Tex?
Churchsprite: Yes.
Churchsprite: Bang

More silence.

aI: What was i-
Churchsprite: I spent three years with the physical and mental attributes of both genders at the age of 24, along with access to all of Tex's memory.
Churchsprite: I don't want to talk about it.

The absence of noise was deafening.

Churchsprite: It was a bit itchy.

[lucidSeraph]

@Decker: ooh, yes, lovely stuff

[draconicAlgorithm]

I would totally read more if I wasn't so tired right now. Man.

So I'll say this:

@wily: That was amazing. I just love a good Strider Bros fic. And the thought of having more guardian dream bubble times is even better.

@Kat: Also awesome. Trashiest fic ever. xD

Now have some horror fic. Uh, sorta. Suspense? I don't even know any more, man. This ended up being so much longer than I had intended.

John Egbert / Gamzee Makara

Funhouse

show spoiler

hide spoiler

John wasn't really sure what he'd been expecting when he arrived on the meteor. He didn't think it'd be this dark and foreboding, or this clinical-looking. It made him feel incredibly small and insignificant, plodding through the shadowed halls and trying to find his way around, to find anyone at all.

He didn't have much time. He didn't understand all the specifics of the Scratch—that was Dave and Jade's thing, not his—but he understood the basics. There were only short windows of time where the rift between sessions opened. The first had been used to shove Jack into the troll's session. The second, and smallest of the three, had been used to put John into the troll's session. Only one person could fit, and, with his god tier abilities, he was most powerful and most mobile. He had to get things ready for the last opening. In theory, the third one, and the largest, could be used to bring all the trolls back into the kid's session. With Rose dealing with the tumor, it was surmised that they would be safe there until Jade was able to breed Bilious Slick and they could enter the new universe.

However, all these plans hinged on John finding the trolls in time. He's had three hours to begin with, and one had already gone by, with him unable to get a hold of anyone but Jade and not a troll in sight. Where could they all be? He knew Jade had told Kanaya and Karkat of the plan. Presumably, they had told the others. But was the timeline right? He had no idea. All of this stuff was confusing and just made him more anxious to find someone, or at least be able to chat!

John was jolted out of his own thoughts when his glasses flashed, signifying that someone was trying to contact him through pesterchum. Finally! He didn't care who it was, as long as—

Oh. Oh, god. He recognized this name.

He recognized it all too well.

-- terminallyCapricious [TC] began trolling ectoBiologist [EB] --

TC: hello, motherfucker
TC: I SAID, HELL-MOTHERFUCKING-LO
TC: did you miss me? (o:
EB: oh god oh god oh god
EB: not you not you not you
EB: i can't believe you're one of them
TC: OF COURSE I'M ONE OF THEM, MOTHERFUCKER
TC: of course i'm one of them
TC: WHO DID YOU THINK WAS TROLLING YOU
EB: not one of you guys!
EB: oh my god, you gave me fucking nightmares as a kid
EB: you're why i hate clowns
TC: hahaha, that's great, motherfucker
TC: THAT'S FUCKING GREAT
TC: because the time has finally come
TC: FOR YOU AND I TO MEET, FACE TO MOTHERFUCKING FACE
TC: won't that be fun?
EB: no no no god no
EB: stay the fuck away from me
TC: NO WAY, MOTHERFUCKER
TC: no fucking way
TC: I TOLD YOU
TC: i motherfucking told you
TC: THAT I WOULD BE THE ONE TO SPILL YOUR MOTHERFUCKING CANDY ASS RED BLOOD
TC: and our fated meeting has finally come
TC: ARE YOU READY, MOTHERFUCKER?
TC: are you motherfucking ready?
TC: HONK
TC: honk
TC: HONK

-- terminallyCapricious [TC] ceased trolling ectoBiologist [EB] --

With shaking hands, John took off his glasses.

For years, he'd been plagued by terminallyCapricious. When the trolling had first started, he'd gotten nightmares of clowns killing him in his sleep. No matter how many times he'd blocked the bastard, he always came back, promising death threats on him and his friends. The worst times were when he decided to get descriptive. He'd go on and on, trolling right through a blocking like it wasn't even there. Those were the nights John didn't get to sleep.

At first, he'd thought that this sadistic freak was associated with the other trolls that plagued all four of them. Once he'd found out more about Karkat and the others, though, he had hoped otherwise.

When he changed his chumhandle, the trolling finally stopped. He had thought that TC wasn't actually one of the trolls, and that he was just some stupid kid on the internet that got his kicks from terrifying kids younger than him.

He was wrong. Horribly, terribly wrong.

For a long moment, he was frozen in terror. What should he do? Try to avoid him? He didn't even know what TC looked like. He didn't know what any of the trolls looked like. This guy could be any of them.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, John carefully put his glasses back on. He had to keep moving. For everyone's sake, he'd just have to face his fears.

He had no choice but to continue making his way through the darkness. He walked slowly, trying to make as little sound as possible while still listening for anyone else. Soon enough, the hallways finally opened up into a larger room. It was hardly an improvement, though.

When John walked through the doorway, all he saw were glass tubes. A greenish liquid bubbled inside them, looking stagnant and murky. He could just make out the grotesque shapes of white and black bodies through the opaque goo. Each was at least five and a half feet tall, and John could just barely see past their tops. It was enough to make him appreciate the size of the room. Past the mass of tubes, he could just see three larger ones containing even more hideous monsters, and beyond them, a computer that looked much like the one he had used to create him and his friends and their guardians. The only light that lit up the place appeared to be over by the same computer, casting the edges of the room in a sort of eerie twilight. The artificial radiance was filtered through the glass cylinders themselves, giving it an even more ethereal feel.

