Symbols.
They mean different things to different people.
A person wearing a cross can be seen as being religious.
They can be seen as being fashionable ironically.
They can be seen as being a pretentious asshole that will shove their beliefs down your throat.
It all depends on the viewer, and what they know about the symbol.
A person wearing a band tee can be seen as being deeply devoted to the band.
They can be seen as being noncommited to the band ironically.
They can be seen as being a pretentious asshole who will shove their musical tastes down your throat.
It all depends on the viewer, and what they know about the symbol.
A person wearing a certain hat backwards can be seen as being stuck in an old decade.
They can be seen as wearing a hat with a serial number emblazoned on it ironically.
They can be seen as having beaten the most difficult arcade game of all time, and proudly displaying their score on the prize they recieved.
It all depends on the viewer, and what they know about the symbol.
Hell, when all's said and done this might not even be considered fanfiction.
damnit!
okay I can't hold it any longer for politeness sakes
I neeeeed more wizardstuck! I want to find out what happens to Nepeta and her quest to become an animagus!!!
I feel lame for saying this but it's true!
"Hey! HEY! Yeah, you! Ya big ugly monster! I got something to say!"
The Black king stood over the battlefield, staring down at the rather tiny human standing in front of him. Blue hair, no shirt. Wielding an unalchemized sword. He shouldn't have been any threat at all.
"I"m sick of all your bullcrap on this planet! I'm tired of hearing about all you do to screw me, my team, and my friends over! So clean the wax outta your ears and listen good!"
The youth unsheathed his sword and pointed a single finger to the sky.
"The reputation of Team Dai-Gurren echoes across the multiverse! We are indomitable, insatiable, and in to win! You've heard of our legacy! You've heard of all we've done! Now hear THIS!"
There was a THUNK as the sword hit the ground.
"When you hear of Team Dai-Gurren, you'll hear of its badass leader! You'll hear of a man of uncrushable spirit and masculine charisma! You'll hear of the Knight of Hope! You'll hear of the great, the one and only! KAMINA!"
The ground immediately behind him broke apart, erupting and revealing a giant red mechanical warrior.
"And when they talk about that man, they're talking about ME. GURREN-LAGANN, GO!"
"Hey! HEY! Yeah, you! Ya big ugly monster! I got something to say!"
The Black king stood over the battlefield, staring down at the rather tiny human standing in front of him. Blue hair, no shirt. Wielding an unalchemized sword. He shouldn't have been any threat at all.
"I"m sick of all your bullcrap on this planet! I'm tired of hearing about all you do to screw me, my team, and my friends over! So clean the wax outta your ears and listen good!"
The youth unsheathed his sword and pointed a single finger to the sky.
"The reputation of Team Dai-Gurren echoes across the multiverse! We are indomitable, insatiable, and in to win! You've heard of our legacy! You've heard of all we've done! Now hear THIS!"
There was a THUNK as the sword hit the ground.
"When you hear of Team Dai-Gurren, you'll hear of its badass leader! You'll hear of a man of uncrushable spirit and masculine charisma! You'll hear of the Knight of Hope! You'll hear of the great, the one and only! KAMINA!"
The ground immediately behind him broke apart, erupting and revealing a giant red mechanical warrior.
"And when they talk about that man, they're talking about ME. GURREN-LAGANN, GO!"
The Black King had not anticipated this.
But he always relished a good challenge.
Interesting. Though, I'm not sure how compatible the philosophies of Gurren Lagann are with those of Sburb. I will be watching this.
Clearly Bilious Slick is literally formed from Spiral Energy...
Maybe the denizens drop Spiral Grist?
They don't need to defeat the denizens, they can create the new unierse vout of sheer manliness.
Course, they defeat the denizens ANYWAY.
AM I RITE GI-DAWG
They make the Denizens collapse (out of sheer terror) into piles of Grist with which to alchemize a Gurren large enough to fight the Black King.
Because that's the Team Dai-Gurren way.
Page of Light
"I just don't understand it, Kamina. What's so special about this disc that you just had to have Leeron install it into Dai-Gurren?"
"Relax and you'll see, Blondy. Simon and I spent all week putting that little beauty together. I'm not gonna ruin the surprise by giving it up now!"
Kamina, captain of the Dai-Gurren and the true man's man, took his seat in the Captain's Awesome Genuine Leather Chair™ at the center of the Dai-Gurren's bridge.
"Only a few more minutes anyway. So pipe down and get ready to watch the fireworks!"
A few minutes passed. Nothing happened.
"Fireworks. Any minute. It's gonna be awesome."
A few more minutes.
Kamina Manly Pressed™ the communications button on his chair arm.
"Leeron, what's taking so long? We don't have all day!"
"Well, excuse me. I don't know what's on this disk, but it's sure taking its sweet time downloading."
ding!
"Oh! It's done!"
"Took ya long enough."
----
"Listen well and listen good!"
The yellow starburst mecha cut an imposing figure against the Land of Metal and Light.
"I'm Kittan, leader of the Black Siblings and third-in-command of Team Dai-Gurren!"
The Ogres, gunman-prototyped though they were, still appeared to falter before the force of the man's bellow.
"I'm the one who united Team Gurren when we were just a bunch of ragtag rebels! And I won't lose to such pathetic foes as you!"
The mecha charged at the hapless foes, jets burning.
"KING KITTAN! GO GO GO!"
Apparently, this is a crossover from a TTGL AU where Kamina didn't die (spoiler alert) and nothing of value was lost pre-time skip.
@ Graven: I... I think I love you. Please don't stop these omg.
Obviously Kamina will die again and reach god-tier. Also why is the name Kamina suddenly working now or will they all be Leslie Nielson when I post this. I don't know. IT'S A MYSTERY.
EDIT: ... Bluh. Graven you are magical.
@ MiE 2k+11: I'M WORKING ON IT I PROMISE. If things work out how I would like, maybe even tonight or tomorrow.
Last edited by draconicAlgorithm; 05-30-2011 at 10:26 PM.
Reason: Kamina
An occasional fanfic writer and general lurker. -- Chromatica: An Ib-inspired text adventure featuring Homestuck characters
THAT IS NOT SPADES
THERE IS NO CONSENT
THAT IS LIKE SPADES RAPE
TROLLS WOULD BE DISGUSTED
Originally Posted by invalidgriffin
Where do you keep the chips, dB. Can you turn up the air conditioner? Man why is your internet so slow, it is taking forever to download all these seasons of Digimon. YES Digimon is important to the lesbians process will you stop nagging.
Originally Posted by olivia
Originally Posted by Doodled
Eridan: Hunt for fearsome beast
Very fearsome indeed.
got that bitch a wweb-cartoonist. bitches lovve wweb-cartoonists.
Fanfics
Chapter Fics
Thicker Than Blood 01234: It seemed like a pretty straightforward moraillegience. He provided her with food, she protected him from the other rainbow drinkers. Maybe if her old matesprit hadn't gotten involved, it would have stayed that way.
Wizardstuck 12345678910111213141516: The new Hogwarts students just keep getting weirder every year.
Zombiestuck KKEG (1): They thought that the Earth would be empty, ready for them to rebuild and reshape it as they saw fit. They weren't expecting that the meteors wouldn't hit everywhere, or that they might have some nasty side effects. They weren't expecting the Infected.
Don't Press Buttons (1): As usual, John does something stupid. Only this time, the result is that he becomes a troll, and Karkat becomes a human. Shenanigans ensue.
