MSPA Fanfiction VI: Trashy Rainbow Drinker Fanfiction

[draconicAlgorithm]

So many good things lately. Never stop being awesome, guys. Never.

Anyway, here's some alt!kid fic. The idea is actually MayorSillyBiscuits', as it's from his AU roleplay, but I've taken over Jade's part.

My Little Sis

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Smoke billowed up from the crater, obscuring sun and sky, as debris settled below. A young man stared through angular sunglasses, seemingly emotionless, at the place where the old record shop had once stood.

It was the last good one around, too. That was what he got for moving to suburbia.

He almost walked away. What reason did he have to stay? Wasn't his record shop. Wasn't his problem. He had better things to do.

But something stopped him. A weird gut feeling, like there was something there. Something in that crater he was supposed to find. Had to find.

He jumped over the edge, where asphalt and rubble lay piled from the impact.

He was going to regret this. He just knew it.

The walls of the crater were burnt smooth. There wasn't a whole lot of traction, but there was enough to slide down into the center and still be able to climb out. That was a relief. He still couldn't see much for the smoke, though it was beginning to thin out. But he heard the coughing. It sounded like a kid. He walked a little faster.

In the epicenter, staring up at him with blue eyes through round glasses, was a baby. Not a meteor, like any sane person would expect, but a baby. She—as he guessed from her long black hair, since she was wearing a diaper—was sitting quite comfortably on a stuffed rabbit.

He stared down at the kid, debating with himself. Obviously, she was some kind of alien. Who else would arrive on Earth in a meteor? But what should he do with her?

Keep her. Raise her. That was his job, wasn't it? He was her Guardian.

He wasn't really even sure where those thoughts had come from, but they were compelling. It was the weirdest thing, but they seemed right. This was what was supposed to happen. And when she smiled with her buck teeth and held up her grubby little arms to him, he just couldn't walk away. He scooped her up in his arms, bunny and all, and climbed out of the crater.

Oh, yeah. He was going to regret this.

---

He'd found out pretty quickly that Jade just wasn't cut out to be a cool kid. She just couldn't pull off the shades. He'd tried giving them to her, but it was a disaster. They didn't look right just set over her glasses, obviously, and without her glasses, she was totally blind. It didn't seem right for a toddler to have eyesight that bad, but what could he say? She was a weird kid anyway.

She loved plants. Whenever they went for walks in the park, she hugged trees, looked at flowers, rolled in the grass. She loved animals, too. She ran up to dogs and gave them hugs, running her fingers through their fur. She was just so damn adorable, it was unreal.

"Are you a single father?" People asked that a lot. At first, he almost hadn't known what to say. What was a twenty-year-old supposed to do when someone asked him why he had a two-year-old daughter? But he came up with a plausible lie. One he could deal with.

"She's my little sister," he always said. "Half sister. Dad got remarried." When he had to explain why he was her legal guardian, he changed up the excuse a bit. "My parents died in an accident. I'm the only family she's got." No one really ever questioned him after that.

He thought he was doing well by her, though. They still lived in an apartment, but they were moving up. He had a steady job, even if it was in a cubicle. He'd do what he had to keep Jade happy and healthy. He just kept telling himself it was ironic and worked as a DJ in the evenings. Liza, their elderly neighbor, was a godsend. She looked after Jade while he worked.

Jade was a regular little chatterbox now, always talking about the dog she saw in the park on Saturday, or the cartoons she watched on TV. It hadn't been that long ago, though, that she'd said her first word.

"Bro!" She'd called, reaching up her arms and clenching and unclenching her fists. He'd scooped her up in his arms, just like he did the first time in the crater.

"Yeah, Sis. I'm your bro." He kind of liked it when she called him that.

---

"Wow!" Six-year-old Jade exclaimed, her face pressed to the window of the car. "It's so big!" Her gaze was fixed on the house they were driving up to, the one he had just bought. Their house.

"There's even a tree in the yard! An Acer platanoides!" He just grinned as he pulled into the driveway.

"And what's that again, for the dumb people in the car?" He asked her, looking into the back seat with the rear view mirror. He saw her turn her head and stick her tongue out at him.

"It's a Norway Maple, Bro!" Such a little know-it-all when it came to plants. But he wouldn't have it any other way.

He parked the car and opened the door, taking a moment to stare at the house he'd bought. It still seemed insane to him, how quickly things had changed for the better. He'd been moving up in his desk job, and that online puppet business had really taken off, too. Suddenly, he had the money to buy a house. In a house, they could live more comfortably. Jade was growing up. Soon enough, she'd need more space. They both would.

He had things he needed to teach her.

For now, though, he was content to watch as she ran around the yard, exclaiming over the tree and the grass and the bugs. They still had plenty of time. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he did. She wasn't doing anything important yet.

But when she did, she'd be ready. He'd make sure of it.

---

The blade of the shovel caught Lil' Cal squarely, pounding him into the floor. Even as fast as he was, his hand had almost been caught with it.

The mask of aggression instantly dropped from Jade's face. She stared in shock down at the puppet caught under her weapon.

"I... I did it?" She didn't sound sure of herself. She still couldn't believe it. Three years of training and these strifes, and she'd never managed to do more than block before. He was beginning to get worried that she didn't have it in her to actually attack. Apparently, he was wrong.

Slowly, her shocked expression turned to a grin.

"Yes!" She exclaimed. "Yes! I finally did it! I hit Cal!" She let go of the shovel, punching the air with both fists.

He whacked her in the back with a fist, sending her falling over shovel and puppet until she got a face full of carpet.

"What'd ya do wrong?" He asked, like he always did when she lost. He heard a muffled response. "What was that?" Jade lifted up her head.

"Never drop your weapon," she said, sounding dejected. Then, she turned to face him, giving him an apologetic grin. "Sorry, Bro! I sort of forgot!"

"Don't forget again," was all he said in response. He grabbed his suitcase. "I'll be back tonight. Do your homework." She nodded, looking a little dejected. As he walked to the door, though, he heard her speak again.

"Have a good day, Bro. Love ya." Those last two words still managed to choke him up somehow. What kind of man was he, to get worked up over that?

"Yeah," he said in response. He opened the door, then paused. "Maybe we'll watch one of your shitty movies tonight."

"Oh, great! I'll find the perfect one, just you wait!" It didn't take much to get her excited again. Smiling to himself, he walked out the door.

That day at lunch, he found that gummy worms had worked their way onto his sandwich. They didn't go very well with ham and mustard.

---

He still couldn't believe she was already thirteen. It was impossible, as impossible as the fact that he himself was thirty-one. But both were true, and time was running out.

She still wasn't the best fighter. He'd been rougher on her recently, trying to use the last of the time they had training. Soon she'd be on her own. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he did. Soon she wouldn't have him to depend on.

The thought made his heart ache. He didn't want to lose his little sis.

He walked in the door, those thoughts heavy on his mind. He'd just set down his briefcase when he heard her bedroom door slam.

"Why didn't you tell me!?" She yelled from across the kitchen.

"Tell you what?" He asked, sounding more irate than he'd meant to.

"This, asshole!" A wadded up piece of paper hit him in the side of the head, bouncing off and landing on the kitchen table. He picked it up, uncrumpled it. It was one of her drawings.

"What about it?" He asked. It didn't look any different than they normally did.

"Why didn't you tell me I was drawing puppets?" The tone of her voice made him finally look at her. Tears streamed down her face and her blue eyes were red and puffy, like she'd been crying for a while.

"You didn't know?" He asked, quietly, looking back down at the paper. He thought it was odd, at first, but he didn't say anything. He thought it was just another way to get back at him for all the strifes and the teasing. Just like the pranks. He thought maybe she was finally trying to develop a sense of irony.

"I thought I was drawing plants!" She managed to gasp through sobs. "There's something wrong with me!"

"Jade, look," he began, "it'll be—"

"Don't! Don't you dare start patronizing me!" She choked out. "You did this! You and your goddamn puppets! I... I don't even want to see you right now! I've had it! With everything!" She stormed out of the room, before he could even say anything else. He almost started after her, but he was too shocked. She said one last thing before she slammed her bedroom door closed.

"I HATE YOU!"

He didn't remember moving from the kitchen to the living room, but suddenly he was sitting down heavily on the couch. Her words echoed in his head over and over again.

He'd tried. Tried so hard to give her everything. To make sure she was ready. The one thing he'd done that hadn't been entirely towards that end was what screwed her up.

He didn't understand her. He loved her, but he could never understand her, understand what bothered her and what didn't. In her own way, she was just like him. Bottling everything up inside until she finally exploded. But while he just put on his sunglasses, she smiled, pretended everything was okay. Maybe she'd thought everything was okay, too.

He had to talk to her. He couldn't leave things like this. He'd do his best to understand. To take off his mask and be the brother she needed right now.

Because she had things to do. And it was his job to prepare her. Making her crazy wasn't preparing her.

He waited an hour before knocking on her bedroom door.

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If you didn't catch it, the kids in this AU are both different colors AND raised by different guardians. I'm roleplaying as blue!Jade raised by Bro, but I wanted to write a fic to get a little more into her character. Or, what I interpret as her character. I feel like there's still too much Jade and not enough John, but I'm working on it.

The other sort of head canon that I had for this was that the guardians take on some of the personality of their counterpart, too. Bro is still mostly Bro, but there's a recognizable bit of Dad in him, too. Or maybe this is just all Bro? I'll let you decide. xD But the kids still live in the same place as their colors, hence Bro being in suburbia and living in a house, rather than an apartment, and having a desk job. Ironically, of course.

And the last bit about the puppets is from a conversation Jade had with purple!John(MSB), when she sent him some of her drawings.

EDIT: Whoa, page topper!

[ProspitDreamer]

Another Crew

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Rose Lalonde watched from atop the Beat Mesa as her friends arrived. They'd talked about what they were going to do already, and everyone, even Jade agreed it was the only thing they could do. Knowing that just made things feel worse.

"You have no idea how long it took us to get these needles." Dave said. "And that Echidna was a bitch to beat."

"Oh, you're just sore she tore your favorite suit apart Dave." John said. He was holding Echidna's quills in his arms. "I sure hope this works."

"We're really going through with this, aren't we?" Jade said, frowning. "We're all going to disappear forever."

"It's the only way." Rose said solemnly. "Dave, are you ready?"

The Knight of Time took one of the quills from John. "There's no turning back now."

"So, what do you think our lives would be like once we start the scratch?" John walked towards the crack on the mesa Bro created during his fight with Jack.

"We'll still be friends obviously! There's no way that'll change!" Jade answered, trying to put as much cheer in her words as she could, but it sounded hollow. Tears were streaming from her face.

"We can only hope that would be the case." Rose said as she and Jade walked to the crack.

Dave took off his sunglasses as he walked towards the crack, the quill in his hand. He was trying hard to keep his cool, but in the face of utter destruction there was no point. "It's...been great knowing you guys."

"Yes, it's been a pleasure being friends with you three." Rose said sadly.

Jade couldn't stop crying. She gave her friends a hug, words escaping her.

"We'll be friends forever guys, always." John held his paradox sister's hand and nodded to Dave.

Without a word Dave dragged the quills through the diameter of the beat mesa, and once the task was complete returned to the side of his friends. As light engulfed the universe and reality rewinded the 4 kids held each other's hands, content with facing oblivion as long as they were at each other's side.


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In another time, in another universe, a detective in a trench coat ran through the dark alleys of the city's red light district. Closing in on the detective were a pair of assassins in suits, one with a heart sewn on the coat pocket and the other with a club symbol on the hat.

The city's top Problem Sleuth has just found out a terrible secret that could upset the balance of power in the city. If the Midnight Crew, the most powerful gang in the city found out about it they'll be able to rule the city with an iron fist. Problem is, they were pretty smart. You had to be if you wanted to thrive in a city like this. No sooner had Sleuth found out about this secret that the Crew had its best killers after the best detective in the city. And they were getting real close.

Sleuth jumped over a bunch of boxes and climbed over a brick wall. It was difficult, but Sleuth knew there was no way the Crew's cronies could go through that wall. Nothing, unless of course one of the killers after the secret had a grenade rifl-

BANG

Gogdamnit. Of course Clubs Deuce would carry around firepower like that. Aside from being real good with heavy weapons Clubs Deuce wasn't that very useful to the Midnight Crew, but it was all Deuce needed to be one of its best members.

Sleuth ducked into an alley that was both a dead end and had a wall too high to jump over. It seemed to Heart Boxcars, Deuce's partner and the big guy of the crew, that they had they had Sleuth trapped. The boss wanted Sleuth alive so they couldn't just pepper the detective with bullets now, so they had no choice but to leave Sleuth only partially dead instead of completely. Boxcars walked towards Sleuth, fists balled up to begin beating on the detective when a flash grenade exploded, stunning Boxcars and Deuce.

The gambit worked. Sleuth wasn't expecting the grenade to explode that early, but it looked like Lady Luck was on the detective's side. Sleuth ran past Boxcars and Deuce, headed into a practical labyrinth of alleyways to throw the Midnight crew off and entered a safehouse Pickle Inspector loaned to Sleuth, where Diamonds Droog and Spades Slick were waiting with their weapons raised.

Lady Luck was so fickle.

"Surrender Sleuth." Droog said. "There's no way you're leaving this delapitated apartment alive."

"You ain't scaring me, Droog." Sleuth lied, because Droog packed way more firepower than Deuce did and in a smaller package to boot. "I got the information you and your crew need to rule this city, and I got back-up coming here any moment. I got all aces in my hand Droog, all of them."

"I can see through your bluff Sleuth. Tell us what we need to know and you might get out of this alive." Droog aimed a really dangerous weapon at Sleuth's head. At least it'll take only one shot to remove a lot of weight on Sleuth's shoulders.

"You wouldn't." Sleuth drew a weapon from a coat pocket. It wasn't as dangerous as the thing Droog had aimed on Sleuth's forehead, but if Lady Luck changed her mind the tables would surely turn. "You know what I got in my pockets, Droog. If I go down, I can guarrantee you ain't going to escape this alive."

It was a classic mexican stand-off. First guy who moves is dead. There was no way for either of them to break the deadlock, unless a third party intervened. Which was what Spades Slick just did.

Before Sleuth could react Slick ran towards the detective and brought down his hammer. Sleuth collapsed, the sheer force of the blow knocking the detective unconcious. "Haha, I guess Sleuth didn't see that coming, eh, Droog?" Slick grinned, and his smile was like the one you saw when a shark was about to drag you into the deeps.

"Took you long enough." Droog said with disdain. It was irritating, the way Slick treated their whole operation like an elaborate joke but he got the job done and he was pretty good leader to boot. "One more second and I would've blasted Sleuth's head off."

"Aw, you wouldn't do that, Droog. Haha, the look on Sleuth's face when I smacked her with my hammer is priceless. This just isn't her lucky day." Slick smashed an old sewing machine lying around the safehouse accumulating dust and gave a laugh.

Diamonds Droog sighed wearily as she slid her needle wand into her pocket. This operation could've been much quicker if they grabbed Sleuth as soon as she got the info, but no, that wouldn't have been fun.

Later Clubs Deuce and Hearts Boxcars arrived, arguing. They were both discussing whose fault it was that Problem Sleuth escaped, until they saw her tied up and still unconcious from Slick's sneak attack.

"See, if you didn't take my fucking glasses we would've caught that bitch." Boxcars grumbled as he put on those ridiculously cool glasses of his.

"I already said I'm sorry, Boxcars! It isn't my fault you have the coolest glasses in the history of coolsville." Deuce squealed as she casually reloaded her grenade rifle. "And besides we at least got to see a lot of pretty lights while we regained our vision!"

Boxcars was about to say something when Droog intervened. "Just as well. Slick knew where Problem Sleuth was headed anyway. It was a win-win situation. But next time don't do anything stupid like falling for such an obvious trap." She glared at Clubs Deuce, who was looking down on her shoes, and Hearts Boxcars, who was trying to ignore his irritation.

"Hey now, what's with the angry faces!?" Slick appeared behind Deuce and Boxcars, putting a friendly arm on both of them. "What's important is that we got her. If you guys are still feeling that you didn't do much, why don't we take it out on Problem Sleuth!?"

"I could go for some Sleuth beat downs." Boxcars said.

"Yay! We're friends again!" Deuce grabbed Boxcars' arm and skipped towards Sleuth's body.

"Gotta say boss." Droog said out loud over the sound of herself, Clubs Deuce, Spades Slick and Hearts Boxcars kicking Problem Sleuth in the gut. "Moments like these makes putting up with your shenanigans worth it."

"What can I say." Slick sent a pretty hard kick to Sleuth's back. "I know what my friends want."

A/N

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I had a lot of fun with this one, but I think the chase scene could use some work.

EDIT; Just changed a sentence that seemed a bit awkward to me.

This thing. This was the epitome of creativity. This left me staring in awe. 0_0

[ceruleanTresses]

Hey, wilySubversionist, how would you feel about my doing a lyric rewrite of "Walking Far From Home" (the song, I mean)? There appear to be twelve verses, so I was thinking it might be fun to have a different troll sing each one.
Of course, since you like the song, I figure it's entirely possible that you might want to do a lyric rewrite yourself, which is why I'm asking.

[lovelyAssistant]

So many good things lately. Never stop being awesome, guys. Never.

Anyway, here's some alt!kid fic. The idea is actually MayorSillyBiscuits', as it's from his AU roleplay, but I've taken over Jade's part.

My Little Sis

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Smoke billowed up from the crater, obscuring sun and sky, as debris settled below. A young man stared through angular sunglasses, seemingly emotionless, at the place where the old record shop had once stood.

It was the last good one around, too. That was what he got for moving to suburbia.

He almost walked away. What reason did he have to stay? Wasn't his record shop. Wasn't his problem. He had better things to do.

But something stopped him. A weird gut feeling, like there was something there. Something in that crater he was supposed to find. Had to find.

He jumped over the edge, where asphalt and rubble lay piled from the impact.

He was going to regret this. He just knew it.

The walls of the crater were burnt smooth. There wasn't a whole lot of traction, but there was enough to slide down into the center and still be able to climb out. That was a relief. He still couldn't see much for the smoke, though it was beginning to thin out. But he heard the coughing. It sounded like a kid. He walked a little faster.

In the epicenter, staring up at him with blue eyes through round glasses, was a baby. Not a meteor, like any sane person would expect, but a baby. She—as he guessed from her long black hair, since she was wearing a diaper—was sitting quite comfortably on a stuffed rabbit.

He stared down at the kid, debating with himself. Obviously, she was some kind of alien. Who else would arrive on Earth in a meteor? But what should he do with her?

Keep her. Raise her. That was his job, wasn't it? He was her Guardian.

He wasn't really even sure where those thoughts had come from, but they were compelling. It was the weirdest thing, but they seemed right. This was what was supposed to happen. And when she smiled with her buck teeth and held up her grubby little arms to him, he just couldn't walk away. He scooped her up in his arms, bunny and all, and climbed out of the crater.

Oh, yeah. He was going to regret this.

---

He'd found out pretty quickly that Jade just wasn't cut out to be a cool kid. She just couldn't pull off the shades. He'd tried giving them to her, but it was a disaster. They didn't look right just set over her glasses, obviously, and without her glasses, she was totally blind. It didn't seem right for a toddler to have eyesight that bad, but what could he say? She was a weird kid anyway.