Something about this set up was familiar, and it made his skin crawl. Still, it seemed better than the black hallways.

He began walking past the tubes, meandering his way through loops and turns. Every time he thought he was getting closer to the center of the room, and perhaps getting through it, the winding walkway brought him back to the sides. It was frustrating and nerve wracking. He kept seeing the forms in the glass containers out of the corner of his eyes, thinking they were someone following him. He was in a constant state of paranoia.

Not long after he had started his way through the labyrinth of a lab, he noticed music. It was faint at first, but the farther he walked, the louder it became. He recognized the up-beat tune, though he couldn't place it. Usually, it might have brightened his spirits, but something about it was unnerving. It wasn't the type of music, but something else. Some memory in the back of his mind that he couldn't quite place yet. Finally, he began to hear the singer, a woman. He caught a few of the lyrics.

"This used to be a funhouse,
But now it's full of evil clowns.
It's time to start the countdown.
I'm gonna burn it down, down, down."

They made his blood run cold. He remembered this song now—Dave had made him listen to it ironically several months ago, long before they started playing SBurb. John's reaction had been anything but positive. Dave knew he hated clowns, but he still teased him about it!

But this wasn't Dave teasing him. The significance of the setup of the room hit him as well. This whole place was set up almost like a funhouse—like a maze full of mirrors, except with these creepy capsules instead.

It wasn't by coincidence. This was here for a reason. Someone was waiting for him.

"Evil clowns."

He shivered again.

Behind him, he heard a honk.

John spun, eyes wide, just barely stifling a scream. He almost missed the flash of movement, but he was sure he saw it. Just past a wall of tubes, he saw a smudge of black that quickly disappeared. He wasn't alone.

For a long moment, John couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. Fear has seized up his longs. Oh god, he was going to die here, he was going to die, oh god, oh god, oh god oh god ohgodohgodohgod—

He shoved the panic back and gulped for air. He had to keep a hold of himself. He had to find the trolls and bring them back. Everyone was counting on him!

And then, the obvious occurred to him. Why was he walking when he could fly? What else were these god powers for besides god-moding his way out of impossible situations? With a little mental push, his hands began to glow. As they did, his awareness of the still air around him became hypersensitive, to the point where it seemed like he could feel each and every atom and molecule that made it up. At first, the feeling at been kind of disconcerting, but now it was like second nature. He sent those tiny particles moving, swirling around him until he felt his feet begin to lift off the ground. He rose farther and farther, until he finally hovered above the tubes. He could see the black square of the exit in the distance—

And then the lights went out.

The only illumination in the room was his own steady glow, but even that was fading, now that the wind had been awakened. Fear began creeping up on him again, but he couldn't let it take over now. If it did, he'd lose control and fall to the ground.

Instead, he focused. He listened carefully, let the shifting winds bring sound to his ears. Even with that aid, he couldn't hear anything of interest. Then, slowly, he glided in the direction that he had seen the exit. It was impossible, to tell where it was exactly, or even how far he was away from it, but he had to try—

Something long and hard hit him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him. Literally. The extra burst of air sent him spiraling backwards head over heels. He managed to take control of himself after a few turns, but it was too late. He was completely disoriented, and if it wasn't for the pull of gravity, he wouldn't have even known which way was up. While tumbling, he had subconsciously grabbed hold of whatever he'd been hit with. He realized now that it was oddly wet and sticky. Even so, he couldn't see it. It felt sort of like a bat, but heavier. And he had a sinking feeling that he knew what the sticky wetness on it was. He tossed it away, loathe to hold it any longer. It clattered to the ground.

He heard a faint honk just below him.

John managed to fling himself out of the way as something whizzed past him by inches. Whatever it was, he heard it become embedded in the ceiling with a quiet thump. He flew upwards, a little scared of what he would find. He felt around until he finally found it.

... An arrow?

He yelped when another hit the ceiling, missing his cheek by inches. He zoomed away, flying blindly. Even though he couldn't see where he was going, somehow, his pursuer could. Arrow after arrow nearly hit him. A few grazed him, slicing through clothing and skin underneath. He weaved back and forth, but even that didn't seem to work.

Finally, the arrows stopped, and John paused for just a moment. Maybe he had run out of ammo?

And then he heard the revving of what sounded like a chainsaw just below him.

Oh shit.

John flung himself backwards, and as he did, he heard the rush of air and the whirring of blades as it just missed him. He realized immediately what had happened. His pursuer, whether it was terminallyCapricious or someone else, had managed to climb on top of one of the cylinders. It would be just high enough to reach him, since the ceiling was too low for him to fly too high.

John tried to fly away, to get out of range of the chainsaw, but when he did, his neck caught on his collar. It was then he realized that the noise of the chainsaw was oddly erratic. When he'd dodged it, it must have caught his hood. Now he was trapped.

Before he could try to pull himself free, his attacker grabbed hold of his hood. John was completely powerless as he was swung around by it, his collar cutting into his neck and choking him. Finally, he was released and sent flying out into the maze of capsules. He hit one with his back, sending pain shooting through his body, but a moment later, the chainsaw hit as well, shattering the glass. Splinters rained down on him amid a wash of the fluid contained within it, and he heard the body of the creature inside hit the floor with a thump. Bruised, bleeding, and soaked in who knew what, he sat for a moment, trying to gain his bearings.