One-Shots
Blood and Noir: I'd fallen for that trap once. I wasn't going to do it again. The Road Ill Traveled: A poem about Karkat and Terezi written in the style of Robert Frost's "The Road Not Traveled". Pixie Trails: Sometimes luck doesn't even factor in. Unovastuck-Karkat vs Throh and Sawk: Apparently, a Sawk is faster than a Throh. Faster than a Braviary too. Karkat finds out the hard way. Kore Wa Troll Desu Ka?: Includes crossdressing and magical girl transformations. Karkat was not pleased. The Lawyer and the Goddess: Vriska and Terezi are having a very important chat when they get interrupted by a certain juggalo. Prompt Dunp: A group of several short fics I wrote based on prompts, including Tavros and Bro sharing tea, Slick talking with Jade about (briefly) hobbits, and Dave finding a birthday gift for Rose. Tears: Getting stabbed in the chest once sucks. Getting stabbed in the chest twice really sucks. Prey: Nepeta is a clever kitty. Yes: In a moment of weakness, Rose consults her magical cue ball. My Little Sis: An alt!kids fic about Bro raising blue!Jade. Based off of MSB's AU roleplay. Funhouse: John really, REALLY doesn't like clowns. Or music by Pink. Ice Cubes: Bro talks to Nanna before his fated battle with Jack. INDIGO and CaNdY rEd: An altblood pesterlog, featuring mutant Gamzee and indigo Karkat. Kantostuck: John wants to be the very best. Like no one ever was. Disease Called Friendship: Karkat has had a bad time with friends. The Demon: Death sometimes comes in the form you'd least expect. Hope: Even the Prince of Hope doesn't understand it. Hoststuck: Yeah, I don't really know either. Coulrophobia: HONK HONK MOTHERFUCKER Do: Killer: He stalks in the darkness, waiting. Waiting. Awaken: It's hard, being a rainbowdrinker. It's hard and no one understands. Kitten: Hearts Boxcars adopts an adorable kitten. Misery Loves Company: Terezi gives the bad news, and finds out some bad news of her own. Tend the Living: Gogdammit Hussie I hate you. Doll: It's actually a very good thing that Vriska allowed Bec to be prototyped. Don't Die On Me: Terezi discovers a new reason to hate Vriska. BL1ND Buddiie2: Sollux consults Terezi on the best method of seeing without sight. Cold: Dave decides to take a little time out to go see Jade.
So I've, uh, never written a fanfic. Ever. For anything. As a matter of fact, it's been sometime since I've written any kind of story. But I was archive binging Nepetaquest 2011 the other day, and this page struck me. Vriska and Nepeta seem like they should have more of a history than they do. So...yeah. Plus, how often do you get to write in second person?
> Be The Huge Bitch
You cannot do it. You cannot be the huge bitch.
There's a girl curled up on your sofa now, sobbing into her little blue kitty hood. It's not your blue, it's her moirail's blue. But it's not even that, it's the pelt of some beast, skinned from its bloody corpse by the very same girl. The way she wears it, though, with her constant stupid smile, what used to be the beast's jaw snugly wrapped around her ruffled, uncombed hair, you never could have guessed getting that fur nearly killed her. You raise your hand, your mouth opens, ever so slightly. You want to explain. She doesn't even look at you. She swallows a whimper, pale green saline soaking in the dark blue pelt.
It's four days ago, and arsenicCatnip is replying with purrked interest to your latest victory post. She's never heard of FLARP. What a fun purrtend game, she thinks. Damn girl loves to purrtend. You can't tell where her character ends and the troll begins, and you're not sure she does either. You glance at your crayon drawing of the Marquise and you're not sure you do. You play and you chat and they're more or less the same, until the first rays of the sun start to shine through the canyons. Your farewells are brief, like old friends who know they'll meet again. Tomorrow, with any luck. The recuperacoon envelops you, your racing thoughts (Did I come on too strong? I didn't seem flushed, did I? Was I too heavy on the 8's?) slowing and slodging in the cool slime, and at the threshold of sleep one remains. Friend?
It's three days ago, and you're tromping up the stairs, clothes stained with blood, red and yellow and green and blue. Lots of blue. One hand is soaked in the blue, holding the hole in your shirt and your abdomen shut. The other hand has eight tiny diamonds branded in the palm, clenched down hard around your partners in crime. You slump against the wall, panting, glancing out the window. Your beloved lusus is still digesting today's catch. Good for her. You haven't eaten all day. Too busy playing.
You nurse your wound and fill your stomach, your computer incessantly blinking the whole time. Purple and teal and pink and green. The seadw(wwwwwww)ellers thanking you, for feeding lusii to the lusus and your teammate giggling and high fiving your absent self and making faces and getting bored and leaving. And the girl, leaving vari8ions on ":33 < are you there?" all day.
"Yes."
Her moirail won't let her play FLARP, even after she spent all day making the purrfect character. You take the offensive - why does she let him boss her around like that? She retaliates - she's passionate, very passionate, about everything, especially passion. She gives the impression that she's constantly analyzing and evaluating the relationships and social lives of everyone around her. And maybe just a little lonely. Probably from living in a cave.
Doesn't matter, you say. She should come over sometime. You have lots of gaaaaaaaames you both can play.
":33"
It's two days ago, or is it one? They pass in a flash. You have your partners working double overtime with you. The legisclerator condemns the guilty with her cane. She may be the judge and the jury, but you are the executioner. It's you. It's later. You stand on the bow of your ship, wind whipping out your coat, as a blue blade splits the other team's hull in half, red and yellow and green billowing in the water, the seabeast neighing furiously as its rider forces the survivors up the gangplank. Normally, you would personally feed them to her, but there's plenty to spare and you just bind them all down. She's a big girl, she can live for a day or two without getting spoonfed like a wriggler and if she can't and she dies you'll personally cull her back to life.
It's earlier today, and Nepeta Leijon looks exactly like you pictured she did. You're not sure if that surprises you or not. She's thinking the same thing (you idly wonder if reading her mind is rude), but then again your drawing of Marquise is your avatar. You smile. For once, it's not a grin. You just purrrrrrrrk your lips. It's been so long since you've had a vacation. You idly wonder if you ever have.
You play Labyrinths and Leviathans, and she matches your dungeons point for point, even if she does stop after every grief to talk with herself, with a different voice for every character. You play Cullhammer, and she sees your pincer manuever coming from a mile away. You drop the rules and just play silly purrtend. It is incredibly silly. You watch a trashy romantic comedy you stole from a friend's house, and mock it the whole way through. And after she's all tuckpurred out (all right, she says, I was trying a little too hard on that one, she laughs) she makes a pile of your books and your clothes while you're in the other room and curls up on it. She pats the spot next to her with her silly, not real tail and beckons you over.
She nuzzles up against you, your bodies forming a groove in your jackets and pants and a blue-stained black shirt with a hole in the middle. You talk, about your characters and your campaigns, and your friends and their stupid hobbies. She talks about her lusus, you dodge the subject. She assures you her lusus is incredibly adorable, as she wonders where yours is. The air hangs silent for a moment.
:33 < *nepeta gently purrds the sl33py spidergirl with her wet nose*
*The Marquise 8links, yawning and stretching, arching her 8ack in the clothespile.* Yeeeeeeees?
:33 < *nepeta asks whats wrong, vriska? you got all quiet!*
That's...all I have to say right now, I guess.
:33 < *nepeta crinkles her nose and looks a little crestfallen*
:33 < if you say so vriska but if you change your mind im right here.
:33 < thats what friends are fur right?
...r8.
In a few moments, you're going to fall asleep. She won't, and she'll be curious. She'll look through your things, and wonder why your dice swung a sword at her when she rolled them. She'll peek through a FLARP book, and wonder why it talks so much about combat, but there aren't any rules for it. And then, she'll look out the window, and see the spoils of your victory in mid-digestion.
But it was worth it.
Some critique would be appreciated. In particular, I wrote this pretty much stream-of-consciousness and I'm concerned the prose is too flowery, or too short, or too out of character.
Chumhandle is cowboyEmpiricist. Feel free to contact me for roleplay or OOC chat, though my text will remain indecipherable either way.
oh hi fic thread! it has been awhile. just popping in to drop a new dave/jade thing i have been sitting on for six months. it was originally written for lexxy's mad adorable 'gotta find jade' comic and then words happened whoops. wanted to play around a bit with a side that isn't angst but not all sunshine and gumdrops either and this is the result. my bad.
Alerts sounded across the walking battleship Dai-Gurren.
"Wh-what?"
"Simon!"
Kamina's voice sounded in Simon's commlink.