She loved plants. Whenever they went for walks in the park, she hugged trees, looked at flowers, rolled in the grass. She loved animals, too. She ran up to dogs and gave them hugs, running her fingers through their fur. She was just so damn adorable, it was unreal.

"Are you a single father?" People asked that a lot. At first, he almost hadn't known what to say. What was a twenty-year-old supposed to do when someone asked him why he had a two-year-old daughter? But he came up with a plausible lie. One he could deal with.

"She's my little sister," he always said. "Half sister. Dad got remarried." When he had to explain why he was her legal guardian, he changed up the excuse a bit. "My parents died in an accident. I'm the only family she's got." No one really ever questioned him after that.

He thought he was doing well by her, though. They still lived in an apartment, but they were moving up. He had a steady job, even if it was in a cubicle. He'd do what he had to keep Jade happy and healthy. He just kept telling himself it was ironic and worked as a DJ in the evenings. Liza, their elderly neighbor, was a godsend. She looked after Jade while he worked.

Jade was a regular little chatterbox now, always talking about the dog she saw in the park on Saturday, or the cartoons she watched on TV. It hadn't been that long ago, though, that she'd said her first word.

"Bro!" She'd called, reaching up her arms and clenching and unclenching her fists. He'd scooped her up in his arms, just like he did the first time in the crater.

"Yeah, Sis. I'm your bro." He kind of liked it when she called him that.

---

"Wow!" Six-year-old Jade exclaimed, her face pressed to the window of the car. "It's so big!" Her gaze was fixed on the house they were driving up to, the one he had just bought. Their house.

"There's even a tree in the yard! An Acer platanoides!" He just grinned as he pulled into the driveway.

"And what's that again, for the dumb people in the car?" He asked her, looking into the back seat with the rear view mirror. He saw her turn her head and stick her tongue out at him.

"It's a Norway Maple, Bro!" Such a little know-it-all when it came to plants. But he wouldn't have it any other way.

He parked the car and opened the door, taking a moment to stare at the house he'd bought. It still seemed insane to him, how quickly things had changed for the better. He'd been moving up in his desk job, and that online puppet business had really taken off, too. Suddenly, he had the money to buy a house. In a house, they could live more comfortably. Jade was growing up. Soon enough, she'd need more space. They both would.

He had things he needed to teach her.

For now, though, he was content to watch as she ran around the yard, exclaiming over the tree and the grass and the bugs. They still had plenty of time. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he did. She wasn't doing anything important yet.

But when she did, she'd be ready. He'd make sure of it.

---

The blade of the shovel caught Lil' Cal squarely, pounding him into the floor. Even as fast as he was, his hand had almost been caught with it.

The mask of aggression instantly dropped from Jade's face. She stared in shock down at the puppet caught under her weapon.

"I... I did it?" She didn't sound sure of herself. She still couldn't believe it. Three years of training and these strifes, and she'd never managed to do more than block before. He was beginning to get worried that she didn't have it in her to actually attack. Apparently, he was wrong.

Slowly, her shocked expression turned to a grin.

"Yes!" She exclaimed. "Yes! I finally did it! I hit Cal!" She let go of the shovel, punching the air with both fists.

He whacked her in the back with a fist, sending her falling over shovel and puppet until she got a face full of carpet.

"What'd ya do wrong?" He asked, like he always did when she lost. He heard a muffled response. "What was that?" Jade lifted up her head.

"Never drop your weapon," she said, sounding dejected. Then, she turned to face him, giving him an apologetic grin. "Sorry, Bro! I sort of forgot!"

"Don't forget again," was all he said in response. He grabbed his suitcase. "I'll be back tonight. Do your homework." She nodded, looking a little dejected. As he walked to the door, though, he heard her speak again.

"Have a good day, Bro. Love ya." Those last two words still managed to choke him up somehow. What kind of man was he, to get worked up over that?

"Yeah," he said in response. He opened the door, then paused. "Maybe we'll watch one of your shitty movies tonight."

"Oh, great! I'll find the perfect one, just you wait!" It didn't take much to get her excited again. Smiling to himself, he walked out the door.

That day at lunch, he found that gummy worms had worked their way onto his sandwich. They didn't go very well with ham and mustard.

---

He still couldn't believe she was already thirteen. It was impossible, as impossible as the fact that he himself was thirty-one. But both were true, and time was running out.

She still wasn't the best fighter. He'd been rougher on her recently, trying to use the last of the time they had training. Soon she'd be on her own. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he did. Soon she wouldn't have him to depend on.

The thought made his heart ache. He didn't want to lose his little sis.

He walked in the door, those thoughts heavy on his mind. He'd just set down his briefcase when he heard her bedroom door slam.

"Why didn't you tell me!?" She yelled from across the kitchen.

"Tell you what?" He asked, sounding more irate than he'd meant to.

"This, asshole!" A wadded up piece of paper hit him in the side of the head, bouncing off and landing on the kitchen table. He picked it up, uncrumpled it. It was one of her drawings.

"What about it?" He asked. It didn't look any different than they normally did.

"Why didn't you tell me I was drawing puppets?" The tone of her voice made him finally look at her. Tears streamed down her face and her blue eyes were red and puffy, like she'd been crying for a while.

"You didn't know?" He asked, quietly, looking back down at the paper. He thought it was odd, at first, but he didn't say anything. He thought it was just another way to get back at him for all the strifes and the teasing. Just like the pranks. He thought maybe she was finally trying to develop a sense of irony.

"I thought I was drawing plants!" She managed to gasp through sobs. "There's something wrong with me!"

"Jade, look," he began, "it'll be—"

"Don't! Don't you dare start patronizing me!" She choked out. "You did this! You and your goddamn puppets! I... I don't even want to see you right now! I've had it! With everything!" She stormed out of the room, before he could even say anything else. He almost started after her, but he was too shocked. She said one last thing before she slammed her bedroom door closed.

"I HATE YOU!"

He didn't remember moving from the kitchen to the living room, but suddenly he was sitting down heavily on the couch. Her words echoed in his head over and over again.

He'd tried. Tried so hard to give her everything. To make sure she was ready. The one thing he'd done that hadn't been entirely towards that end was what screwed her up.

He didn't understand her. He loved her, but he could never understand her, understand what bothered her and what didn't. In her own way, she was just like him. Bottling everything up inside until she finally exploded. But while he just put on his sunglasses, she smiled, pretended everything was okay. Maybe she'd thought everything was okay, too.

He had to talk to her. He couldn't leave things like this. He'd do his best to understand. To take off his mask and be the brother she needed right now.

Because she had things to do. And it was his job to prepare her. Making her crazy wasn't preparing her.

He waited an hour before knocking on her bedroom door.

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If you didn't catch it, the kids in this AU are both different colors AND raised by different guardians. I'm roleplaying as blue!Jade raised by Bro, but I wanted to write a fic to get a little more into her character. Or, what I interpret as her character. I feel like there's still too much Jade and not enough John, but I'm working on it.

The other sort of head canon that I had for this was that the guardians take on some of the personality of their counterpart, too. Bro is still mostly Bro, but there's a recognizable bit of Dad in him, too. Or maybe this is just all Bro? I'll let you decide. xD But the kids still live in the same place as their colors, hence Bro being in suburbia and living in a house, rather than an apartment, and having a desk job. Ironically, of course.

And the last bit about the puppets is from a conversation Jade had with purple!John(MSB), when she sent him some of her drawings.

EDIT: Whoa, page topper!

S-so... so cute... 8D
Bro's characterization in this was really great, and my heart broke a little when Jade said she hated him. (It's not true! She's too nice to hate you! (>;_;)>) I also liked the idea that the Guardianship was something that was just ingrained in Bro (and, theoretically, all of the guardians), which kinda makes them all taking the kids home make more sense, really.

I like the foreshadowing of the puppet doodles, and all the little vignettes of her growing up with Bro (strife with Cal and the sunglasses-fail being my particular favorites), and you made the AU seem pretty believable.

tl;dr: It was adorable and I really enjoyed it. Stop making me want to write fic of my Rose!

[wilySubversionist]

Hey, wilySubversionist, how would you feel about my doing a lyric rewrite of "Walking Far From Home" (the song, I mean)? There appear to be twelve verses, so I was thinking it might be fun to have a different troll sing each one.
Of course, since you like the song, I figure it's entirely possible that you might want to do a lyric rewrite yourself, which is why I'm asking.

Oh, damn, go for it! I had no plans for that at all (not a very good poet) and it sounds awesome! I'd love to see it.

[A Fan]

And now for a Scratch fic. That is also, to a minor degree, a Scratch fic. Enjoy.

Scratching Post

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Rose hesitated for one final moment. Rather than the life-risking gamble she had assumed, acquiring the Quills of Echidna had been almost disappointingly easy. After the mysterious and, shudder, avuncular Doc Scratch ended their correspondence, a shooting star had appeared in LOHAC's sky. Curious and desperate for both an omen and an excuse to stall, Rose had sought it out. With her speed and experience with magical flight, she was able to intercept the projectile before it was lost to the planet's ubiquitous lava oceans.
It was, much to the girl's surprise, a plush bunny. The pink-and-purple striped patching on some areas and the timeworn, tar-stained original fabric marked it as the plaything of her youth that she had refurbished and sent to John for his birthday. The robotics, however, were new.
Rose almost dropped the thing as it turned to face her. A dispassionate cybernetic eye considered her for a moment, and then the lycra-and-logic-board lapine reached into the assembly of armaments on its back, produced what appeared to be two pieces of petrified lightning, and offered them to her. She accepted them reverentially, able to feel their power before she even held them, and flew back to the Beat Mesa with robunny in tow.
That brought the Seer of Light back to the current moment. Poised above the Mesa, which was flying over the molten surface of the Land of Heat and Clockwork like the emblem on a cosmic-scale version of Dave's shirt, and savoring her last few moments of existence. Oh, Rose Lalonde would still be there after the Scratch, or at least something resembling her, but the specific sybil who hovered over this giant reset button would cease to be even more totally than the doomed dreamself who had fused with her.
She briefly considered the Quills, sized for a stuffed rabbit, almost comically small in her hands. This might not work with a gun. Certainly not with a sword or a hammer. But magic didn't care about size. It just increased that critical measure of shit blown per cubic millimeter. And, thought Rose, as she pointed one Quill to the sky and began calling its awesome majjyks, shit would most definitely be blown today.
The invocation was quickly ruined by an incessant alert from her Hubtopband. Rose smiled to herself. One final goodbye, all snark discarded, all pretensions put to rest? Why not? Then she saw who was messaging her.

--tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering herself [TT]--
TT: Hi rose!
TT: Jaspers?
TT: I'm a cat on the internet! :3
TT: So you are. I suppose we'll have to get you a cheeseburger.
TT: That would be nice but it's not why i wanted to talk to you.
TT: Oh?
TT: I just finished talking to a nice girl!
TT: Her name is nepeta!
TT: Ah. arsenicCatnip.
TT: Yes. She had a cat too!
TT: But it also died. :(
TT: I see.
TT: But she liked talking to me so much she gave me a present to give to you!
TT: And what manner of present is this?
TT: She gave me captcha codes!
TT: Ah. I appreciate the gesture, but alchemy won't help us now.
TT: Rose i know you are trying to cause a scratch.
TT: I'm just a cat but cats know all about scratching.
TT: These codes will help you scratch the scratch even better than your new needles!
TT: Really?
TT: Oh yes!
TT: The part of me that isn't your cat doesn't think this is important.
TT: But the part that is does.
TT: Even more important than playing the rain!
TT: Well, with import of such magnitude, how can I say no?
TT: What are the codes?
TT: They are runLogan and Bluclaws
TT: How... straightforward.
TT: Thank you, Jaspers.
TT: Good luck rose!
TT: I hope i will still get to be your cat!
TT: As do I.
--tentacleTherapist stopped pestering herself--

For a moment, Rose considered simply causing the Scratch there and then. But she remembered her vow to buck the system Sburb had imposed on her at every opportunity, and this would probably be the last. Why give this accursed game the satisfaction of quitting in the matter it wanted her to? Thus decided, she flew for the tower she had made of Dave's home, opening a new Pesterchum window along the way.

--tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG]--
TG: sup
TT: Dave, at some point in the Gordian knot of your personal timeline,
TT: I'm going to need you to torrent me your Grist.
TG: you got it
TG: dont know what you think you can make thatll help though
TG: how much
TT: If I am correct, I will require the entire contents of your Cache,
TT: and possibly those of the others as well.
TG: so
TG: what youre saying is
TT: Yes.
TT: I need all the Grist.
TT: All of it.
TG: making it hapen
--tentacleTherapist stopped pestering turntechGodhead--

The "Bluclaws" were, appropriately enough, a set of blue, wrist-mounted claws that the Alchemy Excursus dubbed the Fluorite Sextet. The "runLogan" code produced, for a not inconsiderable amount of Grist, the appropriate Strife Specibus with which such implements could be wielded. This was determined through Holopad use, and from it, Rose understood. The Specibus was produced immediately, but further experimentation would be needed for the actual claws.
The && combination produced a pair of needles with a white/blue pattern and general opalescence reminiscent of the girl's own Land. But her gut told her that these weren't right, and for once, she listened to it. The || offered what looked to be white boxing gloves, each with a sun emblem and three Quills of Echidna projecting from the carpals. As the Seer had foseen, they required very nearly all the Grist all four adolescents had managed to collect, even, to her surprise, the millions of Artifact Grist produced by Dave's SBaHJery.
The scene was once again set, but now the Seer of Light physically stood atop the Beat Mesa, standing by the katana of Dave's fallen Bro. Loosened temporal energy licked at the blade like time-reversed fire, polishing steel and renewing leather. On each hand, Rose bore one of the Echidnuckles, the sigil of Light proudly displayed on each. She crouched, the tips of her reproduced Quills just touching the flying platform. And then, she began to run.
As she'd expected, barely after she'd taken her first step, she was being pestered.

What do you think you're doing?
TT: That's a very odd question coming from an omniscient being.
Oh, I know the answer. I just wanted to hear what you think it is.
TT: Do you not also know that?
Of course I do.
And believe me, the two could hardly be any further from one another.
TT: What was that you were telling me about confirming my sources?
Do you want me to explain how this amusing variant on the garden-variety Scratch will actually work, or would you like to just see what happens?
TT: I think I've figured it out quite nicely, thank you.
Oh?
And what makes you think that?
TT: You've described yourself as a prankster, have you not?
When the mood strikes me. What of it?
TT: Have you taken a look at your Gambit recently?
My dear, by my nature, I have transcended the crude metrics you believe to be an intrinsic part of life.
And, in any case, even if I did have a Prankster Gambit, it would've long ago been overwhelmed by the sheer volume of Japetics in my favor.
TT: I ask because mine appears to have made a small error
TT: It has awarded me three tics.
TT: A pittance to a genteel, charismatic, otherworldly gentleman such as yourself, of course,
TT: but if I recall correctly, it is the customary reward for anticipating and avoiding another's prank before it happens.
...
Drat.
TT: "I'll make you a Seer yet."
I realize this advice might be coming a bit late, but mocking the gods and their superiors is a dangerous thing to make into a habit.
TT: Well, it's a good thing I don't have much time left, isn't it?
True enough.
And, since you're nearly finished in this delightful little gesture of rebellion, allow me to say to you what I have said to very, very few people over a very, very long life:
You got me.

As Rose reached the other end of the Mesa, six parallel scratches behind her erupting with power unimaginable, she smiled.
And, even as she ran straight off of the Mesa and repositioned herself into a textbook swan dive, even as the massive luminous shockwave of revisionism engulfed her, even as her eldritch patrons whispered their haunting analogues of well-wishes into her mind, she never lost that smile.

And, a moment in the future and hours in the past (but not many), six thirteen-year old boys, each of whom was only that day given the name John, entered the Medium. Three noble Heirs, of Space, of Time, and of Light. Three Heroes of Breath, a Knight, a Seer, and a Mage. Six Lands, three of Wind and three of Shade, welcomed their princes. And six flighty broads charming young women named Rose felt a vague thrill of triumph that had nothing to do with just having saved a dear friend from meteoric doom.

[JudgeDeadd]

@A Fan, that was very enjoyable! Though I'm not sure what you meant by "lingham", and Google search results for that only terrify.

And for some reason "TT: I'm a cat on the internet! :3" made me smile more so than usual for me.

Also, "avuncular" is a cute word. I collect these.

[Graven_Image]

I would comment on the multisession that took place near the end, A Fan, but the Doconversation immediately preceding that was all kinds of amazing.

Please never stop.

[MyCurrentObsession]

Whoo, back with a Dave/John story. The title should explain most everything.

Dave and John: Play gay chicken.

show spoiler

hide spoiler

"You. Me. Gay chicken. Go."

You blink as Dave shoves a finger in your face, poking your cheek.

You are sixteen, and your good bro has come to spend two weeks with you at the start of summer vacation - unfortunately, he got out a few days before you, so he is forced to wait around at your house while you finish up those last few days of school.

By the way, you are currently standing on the steps outside the school, with about half an hour to go until class starts.

You are sixteen, and at that horribly awkward transitory period between boy and man, where you shoot up in height like a weed, and just when you begin to adjust to your new stature, you're suddenly taller again.

You are skinny as a twig, all the nutrition going towards your ever-towering gait. This new height has also graced you with a sort of clumsiness that you are certain you didn't have before. Honestly, you feel quite disproportionate; you never used to be so lanky. And your face... well, let's not go there.

"Gay what?"

...And, of course, your voice is deepening, which means that while it adjusts, it will inexplicably squeak at random intervals. So embarrassing.

Dave oh-so-kindly doesn't mention how your voice cracks, covering his snort of laughter with a well timed cough. Then, he proceeds to throw an arm over your shoulder, squeezing it disconcertingly.

He, of course, seems to have already gotten past the worst stages of puberty, standing just an inch or two shorter than you with subtle but definite strength and confidence. He is not clumsy in the slightest, and his complexion is perfect.

Lucky bastard.

Dave gives you an incredulous look - or at least, maybe; he's still wearing those famous shades of his, so in all honestly you have no idea what his eyes are expressing. His mouth is drawn in a slight frown, though.

"Dude, please tell me you know what gay chicken is."

He is distractingly close to you, but you shove the thought away and answer, "Uh... no?"

He says nothing for a few moments, simply staring at you in silent, unexpressed disbelief. Then finally, "Ugh... That's so lame, Egbert."

Dave then proceeds to spend the next fifteen minutes educating you on gay chicken, which is apparently some sort of fun new game that guys play to prove who is the manliest (therefore, Equius should always win, without contest, you think, mind going back to the trolls, to a time three years ago in a much different, higher risk game).

That part, you are totally on board with. It's a chance to out-cool (or at least out-manly) the resident coolkid, after all. But... It's just...

"So... you want me to flirt with you?"

Dave gives the impression of wanting to facepalm, but Rose has recently patented that action, so he simply shakes his head in disapproval instead. "No, I want you to pretend to flirt with me. You know, ironically. Get with the program, dude."

This is easily the most confounding game you've ever played. The theoretically simple rules seem to you like they'd be quite risky in all actuality, and your mind just stops working when Dave goes on to say:

"And it's not just flirting, dude. We're going hardcore, here. That means touching, kissing, ass-slapping, all that physical shit."