He had to move. Whoever it was trying to kill him knew where he was now. He had to get himself free of the chainsaw and escape. Even in the dark, he found the weapon still running a few feet beside him. Managing not to accidentally cut himself, he grabbed hold of the handle and pulled on his hood as hard as he could. It wouldn't budge. He continued to pull, but to no avail. In the back of his head, he realized that the music was louder now. He had to be near the center of the room, to be able to hear it over the chainsaw noise.

"9, 8, 7, 6."

For some reason, the countdown made him nervous. He pulled harder.

"5, 4, 3."

Finally, he could hear the hood ripping. Any second now, he'd have it free—

Oh god, was that another honk?

"2, 1."

Yes, that was definitely a honk. He could hear the footsteps, too. John gave the hood one last strong tug, and the frayed end was finally free. The honks were practically on top of him.

"Fun."

John rolled out of the way, slicing open his arms on glass shards, but it was better than the alternative. His pursuer had a new weapon, and he used it to smash the chainsaw entirely. Whatever it was, it was blunt and powerful. It sent shock waves through the ground, and the chainsaw itself was obliterated. Sparks flew up from the impact, igniting gasoline from the chainsaw and the liquid from inside the tank. John climbed to his feet as the flames began to rise and finally got a look at his attacker.

A single figure stood motionless, his form tall and lanky. All John could see of his face in the flickering firelight were sharp teeth, red eyes, a mane of crazy black hair, and two long orange horns. A hammer, one that John recognized as his own ultimate weapon, hung loosely from the creature's grip. With a start, he also realized that his face was smeared with face paint like a clown's.

Before John had even realized what he was doing, he was already up in the air. He turned and fled. When he reached the doorway he glanced backwards one last time. terminallyCapricious, for he was no longer in any doubt that was who it was, simply stood as a black silhouette amongst the spreading fire.

The music played on.

"This used to be a funhouse,
But now it's full of evil clowns.
It's time to start the countdown.
I'm gonna burn it down, down, down.
I'm gonna burn it down."

A cacophony of honks mocked him as he escaped into the safety of the darkness beyond the exit.

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Funfact: I actually hate the song "Funhouse" by Pink. But it fit so well. I didn't even plan the burn it down thing. Really.

And hey, look! I didn't even kill anyone! I just, y'know, roughed up John a bit.

I knew that hood was gonna be trouble.

[Redbud-Tree]

I... wow, draconic... I am SO glad I posted up that little prompt the generator offered me. You took it and made it something amazing and disturbing and.... dare I say darkly beautiful all at once?

You have all of my awe at this moment in time. ALL OF IT.

[Caprisaurus]

I went on the generator and got this prompt;

Nepeta Leijon / Eridan Ampora

Queer

SOMEONE PLEASE FILL THIS AND DO THIS JUSTICE
Because I can't

[draconicAlgorithm]

@Redbud: B'aaaw, thanks. I'm glad you enjoyed my creepiness. :3

@Caprisaurus: I SECOND THIS MOTION. IT MUST BE DONE. -also can't-

[Redbud-Tree]

... Is it just me or does that generator love Eridan? XD

[Doodled]

A little something about the Subjuggulators.

Rhythm: Mean Music

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Even among the Subjuggulators, there were those who were feared and respected among all others.

They dressed in white and wore masks, split down the middle. The left side was comedy and the right was tragedy.

They never spoke.

They never bloodied their hands.

They were the avatars of the mirthful messiahs.

They played the mean music.

*

“They say there's a traitor hiding here.” Said one of the Subjuggulators. His teeth were yellow and cracked and his eyes were vacant.

They were all packed in the back of one of the many too small vans that rolled down the road. The vans were all brightly colored, smeared and streaked with the colors of the hemospectrum. All except for one. The van in the front was white.

One of the new Subjuggulators looked up at the crooked smiled troll as he spoke.

“They say he spoke out against the empress. Planned to kill her. So we're going to make an example out of them”

“Th-them? But wh-why are...they...here for a few trolls?”

“Oh no little man. Not for a few trolls. We're going to burn the whole town to the ground.”

“Oh...”

The old troll looked at the nervous young one, in his new makeup and clean clothes.

“You haven't hit the wicked elixir yet, have you?”

“Y-yeah! A bunch of times!”

“Oh no. No, no, no. That stuff is just a funny little joke. A picture of the real thing.” He reached into a bag under the seat and pulled out a small bottle. It swirled in a rainbow of colors as he handed it to the young troll.

“You're probably not ready for the fairy dust yet. Drink up. This is the real deal. This will...open your mind.”

The skinny young troll looked nervously at the bottle. But this was what he was supposed to be, wasn't it? This is what he was raised for. He closed his eyes, leaned his head back and drained the bottle in one go. It was...sickeningly sweet. Like a concentrated syrup of the drink he was used to

His pupils opened wide. He felt the top of his head open up. Everything went blurry. Everything went slow. Everything went dull. He looked up at the elder troll. His horrible grin was exaggerated ten times. All he could see was sharp teeth. Hungry eyes. Dripping paint. He heard laughing, but it was coming from inside his head.

The others drank. Some took a white powder out of their bags, and rubbed it on their gums and in their eyes until they bled. They sat there giggling to themselves until the vans pulled to a stop.

“Wha...” He looked up dizzily at his mentor. The older troll put a finger to his lips.

“Shhh...The avatars are getting ready. Come on out. You'll know what to do.” And they all stumbled out of the van.

The avatars stood in the town square, back to back. They held long sticks with big, white, marshmallow looking heads on the ends. Four trolls trolled four large drums out and lay them reverently in a cross shape around the avatars.