"This is it, buddy! This is what we've been waiting for! Start up that Lagann of yours and get ready to head out!"
"Bro, what? I thought we had a week left before we had to do any of-"
"Simon, if you spent your whole life waiting to make sure, you'd never get anything done! I changed the plans and made them fit my own schedule! We're going RIGHT NOW!"
"Uh... Right! Right, let's do it!"
clomp clomp clomp
Out to the hangar, where the pint-sized Lagann waited, docile as ever.
"Simon!"
A small blue Core Drill, almost exactly the same as his own, fell from the catwalk above.
"You're not gonna get anywhere without this thing!"
On that catwalk, Kamina stood, garbed in his infamous red cape and shades.
"So plug it in and let's go! There's a whole world waiting for us!"
"B-Bro, where are we going, exactly?"
"Shut up and hit it, Simon! We don't have time to waste clarifying things!"
Simon took a good look at the blue drill bit Kamina had given him. It was almost identical to his own, but different. And made of... crystal?
"Alright... let's do it!"
CHUNK
VRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR
And then Simon and the Lagann were gone.
----
"LAGANN...
IMPACT!"
The five-foot minimech drilled into and replaced the head of its twentieth ogre that day. The monster's body immediately took on the Team Dai-Gurren red, yellow, and black, and swung around to belt its nearest former comrade in the face.
"You threaten my friends..."
WHUD
"You've tried to kill me so many times I've lost count!"
THOOM
"You took Kamina from us... AGAIN!"
CRUNCH
"I'M SENDING EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU BASTARDS STRAIGHT TO HELL IF IT'S THE LAST THING I EVER DO!"
The former Ogre's arms resolved into impossibly long drills, impaling and shredding at least twelve of the abominations at once.
"S... Simon."
"What!?"
The Lagann Ogre stopped attacking mindlessly for a brief moment.
Well, I said I would try to get the next Wizardstuck done for last night or today, and it didn't happen last night, so today it is. Also, Animagus is probably going to be more like five parts rather than two or three. I'm horrible at planning these sorts of things out.
Wizardstuck: Animagus 2
Much to Nepeta's chagrin, there wasn't more time that day to go back to the library and begin looking for the new books. She had to catch up on the classes she had missed that day first, and, after dinner, work on assignments. She had to admit to herself, however, that it was probably just as well. By the time she had finished everything for her classes, she was exhausted. The little cat nap in the library hadn't been nearly enough sleep after a night completely without. In spite of her excitement, she fell asleep quickly.
The next morning, she intended to go straight to the library, but it seemed that her fellow Griffindor had other ideas. As she stepped out of the portrait hole and into the hallway, she turned in the direction of the library, only to but stopped by an arm looping around hers. She glanced back to find Vriska grinning down at her.
"Vriskers!" She said, surprised. "What are mew doing?"
"Just making sure you stop and actually get something for breakfast," she said slyly. "C'mon, the Great Hall's this way." She tugged on the smaller troll, but Nepeta held firm.
"No, I'm stalking back to the library! I furround out about some mew books—"
"They'll still be there after you eat. Now come oooooooon!" To her chagrin, Nepeta found herself being dragged towards the Great Hall regardless of what she wanted. Vriska was bigger and stronger than her, it seemed, and Nepeta also felt the slightest bit of something pushing against her mind. She glared up at Vriska, who just smirked back. Nepeta wasn't highblooded enough to resist Vriska's mind tricks, and it looked like Vriska wasn't above using them to get what she wanted. With a resigned sigh, Nepeta followed her.
As they walked in, Nepeta saw Vriska look up towards the Slytherin table. Following her gaze, she saw Equius staring directly at them. He nodded once. Vriska grinned, and Nepeta smiled as well, though internally she was seething. She could take care of herself! She didn’t need her moirail hiring out Vriska to look after her! In an attempt to nail this point home, she sat beside Dave rather huffily and began piling her usual morning meal onto her plate—as much meat as she could grab and a slice of toast. Dave, who was delicately eating a lightly toasted bagel smeared with cream cheese (ironically of course), turned to her and raised a single eyebrow.
"Whoa, Nep," he said once he'd swallowed the bite in his mouth. "What's got your tail all up in a twist?" Nepeta opened her mouth to reply, but she was interrupted by Vriska.
"She's just mad because I made her eat breakfast," the other troll girl sneered. Nepeta growled in response. Dave gave Sollux, who was sitting across from him, a bemused glance (or as bemused a glance as the cool kid ever gave), and the other boy simply nodded in unspoken agreement. The two stood quickly and left the table, absconding before the catfight inevitably escalated.
Nepeta simply glared down at her food, tearing into it not out of hunger but out of anger. Slowly, though, that subsided as she realized that Vriska (or rather, Equius through Vriska) was only trying to help. He didn't mean to be acting like her lusus. It was just his way of showing his pity. It didn't stop it from making her angry sometimes, though!
Looking up, Nepeta realized that Vriska was staring at her silently, an amused grin on her face. Her anger flaring up again, Nepeta bared her teeth.
"What's so funny?" She asked, foregoing the opportunity to sneak in a pun out of anger. Vriska grinned.
"Just your face. It's amusing to watch you go from angry to ashamed when you realize you're in the wrong." Nepeta wracked her brain for a scathing reply, but before she could come up with one, Vriska continued with, "Equius is gone, by the way, and since he's seen you, I won't keep you here." Nepeta immediately turned around and found that Equius had, in fact, left. Without further preamble, she promptly got up, leaving her breakfast half eaten, and scurried out of the Great Hall. She heard Vriska shout, "Heh, good luck with that pet project of yours!" She ignored it and hurried to the library.
Unsurprisingly, the library was pretty empty early in the morning. Most people preferred to visit later in the day, since those who awoke early in the morning only did so to make it to class. Nepeta, at least, was not skipping a class that day. She didn't have one for another hour. That should, she reasoned, give her plenty of time to find the books she needed and maybe even start reading them. She could sort of guess from the titles of the books what sections of the library they would be in, so she didn't need to consult the creepy librarian again. Permanent Spellcasting would almost certainly be in the charms section, so that was where she decided to go first.
The books were, unfortunately, sorted in alphabetical order by author rather than title, so Nepeta was forced to look through the whole section. There was some sorting by topic as well, but Nepeta didn't know what topic it would be under. With the paper on which the titles were scribbled on in hand, Nepeta began to look. She had no luck on one side of the bookcase, and as she walked around to the other side, she saw that sitting at the table near the shelf she was checking through was Rose. The human girl had her back to her with her nose in a book, but Nepeta recognized her regardless.
"Hi Rose!" She said with a smile. Rose started slightly before turning to her with a polite smile, book in hand.
"Hello Nepeta," she said. "What brings you to the library so early this morning?" Nepeta didn't answer immediately. Instead, her eyes were on the book in Rose's hand. On the spine, she could just barely see the faded print that read The Art of Permanent Spellcasting.
Of course Rose had the book she was looking for.
"Nepeta?" Rose said again, jolting the troll out of her surprise.
"Oh! Uh, yes. I was looking for a purrticular book, catually. That book." She nodded to it, causing Rose to raise an eyebrow.
"Really? And why were you looking for this book?" Nepeta paled a bit, her mind scrabbling for a reason aside from the truth.
"I am, um, reading it for a class. Mew know. Charms." That sounded good. Charms had to do with spellcasting, right? Rose didn't look impressed.
"Nepeta, you are a terrible liar," she said with a knowing smile. "Professor Flitwick would never have beginners in Charms reading this book. A great deal of these spells go over my head, let alone yours, and I'm reading it out of interest. What is your real reason for wanting this book?" Nepeta sighed in resignation. She should have known it would be impossible to sneak this past Rose. She slid into the seat across from the Ravenclaw.
"Well, mew see, it sort of started when I furround out what an animagus was," she began. Rose nodded sympathetically.
"Ah, I see. And of course you wanted to become one. Correct?" Nepeta nodded in return.