John: Protest.

After your brain is done exploding, you reply hysterically, "But, but how are we supposed to pretend to do that stuff?!"

He shrugs. "We'll get there when we get there."

To your horror, he brushes the back of his hand across your cheek in a way that can only be (ironically, just pretend) romantic. You backpedal to escape the gesture.

"Could you... could you not do that kind of thing, please?"

"It's kind of the whole point of the game, Egbert. Why the hell not?"

His reasoning is infuriatingly sound, and you flounder for a reason besides saying it makes you uncomfortable, knowing he'd think that's lame.

"Because... because people are watching!"

It had been the first feasible excuse to pop into your head, but a cursory glance tells you that it's true; more than a few of your classmates, some familiar, some not, have stopped to look on in varying levels of interest.

In particular, there is a gaggle of girls watching, and they are giggling far too knowingly.

Dave stares at you critically. "Jegus, Egbert, you're being such a fucking sissy about this."

The words sting, and you lower your head, mumble an apology.

A hand at your shoulder, and you blush as he leans in to whisper a curt apology of his own in your ear. The bell rings, and he sets off for what you call home, giving a lazy wave goodbye.

Somehow, you just know that your ear is bright red where his lips brushed it right before leaving.

You find, during the day, that not only do your classmates watch something that doesn't involve them with an absolutely astounding amount of apt interest, but that they talk. A lot.

The whole school knows about your new boyfriend by lunchtime, and the rumors... oh, god, the rumors...

They are best left forgotten. Let's leave it at that.

When you return home that day, you meekly but unrelentingly tell Dave to keep his gay chicken inside the closet with all his other games.

So, uh... I'm thinking of continuing this. When the idea popped into my mind, it went much further than here, but it just reads so good as a oneshot. I'll leave it at this unless people want more. In which case, I actually don't know where John lives, so could someone maybe tell me, please?

[Violet CLM]

Have you read Family Traditions?

[Beep]

Whoo, back with a Dave/John story. The title should explain most everything.

Dave and John: Play gay chicken.

show spoiler

hide spoiler

"You. Me. Gay chicken. Go."

You blink as Dave shoves a finger in your face, poking your cheek.

You are sixteen, and your good bro has come to spend two weeks with you at the start of summer vacation - unfortunately, he got out a few days before you, so he is forced to wait around at your house while you finish up those last few days of school.

By the way, you are currently standing on the steps outside the school, with about half an hour to go until class starts.

You are sixteen, and at that horribly awkward transitory period between boy and man, where you shoot up in height like a weed, and just when you begin to adjust to your new stature, you're suddenly taller again.

You are skinny as a twig, all the nutrition going towards your ever-towering gait. This new height has also graced you with a sort of clumsiness that you are certain you didn't have before. Honestly, you feel quite disproportionate; you never used to be so lanky. And your face... well, let's not go there.

"Gay what?"

...And, of course, your voice is deepening, which means that while it adjusts, it will inexplicably squeak at random intervals. So embarrassing.

Dave oh-so-kindly doesn't mention how your voice cracks, covering his snort of laughter with a well timed cough. Then, he proceeds to throw an arm over your shoulder, squeezing it disconcertingly.

He, of course, seems to have already gotten past the worst stages of puberty, standing just an inch or two shorter than you with subtle but definite strength and confidence. He is not clumsy in the slightest, and his complexion is perfect.

Lucky bastard.

Dave gives you an incredulous look - or at least, maybe; he's still wearing those famous shades of his, so in all honestly you have no idea what his eyes are expressing. His mouth is drawn in a slight frown, though.

"Dude, please tell me you know what gay chicken is."

He is distractingly close to you, but you shove the thought away and answer, "Uh... no?"

He says nothing for a few moments, simply staring at you in silent, unexpressed disbelief. Then finally, "Ugh... That's so lame, Egbert."

Dave then proceeds to spend the next fifteen minutes educating you on gay chicken, which is apparently some sort of fun new game that guys play to prove who is the manliest (therefore, Equius should always win, without contest, you think, mind going back to the trolls, to a time three years ago in a much different, higher risk game).

That part, you are totally on board with. It's a chance to out-cool (or at least out-manly) the resident coolkid, after all. But... It's just...

"So... you want me to flirt with you?"

Dave gives the impression of wanting to facepalm, but Rose has recently patented that action, so he simply shakes his head in disapproval instead. "No, I want you to pretend to flirt with me. You know, ironically. Get with the program, dude."

This is easily the most confounding game you've ever played. The theoretically simple rules seem to you like they'd be quite risky in all actuality, and your mind just stops working when Dave goes on to say:

"And it's not just flirting, dude. We're going hardcore, here. That means touching, kissing, ass-slapping, all that physical shit."

John: Protest.

After your brain is done exploding, you reply hysterically, "But, but how are we supposed to pretend to do that stuff?!"

He shrugs. "We'll get there when we get there."

To your horror, he brushes the back of his hand across your cheek in a way that can only be (ironically, just pretend) romantic. You backpedal to escape the gesture.

"Could you... could you not do that kind of thing, please?"

"It's kind of the whole point of the game, Egbert. Why the hell not?"

His reasoning is infuriatingly sound, and you flounder for a reason besides saying it makes you uncomfortable, knowing he'd think that's lame.

"Because... because people are watching!"

It had been the first feasible excuse to pop into your head, but a cursory glance tells you that it's true; more than a few of your classmates, some familiar, some not, have stopped to look on in varying levels of interest.

In particular, there is a gaggle of girls watching, and they are giggling far too knowingly.

Dave stares at you critically. "Jegus, Egbert, you're being such a fucking sissy about this."

The words sting, and you lower your head, mumble an apology.

A hand at your shoulder, and you blush as he leans in to whisper a curt apology of his own in your ear. The bell rings, and he sets off for what you call home, giving a lazy wave goodbye.

Somehow, you just know that your ear is bright red where his lips brushed it right before leaving.

You find, during the day, that not only do your classmates watch something that doesn't involve them with an absolutely astounding amount of apt interest, but that they talk. A lot.

The whole school knows about your new boyfriend by lunchtime, and the rumors... oh, god, the rumors...

They are best left forgotten. Let's leave it at that.

When you return home that day, you meekly but unrelentingly tell Dave to keep his gay chicken inside the closet with all his other games.

So, uh... I'm thinking of continuing this. When the idea popped into my mind, it went much further than here, but it just reads so good as a oneshot. I'll leave it at this unless people want more. In which case, I actually don't know where John lives, so could someone maybe tell me, please?

YOU BETTER CONTINUE THAT. PLEASE. PLEASE I WILL DRAW YOU ART JUST CONTINUE!

This is hilarious, awesome, and my OTP.

[spaceyPsychologist]

Whoo, back with a Dave/John story. The title should explain most everything.

Dave and John: Play gay chicken.

show spoiler

hide spoiler

"You. Me. Gay chicken. Go."

You blink as Dave shoves a finger in your face, poking your cheek.

You are sixteen, and your good bro has come to spend two weeks with you at the start of summer vacation - unfortunately, he got out a few days before you, so he is forced to wait around at your house while you finish up those last few days of school.

By the way, you are currently standing on the steps outside the school, with about half an hour to go until class starts.

You are sixteen, and at that horribly awkward transitory period between boy and man, where you shoot up in height like a weed, and just when you begin to adjust to your new stature, you're suddenly taller again.

You are skinny as a twig, all the nutrition going towards your ever-towering gait. This new height has also graced you with a sort of clumsiness that you are certain you didn't have before. Honestly, you feel quite disproportionate; you never used to be so lanky. And your face... well, let's not go there.

"Gay what?"

...And, of course, your voice is deepening, which means that while it adjusts, it will inexplicably squeak at random intervals. So embarrassing.

Dave oh-so-kindly doesn't mention how your voice cracks, covering his snort of laughter with a well timed cough. Then, he proceeds to throw an arm over your shoulder, squeezing it disconcertingly.

He, of course, seems to have already gotten past the worst stages of puberty, standing just an inch or two shorter than you with subtle but definite strength and confidence. He is not clumsy in the slightest, and his complexion is perfect.

Lucky bastard.

Dave gives you an incredulous look - or at least, maybe; he's still wearing those famous shades of his, so in all honestly you have no idea what his eyes are expressing. His mouth is drawn in a slight frown, though.

"Dude, please tell me you know what gay chicken is."

He is distractingly close to you, but you shove the thought away and answer, "Uh... no?"

He says nothing for a few moments, simply staring at you in silent, unexpressed disbelief. Then finally, "Ugh... That's so lame, Egbert."

Dave then proceeds to spend the next fifteen minutes educating you on gay chicken, which is apparently some sort of fun new game that guys play to prove who is the manliest (therefore, Equius should always win, without contest, you think, mind going back to the trolls, to a time three years ago in a much different, higher risk game).

That part, you are totally on board with. It's a chance to out-cool (or at least out-manly) the resident coolkid, after all. But... It's just...

"So... you want me to flirt with you?"

Dave gives the impression of wanting to facepalm, but Rose has recently patented that action, so he simply shakes his head in disapproval instead. "No, I want you to pretend to flirt with me. You know, ironically. Get with the program, dude."

This is easily the most confounding game you've ever played. The theoretically simple rules seem to you like they'd be quite risky in all actuality, and your mind just stops working when Dave goes on to say:

"And it's not just flirting, dude. We're going hardcore, here. That means touching, kissing, ass-slapping, all that physical shit."

John: Protest.

After your brain is done exploding, you reply hysterically, "But, but how are we supposed to pretend to do that stuff?!"

He shrugs. "We'll get there when we get there."

To your horror, he brushes the back of his hand across your cheek in a way that can only be (ironically, just pretend) romantic. You backpedal to escape the gesture.

"Could you... could you not do that kind of thing, please?"

"It's kind of the whole point of the game, Egbert. Why the hell not?"

His reasoning is infuriatingly sound, and you flounder for a reason besides saying it makes you uncomfortable, knowing he'd think that's lame.

"Because... because people are watching!"

It had been the first feasible excuse to pop into your head, but a cursory glance tells you that it's true; more than a few of your classmates, some familiar, some not, have stopped to look on in varying levels of interest.

In particular, there is a gaggle of girls watching, and they are giggling far too knowingly.

Dave stares at you critically. "Jegus, Egbert, you're being such a fucking sissy about this."

The words sting, and you lower your head, mumble an apology.

A hand at your shoulder, and you blush as he leans in to whisper a curt apology of his own in your ear. The bell rings, and he sets off for what you call home, giving a lazy wave goodbye.

Somehow, you just know that your ear is bright red where his lips brushed it right before leaving.

You find, during the day, that not only do your classmates watch something that doesn't involve them with an absolutely astounding amount of apt interest, but that they talk. A lot.

The whole school knows about your new boyfriend by lunchtime, and the rumors... oh, god, the rumors...

They are best left forgotten. Let's leave it at that.

When you return home that day, you meekly but unrelentingly tell Dave to keep his gay chicken inside the closet with all his other games.

So, uh... I'm thinking of continuing this. When the idea popped into my mind, it went much further than here, but it just reads so good as a oneshot. I'll leave it at this unless people want more. In which case, I actually don't know where John lives, so could someone maybe tell me, please?

Oh God. This is so good! PLEEEEASE continue this!

EDIT: John lives in Maple Valley, Washington.

[ceruleanTresses]

New installment of the Transhuman alt-session. This one takes place prior to the events of "Beautiful." Previous parts are in my sig.

Prism

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Rainbows

show spoiler

hide spoiler

. . .It took you days to reach the Land of Rays and Glass, even with only one other world in your way. To your disappointment, that world was not the Land of Sand and Haze. The Seer's land was nearly impossible to navigate; it lacked any consistent landmarks, and its very geometry seemed to shift at random. Even worse was the way strange ideas seemed to swirl in the mist, creeping into your head whenever you let your guard down.

. . .But when you see LoRaG for the first time, you know that it was all worth it. You're finally here, in the world that should have been yours all along. You practically fly down the ivory staircase to the planet's surface.

. . .The Maid's land glitters rainbow. Everything is made from glass, from the glittering mountains to the ground at your feet, and all of it is illuminated by rays of light that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. You kick at one of the transparent pebbles that litter the smooth ground, and watch as it refract the rays at the top of its arc, scattering many-colored light.

. . .You laugh. It's a child's laugh, a laugh of mingled wonder and joy. It's the kind of laugh that you haven't heard from yourself since the start of the game.

. . .You turn yourself white, hair and skin and eyes, and let the colors wash over you.

Repairs

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hide spoiler

. . .“Seriously, you are so lucky.”

. . .You've spent most of the day clearing out the imps around the Maid's house, while she hid in her closet. Camouflaging yourself in a world of ever-shifting colors was a challenge, and you screwed it up a couple of times, forcing you to fight a few imps normally in lieu of sneak attacks. Still, it was a welcome change from gradients of black and gray. You're glad that the imps dissolve into grist when they die, because the Maid can't bear the sight of corpses.

. . .But her home is safe now, and her hands are clean, and so she's as composed as she's ever been. The two of you are inside, you sitting in a chair with your bodysuit half off, while she fusses over you. You took a few scratches in one of the fights—nothing serious, but this brand of synthetic skin doesn't heal as quickly as the real thing—so she's doing what she can to repair the damage. Her hands move with practiced ease. You've never once seen them shake.

. . .“I mean, if I lived here,” you continue, “I'd never leave. I would just spend every day, like...frolicking.”

. . .“I don't know. From what you've told me, I might actually like your planet better.” Her voice is smooth, meticulous, and warm. She kneels down to patch up a wound on your calf. “It's sort of cliched coming from me, but LoRaG seems so lifeless sometimes.”

. . .You laugh. “And you think, what, that the Land of Gray and More Gray is livelier?”

. . .Without looking up from her work, she smiles. She keeps her lips closed, and you might think the expression was faked if you couldn't see the wrinkles around her eyes. “If nothing else, it has something of a biosphere. My planet may look beautiful, but yours is the one that supports a thriving population of frogs. There's nothing living here but the imps and my consorts.”

. . .“Oh yeah, I think I saw some of those guys! Tortoises, right? I like their shells. Very...prismy, if that's even a word.” You grin at her. “Hey, at least you didn't end up with freakin' chameleons like I did. Subtle, Sburb.”

. . .She turns to retrieve a tool you don't recognize, something delicate and sharp, and you catch a glimpse of the black plastic casing of the implant in her left ear. “The tortoises are pretty," she says, “but I don't see them often. It's not really safe for me to go outside alone. It's a shame, because all those temples seem pretty interesting.”

. . .She taps a fingernail on the chip at the base of your skull. “This is your integrator, right?”

. . .“Yeah.” The integrator is connected to all of your implants. It interprets and coordinates the mental signals you send, ensuring that each implant follows your instructions independently.

. . .“It could use a little work," she says. “Do you mind if I take a look at it?”

. . .“No problem. I really appreciate this, by the way.” You don't remember your integrator getting hit, but you trust that the Maid knows what she's talking about. The last thing you need is to start flashing orange and magenta while you're sneaking past a Giclops.

. . .“Don't worry about it," she says sincerely, and you can hear the smile in her voice. “I'm happy to help.”

Revelations

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. . .It's been three days. You're sitting on a couch in the living room, your back to the window, staring down at your hands. You've pulled the shades down, but the rays seep in around the edges, scattering rainbows on the walls.

. . .The Maid pokes her head into the room, her strawberry curls frizzy with the heat from the kitchen. “Hey,” she says. “I made pancakes, if you—”

. . .She falls silent when you don't look at her. A moment later she's sitting in the chair across from you, her brow furrowed with concern.

. . .“You don't seem happy,” she says. “What's the matter?”

. . .You try to keep looking down, but you find your eyes meeting hers anyway. The Maid, for all her poise, is the most engaging person you've ever known, and it's impossible to dissociate yourself from the fact of her presence.

. . .“I think I'm going back to LoSaF today," you tell her.

. . .She looks disappointed. “Why?”

. . .“It's...hard to explain,” you say, groping for the right words. “I guess it just...It's starting to feel like I don't belong anywhere.”

. . .“You're always welcome here," she reminds you, and you put up a silver hand to stop her.

. . .“That's not what I mean,” you hastily correct her. “You've been a great hostess and everything, it's not you at all.”

. . .She doesn't reply, just sits there with her bright green eyes locked on your blue ones, waiting for you to finish. You sigh. “It's hard to explain without sounding like a self-centered bitch, okay?”

. . .“You do remember I'm an immortalist?” she reminds you gently. “It doesn't get much more self-centered than that. I'm in no position to judge.”

. . .If she weren't so damn nice, you'd stop talking. If you didn't feel a connection with her, a strange kinship that neither of you can explain, you'd stop talking.

. . .“Okay...It's like, in LoSaF, I'm either cooped up inside, which I hate; or I'm hiding in the shadows, which I hate; or I'm outside just like, normally, but I might as well be hiding because I can't even see myself. Which I hate,” you clarify.

. . .She's nodding for you to go on, but you're not even paying attention to her cues because suddenly everything's just flooding out.

. . .“It's so dark there and it, it leeches you, it takes away all the colors until you're just as gray as everything else. It takes everything from you, and you feel like you're fading into nothing, like one day you'll just be part of the rocks.”

. . .As you're talking, you squint your eyes against a ray of light reflecting off the silver band around the Maid's left eye. She turns her head slightly to alleviate the glare.

. . .“And then I came here, and everything was so beautiful, and I was happy at first. But it's the same as before, only now instead of sucking me dry it outshines me. In LoSaF I couldn't see myself because it was dark, and now I can't see myself because it's so bright.

. . .“And maybe I sound like a superficial idiot, but I can't stand it. It terrifies me when I can't see my colors. I've tried everything, I've tried painting, and it helped for a little while but I just feel so...”

. . .You hear your voice crack, and you stop talking before you can start to cry.

. . .She gets up from her chair. For a moment you think she's going to leave, but instead she sits down beside you, putting an arm around your shoulder. You can feel the magnets under her finger pads, pressing against your skin.

. . .You don't lean into her, but you're glad she's there.

. . .“The game's been stressful on all of us,” she says quietly. “Did you know that I didn't leave my house for more than a day after I arrived in the Medium? I just hid in my bedroom and cried.”

. . .You remember that you didn't hear from her for hours. The Thief, her server player, assured you that she was alive and safe. He didn't mention the crying.

. . .“I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened. Knowing that the rest of humanity had been wiped out...” She looks down at her lap, her eyes distant. “I stayed on Earth for long enough to watch it die. I saw my city burning around me. Even after I escaped, I kept hearing the screams in my head.”

. . .You feel a twinge of guilt. Your own reaction to the apocalypse was considerably more subdued. You've been doing your best not to think about it, really.

. . .“What we've been through is horrible beyond description,” the Maid continues, her voice level. “We have to cope in whatever ways we can. And we have to help each other in whatever ways we can.

. . .“So, no, I don't think what you're feeling is superficial. You're just looking for something to hold onto. I hope that I've already helped you with that.”

. . .Wait. What the hell is she talking about?

. . .She turns her face toward you, wearing that warm, closed-lipped smile. “When I was working on your integrator the other day, I installed a little surprise for you. I was going to wait to tell you until you got back to LoSaF, but I think it might do you good to be able to look forward to it. Here—” She transfers a package of data to your comm.