The people in the town watched with growing horror as they realized what was happening. Some screamed. Some barred their doors, but to the young Subjuggulator it all seemed so far away, like he was watching it on TV.

The avatars head the sticks out. Everyone was quiet. They brought the sticks down.

Boom.

They turned slightly in unison, and hit one of the other drums.

Boom.

Turn, hit

Boom.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

The rhythm picked up, and young troll felt something in the music.

He briefly recalled how he loved the music of the Subjuggulators. How it seemed to reach past the logic and memories in your brain and press those little emotional buttons. He associated some songs with happy or sad memories. Soon he forgot the memories, but the emotions remained and came out with the music.

He felt something.

BOOM, boom, BOOM, boom, BOOM, boom.

The rhythm rattled around in his drug addled brain and pulled out emotions.

He felt his heartbeat speed up. His mind was on fire. Everything could be okay, but something was wrong. Everything was so dull. So colorless and drab.

He needed to see the color again. He needed it more than he needed food or air. He needed to see a rainbow that matched the music.

He saw the scared trolls, all running into their houses, and he knew where to get the colors from.

*

The same song can bring out completely different emotions. For some it was a burning desire.

For others it was fear.

The music reverberated through the small town, echoing off the small buildings and punching its way through closed doors and locked windows.

Sickening dread overwhelmed them. Some took their own lives, wanting a quick and clean end. Some took the lives of their neighbors, to spare them the carnage. Some took the lives of their neighbors before they could be killed themselves. Maybe the lords will spare me. Maybe I can gain their favor. Maybe they will let me be one of them. I will kill him before he kills me. I will kill everyone to be safe. They are all against me.

BOOM boom BOOM boom BOOM boom BOOM boom

The jungle drums sent them into a panic as the Subjuggulators laughed and danced. They broke into houses, tore open the other trolls and painted the walls with all the colors. Some begged. Some screamed. Some fought back. One pulled a gun and blew a hole in a ghastly clown face. The Subjuggulator caved his head in with a club. He wouldn't fall dead until the music stopped.

They grabbed juggling torches and set them to fabric and furniture. Anything that would burn. The fire was so bright and colorful. The music drove them on like a locomotive. Rhythmic and unstoppable.

BOOMboomBOOMboomBOOMboomBOOMboom

Fires roared. The gutters were running with rainbow colors.

BOOMboomBOOMboomBOOMboomBOOMboom

They laughed and they shouted at the colors. It was so wonderful. It was so bright. It was a miracle.

BOOMboomBOOMboomBOOMboomBOOMboom

The music stopped.

Silence reigned, except for the quiet crackle of the fires.

All that were left were corpses and some surviving Subjuggulators that collapsed in exhaustion the second the music ceased.

*

After some time, the surviving crew gathered up their things and stuffed them into any vans that survived the party.

One young troll, with a whole new, wonderful world in front of his eyes, sat in a cramped van and rode away, leaving a thousand corpses behind him.

No one ever spoke of the town again.

*

Gamzee wandered into a dark room. He hadn't had a pie in days and his head hurt. Everything was not okay.

He heard the blood pulse through his ears. He rubbed his face, smearing his makeup.

Oh man his head was POUNDING.

Pounding.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

Dear gog, that's creepy!

WHOO look I made something:

Summary: In which Nepeta decides to tell Karkat how she feels, but ultimately fails. In other words, Status Quo is God, and the only thing that changes is her shipping wall.

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Today is the day. You're finally going to do it. You're going to tell him how you feel.

You're making this happen!

You stare long and hard at your giant picture of the two of you together, the OTP of your shipping wall, trying to gather courage.

You don't think it's working; it's just making you all wistful and dreamy and--

"Nepeta?"

And oh shit, Equius is right outside the door, and your OTP isn't hidden! Not even your moirail can see it! NO ONE MUST SEE IT!!!

You quickly scramble about on all fours, shoving crate after crate back into place. Picture? What picture? There's no giant picture of you and Karkat hidden conspicuously behind those stacked crates, hehehe.

It turns out that Equius came to check in on you, and, like any good moirail, you inform him of the decision you have made.

"What? No, Nepeta, that mutant blood is far below you! I won't allow it!"

Unsurprisingly, he disapproves.

The two of you argue about it for a few minutes, the fight deteriorating down to the two of you screaming, "Yes!" "No!" at each other.

"Nepeta: Do it anyway."

While it's generally bad form to go against your moirail's opinions, you decide it's purfectly okay to make an exception in this case.

And so, you begin the trek down to the main room, where your fearless leader surely awaits -- along with about seven or eight spectators, and man, you're starting to get nervous and maybe you should've thought this through better.

You approach your target slowly, berating yourself for not thinking to bring yarn to keeps your trembling hands puroccupied.

"Um... Karkat?"

Come on, Nepeta. Don't lose it now. You can do it!

Karkat gives you a nervous look from the corner of his eyes, and, unbeknownst to you, prepares to tiptoe around a very unfortunate, very red, and very unrequited situation.

"Uh, hey Nepeta. I'm... kinda busy right now. Would you mind waiting, or something?"

You meekly tell him that's fine even though it's totally not (seriously, what's wrong with you, aren't cats supposed to be confident and graceful?), and decide to pass the time taking a roll in the horn pile.

Despite the constant honking, it's surprisingly comfortable, and before you know it, you're drifting off to...

When you awaken from your unwanted catnap, you find Karkat is suspiciously absent. Dammit.

----------

So, you failed yesterday. But today, surely, today will be the day. You are gonna march right down there, pounce on your unsuspecting prey, and give him a big, impossible to misinterpret kiss.