"Well, of course! Who wouldn't want to be able to transfurrm into an impawsibly adorable kitten? But I couldn't find any books on how to do it, only one that was a biography of someone who was one. Then, I found this note in the back cover of the book." Nepeta took the yellowed slip of paper out of her pocket and slid it across the table. Rose took it gingerly, reading the scrawls in interest.
"Fascinating," she said. "It seems you were not the first student with this interest, or else these 'Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs' characters would not have set up this rather interesting book hunt." She passed the paper back to Nepeta. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to look and see what this book has to say on the matter, and why they would direct you to it." Rose set the book down on the table and quickly flipped to the table of contents. She scanned the entries, with Nepeta doing her best to read upside down, until she finally found what she was looking for.
"'The Art of the Animagus', page 125. It looks as though your anonymous benefactors were correct." Nepeta only just kept herself from squealing.
"Oh, Rose, quick, quick! Turn to that page!" With a humoring smile, Rose did just that, and Nepeta all but pounced over the table in her hurry to get to Rose's side.
The spell for the transformation of an animagus is one of the most complex of our time. In fact, it is not even entirely a spell at all. It is a carefully crafted and executed set of steps involving many forms of magic. One must have a carefully prepared potion, an expertly drawn diagram complete with a number of spell runes and arithmantic calculations, and finally a spell that in and of itself is very arduous and precise. It is an immense undertaking for any wizard and it is suggested that only those most sure of the need of such a transformation even attempt it. Below I have outlined the major steps needed to complete this most permanent of spells, but specific details must, I am afraid, be procured from other sources.
The rest of the entry was an explanation of the steps of the spell as well as a list of the timely events that must be met, such as the alignment of certain planets and the presence of what the book called a "blue moon," which startled and confused Nepeta. Did Earth have a second moon that she didn't know about? She tried to read the rest of the steps, but she quickly found herself getting entirely lost. There was something about the potion, though it never explained how to make that potion, and more about "arithmancy" and other big, fancy terms she didn't understand. It was all quite daunting.
"Wow," she said finally, staring forlornly at the text.
"Wow indeed," Rose agreed. "You have certainly chosen the difficult undertaking, Nepeta."
"I… I didn't think it would be this hard," the cat girl confessed. "What can I do? I don't even undpurrstand half of these words!" Dejectedly, she laid her head down on the table. Rose, however, continued to read over the text carefully.
"Well," she said finally, after a long moment. "Do you intend to give up?" Nepeta's head shot up.
"No! No way! It just… might take a bit longer than I furrst thought!" Or a lot longer, she thought as she looked back at the list again. "But I'll definitely do it!"
"Well then, maybe I'll help." Nepeta blinked at the other girl, wide eyed.
"What… really, Rose? Mew'd be willing to help?"
"As a purely academic endeavor," she clarified. "I have no interest in transforming into an animal, cute kitten or otherwise. But the process is intriguing. I've never seen a spell so complex, and, to be quite honest, I am almost itching to attempt to perform it." She turned her eyes from the book and smiled at Nepeta. "Yes, I do believe I would be willing to help." Nepeta squealed excitedly as she grabbed Rose in a tackle hug, nearly knocking the poor girl out of her chair. Rose managed to grab the edge of the table and steady herself before they both went tumbling.
"Oh, Rose, you are the greatest! The best!" Rose gave her a moment to get the joy out of her system before responding.
"Yes, thank you, Nepeta, though I do believe we might need to add one more member to our 'party', as it were." Nepeta released her, looking interested.
"Who?"
"Jade," Rose replied. "There are aspects of magic that, I must admit, I do not understand. In particular, the author mentions arithmancy. To be blunt with you, what little I have read of arithmancy is outside my capabilities, but, perhaps, not outside Jade's. Hers is a mind more mathematical than mine, and that, I did deduce, is the essence of arithmancy. If anyone could work this out, it would be her." Then, she smiled. "Also, I think Jade would be very much interested in the outcome of the spell as well. She has always had a love for animals." Nepeta grinned.
"Yeah! Mew're right, Jade would love this!"
"But for now, I think we should set aside our project and focus instead on schoolwork." Rose looked down at the watch on her wrist, one that still worked on school grounds due to it functioning entirely on clockwork. "It is nearly time for my first class, and, I presume, yours as well."
"Oh! Yeah." Nepeta faltered slightly, though it wasn't long before her grin was back in full force. "Anyway, when should we try to do more research on this?"
"I have a free period after lunch," Rose said. "I can talk to Jade in the meantime and get her onboard with the project." Nepeta nodded.
"I have furee time then too! We can get together then." With the rendezvous planned, the two girls parted ways. Nepeta, still feeling quite giddy and excited, hurried to her class, which just happened to be Transfiguration.
The class period seemed to crawl by, partly from Nepeta's excitement and partly from the fact that she was acutely aware she had only eaten half her breakfast. The bird that she and Dave were attempting to transform into a platter was beginning to look pretty tasty. As her eyes traced its movement across the table, Dave attempted to make small talk.
"So, you seem in a better mood."
"Hm?" She said, paying much more attention to the bird.
"This morning," Dave clarified. "You don't seem so bitchy." Nepeta laughed.
"Yeah, sorry! I just really needed to get to the library." Dave raised an eyebrow at that.
"What for? Looking up some new recipes for filleting defenseless birds?" He directed the bird just out of reach of her claws with his wand, causing her to pout at him.
"No! I'm catually interested in becoming an animagus." After telling Rose, Nepeta decided that the secret really wasn't that much of a secret anymore. Then again, Dave wasn't one to gossip, either. He probably wouldn't tell anyone.
"What did you go all the way to the library for?" He asked. "You don't even have to read a book to find out something about animagi. Or didn't you know that McGongall was one?" He nodded his head towards the powerful if wrinkled form of their instructor. Nepeta stared at her with mouth agape and eyes wide.
"She… she is? I had no idea!"
"Yup," Dave said. "I've never seen her transform, but I've heard around, y'know. Anyway…" He waved his wand and spoke the words of the spell. A flash of light and the bird stopped mid step. It wobbled on one foot for a moment before the feathers slicked down into silver and the bird's body melted and reformed itself as a platter. "And that's how you do it."
"Good job, Mr. Strider," the two Gryffindors heard their teacher say. McGonagall walked briskly over to their desk and waved her wand. When she did, the platter reformed again, becoming a dove once more. "Now try to add your own personal touch." Dave frowned just the slightest bit, though he didn't say anything. Nepeta, on the other hand, had something else entirely on her mind.
"Professor," she said, "is it true that you're an animagus?" Professor McGonagall stared at Nepeta for a long moment, making the troll girl feel rather uncomfortable, until she finally nodded.
"Yes, I am a cat animagus. Why do you ask?" Nepeta squealed internally at the revelation. Her head of house was not only an animagus, but a cat animagus!
"I was just curious about them and I hadn't heard that you were!" She said with a smile. The professor gave a slight smile back before her face was once again all business.
"It is a difficult art, Miss Leijon, becoming an animagus. I did not master it until I was well out of this school. I suggest you dedicate yourself to your studies instead. And for now, keep trying to transform this bird before you worry about transforming yourself." She waved her wand over the platter on their desk, and, almost quicker than they could see, it was once more a bird, its feathers fluffed out in agitation.
"Oh, uh, yes, professor!" Nepeta said quickly as McGonagall walked away.
Nepeta was finally able to transform the bird once before the end of class, and Dave managed a red-tinged platter with an indention in the middle in the shape of a broken record. As she left, however, Nepeta still felt light and airy. In spite of McGonagall's words, she was still determined to figure out how to become an animagus. She didn't think she could really wait until she was done with her classes at Hogwarts. She was just too excited!
And, after all, she would have Rose and Jade to help her. What could go wrong?
Aaaand I've also got a short reaction fic because I love doing those for some reason.
Pixie Trails
As Vriska sailed through the inky blackness of the Veil on her sapphire god-tier wings, she felt untouchable.
She was ready for this fight. She felt it in her rigid calcium-based support structure that she would be successful, that she would save her remaining friends and defeat Jack Noir. It was her destiny. She had created him, and so she would destroy him. Poetic justice never failed. Neither did luck. Not when you were a god.