. . .You recognize it as an activation pattern, compatible with your implants. Immediately, you send the signal to your integrator, but nothing happens. You raise an eyebrow at the Maid.

. . .“It won't show up here,” she explains. “You need to be somewhere dark.”

Radiant

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Open Commlog.

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-- luminousEccentric [LE] opened a channel with espritEternal [EE] --

LE: oh my god this is SO COOL!
EE: Hi! Are you back on LoSaF yet?
LE: this is so freaking AWESOME, you have NO IDEA
LE: I'm pretty much flipping out :D
EE: Is that a yes?
LE: THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!
EE: Glad you like it. :)
LE: this is going to freak my consorts right the hell out
LE: hahahahahahaha

-- luminousEccentric [LE] closed channel with espritEternal [EE] --

A/N

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I'm pretty sure I suck at dialogue, but I had fun with this anyway. The next one is probably going to involve the Thief making ectobabies, followed by a Knight/Maid-centric thing full of angst. Let's just say that the new revelation that God-tiers are basically immortal is a pretty big deal for the Maid.

I realized that I'd gotten mixed up about who was whose server player, so I made a minor alteration to the last fic. The Rogue's server player is the Seer, not the Knight.

[apocalypticCritic]

Whoo, back with a Dave/John story. The title should explain most everything.

Dave and John: Play gay chicken.

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"You. Me. Gay chicken. Go."

You blink as Dave shoves a finger in your face, poking your cheek.

You are sixteen, and your good bro has come to spend two weeks with you at the start of summer vacation - unfortunately, he got out a few days before you, so he is forced to wait around at your house while you finish up those last few days of school.

By the way, you are currently standing on the steps outside the school, with about half an hour to go until class starts.

You are sixteen, and at that horribly awkward transitory period between boy and man, where you shoot up in height like a weed, and just when you begin to adjust to your new stature, you're suddenly taller again.

You are skinny as a twig, all the nutrition going towards your ever-towering gait. This new height has also graced you with a sort of clumsiness that you are certain you didn't have before. Honestly, you feel quite disproportionate; you never used to be so lanky. And your face... well, let's not go there.

"Gay what?"

...And, of course, your voice is deepening, which means that while it adjusts, it will inexplicably squeak at random intervals. So embarrassing.

Dave oh-so-kindly doesn't mention how your voice cracks, covering his snort of laughter with a well timed cough. Then, he proceeds to throw an arm over your shoulder, squeezing it disconcertingly.

He, of course, seems to have already gotten past the worst stages of puberty, standing just an inch or two shorter than you with subtle but definite strength and confidence. He is not clumsy in the slightest, and his complexion is perfect.

Lucky bastard.

Dave gives you an incredulous look - or at least, maybe; he's still wearing those famous shades of his, so in all honestly you have no idea what his eyes are expressing. His mouth is drawn in a slight frown, though.

"Dude, please tell me you know what gay chicken is."

He is distractingly close to you, but you shove the thought away and answer, "Uh... no?"

He says nothing for a few moments, simply staring at you in silent, unexpressed disbelief. Then finally, "Ugh... That's so lame, Egbert."

Dave then proceeds to spend the next fifteen minutes educating you on gay chicken, which is apparently some sort of fun new game that guys play to prove who is the manliest (therefore, Equius should always win, without contest, you think, mind going back to the trolls, to a time three years ago in a much different, higher risk game).

That part, you are totally on board with. It's a chance to out-cool (or at least out-manly) the resident coolkid, after all. But... It's just...

"So... you want me to flirt with you?"

Dave gives the impression of wanting to facepalm, but Rose has recently patented that action, so he simply shakes his head in disapproval instead. "No, I want you to pretend to flirt with me. You know, ironically. Get with the program, dude."

This is easily the most confounding game you've ever played. The theoretically simple rules seem to you like they'd be quite risky in all actuality, and your mind just stops working when Dave goes on to say:

"And it's not just flirting, dude. We're going hardcore, here. That means touching, kissing, ass-slapping, all that physical shit."

John: Protest.

After your brain is done exploding, you reply hysterically, "But, but how are we supposed to pretend to do that stuff?!"

He shrugs. "We'll get there when we get there."

To your horror, he brushes the back of his hand across your cheek in a way that can only be (ironically, just pretend) romantic. You backpedal to escape the gesture.

"Could you... could you not do that kind of thing, please?"

"It's kind of the whole point of the game, Egbert. Why the hell not?"

His reasoning is infuriatingly sound, and you flounder for a reason besides saying it makes you uncomfortable, knowing he'd think that's lame.

"Because... because people are watching!"

It had been the first feasible excuse to pop into your head, but a cursory glance tells you that it's true; more than a few of your classmates, some familiar, some not, have stopped to look on in varying levels of interest.

In particular, there is a gaggle of girls watching, and they are giggling far too knowingly.

Dave stares at you critically. "Jegus, Egbert, you're being such a fucking sissy about this."

The words sting, and you lower your head, mumble an apology.

A hand at your shoulder, and you blush as he leans in to whisper a curt apology of his own in your ear. The bell rings, and he sets off for what you call home, giving a lazy wave goodbye.

Somehow, you just know that your ear is bright red where his lips brushed it right before leaving.

You find, during the day, that not only do your classmates watch something that doesn't involve them with an absolutely astounding amount of apt interest, but that they talk. A lot.

The whole school knows about your new boyfriend by lunchtime, and the rumors... oh, god, the rumors...

They are best left forgotten. Let's leave it at that.

When you return home that day, you meekly but unrelentingly tell Dave to keep his gay chicken inside the closet with all his other games.

So, uh... I'm thinking of continuing this. When the idea popped into my mind, it went much further than here, but it just reads so good as a oneshot. I'll leave it at this unless people want more. In which case, I actually don't know where John lives, so could someone maybe tell me, please?

I do this all the time. Playing gay chicken is fun.

But I have never gone to the stage of kissing. Well... except that one time. And the other time. And the other other time. But the first one was during Truth or Dare, and the other two were at the request of my then girlfriend.

Which is kinda fucked up, now I think about it.

But yeah, good fic, best crack!pairing.

[pimudragonfeline]

Liking the stories so far. @ceruleanTresses

Juts read through all of them. I love the no cheat sheet part.

[ceruleanTresses]

Aww, thanks so much, pimudragonfeline! The Thief is a lot of fun to work with because he's so dependent on his mindreading. All I have to do is put him in a situation where it does him no good, and he immediately flips out.

[DJ-P0N3]

I'll leave this here
for the fanfic god
whom hungers, because I never feed the poor bastard.

Scratched

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-- tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] --
TT: Dave, I can see you upon the Beat Mesa.
TT: So I would like to know why you are hesitating to do what I asked you to.
TT: Dave?
TG: what
TT: Will you answer my question?
TG: ask your cueball headed creepy uncle
TT: Is something bothering you Dave?
TT: I am feeling a great sense of hostility that may be stemming from a bad place. I would like to nip that in the bud before it gets out of hand.
TG: dont you already know
TT: In a way, yes I do.
TT: Though I would prefer confirmation from you Dave.
TG: stop calling me dave
TG: just stop saying my name so much
TT: Why?
TG: do i really have to answer
TT: Yes.
TG: because i might as well be timeline 100 and fucking 1
TG: i dont even know which me i am
TT: That bothers you?
TG: i am a slave to time rose dont you get that
TG: i only know what to do or where to go because i have already done it or know i do it
TG: where the fuck is my free will when i know what i am going to do
TT: You could always make your own decisions Dave.
TT: Sometimes the true timeline, the Alpha timeline, may stem from you refusing to do what you already did.
TG: but thats just it rose
TG: even then its like i know i wont do it
TG: i could go back in time right now and fight jack
TG: i could go back and kill him before he even gets the ring but i wont
TG: know why
TT: Because you know you don't because that is not the case in our timeline.
TG: exactly
TG: time is different to me
TG: you see it go forward and backward
TG: thats the best you can understand of this even if you are the fucking seer of light
TG: to me time is a constant
TG: its predetermined just as it is free formed
TG: and within itself is a god damn paradox
TG: i do what i do because of what i know i will do
TG: what i wont do
TG: and what i am told to do
TT: Told to do?
TT: You are referring to my commands that you have followed, correct?
TT: But by the sounds of it you are also referring to others, who else has told you to do anything?
TG: myself
TT: Pardon?
TG: i have told myself what to do only because i told me what to do before
TG: i have notes rose
TG: notes covered in things i have instructed myself to do
TT: That is unsettling to say the least Dave, but you should, as you might put it, 'chill'.
TG: no
TG: i am going to stay here and do nothing
TG: be a useless shit all day and do fucking nothing
TT: Dave, you really shouldn't choose now as the time to rebel against the time that has wrapped you around its finger. I can see Jack on his way, if we do not hurry things along it is distinctly possible he will kill us both and we will become a doomed timeline. Please, do it.
TG: no
TT: Dave, I am not liking your new attitude.
TT: Scratch the Beat Mesa.
TT: Reset the game.
TT: Please!
TG: sorry rose
TG: i wont do it
TT: Because you know you do, right?
TT: This is all one final effort to try and prove you have free will. Some sort of chance to take a risk that will inevitably show us all just how much control you really have over your situation.
TT: I would clap if I wasn't terrified of what could happen.
TT: Now stop your teenage angst 'row row fight the power' bullshit and cause the scratch!
TG: no
TT: God dammit Dave!
TT: Why not?!
TG: because
TG: i know i dont scratch it rose
TG: isnt that obvious
TT: Oh god what.
TT: This is a joke, right Dave?
TT: Just a really bad joke that I will hold against you as I wallop you upside the head with my fist as soon as I get the chance, right?
TT: Dave?
TT: Oh god Dave come on I can see you waving at me.
TT: I can also see Jack.
TT: Please.
TT: Please please please please please.
TT: Cause the scratch!
TG: no B)
TT: ...
TT: I hate you Dave.
TT: You have doomed us both.
TT: I hope in an alternate timeline I get back at you for this.
-- tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] --

Dave watched Rose proceed to flip her lid. She was scared shitless because this wasn’t what she had expected to happen. That was the problem with Rose though, she expected things to fall into place just like she wanted them to. Dave turned away and gripped the Caledscratch firmly in his hand. Overhead loomed Jack, whom had perhaps now taken the name of ‘The Demon’. He wasn’t too sure, Jack had gained so many titles he stopped trying to remember them and just referred to him as Jack, like the others.

As Dave looked up to take a good look at his omnipotent aggressor, he was forced to look down again for as soon as he did look skaiaward, Jack landed down onto the Beat Mesa. The two of them struck a fighting stance, both readied to take their foe out.

“Its ironic, isn’t it?” Dave spoke aloud, a rhetorical question escaped his lips. “You fought my Bro here, and now you’ll fight me here, right?”

Jack blinked, he had not thought about it, “Yes…yes it seems like it could be.” He did not want to converse with just another graveyard stuffer, not for an extended period of time at least.

“So how does this play out? Do we fight it out till one of us just dies, or do we have a tie…” Dave paused in his speech, “…or do I just give up.” He tossed the Caledscratch down. Jack raised an eyebrow, confused.

He inquired, “Giving up? You’re making this a lot less fun, and a lot more boring.” Jack’s question quickly became a statement.

“Even if I tried to beat you, all you would need to do is….well…no, I shouldn’t say.” Dave shrugged and rolled his eyes, he figured it best to keep this secret.

“What? Tell me! No secrets!” Jack barred his teeth, if there was something he wasn’t aware of, it had to be BIG.

“What you’re standing on is well….damn…its pretty fucking big.” Dave bluntly stated, “This thing is like, the end of the world in a can.”

Jack looked surprised, was such a thing possible? Even with his green sun powers it seemed like destruction of everything was outside his grasp. He had to know more, “Tell me, tell me how I do it or else I will chew out your throat!”

“Alright alright!” Dave stuttered, he began to sweat, “Just slice this thing right across and it should do the trick.” Dave stepped back, nearly tripping on the Caledcratch he had tossed onto the Beat Mesa. “But I would REALLY like to keep living, y’know?”

Jack looked at the Beat Mesa, then to Dave, he swapped his glare back and forth between the two before he grabbed Dave by the collar and growled in his face, “I want you to sit and watch, I want you to see your terror as I destroy everything.” He tossed Dave down onto his back. He unsheathed the sword that lay stuck within his chest, and proceeded to cut the Beat Mesa in two, right across. Dave then messaged Rose.

Show pesterlog

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-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] --
TG: there
TG: happy
TT: Sorry Dave, I can't hear you over the sound of my unbrittled fury.
TT: Me and the good doctor are trying to find a solution to this mess you caused.
TG: turn around
TT: Why?
TG: flip your head turnways and look at the beat mesa again
TT: Is Jack?
TT: Why is Jack scratching the Beat Mesa?
TT: Dave...did you?
TG: told you i didnt cause it rose
TG: i dont like it
TG: i dont like being a god damn slave to all this time bullshit
TG: but i had this planned as soon as that chat started
TT: So you played me for a fool?
TG: ironically
TT: How is that ironic, even slightly?
TG: haa haa hee hee hoo hoo
TT: Very funny Dave, you and Doc Scratch could both be very successful comedians.
TG: maybe in the new universe i will be
TT: ...Maybe.
TG: good bye rose
TT: Farewell Dave.
-- turntechGodhead [TG] and tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased existing --

[Doodled]

ALERT! ALERT! COMMENT-DUNP AHEAD!

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Hi, fanfiction thread. This is my first post here. C:

I wrote up a little fic earlier and I wanted to share it.

Power

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Enjoy! Please feel free to correct any mistakes I made.

I lol'd.

Several times.

More promptfic:

Jade Harley / Tavros Nitram
Spider

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awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww...

I'm pretty sure I remember seeing at least one version of this conversation, and also that this will be rendered contrary to canon soon enough. But it took about two hundred prompts to get these characters to line up, and I'm not wasting that effort.

Aradia Megido / Equius Zahhak
Dreams

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This is beautiful.

And hilarious.

Spades Slick / Jack Noir

Dance contest.

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Originally prompt said belly dancing, but I changed it to break dancing, then changed it halfway through to just this.

AH, HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Crossover time! See if you can guess who it is before you hit the catchphrase that makes it blindingly obvious.


Player Versus Player

Simply marvelous!

Mind Your Manners

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A/N

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SO yeah this will never happen. But the idead just got in my head and I couldn't get it out. I always think of CD as being adorable, even when exploding things, so when he eventually does something heartless all my hopes and dreams will be crushed. Oh well. Hope I got Jade well enough.

Also, Nice, Graven, never played Earthbound but I have played SSB

I don't oft read fictions typed like this...

But I'm DAMN glad I did this time!

Very, very good!

Restart, part 1 of ?

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*applause*

@Kawa: I hope you keep writing Restart because it looks really interesting so far!

Here's some Striders and stuff.

Blackout

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O_O

That's...

...

Wow.

So everyone, since the reaction to the first part was so enthusiastic, here's chapter two. I hope it's as good as the first one! Constructive criticism appreciated, of course

What It Takes
Chapter 2

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A/N

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Okay, writing Vriska's typing quirk is a huge pain. I am absolutely sure that I missed plenty of 8's, so if anyone wants to point them out to me (via PM), that would be awesome.

Secondly, I know it would be better if the pesterlogs had the proper formatting, but I just don't have time for that. I'm writing this instead of doing a giant project that is due very soon and is a huge part of my grade

D'awwwwwwwwww...

I love this.

Very much.

Generator Prompt:
Vodka Mutini (Mutie) / Rose Lalonde
Pedicure
Constructive Critiques welcome:

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Short, but oh so sweet...

Morning

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Nice.

So. I made a thing. It has a pretentious Latin title and everything! And hopefully it will lead to future things with the same pretentious Latin title as well! Although knowing my rate of posting in this thread, it'll probably be page 60-something when I post the next part.

Sanguino Deos

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AN: Yes, I did just do a title drop across languages. Also, the title means "The Gods Bleed" in Latin, or at least that's what my friend told me. If anyone thinks it incorrect, just tell me.

o_O

Whoa.

A-very nice!

Thanks, ProspitDreamer!

Also, I took you and Jim up on your advice and rewrote the ending. Now let's all just pretend we don't know what the rest of the trolls are up to.

Easily done. Though before I forget everything you wrote, I did want to point out that there were actually two trolls missing from your list- both Feferi and Eridan. Since it's obvious which one it is that Rose hates, the wherabouts of the princess are still a mystery to everyone. Which is awesome.

Okay, well apparently when I wake up now the first thing I do is write fanfiction. What have I become?

What It Takes
Chapter 3

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awwwwww...

So I spent a few days on a whim writing a pesterlog because I wanted to explore the concept of dream bubbles. That's fine, I've done this sort of thing twice before. Except this one is needlessly long. Like 18 pages in Word at font size 9 long. I actually had to manually remove some of the automatic color tags to even post this.

Spoiler'd for hueg, is what I am saying here.

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As far as long pesterlogs go...

Heck, as long as any fan-fiction goes, that was just plain schweet!

Short Rose Fic Thing:

Loneliness

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Bluh.

Not exactly the best thing I've ever done but I figured I'd post it up here anyway.

Also, there's a gag in the word count here, didn't even realise that until I was done.

After Action Report

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The trolls playing a generic (*cough cough* Civilization *cough cough*) country-strategy game?

...

I'm sorry, but I am in absolute love with this idea...

I need to go back and read gaaaah -has been lazy the last few days-

Anyway, have some more Wizardstuck.

Wizardstuck: Libraryquest

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I haven't written much from Rose's point of view at all, so I'm sort of experimenting with it. Constructive criticism is certainly welcome, because I really like her character and I don't want to write it badly. :[

Wizardstuck

I bring you an altblood fic. Of a sort.

Terminally Capricious

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O_O

This is genius.

And that's all there really is to say on the matter.

Scratch

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*applause*

Restart, part 2 of ?

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DAT ending

is just...

COLORS: Chapter 5

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These alt-universe fics...

THEY MAKIN' ME CRAAAAAAAAAZEEEEEEEEEEEEEH....

Seriously, though... Lightly-swearing Karkat...

*shakes head*

That's just...

Déjà vu

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I don't quite understand the endi-

*re-reads*

O_O

Oh...

Oh wow...

Oh wow that is...

Horrifying.

*Shyly enters a fanfic thread for the first time, offering up some bloodswap AU pesterlogs*

If any1curr after reading that, here is a spreadsheet with a lot of the basics of the AU (and links to art and stuff).

I would post the pesters all up in here but uuuugh I already did all the coding in HTML I don't want to do them again in forumcodes. >.<


EDIT: Since people seemed to like terrifying!TZ I did some terrible voice acting of her and dave :V

*wild applause*

Okay, so. Way behind in reading so I'm being a jackass who doesn't comment enough on all the good things going on, but I've got this new thing here (Warning, this is BEEFY):

Walking Far from Home
(ii)

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This is really, really good writing!

Okay, sorry for the delay on this but well, I had a hard time with it. Sorry if it's terrible; but it refuses to come out the way I want so...