Well, you will as soon as you finish updating your shipping wall, anyway.

You've noticed that VriskaTavros isn't going anywhere, so you might as well erase it and put something else up in its stead.

To replace it, you put up two pairs; Sollux with both Aradia and Feferi. You can't say you're really invested in either of the ships, but you're still eagerly lapping up the tension of being placed between a current matesprite and an ex who you clearly still care for. You're just waiting for the balance to tip in one ship's favor.

Okay, now that you've wasted time doing that, it's time to get back on track.

"Nepeta: Confess flushed feelings."

You are fully purpared this time; you rehearsed your lines with Equius (who begrudgingly accepts that you're going through with this), enlisted the help of Tavros to ensure some of the more obnoxious peepers (Terezi and Vriska would never let you live it down) are puroccupied, and remembered to bring a ball of yarn to play with.

You leap from the transportalizer feeling much more confident than yesterday, and bound your way over to your target immediately.

"Hey, Karkitty!"

He blanches, then turns red -- with anger, he assures you. "What the fuck did you just call me?!"

You smile and bat at his shoulder playfully with one of your paws. "Why so flushed?"

He stares at you with wide eyes, unable to retort.

"Nepeta: Be Karkat."

You are now, temporarily, Karkat.

The situation is critical; Nepeta is being surprisingly forward, and no one seems to be coming to your aid: Feferi is watching with quiet interest, Kanaya is still absorbed in her conversation with Rose, Aradia couldn't care less, and Sollux is laughing at you. The bastard.

Vriska and Terezi are suspiciously absent.

How will you escape this situation without hurting the poor troll girl's feelings?

"Karkat: Send her away Request a favor."

"Nevermind, you're just the person I needed. Can you do me a favor?"

You are now Nepeta again. You are just so happy that Karkat needs you for anything. Need is only a few steps from want, which is a few steps from love, and... you are are just so thrilled. So thrilled, you have no idea.

You jump to attention, giving him a salute. "Sure thing! Whatever you need, Karkitty!"

He rubs his forehead, starting to develop a headache, and says, "Can you go get Equius for me? I think Tavros fell down some stairs again."

You don't understand why Karkat would need you for such a simple, menial task, but you are determined to fulfill it nonetheless. You also don't remember seeing Tavros at the bottom of any staircases (you specifically warned him to stay away from those while he was keeping Terezi and Vriska busy), but your leader wouldn't lie to you, now would he?

"I can do that! Just wait right here, I'll be back!

You set off towards Equius' room as quickly as possible, not wanting to make your leader wait. It's only when you reach your moirail that you realize you were completely derailed earlier, and had never managed to admit how you felt.

And of course, by the time you return from the depths of the lab with your moirail in tow, Karkat is long gone.

----------

Twice, now, you've failed. It's disheartening.

Not as much as the recent blow to your shipping wall, but still.

Oh yes, during your nap yesterday, Aradia unexpectedly exploded. No one saw it coming, and poor Sollux was really torn up about it.

Sighing, you draw a big X through the SolluxAradia picture, making a note to do the same to any other pair involving the girl, as well.

Nothing sinks a ship faster than death.

But enough about that. It's time for you to steel yourself, because this time, this time, you are definitely gonna do it. Nothing can stop you from telling Karkat how you feel.

Except, apparently, not getting the chance to talk.

You run into him in the halls, the two of you alone, for once. This is the purfect opurtunity. What could pawsibly go wrong?

This: He takes one look at you and nervously babbles out, "Oh, hey Nepeta! Sorry, I'd love to chat but I'm actually really tired, haven't gotten any sleep since we started this game, so I'm headed to bed!"

You can only gape at him. "But--"

"Karkat: Abscond."

"Gotta go!"

And just like that, he's gone.Transportalized to the safety of his room. You sigh, whisper a useless, "Bye..." in his absence.

If this were a baseball game (whatever that is), it'd be three strikes, you're out.

But since it's not a baseball game (seriously, what is this absurdly named human sport?), well...

There's always tomorrow.

WHOO look how badly it sucks. No seriously, why did I write this it's horrible what was I thinking...

That's both so adorable and sad at the same time.

>: Mayor: Keep being stupid
Your attempt is an overwhelming success


Engineer: Abort

show spoiler

hide spoiler

-- bluEngineer [RE] began contacting redDemoman [RD] --
BE: Woowee, change a plans. We ain't doin this gig no more.
BE: Sorry for wastin your time one-eye.
R Eye'm not the leader anymore.
R Heavy is.
BE: He is?
R Ach! He wouldn't stop blubbering about it, so eye let 'em be the leader instead.
BE: Could a seen that comin a mile away.
BE: Time to call that mean mother hubbard.
R Whats going on?
BE: Nothin, this gig sucks. You should quit.
BE: Sorry about all this.
R >.?