It didn't take her long to find him. He was standing forlornly on a smaller meteor, attempting to hack it in half with his sword, likely out of sheer boredom. She grinned. He wouldn't be bored for much longer.
She zoomed towards him, stopping mere feet away, though she was still high enough above him to hold her place of superiority. She pointed down at him haughtily.
"Jack," she hissed, having practiced this speech in her mind so many times that it felt like second nature to her. "I've had enough of your wanton destruction. Your time ends now. I, Vriska Serket, created you through my own machinations, and so I will destroy you by my own hands!" He stared up at her with that dog face and, for a moment, she almost thought he might be unable to understand speech, or perhaps unable to understand troll speech, having come from the humans' session. That would have been a let down. She flew around him and finally came to rest on the meteor itself, still wondering.
But no. He simply cocked his head to one side and raised the eyebrow on his good eye. Slowly, his lips peeled back to reveal a mouth full of long, jagged teeth, seemingly too long and jagged for any Earth canine. Internally, Vriska faltered, but outwardly, she stayed looking in control.
"That's great, toots," Jack finally said, the familiar voice sneaking through those teeth in a way that Vriska almost didn't believe possible. "You've got no idea how fucking ecstatic I am that one of you wimps finally built up the nerve to come challenge me. But, y'see, I gotta take priorities here. Why would I fight you now when I can follow that cute little pixie trail o' yours back to your friends and slaughter them first?" Vriska didn't have an answer to that. He just grinned, winked one eye, and leaped off the edge of the meteor. Vriska watched in shock as he flew away, following the faint blue trail her wings had left in space. Eventually, his outline flashed to green, and then he was gone. Slowly, Terezi's words of caution came flooding back to her.
"He will follow your sugary pixie trail with his keen canine snout."
"Well shit." With her grin now a scowl, she took a running leap off the edge of the meteor as well and flew as fast as her wings could carry her back the way she had come. With a little luck, maybe she'd make it there in time to keep him from killing everyone, but just then, Vriska Serket wasn't feeling so lucky.
An occasional fanfic writer and general lurker. -- Chromatica: An Ib-inspired text adventure featuring Homestuck characters
THAT IS NOT SPADES
THERE IS NO CONSENT
THAT IS LIKE SPADES RAPE
TROLLS WOULD BE DISGUSTED
Originally Posted by invalidgriffin
Where do you keep the chips, dB. Can you turn up the air conditioner? Man why is your internet so slow, it is taking forever to download all these seasons of Digimon. YES Digimon is important to the lesbians process will you stop nagging.
Originally Posted by olivia
Originally Posted by Doodled
Eridan: Hunt for fearsome beast
Very fearsome indeed.
got that bitch a wweb-cartoonist. bitches lovve wweb-cartoonists.
Fanfics
Chapter Fics
Thicker Than Blood 01234: It seemed like a pretty straightforward moraillegience. He provided her with food, she protected him from the other rainbow drinkers. Maybe if her old matesprit hadn't gotten involved, it would have stayed that way.
Wizardstuck 12345678910111213141516: The new Hogwarts students just keep getting weirder every year.
Zombiestuck KKEG (1): They thought that the Earth would be empty, ready for them to rebuild and reshape it as they saw fit. They weren't expecting that the meteors wouldn't hit everywhere, or that they might have some nasty side effects. They weren't expecting the Infected.
Don't Press Buttons (1): As usual, John does something stupid. Only this time, the result is that he becomes a troll, and Karkat becomes a human. Shenanigans ensue.
One-Shots
Blood and Noir: I'd fallen for that trap once. I wasn't going to do it again. The Road Ill Traveled: A poem about Karkat and Terezi written in the style of Robert Frost's "The Road Not Traveled". Pixie Trails: Sometimes luck doesn't even factor in. Unovastuck-Karkat vs Throh and Sawk: Apparently, a Sawk is faster than a Throh. Faster than a Braviary too. Karkat finds out the hard way. Kore Wa Troll Desu Ka?: Includes crossdressing and magical girl transformations. Karkat was not pleased. The Lawyer and the Goddess: Vriska and Terezi are having a very important chat when they get interrupted by a certain juggalo. Prompt Dunp: A group of several short fics I wrote based on prompts, including Tavros and Bro sharing tea, Slick talking with Jade about (briefly) hobbits, and Dave finding a birthday gift for Rose. Tears: Getting stabbed in the chest once sucks. Getting stabbed in the chest twice really sucks. Prey: Nepeta is a clever kitty. Yes: In a moment of weakness, Rose consults her magical cue ball. My Little Sis: An alt!kids fic about Bro raising blue!Jade. Based off of MSB's AU roleplay. Funhouse: John really, REALLY doesn't like clowns. Or music by Pink. Ice Cubes: Bro talks to Nanna before his fated battle with Jack. INDIGO and CaNdY rEd: An altblood pesterlog, featuring mutant Gamzee and indigo Karkat. Kantostuck: John wants to be the very best. Like no one ever was. Disease Called Friendship: Karkat has had a bad time with friends. The Demon: Death sometimes comes in the form you'd least expect. Hope: Even the Prince of Hope doesn't understand it. Hoststuck: Yeah, I don't really know either. Coulrophobia: HONK HONK MOTHERFUCKER Do: Killer: He stalks in the darkness, waiting. Waiting. Awaken: It's hard, being a rainbowdrinker. It's hard and no one understands. Kitten: Hearts Boxcars adopts an adorable kitten. Misery Loves Company: Terezi gives the bad news, and finds out some bad news of her own. Tend the Living: Gogdammit Hussie I hate you. Doll: It's actually a very good thing that Vriska allowed Bec to be prototyped. Don't Die On Me: Terezi discovers a new reason to hate Vriska. BL1ND Buddiie2: Sollux consults Terezi on the best method of seeing without sight. Cold: Dave decides to take a little time out to go see Jade.
Sarasvati - One day you will stop being amazing. Fortunately for us, today is not that day. Awesome stuff.
And so yeah. I'm not dead, just sleeping. Fortunately, I must have been sleepwriting, because I've got for you some more
Hot Blooded: Chapter 13
Tarfus stilled, hardly daring to breathe, while his mind raced in circles. How…?
How had this man he’d never met gotten one of those badges? How was it possible that any still existed after the disastrous attack on the Imperial palace had failed so miserably? Surely the Empress would have sent the subjuggalators, or even her own guardemolishers to raid the hive they’d been using as a base of operations? All of the others were dead; he was sure of it. How then, was it possible that a badge had not only survived, but made its way into the possession of a mysterious blueblood in a little over a night?
Unless…
One of his revolutionaries, a yellowblood named Atenor had been the source of a significant portion of their funding. He’d always said that he had connections in high places. Tarfus had always refrained from asking further; the less he knew, the safer he was. That way if he was captured, his inevitable and excruciating torture at the hands of the subjuggalators wouldn’t reveal vital information.
Was it possible that this troll was Atenor’s mysterious benefactor? Tarfus had explicitly forbidden anyone from handing out those “idiotic fucking merit badges” to anyone else. He had nearly beheaded the person responsible for their creation when he found out about them. Everybody else had liked the idea though, so he’d scowled and let it pass. It was entirely possible that Atenor had given a badge to his blueblood friend with the deep pockets.
If so, it was almost too good to be true. He was surrounded on all sides by enemies, and suddenly here was this wealthy savior out of the blue wielding proof of his supposed loyalty, willing to offer Tarfus some nebulous promise of safety.
It was too good to be true, wasn’t it…
There was no way the other troll had just spotted Tarfus on a whim and put two and two together. It was just too convenient. He must have been looking for him earlier in the hall, or someone like him. He’d gotten close so he could get a good look at Tarfus’ injuries to confirm a suspicion.
Beware those who seek to gain your trust…
The Empress’ words echoed through Tarfus’ head. But what if she had anticipated something like this? What if it was her plan to make him suspicious, to alienate him from those who would seek to help him? But this was crazy; handing over a badge was one thing, but he would’ve known if Atenor had revealed their plot. Tarfus had known every member of his little band inside and out; Atenor had never been a very good liar, and he trusted him completely.