What It Takes
Chapter 4

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A/N

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Sorry if the plot dragged through there. Now that I have introductions out of the way, things should actually pick up very quickly. Also I'll apologize again for terribleness.

All this stuff with the trolls talking weirdly is...

really intriguing.

Another Crew

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Rose Lalonde watched from atop the Beat Mesa as her friends arrived. They'd talked about what they were going to do already, and everyone, even Jade agreed it was the only thing they could do. Knowing that just made things feel worse.

"You have no idea how long it took us to get these needles." Dave said. "And that Echidna was a bitch to beat."

"Oh, you're just sore she tore your favorite suit apart Dave." John said. He was holding Echidna's quills in his arms. "I sure hope this works."

"We're really going through with this, aren't we?" Jade said, frowning. "We're all going to disappear forever."

"It's the only way." Rose said solemnly. "Dave, are you ready?"

The Knight of Time took one of the quills from John. "There's no turning back now."

"So, what do you think our lives would be like once we start the scratch?" John walked towards the crack on the mesa Bro created during his fight with Jack.

"We'll still be friends obviously! There's no way that'll change!" Jade answered, trying to put as much cheer in her words as she could, but it sounded hollow. Tears were streaming from her face.

"We can only hope that would be the case." Rose said as she and Jade walked to the crack.

Dave took off his sunglasses as he walked towards the crack, the quill in his hand. He was trying hard to keep his cool, but in the face of utter destruction there was no point. "It's...been great knowing you guys."

"Yes, it's been a pleasure being friends with you three." Rose said sadly.

Jade couldn't stop crying. She gave her friends a hug, words escaping her.

"We'll be friends forever guys, always." John held his paradox sister's hand and nodded to Dave.

Without a word Dave dragged the quills through the diameter of the beat mesa, and once the task was complete returned to the side of his friends. As light engulfed the universe and reality rewinded the 4 kids held each other's hands, content with facing oblivion as long as they were at each other's side.


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In another time, in another universe, a detective in a trench coat ran through the dark alleys of the city's red light district. Closing in on the detective were a pair of assassins in suits, one with a heart sewn on the coat pocket and the other with a club symbol on the hat.

The city's top Problem Sleuth has just found out a terrible secret that could upset the balance of power in the city. If the Midnight Crew, the most powerful gang in the city found out about it they'll be able to rule the city with an iron fist. Problem is, they were pretty smart. You had to be if you wanted to thrive in a city like this. No sooner had Sleuth found out about this secret that the Crew had its best killers after the best detective in the city. And they were getting real close.

Sleuth jumped over a bunch of boxes and climbed over a brick wall. It was difficult, but Sleuth knew there was no way the Crew's cronies could go through that wall. Nothing, unless of course one of the killers after the secret had a grenade rifl-

BANG

Gogdamnit. Of course Clubs Deuce would carry around firepower like that. Aside from being real good with heavy weapons Clubs Deuce wasn't that very useful to the Midnight Crew, but it was all Deuce needed to be one of its best members.

Sleuth ducked into an alley that was both a dead end and had a wall too high to jump over. It seemed to Heart Boxcars, Deuce's partner and the big guy of the crew, that they had they had Sleuth trapped. The boss wanted Sleuth alive so they couldn't just pepper the detective with bullets now, so they had no choice but to leave Sleuth only partially dead instead of completely. Boxcars walked towards Sleuth, fists balled up to begin beating on the detective when a flash grenade exploded, stunning Boxcars and Deuce.

The gambit worked. Sleuth wasn't expecting the grenade to explode that early, but it looked like Lady Luck was on the detective's side. Sleuth ran past Boxcars and Deuce, headed into a practical labyrinth of alleyways to throw the Midnight crew off and entered a safehouse Pickle Inspector loaned to Sleuth, where Diamonds Droog and Spades Slick were waiting with their weapons raised.

Lady Luck was so fickle.

"Surrender Sleuth." Droog said. "There's no way you're leaving this delapitated apartment alive."

"You ain't scaring me, Droog." Sleuth lied, because Droog packed way more firepower than Deuce did and in a smaller package to boot. "I got the information you and your crew need to rule this city, and I got back-up coming here any moment. I got all aces in my hand Droog, all of them."

"I can see through your bluff Sleuth. Tell us what we need to know and you might get out of this alive." Droog aimed a really dangerous weapon at Sleuth's head. At least it'll take only one shot to remove a lot of weight on Sleuth's shoulders.

"You wouldn't." Sleuth drew a weapon from a coat pocket. It wasn't as dangerous as the thing Droog had aimed on Sleuth's forehead, but if Lady Luck changed her mind the tables would surely turn. "You know what I got in my pockets, Droog. If I go down, I can guarrantee you ain't going to escape this alive."

It was a classic mexican stand-off. First guy who moves is dead. There was no way for either of them to break the deadlock, unless a third party intervened. Which was what Spades Slick just did.

Before Sleuth could react Slick ran towards the detective and brought down his hammer. Sleuth collapsed, the sheer force of the blow knocking the detective unconcious. "Haha, I guess Sleuth didn't see that coming, eh, Droog?" Slick grinned, and his smile was like the one you saw when a shark was about to drag you into the deeps.

"Took you long enough." Droog said with disdain. It was irritating, the way Slick treated their whole operation like an elaborate joke but he got the job done and he was pretty good leader to boot. "One more second and I would've blasted Sleuth's head off."

"Aw, you wouldn't do that, Droog. Haha, the look on Sleuth's face when I smacked her with my hammer is priceless. This just isn't her lucky day." Slick smashed an old sewing machine lying around the safehouse accumulating dust and gave a laugh.

Diamonds Droog sighed wearily as she slid her needle wand into her pocket. This operation could've been much quicker if they grabbed Sleuth as soon as she got the info, but no, that wouldn't have been fun.

Later Clubs Deuce and Hearts Boxcars arrived, arguing. They were both discussing whose fault it was that Problem Sleuth escaped, until they saw her tied up and still unconcious from Slick's sneak attack.

"See, if you didn't take my fucking glasses we would've caught that bitch." Boxcars grumbled as he put on those ridiculously cool glasses of his.

"I already said I'm sorry, Boxcars! It isn't my fault you have the coolest glasses in the history of coolsville." Deuce squealed as she casually reloaded her grenade rifle. "And besides we at least got to see a lot of pretty lights while we regained our vision!"

Boxcars was about to say something when Droog intervened. "Just as well. Slick knew where Problem Sleuth was headed anyway. It was a win-win situation. But next time don't do anything stupid like falling for such an obvious trap." She glared at Clubs Deuce, who was looking down on her shoes, and Hearts Boxcars, who was trying to ignore his irritation.

"Hey now, what's with the angry faces!?" Slick appeared behind Deuce and Boxcars, putting a friendly arm on both of them. "What's important is that we got her. If you guys are still feeling that you didn't do much, why don't we take it out on Problem Sleuth!?"

"I could go for some Sleuth beat downs." Boxcars said.

"Yay! We're friends again!" Deuce grabbed Boxcars' arm and skipped towards Sleuth's body.

"Gotta say boss." Droog said out loud over the sound of herself, Clubs Deuce, Spades Slick and Hearts Boxcars kicking Problem Sleuth in the gut. "Moments like these makes putting up with your shenanigans worth it."

"What can I say." Slick sent a pretty hard kick to Sleuth's back. "I know what my friends want."

A/N

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I had a lot of fun with this one, but I think the chase scene could use some work.

EDIT; Just changed a sentence that seemed a bit awkward to me.

This took forever for me to get.

When I did...

DEAR LAWD THIS IS GREAT!

So many good things lately. Never stop being awesome, guys. Never.

Anyway, here's some alt!kid fic. The idea is actually MayorSillyBiscuits', as it's from his AU roleplay, but I've taken over Jade's part.

My Little Sis

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Smoke billowed up from the crater, obscuring sun and sky, as debris settled below. A young man stared through angular sunglasses, seemingly emotionless, at the place where the old record shop had once stood.

It was the last good one around, too. That was what he got for moving to suburbia.

He almost walked away. What reason did he have to stay? Wasn't his record shop. Wasn't his problem. He had better things to do.

But something stopped him. A weird gut feeling, like there was something there. Something in that crater he was supposed to find. Had to find.

He jumped over the edge, where asphalt and rubble lay piled from the impact.

He was going to regret this. He just knew it.

The walls of the crater were burnt smooth. There wasn't a whole lot of traction, but there was enough to slide down into the center and still be able to climb out. That was a relief. He still couldn't see much for the smoke, though it was beginning to thin out. But he heard the coughing. It sounded like a kid. He walked a little faster.

In the epicenter, staring up at him with blue eyes through round glasses, was a baby. Not a meteor, like any sane person would expect, but a baby. She—as he guessed from her long black hair, since she was wearing a diaper—was sitting quite comfortably on a stuffed rabbit.

He stared down at the kid, debating with himself. Obviously, she was some kind of alien. Who else would arrive on Earth in a meteor? But what should he do with her?

Keep her. Raise her. That was his job, wasn't it? He was her Guardian.

He wasn't really even sure where those thoughts had come from, but they were compelling. It was the weirdest thing, but they seemed right. This was what was supposed to happen. And when she smiled with her buck teeth and held up her grubby little arms to him, he just couldn't walk away. He scooped her up in his arms, bunny and all, and climbed out of the crater.

Oh, yeah. He was going to regret this.

---

He'd found out pretty quickly that Jade just wasn't cut out to be a cool kid. She just couldn't pull off the shades. He'd tried giving them to her, but it was a disaster. They didn't look right just set over her glasses, obviously, and without her glasses, she was totally blind. It didn't seem right for a toddler to have eyesight that bad, but what could he say? She was a weird kid anyway.

She loved plants. Whenever they went for walks in the park, she hugged trees, looked at flowers, rolled in the grass. She loved animals, too. She ran up to dogs and gave them hugs, running her fingers through their fur. She was just so damn adorable, it was unreal.

"Are you a single father?" People asked that a lot. At first, he almost hadn't known what to say. What was a twenty-year-old supposed to do when someone asked him why he had a two-year-old daughter? But he came up with a plausible lie. One he could deal with.

"She's my little sister," he always said. "Half sister. Dad got remarried." When he had to explain why he was her legal guardian, he changed up the excuse a bit. "My parents died in an accident. I'm the only family she's got." No one really ever questioned him after that.

He thought he was doing well by her, though. They still lived in an apartment, but they were moving up. He had a steady job, even if it was in a cubicle. He'd do what he had to keep Jade happy and healthy. He just kept telling himself it was ironic and worked as a DJ in the evenings. Liza, their elderly neighbor, was a godsend. She looked after Jade while he worked.

Jade was a regular little chatterbox now, always talking about the dog she saw in the park on Saturday, or the cartoons she watched on TV. It hadn't been that long ago, though, that she'd said her first word.

"Bro!" She'd called, reaching up her arms and clenching and unclenching her fists. He'd scooped her up in his arms, just like he did the first time in the crater.

"Yeah, Sis. I'm your bro." He kind of liked it when she called him that.

---

"Wow!" Six-year-old Jade exclaimed, her face pressed to the window of the car. "It's so big!" Her gaze was fixed on the house they were driving up to, the one he had just bought. Their house.

"There's even a tree in the yard! An Acer platanoides!" He just grinned as he pulled into the driveway.

"And what's that again, for the dumb people in the car?" He asked her, looking into the back seat with the rear view mirror. He saw her turn her head and stick her tongue out at him.

"It's a Norway Maple, Bro!" Such a little know-it-all when it came to plants. But he wouldn't have it any other way.

He parked the car and opened the door, taking a moment to stare at the house he'd bought. It still seemed insane to him, how quickly things had changed for the better. He'd been moving up in his desk job, and that online puppet business had really taken off, too. Suddenly, he had the money to buy a house. In a house, they could live more comfortably. Jade was growing up. Soon enough, she'd need more space. They both would.

He had things he needed to teach her.

For now, though, he was content to watch as she ran around the yard, exclaiming over the tree and the grass and the bugs. They still had plenty of time. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he did. She wasn't doing anything important yet.

But when she did, she'd be ready. He'd make sure of it.

---

The blade of the shovel caught Lil' Cal squarely, pounding him into the floor. Even as fast as he was, his hand had almost been caught with it.

The mask of aggression instantly dropped from Jade's face. She stared in shock down at the puppet caught under her weapon.

"I... I did it?" She didn't sound sure of herself. She still couldn't believe it. Three years of training and these strifes, and she'd never managed to do more than block before. He was beginning to get worried that she didn't have it in her to actually attack. Apparently, he was wrong.

Slowly, her shocked expression turned to a grin.

"Yes!" She exclaimed. "Yes! I finally did it! I hit Cal!" She let go of the shovel, punching the air with both fists.

He whacked her in the back with a fist, sending her falling over shovel and puppet until she got a face full of carpet.

"What'd ya do wrong?" He asked, like he always did when she lost. He heard a muffled response. "What was that?" Jade lifted up her head.

"Never drop your weapon," she said, sounding dejected. Then, she turned to face him, giving him an apologetic grin. "Sorry, Bro! I sort of forgot!"

"Don't forget again," was all he said in response. He grabbed his suitcase. "I'll be back tonight. Do your homework." She nodded, looking a little dejected. As he walked to the door, though, he heard her speak again.

"Have a good day, Bro. Love ya." Those last two words still managed to choke him up somehow. What kind of man was he, to get worked up over that?

"Yeah," he said in response. He opened the door, then paused. "Maybe we'll watch one of your shitty movies tonight."

"Oh, great! I'll find the perfect one, just you wait!" It didn't take much to get her excited again. Smiling to himself, he walked out the door.

That day at lunch, he found that gummy worms had worked their way onto his sandwich. They didn't go very well with ham and mustard.

---

He still couldn't believe she was already thirteen. It was impossible, as impossible as the fact that he himself was thirty-one. But both were true, and time was running out.

She still wasn't the best fighter. He'd been rougher on her recently, trying to use the last of the time they had training. Soon she'd be on her own. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he did. Soon she wouldn't have him to depend on.

The thought made his heart ache. He didn't want to lose his little sis.

He walked in the door, those thoughts heavy on his mind. He'd just set down his briefcase when he heard her bedroom door slam.

"Why didn't you tell me!?" She yelled from across the kitchen.

"Tell you what?" He asked, sounding more irate than he'd meant to.

"This, asshole!" A wadded up piece of paper hit him in the side of the head, bouncing off and landing on the kitchen table. He picked it up, uncrumpled it. It was one of her drawings.

"What about it?" He asked. It didn't look any different than they normally did.

"Why didn't you tell me I was drawing puppets?" The tone of her voice made him finally look at her. Tears streamed down her face and her blue eyes were red and puffy, like she'd been crying for a while.

"You didn't know?" He asked, quietly, looking back down at the paper. He thought it was odd, at first, but he didn't say anything. He thought it was just another way to get back at him for all the strifes and the teasing. Just like the pranks. He thought maybe she was finally trying to develop a sense of irony.

"I thought I was drawing plants!" She managed to gasp through sobs. "There's something wrong with me!"

"Jade, look," he began, "it'll be—"

"Don't! Don't you dare start patronizing me!" She choked out. "You did this! You and your goddamn puppets! I... I don't even want to see you right now! I've had it! With everything!" She stormed out of the room, before he could even say anything else. He almost started after her, but he was too shocked. She said one last thing before she slammed her bedroom door closed.

"I HATE YOU!"

He didn't remember moving from the kitchen to the living room, but suddenly he was sitting down heavily on the couch. Her words echoed in his head over and over again.

He'd tried. Tried so hard to give her everything. To make sure she was ready. The one thing he'd done that hadn't been entirely towards that end was what screwed her up.

He didn't understand her. He loved her, but he could never understand her, understand what bothered her and what didn't. In her own way, she was just like him. Bottling everything up inside until she finally exploded. But while he just put on his sunglasses, she smiled, pretended everything was okay. Maybe she'd thought everything was okay, too.

He had to talk to her. He couldn't leave things like this. He'd do his best to understand. To take off his mask and be the brother she needed right now.

Because she had things to do. And it was his job to prepare her. Making her crazy wasn't preparing her.

He waited an hour before knocking on her bedroom door.

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If you didn't catch it, the kids in this AU are both different colors AND raised by different guardians. I'm roleplaying as blue!Jade raised by Bro, but I wanted to write a fic to get a little more into her character. Or, what I interpret as her character. I feel like there's still too much Jade and not enough John, but I'm working on it.

The other sort of head canon that I had for this was that the guardians take on some of the personality of their counterpart, too. Bro is still mostly Bro, but there's a recognizable bit of Dad in him, too. Or maybe this is just all Bro? I'll let you decide. xD But the kids still live in the same place as their colors, hence Bro being in suburbia and living in a house, rather than an apartment, and having a desk job. Ironically, of course.

And the last bit about the puppets is from a conversation Jade had with purple!John(MSB), when she sent him some of her drawings.

EDIT: Whoa, page topper!

And now for a Scratch fic. That is also, to a minor degree, a Scratch fic. Enjoy.

Scratching Post

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Rose hesitated for one final moment. Rather than the life-risking gamble she had assumed, acquiring the Quills of Echidna had been almost disappointingly easy. After the mysterious and, shudder, avuncular Doc Scratch ended their correspondence, a shooting star had appeared in LOHAC's sky. Curious and desperate for both an omen and an excuse to stall, Rose had sought it out. With her speed and experience with magical flight, she was able to intercept the projectile before it was lost to the planet's ubiquitous lava oceans.
It was, much to the girl's surprise, a plush bunny. The pink-and-purple striped patching on some areas and the timeworn, tar-stained original fabric marked it as the plaything of her youth that she had refurbished and sent to John for his birthday. The robotics, however, were new.
Rose almost dropped the thing as it turned to face her. A dispassionate cybernetic eye considered her for a moment, and then the lingham-and-logic-board lapine reached into the assembly of armaments on its back, produced what appeared to be two pieces of petrified lightning, and offered them to her. She accepted them reverentially, able to feel their power before she even held them, and flew back to the Beat Mesa with robunny in tow.
That brought the Seer of Light back to the current moment. Poised above the Mesa, which was flying over the molten surface of the Land of Heat and Clockwork like the emblem on a cosmic-scale version of Dave's shirt, and savoring her last few moments of existence. Oh, Rose Lalonde would still be there after the Scratch, or at least something resembling her, but the specific sybil who hovered over this giant reset button would cease to be even more totally than the doomed dreamself who had fused with her.
She briefly considered the Quills, sized for a stuffed rabbit, almost comically small in her hands. This might not work with a gun. Certainly not with a sword or a hammer. But magic didn't care about size. It just increased that critical measure of shit blown per cubic millimeter. And, thought Rose, as she pointed one Quill to the sky and began calling its awesome majjyks, shit would most definitely be blown today.
The invocation was quickly ruined by an incessant alert from her Hubtopband. Rose smiled to herself. One final goodbye, all snark discarded, all pretensions put to rest? Why not? Then she saw who was messaging her.

--tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering herself [TT]--
TT: Hi rose!
TT: Jaspers?
TT: I'm a cat on the internet! :3
TT: So you are. I suppose we'll have to get you a cheeseburger.
TT: That would be nice but it's not why i wanted to talk to you.
TT: Oh?
TT: I just finished talking to a nice girl!
TT: Her name is nepeta!
TT: Ah. arsenicCatnip.
TT: Yes. She had a cat too!
TT: But it also died.
TT: I see.
TT: But she liked talking to me so much she gave me a present to give to you!
TT: And what manner of present is this?
TT: She gave me captcha codes!
TT: Ah. I appreciate the gesture, but alchemy won't help us now.
TT: Rose i know you are trying to cause a scratch.
TT: I'm just a cat but cats know all about scratching.
TT: These codes will help you scratch the scratch even better than your new needles!
TT: Really?
TT: Oh yes!
TT: The part of me that isn't your cat doesn't think this is important.
TT: But the part that is does.
TT: Even more important than playing the rain!
TT: Well, with import of such magnitude, how can I say no?
TT: What are the codes?
TT: They are runLogan and Bluclaws
TT: How... straightforward.
TT: Thank you, Jaspers.
TT: Good luck rose!
TT: I hope i will still get to be your cat!
TT: As do I.
--tentacleTherapist stopped pestering herself--

For a moment, Rose considered simply causing the Scratch there and then. But she remembered her vow to buck the system Sburb had imposed on her at every opportunity, and this would probably be the last. Why give this accursed game the satisfaction of quitting in the matter it wanted her to? Thus decided, she flew for the tower she had made of Dave's home, opening a new Pesterchum window along the way.

--tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG]--
TG: sup
TT: Dave, at some point in the Gordian knot of your personal timeline,
TT: I'm going to need you to torrent me your Grist.
TG: you got it
TG: dont know what you think you can make thatll help though
TG: how much
TT: If I am correct, I will require the entire contents of your Cache,
TT: and possibly those of the others as well.
TG: so
TG: what youre saying is
TT: Yes.
TT: I need all the Grist.
TT: All of it.
TG: making it hapen
--tentacleTherapist stopped pestering turntechGodhead--

The "Bluclaws" were, appropriately enough, a set of blue, wrist-mounted claws that the Alchemy Excursus dubbed the Fluorite Sextet. The "runLogan" code produced, for a not inconsiderable amount of Grist, the appropriate Strife Specibus with which such implements could be wielded. This was determined through Holopad use, and from it, Rose understood. The Specibus was produced immediately, but further experimentation would be needed for the actual claws.
The && combination produced a pair of needles with a white/blue pattern and general opalescence reminiscent of the girl's own Land. But her gut told her that these weren't right, and for once, she listened to it. The || offered what looked to be white boxing gloves, each with a sun emblem and three Quills of Echidna projecting from the carpals. As the Seer had foseen, they required very nearly all the Grist all four adolescents had managed to collect, even, to her surprise, the millions of Artifact Grist produced by Dave's SBaHJery.
The scene was once again set, but now the Seer of Light physically stood atop the Beat Mesa, standing by the katana of Dave's fallen Bro. Loosened temporal energy licked at the blade like time-reversed fire, polishing steel and renewing leather. On each hand, Rose bore one of the Echidnuckles, the sigil of Light proudly displayed on each. She crouched, the tips of her reproduced Quills just touching the flying platform. And then, she began to run.
As she'd expected, barely after she'd taken her first step, she was being pestered.

What do you think you're doing?
TT: That's a very odd question coming from an omniscient being.
Oh, I know the answer. I just wanted to hear what you think it is.
TT: Do you not also know that?
Of course I do.
And believe me, the two could hardly be any further from one another.
TT: What was that you were telling me about confirming my sources?
Do you want me to explain how this amusing variant on the garden-variety Scratch will actually work, or would you like to just see what happens?
TT: I think I've figured it out quite nicely, thank you.
Oh?
And what makes you think that?
TT: You've described yourself as a prankster, have you not?
When the mood strikes me. What of it?
TT: Have you taken a look at your Gambit recently?
My dear, by my nature, I have transcended the crude metrics you believe to be an intrinsic part of life.
And, in any case, even if I did have a Prankster Gambit, it would've long ago been overwhelmed by the sheer volume of Japetics in my favor.
TT: I ask because mine appears to have made a small error
TT: It has awarded me three tics.
TT: A pittance to a genteel, charismatic, otherworldly gentleman such as yourself, of course,
TT: but if I recall correctly, it is the customary reward for anticipating and avoiding another's prank before it happens.
...
Drat.
TT: "I'll make you a Seer yet."
I realize this advice might be coming a bit late, but mocking the gods and their superiors is a dangerous thing to make into a habit.
TT: Well, it's a good thing I don't have much time left, isn't it?
True enough.
And, since you're nearly finished in this delightful little gesture of rebellion, allow me to say to you what I have said to very, very few people over a very, very long life:
You got me.

As Rose reached the other end of the Mesa, six parallel scratches behind her erupting with power unimaginable, she smiled.
And, even as she ran straight off of the Mesa and repositioned herself into a textbook swan dive, even as the massive luminous shockwave of revisionism engulfed her, even as her eldritch patrons whispered their haunting analogues of well-wishes into her mind, she never lost that smile.

And, a moment in the future and hours in the past (but not many), six thirteen-year old boys, each of whom was only that day given the name John, entered the Medium. Three noble Heirs, of Space, of Time, and of Light. Three Heroes of Breath, a Knight, a Seer, and a Mage. Six Lands, three of Wind and three of Shade, welcomed their princes. And six flighty broads charming young women named Rose felt a vague thrill of triumph that had nothing to do with just having saved a dear friend from meteoric doom.

Very, very nice!

...

Er... What was going on at the end, though?

Whoo, back with a Dave/John story. The title should explain most everything.

Dave and John: Play gay chicken.

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"You. Me. Gay chicken. Go."

You blink as Dave shoves a finger in your face, poking your cheek.

You are sixteen, and your good bro has come to spend two weeks with you at the start of summer vacation - unfortunately, he got out a few days before you, so he is forced to wait around at your house while you finish up those last few days of school.

By the way, you are currently standing on the steps outside the school, with about half an hour to go until class starts.

You are sixteen, and at that horribly awkward transitory period between boy and man, where you shoot up in height like a weed, and just when you begin to adjust to your new stature, you're suddenly taller again.

You are skinny as a twig, all the nutrition going towards your ever-towering gait. This new height has also graced you with a sort of clumsiness that you are certain you didn't have before. Honestly, you feel quite disproportionate; you never used to be so lanky. And your face... well, let's not go there.

"Gay what?"

...And, of course, your voice is deepening, which means that while it adjusts, it will inexplicably squeak at random intervals. So embarrassing.

Dave oh-so-kindly doesn't mention how your voice cracks, covering his snort of laughter with a well timed cough. Then, he proceeds to throw an arm over your shoulder, squeezing it disconcertingly.

He, of course, seems to have already gotten past the worst stages of puberty, standing just an inch or two shorter than you with subtle but definite strength and confidence. He is not clumsy in the slightest, and his complexion is perfect.

Lucky bastard.

Dave gives you an incredulous look - or at least, maybe; he's still wearing those famous shades of his, so in all honestly you have no idea what his eyes are expressing. His mouth is drawn in a slight frown, though.

"Dude, please tell me you know what gay chicken is."

He is distractingly close to you, but you shove the thought away and answer, "Uh... no?"

He says nothing for a few moments, simply staring at you in silent, unexpressed disbelief. Then finally, "Ugh... That's so lame, Egbert."

Dave then proceeds to spend the next fifteen minutes educating you on gay chicken, which is apparently some sort of fun new game that guys play to prove who is the manliest (therefore, Equius should always win, without contest, you think, mind going back to the trolls, to a time three years ago in a much different, higher risk game).

That part, you are totally on board with. It's a chance to out-cool (or at least out-manly) the resident coolkid, after all. But... It's just...

"So... you want me to flirt with you?"

Dave gives the impression of wanting to facepalm, but Rose has recently patented that action, so he simply shakes his head in disapproval instead. "No, I want you to pretend to flirt with me. You know, ironically. Get with the program, dude."

This is easily the most confounding game you've ever played. The theoretically simple rules seem to you like they'd be quite risky in all actuality, and your mind just stops working when Dave goes on to say:

"And it's not just flirting, dude. We're going hardcore, here. That means touching, kissing, ass-slapping, all that physical shit."

John: Protest.

After your brain is done exploding, you reply hysterically, "But, but how are we supposed to pretend to do that stuff?!"

He shrugs. "We'll get there when we get there."

To your horror, he brushes the back of his hand across your cheek in a way that can only be (ironically, just pretend) romantic. You backpedal to escape the gesture.

"Could you... could you not do that kind of thing, please?"

"It's kind of the whole point of the game, Egbert. Why the hell not?"

His reasoning is infuriatingly sound, and you flounder for a reason besides saying it makes you uncomfortable, knowing he'd think that's lame.

"Because... because people are watching!"

It had been the first feasible excuse to pop into your head, but a cursory glance tells you that it's true; more than a few of your classmates, some familiar, some not, have stopped to look on in varying levels of interest.

In particular, there is a gaggle of girls watching, and they are giggling far too knowingly.

Dave stares at you critically. "Jegus, Egbert, you're being such a fucking sissy about this."

The words sting, and you lower your head, mumble an apology.

A hand at your shoulder, and you blush as he leans in to whisper a curt apology of his own in your ear. The bell rings, and he sets off for what you call home, giving a lazy wave goodbye.

Somehow, you just know that your ear is bright red where his lips brushed it right before leaving.

You find, during the day, that not only do your classmates watch something that doesn't involve them with an absolutely astounding amount of apt interest, but that they talk. A lot.

The whole school knows about your new boyfriend by lunchtime, and the rumors... oh, god, the rumors...

They are best left forgotten. Let's leave it at that.

When you return home that day, you meekly but unrelentingly tell Dave to keep his gay chicken inside the closet with all his other games.

So, uh... I'm thinking of continuing this. When the idea popped into my mind, it went much further than here, but it just reads so good as a oneshot. I'll leave it at this unless people want more. In which case, I actually don't know where John lives, so could someone maybe tell me, please?

Ba, hahahahahahahaha!

[lantadyme]

@draconicAlgorithm: This was really sweet and Jade schooling Bro on gardening is adorable. Him working a desk job is just about the strangest thing to me, though. XD Nice stuff.
@MyCurrentObsession: Yes! Tall awkward lanky John and short Dave are both my headcanon and that was hilarious.

[Mirdan]

I wish I could read and write scratch fics all day like a useless piece of shit, but I have to fall down all this history reading instead...

I like the varied interpretations of the scratch we're getting here, but no-one's thought of ways to escape it like Scratch suggested. I might come up with something myself, if I can find time, but that's a request/prompt if anyone is interested.

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@wilySubversionist: Rose's reactions are exactly how I feel about Eridan: Yeah, you're pitiful and your life sucked, but now you're just a team killing bastard. You captured that well, as well as Eridan's inability to think about things further than his nose.

@ ProspitDreamer: I think 4 and 1 are the best executed of what you've written so far.

“I’m about to give you the best kiss that was ever had in two universes.”

For being "easy to manipulate," your Dave is pretty smooth there. Too bad this line will never make sense out of Homestuck context.

@battlerek: nice unique interpretation of the scratch, and it's interesting to note that the kids do complement the Midnight Crew's personalities so closely.

@ DraconicAlgorithm: I'm trying to think of a desk job that would be sufficiently ironic for Bro now. Customer support is the first thing that came to mind...

That day at lunch, he found that gummy worms had worked their way onto his sandwich. They didn't go very well with ham and mustard.

this is the best thing

@ A Fan: I kind of don't get your ending, but I love the buildup to it.

@ MayorSillyBiscuits: Time players seem to get the coolest powers and yet they're the most restricted in doing anything, and you captured that idea very well here. Poor Dave, but he's still pretty chill there.

@ gay chicken: Dave/John as ironic couple is something I must now investigate further. Thanks, MyCurrentObsession. (Also SCIENCE COOKIE)
It feels weird to think about the kids going to school!

@ ceruleanTresses: ooh what got installed? i want one!
Your Maid sounds like she's really good at keeping everyone together. I hope she doesn't collapse under that pressure, I'm starting to like her.

[Nox]

I don't quite understand the endi-

*re-reads*

O_O

Oh...

Oh wow...

Oh wow that is...

Horrifying.

Thanks for your review. It's good to have feedback on these things. Actualy, thank you everyone who commented on this. I think I feel better about this fic then any I've posted here before.

My thought process is that even with all memory erased, something remains. And that something builds in every character in the resets. John feared his quest bed because he dies on it often, for example.

It is in fact this lingering feeling that change the outcome. Slightly at first, but in greater and greater amounts in an ever-greater butterfly effect. This would be a great system if you only needed to scratch a few times to win. But when you have to loop over and over and over it becomes something horrible to you. Made even worse you don't know WHY it's so horrible because your memory of it is gone.

Thus the line:

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Rose looked at the Beat Mesa and screamed and screamed and screamed.

And she didn’t know why...

[ceruleanTresses]

@ ceruleanTresses: ooh what got installed? i want one!
Your Maid sounds like she's really good at keeping everyone together. I hope she doesn't collapse under that pressure, I'm starting to like her.

Thanks for commenting! What got installed was the program that lets the Rogue make her eyes, hair, and skin slightly luminescent, which the Thief noticed in "Beautiful." That means that when she's not in a situation where she needs to camouflage herself, she doesn't have to feel invisible. Also, keeping the team together is mostly the Thief's job, but I agree that the Maid is important there too. I would say the difference between them is that the Maid seeks to help people on an individual basis, whereas the Thief focuses on manipulating the team as a whole to keep things on track.

[Hero Parker]

Hey guys, I brought poetry! If the trolls had been allowed to enter our universe and rule over us as gods...
Well. We'd have gotten some interesting mythology.


Twelve Gods

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I am the god of passing time.
Eternal am I, like the rock.
No heart have I, but ticking clock.
You faze me not, and eons pass.
Do not ask me to answer prayer.
I do not listen, do not care,
For nothing in this world can last.
I see and know and feel no shock.
I am the god of passing time.

I am the god of agile breath,
Of all that soars upon the air.
In dreams of flying, I am there.
I ne'r oppose, but only bend.
And reach another, kinder height.
I am the fantasy of flight,
If you love freedom, I'm your friend,
If you be trapped, I mourn your snare.
I am the god of agile breath.

I am the god of coming doom,
Of all inevitable things.
You feast like peasants, die like kings.
I am the bell that tolls your death.
So wail, weep that you will die,
And celebrate your last novae!
The sweetest is your final breath
And torturous, the song you sing.
I am the god of coming doom.

I am the god of passioned heart.
I mull the sense like sweetest wine.
I know whose arms would well entwine,
So ask me, e're you make a match.
I bless your vows in solemn voice
And in your courtship song rejoice,
But break no hearts, lest my claws catch
The unfaithful who lie supine.
I am the god of passioned heart.

I am the god of woven space.
My gown makes up the firmament,
And constellations, my accent
Embroidered in a silver thread.
I'm ever-changing, like a storm,
I cannot keep a constant form,
And rivers flow where worlds have bled
To quench my constant discontent.
I am the god of woven space.

I am the god of cunning mind,
The arbiter at heaven's gate.
My smile or frown decides your fate.
I am a creature without eyes
And yet I see into your head.
So many, from my gaze have fled!
I separate the truth and lies,
So stammer falsehoods, I will wait.
I am the god of cunning mind.

I am the god of fortune's light,
The lucky star, the fate-lit flame
That bursts into a blaze of fame,
Success and serendipity.
But if you risk my help to plead
I'll mold you into what I need.
Your glory all belongs to me
Your flash will e're illume my name.
I am the god of fortune's light.

I am the god of empty void.
I am the zero, in-between,
Always present, never seen.
My duty just to watch and wait
And silent, know the things you do
When you're alone, the hidden you.
I neither judge nor name your fate
But keep your secrets, cruel, obscene.
I am the god of empty void.

I am the god of burning rage
Of pounding head and flecking gore,
Berserker of the art of war
And yet I kill with glee and mirth,
For all of life is but a joke.
My laughing voice is what invokes
The soldier's blood to spray the earth.
Adrenaline is my liquor.
I am the god of burning rage.

I am the god of faintest hope
Who walks the world with arms proffered.
I speak in hushed and pleading words
Give me your prayers, or I will wane.
My blessings ever on you shine
If your whole soul is only mine.
I love, but take my name in vain
And I will vanish, wrath incurred.
I am the god of faintest hope.

I am the god of given life,
Of joyous rushing through your veins,
Of pounding hearts and burning brains.
My finger always on your pulse
My breath is yours, your heartbeat mine,
And it is through my will divine
That inert matter feels impulse
To jump for joy and weep for pain.
I am the god of given life.

I am the god of flowing blood
Of anger, lust and bravery,
Of visceral mortality.
I am the glorious mundane.
I'm born, I die, and I renew.
Why pray to me when I am you?
And everything is my domain.
Those gods are a formality.
I am the god of flowing blood.

(Inspired by something I read quite a while ago that had this same basic concept but with the four kids, and I can't remember who wrote it otherwise I would totally give them credit. I think it was titled "Pantheon"?)

Holy. Fuck.

[ProspitDreamer]

This brief interruption to our regularly scheduled fanfic is brought to you by my sudden need to jump on the scratch bandwagon. Because it's an amazing wagon and it forced me to be on it against my will. Mostly though because I've found all these other scratchfics to be pretty amazing and inspiring.

Early

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Rose had been born a well-off girl in London, 1902. Raised by the rich widow Ms. Lalonde, she had been given the finer things in life and taught to behave as such. So when she’d seemed to have taken a liking to a well-off, finely raised boy her mother was delighted, and set up play dates for them often. But as they grew up, Rose found herself differing more and more from Eridian; he grew increasingly bitter and resentful towards life while her imagination seemed to grow more wild.

Even after she became Rose Ampora, her resentment towards him seemed to grow. Her attention was captured more and more with fanciful things of the imagination; she dreamed now more than just of stories of Pupa Pan coming to rescue her from her dull life through the open window. She spent a great deal of their money on books about wizardry and witchcraft, stories about magic and fortune telling. Eridian was her exact opposite; a scientist who insisted only on facts. They never agreed. As time went on, she felt more and more distant from him. She even constantly misspelled his name as Eridan, a fact that he repeatedly brought up during arguments. “After all this time, you can’t even spell my name!”

Despite this distance, they had managed to have two children, which Rose insisted be named Dave and Jade. Eridian was alright with Dave; it was a good name with strong tradition. But Jade was too fashionable; too lower-class. Rose was certain that his distant treatment of the poor girl stemmed from his hatred of that name; yet she never regretted giving it to her. It seemed right in a way that was beyond her explanation.

Her life might have continued on in that dull, repetitious drudgery forever if not for one Tuesday night when she attended a small magic show in a side-theater underneath an apartment house. She always sought out such shows; any demonstration of magic that was not part of the main stream, hoping to finally one day find something that was real.

The show itself had been unremarkable. Another illusionist, performing silly tricks that were nothing more than jokes to her. It was the magician himself that had her transfixed. She was inexplicably drawn to him. She stared at him, uncertain of what it was, but though she had never seen him before in her life, she felt as though she knew him.

It was the same feeling she got from Eridan-she-meant-Eridian (as his name usually came out of her lips). She decided she had never liked her husband; and yet she felt drawn to him. They shared something, some deep incalculable knowledge that she could never put her finger on, and that he refused to acknowledge.