-- blueEngineer [BE] began contacting redHeavy [RH] --
BE: Hey, change a plans, we ain't doin this gig anymore. I quit.
RH: HEY
RH: GUESS WHO IS BIG MAN OF RED TEAM NOW
RH: IM THE LEADER IS ME
RH: YOUR PLAN TO CRIPPLE BIG MAN RIVAL TEAM HAS FAILED TINY BABY MAN
BE: Yeah, I know. He told me.
BE: This job is bad news. Cause the end a the world, ain't goin to solve shit son.
BE: So forget it, just go back to Russia.
BE: Boxin in your rings or whatever.
RH: HAHAHA
RH: YOU ARE SO FUNNY TO ME
RH: DEMOMAN AND I HAVE ALREADY CRUSHED YOUR TINY BABY TEAM PREEMPTIVELY
RH: RED TEAM IS BEST TEAM
RH: WE WILL BEAT YOU TINY BABY BLUS IN NO TIME AT ALL
BE: Heck no.
BE: No you brainless bald mother hubbard. I don't care about this job anymore.
BE: Just quit, I am. So should you.
RH: HOROSHO
RH: YOU ARE EITHER TINY BABY MAN OR EVEN BIGGER SAD AND WEAK TODDLER MAN
RH: BOTH OF WHICH ARE FEEBLE COMPARED TO ME
RH: WE ARE OFFICIALLY NOT FRIENDS
BE: Woowee, like you haven't said that a million times.
BE: Ain't no way you are seein this how I am.
BE: You have got to be the dumbest sack of muscle I have ever laid eyes on.
BE: Only good thing about you is your strength and amount a health.
BE: And bein FAT AND DUMB AND AN ALL AROUND JACKASS WITH A REAL SMALL HEAD.
RH: HAHAHA
RH: WHAT IS SO GREAT ABOUT YOUR WEAK BABY TOYS
RH: I CAN CRUSH THEM WITH SASHA AND MY FISTS
RH: YOU ARE JUST TINY BOY WITH RC CAR WITH GUN TAPED TO IT
BE: Heck no, no more a this low-brow insult slingin from you. I am a damn good engineer and could build a machine to do what you do.
RH: DA I SEE WHAT IS NOW
RH: WHAT DO TOYS EVEN DO
RH: THEY ARE JUST STUPID STUPID STUPID
RH: I CALL YOUR BLUFF TINY BABY MAN
RH: IS TIME I BEAT YOU DOWN
BE: Aaaaah, Heavy wait!
RH: HAHA RUN COWARD
RH: I AM COMING FOR YOU
BE: No don't!
RH: I WILL SHOVE WRENCH DOWN THROAT
RH: AND TEAR OFF YOUR FINGERS ONE BY ONE
RH: I HOPE YOU CALL FOR MOTHER
BE: Oh heck no, don't do it! Please!
RH: WHY NOT TINY BABY MAN
BE: I'm not sure, but I really, REALLY don't want to die yet!
RH: HAHAHA
RH: YOUR BLUFF IS WEAK JUST LIKE YOU
RH: I AM COMING FOR YOU NOW
RH: I HAVE MEDIC RIGHT BEHIND ME
RH: UH OH THAT WAS MISTAKE TO SAY FORGET I MENTION IT
BE: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
RH: YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
BE: Don't do it Heavy!
BE: Don't kill me! Just quit the job!
-- redHeavy [RH] ceased contacting bluEngineer [BE] --
BE: Oh shit.

...

Here's something:

The value 0f a g00d educati0n.[/meh]

show spoiler

hide spoiler

She could feel the heat radiating off his chest. His bitter indifference to the hemospectrum. This glorious destroyer, the most desired Kismesiss, the most desired Matesprit; and yet he chose her. The geeky, gothy, mutant troll with all the grace of a wriggler.

Bluh Bluh Bluh utter crud.

This young troll has finished their 13th attempt to read this book your morail sent this on rainbow drinkers.
Great job of writing a character that should’ve been killed as a wriggler, Smires. Gr8t j0b. [/sarcastic] Each time you read it is was even more utter crud. You have lived near an Infestation of those utter monsters for a long time; and you’ve had to put up with them. Then your Morail sends you this crap that wrongly portrays both sides. [/exasperation]

As a g00d M0rail y0u’ll teach her… If she wants t0 be a rainb0w drinker s0 much she’ll learn real s00n. Then she will never be ign0rant again. [/glee]

I lol'd.

I would totally read more if I wasn't so tired right now. Man.

So I'll say this:

@wily: That was amazing. I just love a good Strider Bros fic. And the thought of having more guardian dream bubble times is even better.

@Kat: Also awesome. Trashiest fic ever. xD

Now have some horror fic. Uh, sorta. Suspense? I don't even know any more, man. This ended up being so much longer than I had intended.

John Egbert / Gamzee Makara

Funhouse

show spoiler

hide spoiler

John wasn't really sure what he'd been expecting when he arrived on the meteor. He didn't think it'd be this dark and foreboding, or this clinical-looking. It made him feel incredibly small and insignificant, plodding through the shadowed halls and trying to find his way around, to find anyone at all.

He didn't have much time. He didn't understand all the specifics of the Scratch—that was Dave and Jade's thing, not his—but he understood the basics. There were only short windows of time where the rift between sessions opened. The first had been used to shove Jack into the troll's session. The second, and smallest of the three, had been used to put John into the troll's session. Only one person could fit, and, with his god tier abilities, he was most powerful and most mobile. He had to get things ready for the last opening. In theory, the third one, and the largest, could be used to bring all the trolls back into the kid's session. With Rose dealing with the tumor, it was surmised that they would be safe there until Jade was able to breed Bilious Slick and they could enter the new universe.

However, all these plans hinged on John finding the trolls in time. He's had three hours to begin with, and one had already gone by, with him unable to get a hold of anyone but Jade and not a troll in sight. Where could they all be? He knew Jade had told Kanaya and Karkat of the plan. Presumably, they had told the others. But was the timeline right? He had no idea. All of this stuff was confusing and just made him more anxious to find someone, or at least be able to chat!

John was jolted out of his own thoughts when his glasses flashed, signifying that someone was trying to contact him through pesterchum. Finally! He didn't care who it was, as long as—

Oh. Oh, god. He recognized this name.