The same way you trusted Auva? whispered a little voice in the back of his mind.
“Where did you get this?” Tarfus demanded.
The other troll’s smile was full of smug derision. “Oh, now you’re interested aren’t you? I’m willing to bet that you’d give an arm to find out where I—hrngk!”
Tarfus’ patience for long, self-important diatribes had run out approximately yesternight; he expressed his frustration by exploding off the floor and wrapping his good hand around the other troll’s throat. This served the dual purpose of injuring the other troll and shutting him up.
“I have had the shittiest week,” Tarfus snarled, “So here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to loosen my grip around your chitinous windhole, and you’re going to answer my questions. If I hear anything come out of your speaking orifice that doesn’t sound like an answer, I start breaking bones. Understand?!” Tarfus punctuated his shout with a squeeze around the other troll’s neck.
The other troll scrabbled useless at Tarfus’ hand for a moment, but Tarfus ignored it. Finally, the other troll nodded.
“Good. Now first of all, what’s your name, you hideous nookstench?” Tarfus relaxed his grip fractionally.
“C-Corvus,” he wheezed.
“Corvus. That is the worst name I’ve ever heard, and I’m sorry I have to pollute my mouth by saying it. Second question; why did you kidnap me?”
“D-didn’t kidnap,” Corvus gasped.
Tarfus sighed and threw Corvus to the ground before driving the full weight of his body behind his knees and into Corvus’ gut. Corvus had been mid-gasp and exhaled explosively. Tarfus straddled Corvus’s torso, then calmly reached over and grabbed one of his fingers. With a jerk, it snapped and Corvus convulsed, uttering a breathy groan of pain.
“I told you: answers, or there’ll be more broken bones. Why. Did. You. Kidnap me,” Tarfus said, returning his hand to Corvus’ throat.
Corvus’ eyes darted back and forth frantically, refusing to meet Tarfus’ gaze. Tarfus squeezed again and he squeaked. “Okay! Was…ordered!”
Tarfus muttered a curse under his breath. Cryptogrubs were cutting edge biotech and, in his opinion, utter idiocy. He’d field-tested early versions of them in the threshecutioners and had not been impressed. Cryptogrubs were produced in pairs, each individual part of a matched set. Each grub was capable of recording a message, encoding it, and then laying an egg containing the encoded message. The message could then only be played back if fed to its twin, which would digest the egg and repeat the message. Tarfus had hated them. They were irritating to use, suffered from poor audio quality and were, quite frankly, a bitch to keep alive. And really, whose bright idea had it been to make sensitive messages play back audibly? They had quickly been deemed a failure and his legion had returned to more traditional methods.
But it appeared that the grubs had found a market in the pompous upper class with more money than sense. Corvus was exactly the kind of person to throw money at this useless extravagance. Grasping at straws, Tarfus asked, “What did they sound like then, dammit?”
“Don’t know…masked their voice…”
Tarfus sighed in disgust, then grabbed Corvus by the hair and rammed his skull against the ground. Corvus’ struggle to remain conscious came to an abrupt end and he went limp. Tarfus stood up and checked himself. Nothing damaged, though he could feel a pounding headache coming on. He would’ve thought that all the cranial trauma he’d suffered over the sweeps would have rendered him immune by now, but he was not so fortunate.
He examined the room for anything worth stealing, reading, or destroying. He was disappointed. An immaculately clean desk, something that Tarfus always imagined was the sign of a disturbed mind. The table in the corner he’d woken up on; why did Corvus even have a table large enough to hold a troll, anyway? Other than those two objects, the room was compulsively tidy. All the drawers in the desk were locked, and Tarfus had neither the tools nor the time to break them open. Corvus probably didn’t keep anything incriminating in them anyway, much less his cryptogrub.
Tarfus crossed to the door, opened it, paused, and closed it again. He turned to Corvus and snatched the badge from his unresisting hands, gave him a kick in the ribs for good measure then left the room.
He emerged into a carpeted hallway, deserted save for ornamental plinths paced within alcoves at regular intervals. The dominant color seemed to be blue—light blue walls, navy carpeting, teal accents. Tarfus guessed that he was on one of the upper floors; too blue for royalty and he didn’t feel the crushing pressure of the ocean bearing down from above.
It was a moment’s work to spot the servants’ access tucked away into a corner at the end of the hall and slip inside. He nodded absently at a troll descending the stairs and made his way to the upper floor’s landing. No stairs led further up, so either this stairwell didn’t reach the top floor, or his hunch had been right. The tiny plaque beside the door confirmed his suspicions; twelfth floor.
Inside the hall, the décor matched the intended occupants: thicker carpeting, darker shades of blue edging toward indigo, more scenes of famous battles on the walls, fewer artistic sculptures.
Tarfus did his best to ignore the scenery and focused instead on the numbers on each of the doors. What had Lucida said? One twenty-six? He was standing before number one-ten right now, so that’d put Almesian’s room at the other end of the hall. He started forward, but paused as he hard the click of a door opening down the hall. A short, heavily muscled troll emerged from the door before turning to lock it behind him. Tarfus froze as the new troll turned to face him. Painted in white on the newcomer’s face was the visage of a skull.
A laughssassin.
Tarfus kept walking, adamantly refusing to make eye contact. His vascular pump beat wildly in his chest, but he schooled his expression into the familiar soldier’s mask of indifference. He’d never had the misfortune to engage a laughssassin in combat, but he’d seen them fight. Fighting even the fiercest of enemy soldiers was far preferable to fighting one of the subjuggalators’ elite assassins. With a soldier, Tarfus at least knew what to expect; the other bastard would try to kill him while avoiding dying himself. With a laughssassin there were no such reservations about self-preservation. They would wade into the thick of battle cackling madly, their only goal to paint the ground in as many colors as they could. He’d only seen a laughssassin in action once, and that had been enough. The laughssassin had torn off his assailant’s lower jaw and then used it to gouge out the other troll’s eyes, laughing wildly the entire time. The laughssassin wore the jaw as a hat afterward. Tarfus had been a soldier for two sweeps at that point, a veteran by any reckoning, and the debacle had still unsettled him.
He gritted his teeth and continued staring straight ahead. Don’t show fear, don’t even acknowledge him and maybe he’ll pay you the same favor. The laughssassin wasn’t even looking at Tarfus; he was still facing the door, doing something with his key. Tarfus was five paces away; the laughssassin had stopped moving and was just staring at his door. Tarfus was just able to make out the edge of a vacant grin. Four paces. Tarfus was close enough to make out the laughssassin’s traditionally-unkempt hair out of the corner of his eye. Three paces. Two. One. He was exactly even with the laughssassin, his breath sounding explosive in his ears.
The laughssassin passed out of his peripheral vision and Tarfus heard nothing. He relaxed fractionally.
A hand clapped him on the shoulder.
Tarfus entire right arm tensed at once and his shoulders hunched ever so slightly.
“Hey, brother,” came a gravelly voice behind him, “Lend a brother a hand.”
Tarfus turned around slowly, blood pumping loudly in his ears. “What do you need?” Do not make him angry do not make him angry do not make him angry…
The laughssassin stared at him through sleepy, half-lidded eyes for a moment before responding. “Could a brother get some directions up in here? Gotta get my supplication on before the Royalest of sisters, but I can’t seem to be remembering the way.”
Tarfus kept his face carefully schooled into an expression of intimidated diffidence. The “intimidated” part wasn’t hard to fake. Or especially faked, for that matter. “The Empress? She’s on the bottom floor. Just keep going down, you’ll know you’re at the right place when you run into a huge goddamn stairway.”
The laughssassin clapped Tarfus on the shoulder again and smiled vacantly. “Thanks, my sunset-colored brother. You maroons ain’t half bad. Great for painting the evening scenes. Even knowing where to find the ol’ Royal Fish!” The laughssassin’s eyes narrowed and were suddenly possessed by a dangerous spark of cognizance. “How would a maroon know where the Empress was anyway, brother?”