So when the young magician walked straight up to her after his show and said “Don’t I know you?”, she instantly fell in love, though she was certain it was out of desperation.

The affair had been long and sweet, lasting for years. He revitalized Rose, gave her life back to her, made her able to face her miserable marriage and be a good mother to her children, preventing her from repeating her mother’s mistakes. She watched them grow up, but as they entered their teenage years she couldn’t shake the feeling that they needed her no longer, and that she was running out of time.

“Out of time to do what?” John asked her, from behind his desk at the small magic shop he had opened and ran in the poorer section of town, far away from Eridian’s high-class office.

“I don’t know.” she said. “But I have a feeling we’re very early for something. Far too early.”

He looked at her quizzically.

“Being early is the exact opposite of running out of time, Rose.”

She paced, her eyebrows knitted together fretfully.

“I know.”

It had gone on like that for about a year, before she met a vampiress in the ally.

She had been struck in the head, dizzy and with fangs nearly to her neck when the vampire stopped and pulled back.

“I know you.” she said.

Rose stared at the being in the shadows and squinted.

“I knew magic was real.” was her reply.

“You’re not afraid of me?” came the very surprised answer.

“No. I agree; I know you.”

They had conversed about this feeling for a good hour into the dark night, and had met several times thereafter; and both agreed with certainty that they were early. Maryann, as was the vampiress’ name, explained to Rose that she had already been waiting a long time; a few hundred years, she said, and she still felt early.

“It’s coming, but still not for awhile.” she said. Rose came up with a plan, contemplated it for a few nights, and then went to Maryann with it.

“I will wait with you.” she said. “Make me immortal.”

Maryann had not replied for a long time.

“I don’t think it will matter. Everything was far too early.” she said. “Yet I still feel like I have a purpose to fulfill.”

“Yes, we both do. Have me wait with you.” Rose asked again. And so Maryann had agreed.

Rose had prepared little for the end of her current life. She had nothing to say to her husband. Her children were too busy building their own new lives, and they would miss her, but they didn’t need her. John was the only person that it broke her heart to say goodbye to. He had cried openly and begged her to let him come with her, wherever she was going.

“I don’t know why, but you don’t come this time.” she said.

“What does that mean, ‘this time’?” he asked, his voice cracking with emotion. She gazed at him with detached eyes, her heart already having severed itself from the situation.

“I don’t know. But I will see you again.”

She gave him one last kiss, they parted, and Maryann kept her side of the promise.

Now as she stood in the ally where she’d been changed into a vampire, she wasn’t sure what to do next. Maryann came by every now and then, but as the time passed they drifted apart. Rose watched the roaring twenties come by; she watched the new invention of the automobile become popular and replace the horses. She watched the humans suffer through the Great War, then the Great Depression, and during World War Two she left London; unable to handle the brutality of watching her beloved city fall apart underneath the barrage of bombs.

She moved to the United States and set up a small magic shop there during the fifties. When records were invented she had the inexplicable urge to collect them, and so she opened a music shop as well. She’d almost nearly forgotten about her original purpose, save for one incident when a hippie boy came in, stoned out of his mind, looking for juggling pins and a clown costume. She watched him with squinted eyes, unsure of whether she knew him or not, but said nothing to him as he made his purchase and was glad when he left.

During the eighties she inexplicably found herself in the movie theater nearly every weekend, watching terrible action films, mostly starring Nicholas Cage. But when the nineties came, she found herself getting restless. The feeling of urgency started to grow more and more powerful. She wasn’t early anymore. She was nearly on time. It was coming, and she had to be ready.

She flew back to London and though she had never owned one before, purchased a computer. She didn’t look at the city around her, which had changed more than she cared for. She rented a small flat that overlooked an ally full of dumpsters, and waited for Maryann to come by, as she knew she would.

One day when she received a knock on her door, she fully expected it to be her- but instead it was a middle-aged man, perhaps in his fifties, with straight black hair that was graying in places. He was unexpectedly muscular, a professional boxer and weightlifter, he explained. His name was Zack, and he was John’s grandson.

“My grandad always talked about you, all the time. Drove my grandma crazy. He always told us about weird dreams he had, that you would come back, to this spot, on this date. He said grandma had this set of dice, and whenever he rolled them they always came up with the same numbers; and when he saw this address which matched those numbers, he wouldn’t shut up about it. I didn’t really mean to be here, but when I was in the neighborhood on that date I couldn’t just walk by and not check it out.”

Rose only squinted her eyes and studied him.

“Did you bring your computer?”

“What?”

“Just tell me if you brought it.”

Zack’s face turned a bit pale.

“Yeah…it’s in my car.”

“Bring it up.”

He obeyed, his skin starting to crawl a bit, as he felt something big and important was about to happen. Rose tried to explain to him as best she could what she knew, but it was barely anything.

“I keep getting the feeling that some of us were early, and others late. It’s not going to work out this time, either.” she said. Zack frowned.

It was then that Maryann returned, right on schedule, and she had a young boy with her, perhaps only seven years old.

“This is Solomon. He’s still early, but not as early as we were.” she explained. Rose watched with a scrutinizing gaze as the young boy began setting up an internal network between their four laptops, connecting them with phone lines to each other. He then pulled out four square floppy discs from his pocket and slid it into each laptop.

“Okay, everyone, get ready.”

The four of them took their seats in front of the terminals of their makeshift, home-made network, and he booted each disc. It took forever to load.

After they had played Sburb for only a short while, it became very apparent to them that something was wrong. Of the eight towers on the moon of Derse and eight on the moon of Prospit, they only occupied two on each. Out of curiosity, Rose once peered into the windows of one of the unoccupied rooms on Prospit. She recognized John’s things immediately. She left before she broke apart into tears.

When they learned of the scratch, it was more than a blessing. It was the relief of an old, gnawing pain, an incurable ailment, as sickness that had plagued all of them since before they were born.

“I’ve done this before.” Rose said as she stood upon Solomon’s Beat Mesa- it never did feel right that he was the Knight of Time- staring at the quills in her hands. “What did I do last time so wrongly to make it end up like this?”

The universe did not have a reply. With a tired sigh, Rose realized that it was all over either way. It was with great relief that she pressed the quills into the top of the record and dragged them across. As she watched a blinding light emerge and felt herself start to come apart, her heart was filled with nothing but hope that perhaps this time, things would come out right.

[anonymousComrade]

So, remember when I said I'd try to keep this short, but I'd probably fail miserably?

Yeah, I was right

I think I'm finally satisfied with it (as satisfied as I'm going to get, anyway) so I'm throwing it out there now, before I look at it again and scrap the whole thing.

Gonna warn you now, this is sappy as fuck. If the last chapter was a good end, this is a titanium-reinforced good end, so ready your insulin, because here comes:

Crossing Over: Epilogue

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>Epilogue: Start.

Alterth. That was the name of their new homeworld. But rather than rule it as gods, the sixteen chose to simply live among its strange new inhabitants.

A second chance at a normal life. Their victory over Sburb had earned them that much, at least.

>Be Karkat.

Who? You are pretty sure you know nobody who goes by that name. You can vaguely recall a time where that name seemed somehow familiar, but it has long passed.

>Be John.

You are now JOHN EGBERT. Five years ago, you and your fifteen friends emerged victorious from Sburb's trials, and as a reward, your group was allowed to create a universe as you saw fit. The game noted your desires for the new world and took care of the rest.

Alterth was the result. It hasn't been easy; the history of the world is full of strife, conflict, and general unpleasantness. But when the dust settled, the alliance of human and troll ensured a bright future for all.

A world where trolls and humans could live, side-by-side, in peace. It was exactly what you wanted.

Oh, look. Someone is trying to contact you.

>John: Answer someone.

-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] --

CG: WHAT'S UP, FUCKASS.
EB: hey karkat!
CG: WHO
CG: WHY DO YOU KEEP CALLING ME THAT? I'VE TOLD YOU MY NAME A THOUSAND TIMES AND YOU STILL CAN'T FUCKING GET IT RIGHT.
CG: WELL ANYWAY I WANTED TO KNOW IF YOU WERE GOING TO SHOW UP TONIGHT.
CG: WE'RE FRIENDS, RIGHT? I MEAN I KNOW I'M KIND OF A DICK BUT WE'RE STILL BUDDIES, RIGHT?
CG: AND I THINK I'D HATE IT IF YOU MISSED THE PARTY.
EB: hahaha you do this all the time! of course we're friends.
EB: and yeah, i'll be there. see you then, kyle!
CG: FUCKING FINALLY, NOW HE GETS MY NAME RIGHT.
CG: OKAY, SEE YOU THEN.

-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] --

>Be Kyle.

You are now KYLE VANTAS, and today is your eighteenth birthday. You are the youngest of your circle of friends; the last to turn eighteen, in fact, and in celebration you have invited everyone to your place tonight to hang out.

You have a feeling that tonight is the night you will learn something important about yourself. You aren't sure what it could possibly be, but the feeling is there in the back of your mind, all the same.

Your girlfriend is pestering you. She herself is a troll, and you tend to keep your relationship with her a private matter. Not because anyone finds anything wrong with human-troll romance in this modern day and age, but because, frankly, who you date is none of your friends' damn business.

Of course, you do a terrible job of hiding it, and your relationship with Terezi is completely obvious to even the most oblivious of your friends.

>Kyle: Answer girlfriend.

-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] began pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] --

GC: H3333Y K4RK4T!
GC: 4R3 YOU TH3R3
CG: NO. THERE HAS NEVER BEEN ANYONE NAMED KARKAT HERE.
CG: SERIOUSLY TEREZI, WHAT THE HELL IS UP WITH YOU AND EGBERT LATELY????
CG: IS THERE SOME GRAND FUCKING CONSPIRACY YOU TWO CAME UP WITH TO DRIVE ME BATSHIT INSANE?
CG: BECAUSE IT'S WORKING.
GC: H3H3H3H3, SOUNDS L1K3 YOU ST1LL H4V3NT WOK3N UP Y3T >:]
GC: DONT WORRY, 1TLL COM3 TO YOU SOON 3NOUGH
CG: WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, YOU CRAZY WOMAN
CG: CLEARLY I AM WIDE AWAKE BUT YOU HAVEN'T SHUT UP ABOUT THIS "WAKING UP" BULLSHIT FOR MONTHS.
CG: "OH 1 C4NT W41T FOR YOU TO W4K3 UP K4RKL3S, 1TLL B3 SO COOL"
CG: YOU ARE MAKING LESS SENSE THAN USUAL.
GC: BL4R, OK4Y KYL3, 1 G3T 1T >:[
GC: BUT 1 TH1NK TON1GHT 1S TH3 N1GHT 1T H4PP3NS!
GC: 4ND 1F 1T COULD H4PP3N 4NY M1NUT3 NOW TH3N 1M COM1NG TO YOUR PL4C3 R1GHT NOW
GC: 1 WOULDNT W4NT TO M1SS 1T >:D
GC: 1S TH4T OK4Y W1TH YOU
CG: AM I OKAY WITH SPENDING SOME QUALITY TIME WITH THE GIRL I LOVE BEFORE THE FRUITY RUMPUS FACTORY ASSHOLES SHOW UP.
CG: WHAT DO YOU THINK?
GC: >:]
GC: > :]
GC: >:]
GC: > :]
GC: OK4Y, S33 YOU SOON! <3
CG: <3

-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] --

>Be Terezi.

You are now TEREZI PYROPE, and you are eccentric as hell, to put it lightly.

From an early age, your lusus trained you to sense the world around you not with sight, but with smell and taste. It is another weird quirk of troll biology that scientists have never been able to explain, alongside things like telekenesis and the hemospectrum. To you, the world is a neverending parade of color and scents and flavors.

Just as you wanted it to be.

The vibrant lime greens, raspberry blues and bubblegum pinks of treetops, the licorice blacktop of roads, the orange-apple-cinnamon of the setting sun, the cotton candy cyan of a cloudless midday sky and the blueberry oceans are all served on the neverending buffet that is how you sense the world around you. To be honest, you actually prefer not to use your eyesight in order to strengthen your smell-o-vision, which is why you have taken to wearing a blindfold most of the time.

But being a scholar of the law, you know all too well that it discourages driving while wearing one, no matter how good the driver's sense of smell is. So you have set it aside for now.

Tonight is cause for celebration, not just because your matesprit, Kyle, turned eighteen today, but because he will awaken tonight, just as you and the rest of your friends did not long ago, and when the memories come flooding back, you want to be there for him.

You wonder what the rest of your friends are up to.

>Be Sollux.

Who? Nobody here goes by that name, not anymore. Why do you insist on being characters that don't exist?

>Fine, be the guy who used to be Sollux.

You are now SOLOMON CAPTOR, half-troll and biological curiosity. The life cycle of a troll could be described as "vaguely insectoid", while humans are most definitely mammalian, and yet these two species, who could not be more different genetically, are somehow biologically compatible.

It was only recently that you discovered the answer as to why: you and your friends designed it that way. Specifically, the duality you held in your old life influenced the creation of the new universe.

You took the revelation that you were partially responsible for the creation of your universe rather well. After all, your old world kind of sucked. But being a hybrid of human and troll is pretty sweet, so you can't say you're disappointed with the world Sburb cranked out.

Speaking of sweet, your lady friend is messaging you.

>Sollux: Answer lady friend.

-- cuttlefishCuller [CC] began pestering twinArmageddons [TA] --

CC: Hi Solomon! 38D
CC: Or Sollux... I can N-EV-ER tell w)(ich one you like better.
CC: I was wanting to know if you were going tunaig)(t!
TA: well yeah, ky ii2 my be2t friiend
TA: of cour2e ii'm goiing, you only turn eiighteen once
CC: T)(en I'll go wit)( you, okay?
TA: ii thiink that wa2 the plan actually
CC: O)(, good! It's been FOR-EV-ER since we were all toget)(er, and fis)( of a scale ought to swim toget)(er, don't you t)(ink?
CC: And I don't get to spend so muc)( time with YOU anymore, glub! W)(ic)( makes me a little crabby!

You then proceeded to have an inane conversation filled with fish puns, many of which were stretches at best, for the next half hour.

But you don't mind, because you love the shell out of her. Er, the hell out of her.

>Skip to the end. Also, be Feferi.

CC: Okay, I'll sea you LAT-ER Solomon! I glub you!
TA: glub you two
TA: oh goddamniit you've got me doiing iit two
CC: )(e)(e)(e)(e)(e! 38)

--cuttlefishCuller [CC] ceased pestering twinArmageddons [TA] --

You are FEFERI PEIXES, heiress to the throne. That doesn't matter much these days, as most governments today are run by elected leaders, but tradition is a powerful thing, and the troll empress still holds sway in the minds of the people, symbolically, if not politically.

This would have made you sad if it weren't for Sburb transforming the world into everything you wanted it to be.

On Alternia, you wanted to unite sea and land trolls. On Alterth, an empress managed to accomplish this centuries ago. On Alternia, you wanted to care for the disabled instead of killing them. On Alterth, culling has not been practiced by trolls for over a millenium. On Alternia, you had grand plans to abolish the hemospectrum and the institutionalized discrimination in troll society that it enabled. On Alterth, the varied hues and shades of troll blood is little more than a curiosity that science has never quite been able to explain.

In short, even though your role as Empress will consist of little else than public appearances, officially, you're okay with it, because you've already done everything you set out to do.

Hey, one of your people is trying to contact you.

>Feferi: Answer your person.

-- caligulasAquarium [CA] began pestering cuttlefishCuller [CC] --

CA: hey your majesty just checkin to see if you needed a ride to kyls tonight
CA: sorry if im buggin you
CC: ---Eridan! Don't be so )(ard on yours)(ellf!
CC: I always )(ave time for friends, especially for my favorite butler! 38D
CC: And you don't )(ave to use my title, you know!

>Be Eridan.

You are ERIDAN AMPORA, and holy mackerel, things have changed.

In your old life, your ranking in the hemospectrum would have made you a general of the Alternian army and the empress's right-hand man. Your influence in politics would have been second only to the empress herself, and as top advisor to her, yours would have been the secret hand guiding Alternia.

In your new life, you still serve the empress directly... as a butler. A servant to a ceremonial post, devoid of any real political power. Your life will be spent waiting on her and assisting her in everyday life. Your name will not go down in history as a conqueror; it will be barely remembered in records few will ever see as part of the empress's housekeeping staff.

You feel it is better than you deserve, as the memory of your crimes in Sburb still haunts you to this day. It has been a while since the last time you awoke in the night, visions of Feferi's still-smoking corpse atop the horn pile, or Kanaya on the floor lifeless next to a destroyed matriorb, frozen in your mind. But not long enough. Never long enough.

You committed these murders, and not even the creation of a new universe and the resurrection of the victims can undo the memory of your bloodshed. So, when Sburb asked what you wanted for the new world, your only wish was for the chance to repent for your wrongdoing.

The weight of your guilt will remain with you until the day you die, even if Feferi forgives you a million times. Your mopiness sometimes grates on those around you, actually!

Your computer is beeping. You should probably resume your conversation.

>Eridan: Do so.

CC: You still there, -Eridan?
CA: oh yeah sorry musta spaced out for a sec there
CC: )(-E)(-E, you sound like Gamzee!
CC: Or... were you being depressed again? 38/
CC: I wis)( you wouldn't be so sad all t)(e time! T)(at's all ancient )(istory now, glub!
CA: its good of you to say so i suppose
CC: I know! You s)(ould come along tonig)(t!
CA: no wway
CA: i could almost see the wwaves of hostile feelins last time wwe wwere all together
CC: Oh -Eridan! Stop t)(is!
CC: ---EV--ERYON--E knows you're sorry by now, glub! ----Even KYL--E admitted you're "SORT OF AN OKAY GUY NOW, I GUESS", in )(is ---EXACT words before we made t)(is world, glub!
CA: he just said that so you wwouldnt yell at him
CA: wwhat am i evven doin here
CA: you guys shoulda left me back in the dreamscape i mean i deservved as such
CC: ----------ERIDAN AMPORA! 38O
CC: I wasn't s)(ore before but now t)(ings are most definitely CL---EAR!
CA: oh man here it comes
CA: wwere gettin to the part wwhere i get fired aint wwe
CC: No, -Eridan.
CC: I just realized somet)(ing...
CC: And t)(at somet)(ing, glub, is t)(at you need )(elp.
CC: I want to )(elp you -Eridan, because you are my friend.
CA: you dont mean that
CC: I do, -Eridan! For reel!
CC: You N-E-ED someone to )(elp you wit)( your problems.
CC: You need a moirail.
CA: wwhat
CA: no
CA: no wway
CA: Absoulutely not.
CA: I am dead serious about this, Your Highness.
CA: I can't.
CA: I just
CA: That's
CA: oh god
CA: im havin flashbacks
CA: oh god
CC: Are you okay?
CA: no
CA: im not okay
CA: i will never be okay jegus fuck
CC: Do you want to talk about it?
CA: no
CA: i wont do that to you
CA: its not fair to you and its not your fault i just
CA: oh god
CA: i cant i cant i cant
CA: im sorry
CA: so fucking sorry
CC: ----Eridan! Please, calm down!
CA: im tryin really i am
CA: its just
CA: we were moirails a long time ago
CA: remember
CA: before
CA: and everything spiraled out of control because i got jealous
CA: and now everytime i close my eyes i see you lyin on a pile of horns with a bloody hole in your chest
CA: and yeah it was all undone eventually
CA: but it doesnt matter
CA: i still did it
CA: i am the murderer
CA: its me
CA: i cant be trusted to fill a quadrant wwith anyone your highness least of all you
CA: and anywway i aint exactly in a position to be a danger to anybody anymore
CA: so the need for a moirail is kinda not a thing that evven exists
CC: That's not true! You may not be hurting anyone ---ELS---E, but...
CC: W)(at you are doing is incredibly self-destructive, glub! 38(
CC: And...
CC: I am going to save you from yourself.
CC: So as of t)(is moment, I am your moirail!
CA: damnit
CA: youre serious about this aint you
CA: not gonna take no for an answwer
CC: OF COURS-E, glub!
CA: wwell
CA: its good of you to havve faith in me i guess
CA: evven if theres wway better people than me to fill that quadrant
CC: So will you come to Kyle's tonig)(t?
CA: if your gloriousness wwills it then i guess i got no choice
CC: -Eridan. Please.
CC: When we are speaking like t)(is, I am not t)(e --Empress!
CC: I am just your moirail, Feferi. Okay, glub?
CA: ...okay fef
CC: Glub glub glub!
CC: Okay, sea you tonig)(t!
CA: sea you

-- caligulasAquarium [CA] ceased pestering cuttlefishCuller [CC] --

Maybe you can't ever forgive yourself for your crimes. But sometimes, its the smallest gestures of kindness that give you the greatest hope.