He recognized it all too well.

-- terminallyCapricious [TC] began trolling ectoBiologist [EB] --

TC: hello, motherfucker
TC: I SAID, HELL-MOTHERFUCKING-LO
TC: did you miss me? (o:
EB: oh god oh god oh god
EB: not you not you not you
EB: i can't believe you're one of them
TC: OF COURSE I'M ONE OF THEM, MOTHERFUCKER
TC: of course i'm one of them
TC: WHO DID YOU THINK WAS TROLLING YOU
EB: not one of you guys!
EB: oh my god, you gave me fucking nightmares as a kid
EB: you're why i hate clowns
TC: hahaha, that's great, motherfucker
TC: THAT'S FUCKING GREAT
TC: because the time has finally come
TC: FOR YOU AND I TO MEET, FACE TO MOTHERFUCKING FACE
TC: won't that be fun?
EB: no no no god no
EB: stay the fuck away from me
TC: NO WAY, MOTHERFUCKER
TC: no fucking way
TC: I TOLD YOU
TC: i motherfucking told you
TC: THAT I WOULD BE THE ONE TO SPILL YOUR MOTHERFUCKING CANDY ASS RED BLOOD
TC: and our fated meeting has finally come
TC: ARE YOU READY, MOTHERFUCKER?
TC: are you motherfucking ready?
TC: HONK
TC: honk
TC: HONK

-- terminallyCapricious [TC] ceased trolling ectoBiologist [EB] --

With shaking hands, John took off his glasses.

For years, he'd been plagued by terminallyCapricious. When the trolling had first started, he'd gotten nightmares of clowns killing him in his sleep. No matter how many times he'd blocked the bastard, he always came back, promising death threats on him and his friends. The worst times were when he decided to get descriptive. He'd go on and on, trolling right through a blocking like it wasn't even there. Those were the nights John didn't get to sleep.

At first, he'd thought that this sadistic freak was associated with the other trolls that plagued all four of them. Once he'd found out more about Karkat and the others, though, he had hoped otherwise.

When he changed his chumhandle, the trolling finally stopped. He had thought that TC wasn't actually one of the trolls, and that he was just some stupid kid on the internet that got his kicks from terrifying kids younger than him.

He was wrong. Horribly, terribly wrong.

For a long moment, he was frozen in terror. What should he do? Try to avoid him? He didn't even know what TC looked like. He didn't know what any of the trolls looked like. This guy could be any of them.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, John carefully put his glasses back on. He had to keep moving. For everyone's sake, he'd just have to face his fears.

He had no choice but to continue making his way through the darkness. He walked slowly, trying to make as little sound as possible while still listening for anyone else. Soon enough, the hallways finally opened up into a larger room. It was hardly an improvement, though.

When John walked through the doorway, all he saw were glass tubes. A greenish liquid bubbled inside them, looking stagnant and murky. He could just make out the grotesque shapes of white and black bodies through the opaque goo. Each was at least five and a half feet tall, and John could just barely see past their tops. It was enough to make him appreciate the size of the room. Past the mass of tubes, he could just see three larger ones containing even more hideous monsters, and beyond them, a computer that looked much like the one he had used to create him and his friends and their guardians. The only light that lit up the place appeared to be over by the same computer, casting the edges of the room in a sort of eerie twilight. The artificial radiance was filtered through the glass cylinders themselves, giving it an even more ethereal feel.

Something about this set up was familiar, and it made his skin crawl. Still, it seemed better than the black hallways.

He began walking past the tubes, meandering his way through loops and turns. Every time he thought he was getting closer to the center of the room, and perhaps getting through it, the winding walkway brought him back to the sides. It was frustrating and nerve wracking. He kept seeing the forms in the glass containers out of the corner of his eyes, thinking they were someone following him. He was in a constant state of paranoia.

Not long after he had started his way through the labyrinth of a lab, he noticed music. It was faint at first, but the farther he walked, the louder it became. He recognized the up-beat tune, though he couldn't place it. Usually, it might have brightened his spirits, but something about it was unnerving. It wasn't the type of music, but something else. Some memory in the back of his mind that he couldn't quite place yet. Finally, he began to hear the singer, a woman. He caught a few of the lyrics.

"This used to be a funhouse,
But now it's full of evil clowns.
It's time to start the countdown.
I'm gonna burn it down, down, down."

They made his blood run cold. He remembered this song now—Dave had made him listen to it ironically several months ago, long before they started playing SBurb. John's reaction had been anything but positive. Dave knew he hated clowns, but he still teased him about it!

But this wasn't Dave teasing him. The significance of the setup of the room hit him as well. This whole place was set up almost like a funhouse—like a maze full of mirrors, except with these creepy capsules instead.

It wasn't by coincidence. This was here for a reason. Someone was waiting for him.

"Evil clowns."

He shivered again.

Behind him, he heard a honk.

John spun, eyes wide, just barely stifling a scream. He almost missed the flash of movement, but he was sure he saw it. Just past a wall of tubes, he saw a smudge of black that quickly disappeared. He wasn't alone.

For a long moment, John couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. Fear has seized up his longs. Oh god, he was going to die here, he was going to die, oh god, oh god, oh god oh god ohgodohgodohgod—

He shoved the panic back and gulped for air. He had to keep a hold of himself. He had to find the trolls and bring them back. Everyone was counting on him!