Tarfus shrugged. “Halls need cleaning everywhere,” he replied blandly.
And suddenly the laughssassin was all smiles again, and clapped Tarfus on the shoulder again that was probably going to bruise goddammit. “Ain’t that the truth! You been a real help my brother. Maybe I’ll see you around.”
The laughssassin stared at Tarfus for a moment longer than was comfortable before brushing past him toward the stairwell at the center of the hallway. Tarfus turned, but didn’t otherwise move until the laughssassin was out of sight. A brief shudder originating from the shoulder where the laughssassin had held him coursed through his body. “Goddammit, I hate those creepy bastards,” he muttered.
He shook himself and made his way to the end of the hall. Room 126. He knocked, and heard a crash of glass, followed by a muffled Thit! Footsteps stomped their way across floorboards toward the door. Hardwood floor in there, Tarfus mused, glancing down at the plush carpet beneath his feet. Odd. The door flew open and Tarfus was confronted with the sight of an angry pair of bicolored glasses.
“What?!” Almesian demanded. “I will have you know that I was performing an extremely delicate procedure, which you have ruined with your interruption!”
Tarfus bared his teeth in a predator’s imitation of a smile. “Lybnis. Good to see you too.” Tarfus pushed his way forward, grabbing Almesian by the collar with one hand and pushing the door shut behind him with his foot. He spun and pushed Almesian up against the now-closed door.
“I have questions, and you are going to answer me, because I have had it up to HERE with being jerked around!” Tarfus shouted.
“Sweet mercy and Mother Grub, who the hell are you, and what are you sputtering about?” Almesian said, eyes wide with surprise. After a moment, they narrowed again. “Wait just two seconds—I know you. You’re that psycho servant from earlier!”
“Got it in one, shitheel. Now: I’m running out of patience and redlining on my ‘fucking pissed off’-o-meter. I’m going to make this simple.” Tarfus jerked Almesian once for emphasis. “What the everloving rip-roaring shithive maggots insane scheme is the Empress up to?” he hissed.
Almesian stared. “What in sweet science’s name are you raving about? How the fuck should I know what the Empress is thinking? Get off of me!” He punctuated his final outburst with a literal outburst of psychic energy, blowing Tarfus backward, sending him crashing to the floor.
Tarfus swore as his injured wrist was jarred on impact, and all his bruises and aches clamored for his attention as they were swiftly introduced to the unforgiving wooden floor. He groaned and propped himself up on an elbow. That had been sloppy, forgetting about Lybnis’ psionics. He made it all the way to half-standing, half-hunching before being gripped by the collar and roughly forced upward. Tarfus was briefly amused by a bolt of déjà vu; hadn’t they just been standing like this, only reversed? He wasn’t even able to muster up the energy to be properly angry at being so easily defeated. Besides, turnabout was fair play, right?
Right. Because Tarfus gave a damn about fair. He reached up and calmly placed his good hand on Almesian’s shoulder and looked him straight in the eye.
Then kneed him in the groin.
A sound like air escaping from a balloon issued from Almesian’s throat as he let go of Tarfus and slowly crumpled to his knees. Tarfus stared down at the agony-stricken Almesian for a moment, panting.
“How should you know? Because you’re sleeping with her, goddammit!” he shouted.
“That’s not—” Almesian wheezed.
“Oh really? So Lucida was lying? And your atrocious coat just magically showed up one day? I already told you once, and that pissed me off enough—I am through being jerked around. You lie to me again, things won’t go so well for you.”
Almesian sucked in a breath, then coughed. “Coming on sorta strong, aren’t you?”
Tarfus rolled his eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
Almesian looked away. “So Lucida told you then. Why would she tell you?”
Tarfus couldn’t believe his luck. Lucida had told him precisely nothing about Almesian—he’d been bluffing, hard. Apparently Lucida knew more about Almesian than Tarfus had hoped. Or exactly as much as he’d hoped. He would have to step carefully now, lest Almesian catch on to his bluff.
“What do you think Lybnis? It’s not hard to figure out,” Tarfus lied. “Jealousy’s a powerful motivator, after all.”
Almesian appeared to curl into himself and deflate. His shoulders slumped and his head sagged in defeat. “No…Lucida wouldn’t…she said she was okay…” he muttered.
Tarfus stared in bewilderment. He’d hoped to get the guy to drop his guard and answer his questions, but he hadn’t expected anything like this. Thinking back on it, he realized that his earlier judgment of Almesian as incredibly moody had been spot-on. See, he told himself, I’m not a horrible judge of character.
Except when it came to certain greenblooded traitorous former co-conspirators, his thinkpan whispered. He crushed that thought back into a dark corner in his mind before it could infect the rest of his thought processes and returned to the matter at hand.
Wringing information from the sad crumpled heap of a troll in front of him.
“Now,” he said, “Spill it dirtsmear. What’s everybody’s favorite fishbitch scheming this time? And don’t tell me you don’t know—I know you’ve heard something.”
“It was my fault,” Almesian murmured quietly, almost inaudibly, still staring at the floor.
“What? Speak up and make sense, asshole. You make this take much longer and I’m going to charge you by the hour.”
“It was me,” he said, voice rising in volume. “She left because she knew. It’s all my fault.”
Tarfus frowned. This guy wasn’t all there. “Hey, focus freakeyes. I give exactly zero fucks about your emotional epiphany about your ex-matesprit or whatever. Cough up the information, or you’re gonna start coughing up something a little bit more yellow.”
Almesian’s head whipped up to stare at Tarfus, and Tarfus’ eyes widened. Almesian’s eyes were glowing red and blue respectively. That was anything but good. Tarfus hated dealing with psychics on a good day, but angry psychics were the absolute worst. A calm and collected psychic was inarguably more dangerous, but an angry psychic was more likely to cause serious damage. An angry psychic would throw their power around recklessly, with no regard to personal safety or their surroundings. Any normal person with a weapon in hand would do the same thing in similar circumstances, but when the weapon at hand was mind control, or telekinesis or energy manipulation, the results were a lot…messier.
Tarfus’ last comment had apparently pushed Almesian over the edge. “You want to know what she’s up to, asshole?!” he shouted, rising to his feet. He ripped off his duochromatic glasses and flung them aside to expose his lightning wreathed-eyes.
Tarfus tried to leap to the side, but instead crashed into a rippling wall of translucent red and blue energy. He tried to throw himself backward only to run into another wall behind him. He glanced around and realized that he was in a three-sided psychic box barely large enough to contain him. The only exit was through Almesian and with his eyes flaring like that, Tarfus didn’t like his odds. He’d have to chance it.
He dove for Almesian’s legs, and was about a century too slow. Almesian’s psychically-assisted arm, driven by the entire weight of his scrawny body came down on Tarfus’s back. Tarfus chin crunched into the floor and his vision went grey at the edges. Dimly, he heard something crack. He hoped it wasn’t his jaw—waiting for a broken jaw to heal was hell.
Tarfus realized that at some point, Almesian had lifted him up and was yelling something in his face.
“…is that she’s hunting down traitors! She said she had ‘a little minnow unwittingly doing the job for her’! Happy now, asshole? Now get the hell out of my office!”
Tarfus would later wonder if it was all the recent head trauma, but as Almesian’s parting psychic blast threw him toward to the door, the only thing running through his head was People with lisps shouldn’t say ‘offices’.
Then his back hit the door and with a terrific shrieking of metal, the hinges tore free. Things broke. Not the door. It was solid, aged wood, and it laughed at simple things like a fully-grown troll hitting it with enough force to dent steel. It flew from the doorframe, and skidded down the hall with Tarfus riding atop it like a boogie-board. If the boogie-boarder were concussed, half-unconscious and upside-down, anyway.