>Be someone else.

You're going to have to be a little more specific than that.

>Be... Equius? Is he still someone who exists?

You are now EQUIUS ZAHHAK.

You were the first among your friends to awaken to the truth behind your universe: that all of them, and yourself, were the ones to create it.

When you cleared the trials Sburb had set in front of you not once, but twice over, you had but one wish in mind, and the new world has surely delivered.

"equiusss!"
"Hello, Nia. How does this day find you?"
"*the cat girl springs at her best furriend for a tacklepounce hug!*"

In your old world, you had to be e%cruciatingly careful not to accidently harm your moirail when she got up to something like this, as your massive STRENGTH meant you could tear her in half just because your muscles twitched incorrectly.

But now? Humans are known on Alterth for being both resourceful and clever, which is why the planet is not populated solely by trolls. On Alternia, the solution to dealing with your freakish STRONGNESS was living alone and a hobby in robotics. Here, a human doctor designed a brace for you that allows you to go about your everyday life without fear of breaking things... or people.

So now, you can hug back the girl who is like a sister to you without worrying about snapping her spine.

A world where you don't have to worry about destroying everything in it with the slightest touch. Alterth is everything you could have asked for.

>Be Nia.

You are now NIA LEIJON. You live next door to your best friend, Equius. Sometimes other people wonder if there's more to it than that, but those people are silly! Equius is a brother to you and you wouldn't trade what you have with him for the world. Besides, you are well aware of the thing he has for a certain maroon-blooded troll girl.

You are uniquely qualified to make this assessment, being the Rogue of Heart and all.

It seemed like a silly request to make of Sburb when it created your new universe, but all you could think of was that you wanted humans and trolls to get along in the new world.

Blackrom is still a thing, trolls being what they are. But, because Alterth is a much gentler world than Alternia ever was, the ruthless aggression that was necessary to survive back then no longer influences the black quadrants. Kismesitudes still burn as obsidian as ever, but without thousands of years of violence behind troll society, casualties are an extreme rarity.

That, and humans tend to make EXCELLENT ashen partners. With not one but two races to consider, it is an endless world of shipping opportunities, and it makes you grin like an idiot.

Another thing that makes you grin like an idiot is the possibility that tonight is the night you will work up the courage to confess your crush to a certain someone! He has come a long way in the last five years, and you hope you will see him shortly.

>Be Aradia.

You are now ARADIA MEGIDO, and you are en route to Kyle's house. The gang has not gotten back together in quite some time, so you are eager to catch up with everyone.

Your PDA is beeping.

>Aradia: Answer PDA.

-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering apocalypseArisen [AA] --

TG: yo
TG: maid of time
TG: mistress of rhyme her beats are sublime
TG: rhythm so fine its a crime on the company dime
TG: sup
AA: haha s0unds like s0me0ne just g0t 0ut 0f rehearsal!
TG: yeah sorry about that those rhymes were pretty bad
TG: used up all my good ones fifteen minutes ago
TG: rapping on fumes now
TG: so im on my way to kyles or karkats or whatever the fuck hes gonna call himself after today
TG: johns thinking hell wake up tonight
TG: about fucking time i say
TG: how the hell did he end up being the youngest out of all of us anyway
TG: fucking sburb how does it work
TG: so anyway i wanted to know if you were going tonight
TG: seeing how youre the featured artist on the track im debuting there
AA: yes i will be there :)
TG: okay rad
TG: catch you later
AA: bye davide!
TG: ugh how about not calling me that again ever
TG: what the fuck kind of rule is that anyway
TG: hurr its not a proper troll name if it isnt exactly six letters long
TG: im dave regardless of what species i am
TG: because i am just that awesome
TG: see you at kyles aradia
AA: see y0u there!

-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering apocalypseArisen [AA] --

>Be Dave.

You are now DAVIDE SYPHER, and you hate your first name SO MUCH. At least DAY-vihd was tolerable, but dah-VEED makes you sound like you're some kind of snooty asshole. You will never understand why the length of a troll's name has to be so exact. Oh, as far as your lusus is concerned you're still DAVE STRIDER, but you know, tradition and all that.

When the game offered you a choice between remaining human or becoming a troll, your response of "yeah sure id love to be a candy corn horned asshole forever" was interpreted literally. So, you decided to roll with it. You and your friends get sappy-ass happy endings, you said. Everyone's guardians came back in some form or another. It was an ironic thing to want for someone as cool as you, though secretly it was something you genuinely wanted to happen, so maybe not so much. But no one has to know that.

Your lusus is an older human male. A human or troll being appointed as a lusus on Alterth is a somewhat rare occurrence, though not unheard of, when a lusus naturae never steps forward to claim a troll hatchling. You guess you COULD have brought Bro back as a lusus naturae instead of as a human. But it seemed like kind of a dick move.

Speaking of your Bro, not fifteen minutes ago, you were rehearsing with him, Jade, and the biggest tool this side of non-paradox space for an upcoming gig. The four of you are part of a band that intentionally produces the shittiest techno metal rap you've ever heard. Naturally, you have a bit of a following locally and on the internet. But your latest stuff is actually pretty good; Aradia approached the band recently about putting together a serious demo, and it turns out she has the singing voice of a fucking angel. You just finished mixing that track yesterday, and you can't wait to pop that shit in for everyone.

>Be the tool.

You are now TRAVIS NITRAM, though you may be better known by your stage name of GEROMY, drummer for THE SOCK RUSE DISTACTION. You are sort of a big deal because you lay down the freshest beats for the illest rhymes and sweetest riffs this side of any space, paradox or not, but you don't let that go to your head, because that's not the kind of guy you are.

You and your bandmates are going to spend some time at Kyle's place tonight, because it's his birthday, and that is a thing friends do. In fact, you're almost there now.

You'd like to see one of your best friends here tonight. Maybe you should give her a call.

>Travis: Call friend.

You dial her phone number. It rings once before she picks up.

"Hello????????"
"hEY, IT'S ME,"
"Traaaaaaaavis!"
"wHAT'S UP,"
"Not a lot, just out with some friends. What a8out you?"
"jUST ABOUT TO UH, PULL INTO KYLE'S, yOU SHOULD COME TOO, WE JUST FINISHED UP A BRAND NEW SONG WITH aRADIA AND ITS GREAT, wE'RE GOING TO SHOW IT TO EVERYONE,"
"Sounds interesting! I'll definitely 8e there then!"
"aLRIGHT, GREAT, UHH, SEE YOU THEN,"
"See you tonight!"
*click*

You stuff your phone back in your pocket.

>Travis: Reminisce.

You think back to five years ago, when you and your friends defeated the best Sburb had to offer and created this new world. All sixteen of you had some measure of influence in the way Alterth would develop. You wanted a world where a person didn't have to be a bloodthirsty monster just to survive, where it was okay to be different, to be weak sometimes, to have fun and play games and just enjoy life without having to kill or be killed.

This, you remember as you exit the vehicle, was Sburb's gift to you, and your gift to Alterth.

You knock on Kyle's door. He opens the door and...

"OH HEY, YOU JACKASSES ARE HERE SOONER THAN I THOUGHT YOU'D BE."
"uM, kYLE, YOUR FACE, ITS UH,,,"
"WHAT? THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH MY FACE, YOU SAYING I'M UGLY NOW?"
A voice shouts from further inside the house. "WHOS H3R3, KYL3?"
Dave starts laughing. "hahaha dude fuck, sorry bro, didnt know we were interrupting sloppy interspecies makeout time, we can wait out here if you want."
"THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABO---" Kyle's eyes catch sight of himself in a mirror by the door. His face turns scarlet when he realizes it's covered in teal lipstick.

The door slams shut in your faces and you don't even care. You, Dave and Jade haven't laughed this hard in a long time.

>Be Vriska.

You have been told to stop trying to be imaginary characters more than once. But addition is a powerful thing, it seems.

>Be Travis's moirail.

You cannot be Travis's moirail, because he doesn't have one, because he is not a troll!

>Be whoever it was Travis called, damnit.

You are now FRANZISKA SERKET, and you used to be a bad person.

Remembering the thousands who died by your hand on Alternia makes you cringe. When you recall your actions toward the boy you now consider your best friend, chills shoot down your spine. To think you were ever capable of such brutality is not something you want to remember, which is why you have sworn to never forget.

You think you are okay, now. You have had fifteen friends to support you since you made the decision to turn your back on the person you used to be, after all.

When Skaia demanded to know your wishes for the universe you and your friends had created, you had but one idea in mind: no one should have to grow up like you did. And when you were asked what form you wished to take upon joining the new world, well, you had the recommendation of a good friend of yours to guide your decision.

One of your friends is trying to get your attention.

>Be the friend.

You are now KANAYA MARYAM, and it's moments like these that you fought so hard for.

"Franziska, Look."
"Wh8t's up, Fussyfangs?"
"The Sun Is Beginning To Set. It Is A Sight I Will Never Tire Of."
"Ah, that which has inspired generations of artists to take brush to canvas."
"Well geeeeeeeez, Rose, it sounds so much less mund8ne when you put it THAT way!"

The sun of your old world, Alternia, burned red with such a harsh intensity that you were one of the few who could tolerate it, and you may have been the only troll who actually enjoyed sunlight. The yellow sun of Alterth, however, is much milder than its old counterpart. Those who spent part of their lives on Earth have compared it to their old planet's sun, and though you may never have seen Earth, if that planet's days were anything like this, it must have been a wonderful place.

It seemed like a silly request to make, a superficial influence on the world that would become yours. But a world where you could share moments like this with your friends was all you could ask for.

>Be Rose.

You are now ROSE LALONDE, and you have repaid your debt, with interest.

Five years ago, your plan to cross the gap between sessions ended in the death of one of the only four surviving trolls, sending the remaining three into despair. Your plan to reverse this turn of events would use a loophole in how the dreamscape worked to resurrect the fallen trolls as humans. There was not a guaranteed chance of success, as there would be no way to determine how Feferi, Daughter of the Horrorterrors, would utilize the power they themselves had placed within her.

But you could guess. And guess, you did. In the end, Feferi's shock at the horrorterrors' betrayal became a righteous fury that cleared the path to escape and ensure the mission's success. Ancient monstrosities from beyond time and reality cannot be permanently destroyed in such a manner, however, so the horrorterrors' influence could never be truly shaken.

Until the moment this new universe came into existence.

In return for having bested everything it could mount against you, your one desire for Alterth was that it was never to be disturbed by Skaia. Oh, you suppose a few copies of Sburb or Sgrub or whatever it ends up calling itself this time around might surface around when the sun enters its death throes. But you have ensured that this world will be allowed to run its course, without being prematurely ended at the hands of meteor strikes from paradox space.

You turn to Kanaya and smile. It IS a beautiful sunset.

>Skip ahead a bit.

Sixteen friends gather in the basement of a house of a quiet neighborhood to celebrate the eighteenth birthday of one of their own.

One of them attempts to get the attention of the others.

>Be that one.

You are now JADE HARLEY, and you have something to share with the group.

"hey everyone! remember how distaction and aradia were working together on a song??? well it's done!!! dave finished it and i want to give it a listen."

Murmurs of cautious agreement can be heard coming from the group. They are all too aware of the usual "quality" of a work by The Sock Ruse Distaction.

>Jade: Pop that shit in.

To say they are amazed by the quality of this track would be a gross understatement.

To describe this song as belonging to a particular genre would do a disservice to it, as it defies classification. All at once, it is rap and rock and chiptune and... opera? Such a combination would normally be unconventional at best, but Aradia's lovely singing voice brings the entire piece together in such a way that it commands the attention of your friends' ears for its duration.

>Jade: Exposit.

When you remember your old life on Earth, on the island with only Bec and the internet for company, you can't help but think it wasn't really a BAD life. You were taken care of, and you never really wanted for anything.

Except companionship.

It was a selfish request to make of Sburb when it asked what you wanted from the new universe you and your friends had created, but it was what you craved, more than anything else: to not be alone anymore.

You can't help but think, as Dave wraps his arm around your waist on the sofa and you rest your head on his shoulder, that the game has made good on its promise.

>Be... Gamzee, I guess? I don't think we've checked in with him yet.

You are now GAMZEE MAKARA, and you have come a long way in the last five years. You were pretty laid back until you awoke to the truth of the universe, and your memories of your time in the Medium came flooding back.

That was not a good night. If Nia hadn't been there, then... no, you'd rather not think about that. That girl has been your best motherfuckin' friend since that day, when she had more reason to despise you than anyone else. What is that, if it's not a miracle?

And this world's full of 'em. Fuckin' miracles, that is.

You haven't heard the voice in your head telling you to hurt things in years, and you know why? Motherfuckin' miracles, that's why. Okay yeah, it's the pills you started taking five years ago, and you don't really NEED them but Jegus do they help keep that bastard down. Science can maybe explain how that medicine works, but how did people find out those chemicals work together to do that in the first place? Miracles, that's fuckin' how.

How did the humans manage to rescue you and your troll buddies from the horrorterrors? Miracles. How did the sixteen of you take down Jack Noir? Miracles. How did the game know what everyone wanted the new world to be like? Okay, they fuckin' told it. But how did everything turn out so perfectly? Miracles.

So what did you want, in this new universe? Mother. Fuckin'. Miracles. It's a world where people still believe in them, because they happen every fucking day.

And that's the biggest fuckin' miracle of all.

Speaking of, your best friend wants to talk to you.

"hey, gamz33. you got a minute?"
"'CoUrSe i dO, cHiCa. AlWaYs gOt a mInUtE fOr mY FaVoRiTe lAdY."
"okay, um, come sit outside with me for a while, i have something i want to tell you about."
"HaHa nO PrObLeM, lEaD ThE MoThErFuCkIn' WaY."

>Be Kyle.

You are now KYLE VANTAS again, and you are starting to flip the fuck out.

It began when Terezi called you "Karkat" again, and you didn't notice until she pointed it out. Soon after, a vision of another world, entirely different from Alterth, flashed in your mind... and you recognized it, if only briefly.

More images enter your mind; it's a treehouse with plush dragons hanging from the branches and somehow you know it's Terezi's house. It's a world with bloody red oceans. It's Kanaya but she's glowing and holding a chainsaw and crying and apologizing for what she's about to do next. It's the sixteen of you and you're all humans except Aradia and Franziska and you KNOW you used to be different somehow and...

You look down at your hands and for an instant, they're the same gray as troll flesh. Suddenly, you understand everything.

"JOHN."
"kyle?"
"WE MADE THIS PLACE, DIDN'T WE."
"what do you mean?"
"WE PLAYED A GAME AND WHEN WE WON, WE CREATED THIS ENTIRE FUCKING WORLD."
"yeah. that's what happened."
"I REMEMBER GROWING UP ON ALTERTH, BUT I REMEMBER A LIFE ON ANOTHER WORLD, TOO. WAS MY ENTIRE LIFE UP TO NOW A LIE?"
"i don't think so. i'm pretty sure both sets of your memories actually happened! but weird time shit is dave's area, not mine."
"I AM SO FUCKING CONFUSED RIGHT NOW."
"haha so was everyone else when they remembered! but think back to when we beat sburb. we all agreed that we'd live in our new world for a while without any memory of what happened, remember?"
"I... THINK SO? BUT WHY ARE THE MEMORIES COMING BACK NOW?"
"because we wanted to remember, eventually. i guess we all just wanted normal lives for a while. but now that we all know the truth, i don't see how we can't just live our lives. i mean, the game even saw fit to ensure we'd all meet again, and even you and terezi got back together, after everything that happened!"

You punch him in the forearm, and of course he hams it up and acts like you've killed him. "HEY FUCKASS, NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS, OKAY?"
"hahahaha you crabby asshole, don't ever change!"

Bunp.

Epilogue notes:

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You have NO idea how close Karkat's human name came to being Dan. Props to anyone who knows why!

This is probably the third revision of this. I still don't think it's great because when have I ever thought that about something I wrote? But there it is and people will like it anyway because apparently the things I write are never the garbage I seem to think they are.

I am beginning to think I have impossibly high standards for myself, and the only reason I ever get anything done is sheer laziness.

Trolls and humans living together was planned from the very beginning! I said more than once, way back when there were only a couple chapters, that I was building to an epilogue like this, and that never stopped being a thing. So was the idea that they would simply live in the new world, rather than become its gods, and so was what everyone's influence on this new universe would be, and what characters would elect to be trolls, and which would be humans (though admittedly this was damn near arbitrary. I remember wanting troll!Dave and hybrid!Sollux though).

Stuff not mentioned in-fic because I couldn't find a place to mention it: Troll Dave has a unicorn horn. Feferi's lusus this time around was a giant squid. Human Vriska keeps a pet tarantula; most of the trolls who became human either have something resembling their old lusii as pets, except Karkat who has a dad who's just like him.

End-of-series Notes:

show spoiler

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Holy shit, it's over. This was probably the longest thing I ever wrote. That is simultaneously the neatest and saddest thing.

The weird thing is, I was determined to hate this from the start. Looking back at it, maybe it wasn't THAT bad (there is nothing anyone can say that will make me happy with how chapter 8 turned out though, and Feferi's rescue was just deus ex machina every-fucking-where). Every time I thought "man fuck this, this is weapons-grade bullshit and I should just delete fucking everything right now and pretend this never existed" someone would comment and be all "oh man aC I totally can't wait for the next chapter, keep it up bro" so uh thanks I guess! Because I would have given up if not for some people apparently thinking this was not the endless parade of dumb I swore my brain was vomiting onto the internet.

So what's next? Don't know! I was totally planning to ride off into the sunset and just kind of stop doing this but hahahahahaha who am I kidding, I'm hooked and there is no going back and oh god someone take me out behind the shed