And then, the obvious occurred to him. Why was he walking when he could fly? What else were these god powers for besides god-moding his way out of impossible situations? With a little mental push, his hands began to glow. As they did, his awareness of the still air around him became hypersensitive, to the point where it seemed like he could feel each and every atom and molecule that made it up. At first, the feeling at been kind of disconcerting, but now it was like second nature. He sent those tiny particles moving, swirling around him until he felt his feet begin to lift off the ground. He rose farther and farther, until he finally hovered above the tubes. He could see the black square of the exit in the distance—

And then the lights went out.

The only illumination in the room was his own steady glow, but even that was fading, now that the wind had been awakened. Fear began creeping up on him again, but he couldn't let it take over now. If it did, he'd lose control and fall to the ground.

Instead, he focused. He listened carefully, let the shifting winds bring sound to his ears. Even with that aid, he couldn't hear anything of interest. Then, slowly, he glided in the direction that he had seen the exit. It was impossible, to tell where it was exactly, or even how far he was away from it, but he had to try—

Something long and hard hit him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him. Literally. The extra burst of air sent him spiraling backwards head over heels. He managed to take control of himself after a few turns, but it was too late. He was completely disoriented, and if it wasn't for the pull of gravity, he wouldn't have even known which way was up. While tumbling, he had subconsciously grabbed hold of whatever he'd been hit with. He realized now that it was oddly wet and sticky. Even so, he couldn't see it. It felt sort of like a bat, but heavier. And he had a sinking feeling that he knew what the sticky wetness on it was. He tossed it away, loathe to hold it any longer. It clattered to the ground.

He heard a faint honk just below him.

John managed to fling himself out of the way as something whizzed past him by inches. Whatever it was, he heard it become embedded in the ceiling with a quiet thump. He flew upwards, a little scared of what he would find. He felt around until he finally found it.

... An arrow?

He yelped when another hit the ceiling, missing his cheek by inches. He zoomed away, flying blindly. Even though he couldn't see where he was going, somehow, his pursuer could. Arrow after arrow nearly hit him. A few grazed him, slicing through clothing and skin underneath. He weaved back and forth, but even that didn't seem to work.

Finally, the arrows stopped, and John paused for just a moment. Maybe he had run out of ammo?

And then he heard the revving of what sounded like a chainsaw just below him.

Oh shit.

John flung himself backwards, and as he did, he heard the rush of air and the whirring of blades as it just missed him. He realized immediately what had happened. His pursuer, whether it was terminallyCapricious or someone else, had managed to climb on top of one of the cylinders. It would be just high enough to reach him, since the ceiling was too low for him to fly too high.

John tried to fly away, to get out of range of the chainsaw, but when he did, his neck caught on his collar. It was then he realized that the noise of the chainsaw was oddly erratic. When he'd dodged it, it must have caught his hood. Now he was trapped.

Before he could try to pull himself free, his attacker grabbed hold of his hood. John was completely powerless as he was swung around by it, his collar cutting into his neck and choking him. Finally, he was released and sent flying out into the maze of capsules. He hit one with his back, sending pain shooting through his body, but a moment later, the chainsaw hit as well, shattering the glass. Splinters rained down on him amid a wash of the fluid contained within it, and he heard the body of the creature inside hit the floor with a thump. Bruised, bleeding, and soaked in who knew what, he sat for a moment, trying to gain his bearings.

He had to move. Whoever it was trying to kill him knew where he was now. He had to get himself free of the chainsaw and escape. Even in the dark, he found the weapon still running a few feet beside him. Managing not to accidentally cut himself, he grabbed hold of the handle and pulled on his hood as hard as he could. It wouldn't budge. He continued to pull, but to no avail. In the back of his head, he realized that the music was louder now. He had to be near the center of the room, to be able to hear it over the chainsaw noise.

"9, 8, 7, 6."

For some reason, the countdown made him nervous. He pulled harder.

"5, 4, 3."

Finally, he could hear the hood ripping. Any second now, he'd have it free—

Oh god, was that another honk?

"2, 1."

Yes, that was definitely a honk. He could hear the footsteps, too. John gave the hood one last strong tug, and the frayed end was finally free. The honks were practically on top of him.

"Fun."

John rolled out of the way, slicing open his arms on glass shards, but it was better than the alternative. His pursuer had a new weapon, and he used it to smash the chainsaw entirely. Whatever it was, it was blunt and powerful. It sent shock waves through the ground, and the chainsaw itself was obliterated. Sparks flew up from the impact, igniting gasoline from the chainsaw and the liquid from inside the tank. John climbed to his feet as the flames began to rise and finally got a look at his attacker.

A single figure stood motionless, his form tall and lanky. All John could see of his face in the flickering firelight were sharp teeth, red eyes, a mane of crazy black hair, and two long orange horns. A hammer, one that John recognized as his own ultimate weapon, hung loosely from the creature's grip. With a start, he also realized that his face was smeared with face paint like a clown's.

Before John had even realized what he was doing, he was already up in the air. He turned and fled. When he reached the doorway he glanced backwards one last time. terminallyCapricious, for he was no longer in any doubt that was who it was, simply stood as a black silhouette amongst the spreading fire.

The music played on.

"This used to be a funhouse,
But now it's full of evil clowns.
It's time to start the countdown.
I'm gonna burn it down, down, down.
I'm gonna burn it down."

A cacophony of honks mocked him as he escaped into the safety of the darkness beyond the exit.

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Funfact: I actually hate the song "Funhouse" by Pink. But it fit so well. I didn't even plan the burn it down thing. Really.

And hey, look! I didn't even kill anyone! I just, y'know, roughed up John a bit.

I knew that hood was gonna be trouble.

That was...



Beautiful.

Also, are you going to post the rest of Wizardstuck on AO3?