The door quickly slid to a stop on the thick carpet and Tarfus lay still for a moment while he waited for the world to stop spinning. Then he mentally laughed to himself when he realized that wasn’t going to happen—the world was always spinning! He meant the world right around him. Not that it was actually spinning. It was just sort of swirly, sort of like…he stopped thinking and groaned. Simile was beyond his ability right now, along with rational thought. So for the time being he was just going to lie on this comfortable wooden door, and try to avoid thinking.
He drifted. He wasn’t sure how long he lay on that glorified wooden plank, or if he drifted into unconsciousness. It felt like hours passed before a throbbing, insistent ache in his left shoulder slowly drew him from his catatonic haze and back into awareness. Uncomfortable, painful awareness. He groaned—he was getting a lot of practice at that lately—and rolled onto his left side. That proved to be a bad idea as a spike of pain flared up from his shoulder and straight up in the pain-receptors of his thinkpan. The pain hosted an all-day kegger in his thinkpan’s pain receptors over the course of about three seconds. The pain was even kind enough to invite its friends, Headache and Regret. Tarfus fell onto his back once more and focused on breathing and waited for the spots in his vision to go away.
On the bright side, he thought, I’m awake now.
He rolled over, onto his right side this time, and began the laborious process of making his way to his feet.
Again.
He was getting really tired of going through this process. For a moment, he considered just giving up and falling asleep out right here and now and to hell with the consequences.
The pros—maybe he’d stop hurting for once. He might even get some sleep not brought on by unconsciousness. And it would be so easy.
The cons—he’d probably be killed by some passing highblood.
He considered it. He really did. He was so tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of hurting. Tired of just barely keeping despair at bay by pushing ceaselessly forward. God, he was just tired.
He stood up anyway. It was literally not in his blood to give up. He’d made it out of the brooding caverns—probably, anyway. He didn’t recall being a grub, really—and he’d made it to adulthood. He’d survived for sweeps under the shadow of painful death if he’d ever been discovered. Hell, he’d even achieved a moderately successful military career as a threshecutioners right under the Empire’s nose!
His train of thought came to a screeching halt. Successful military career. Under the Empire’s nose.
Because the Empress had been manipulating him all along.
Almesian’s words came back to him in a rush. The Empress was using him to hunt down traitors. He choked down a hysterical laugh at the irony. Using him! A known rebel of her Empire to hunt down traitors! That was why she’d kept him alive then—to use as a tool, as a plaything to manipulate and take advantage of as she saw fit.
The old familiar, soul-blackening rage rose from the depths of his vascular pump to consume him. He allowed it, using it to push the pain into a corner of his awareness. He would pay for that later when it all came back in a rush, but right now he just didn’t care.
He had a sovereign to set straight.
Notes
Wow, this one took a while. Between finals, moving, and other assorted miscellaneous nonsense, this chapter took a lot longer than it should have, especially since's it's mostly just transitional stuff. On the bright side, it's one of the longer ones, and the next one will be full of meaty plot developments, I promise.
Also, I apologize for the abruptness of the encounter between Tarfus and Almesian. I was so sick of this chapter that I just wanted to get past that plot point and move on already, so poor Almesian gets denied some banter. On the bright side, Tarfus gets abused some more, and that's always fun, right?
Hunters, woo! Wizardstuck, woo! Hot Blooded, woo! Nice going, everyone. (Also, god, I'm hoping to have Chapt. 2 of Pickles' Model in reasonable shape soon. This is the longest I've ever taken to write anything, and I'm about ready to just through it all up in your laps regardless of quality.)
"'Cause these humans treat humans like humans treat hogs
They get used up, coughed up, and fried in a pan
But I wasn't born to die like a dog,
I was born to die just like a man."
Fanfiction on AO3: Walking Far from Home | Dethstuck
She wrapped her arms around his neck and accepted his licks with a giggle, ignoring the unhappy stares of her comrades. If they didn't get along with their lusii, that was their problem.
She suddenly had a terrible thought. What if they were only coming along because they had to, because the Summoner had recruited their lusii to his cause? That would be horrible! Maybe they didn't believe in equality, didn't understand that all paint colors were important!
She pulled away from Smiles to sneakily examine her allies, wrinkling her nose as she remembered why she had buried her face into her lusus' fur to begin with. The world smelled of burning, burning plants, burning flesh, burning hives. Everything was on fire all the time, ever since that big dragon came and burped on everything. She knew, believed, had been told that it had been needed to rout the imperial army, but it stank.
A warm tongue along one of her horns broke her from the smell and she giggled again. At least her lusus was still here and he smelled like he should, clean sweat and blood.
One of the trolls had started yelling at her and she swiveled an ear to listen. "-how you manage to sneak up on rocks is beyond me-"
Nope, not worth listening to. She knocked him over with a snap of her leg and went back to grooming Smiles. They didn't understand what it meant to be a predator, these silly city-dwellers who couldn't even catch their own food. Being stealthy was more than just not being heard and not being seen.
Finally their orders arrived. More specifically, her orders arrived.
"I'm being moved?" she asked. "The capital?"
The capital was so far away! It would take forever to get there even if she started walking right that moment!
Oh, wait. She'd probably be put on a ship. That made more sense. She didn't like ships. They were small and all the prey was under the water where she couldn't reach. Also she got yelled at a lot for playing with rigging and chasing the vermin.
She continued reading the letter, frequently pausing to ask about details. From the look the commander was giving her, they weren't particularly interesting details, but she was curious and confused. Military stuff was so weird! Why couldn't they just tell her what to hunt and let her go with that? It had worked for her ever since she left the trial caverns.
Eventually she reached the end and agreed to the mission. They wanted someone stealthy and she was stealthy! She liked being stealthy, it was fun! She also liked being loud and scaring her prey, but she could be stealthy! Sometimes.
She rubbed Smiles' ears and grinned. It was going to be an adventure!
--
She lashed out with both hands and managed to catch the creature off guard, her claws sinking deep into soft flesh. She was immediately rewarded with a spray of stinking yellow liquid, but she ignored it in favor of dodging a blast of light and falling to the ground. She wasn't sure if they were all like that or if it was something about this planet but some of the psionics had really bad aim!
She jumped forward again, clambering up spikes and flab to reach the beast's head again. Her claws could cut there, even if the lower part of the body was armored. A slab of metal flew over her head and into the creature's body, but it merely let off a high squeal and batted a psionic out of the air.
She finally reached her target, the soft spot that she had found before. She slammed a claw into it and tore outward, the flesh parting to reveal a smaller creature attached by a web to the larger. She smiled and thrust her hand into the breach.
The larger beast fell apart soon after its driver's death, falling with a groan. The trolls retreated back to the makeshift camp they called basehive to count the survivors and dissect the various monsters they had defeated. She couldn't help with either effort except for noting that some of the creatures were quite tasty. Other than that, she was left with wandering the camp and training. And eating a nice little chunk stolen off of the creature they had just fought.
As she walked, a few trolls saluted her. She grinned and saluted back, noting that they were using the gesture of the Summoner's army rather than the Imperial. Of course, if any Loyalist had been around they would all have been culled on the spot, but the group had been completely abandoned, with nothing but their weapons, their uniforms, and the chains they had been bound in.
"Direclaw!" She spun, still holding a yellow, dripping handful of flesh. "No eating the enemy!"
"But sir!" she whined, although with her mouth full of entrails she knew he didn't understand what she said. She swallowed and tried again. "But sir, it's delicious!"
He looked unimpressed, so she shoved the lump into her sylladex and saluted, Imperial style. Finally she remembered that he didn't outrank her. They hadn't been assigned ranks at all, so the officers were simply those who thought to give orders to anyone else and didn't die or get others killed. She liked that system.
She relaxed and smiled weakly at him, licking juices off her hand and waiting to be yelled at or ordered about or both. Instead, he turned away and gestured for her to follow.
He led her up a hill and pointed into the distance. "Do you see that?" he asked. All she noticed in that direction was a column of smoke. "That city is our target. The Loyalists have already bombed it but they want us to make sure that nothing's still alive there."
"Ooooh." She squinted, hoping to get a better view. "Is it going to be sneakily sneaking into the city, or are we going to charge in like a herd of angry hoofbeasts?" She wasn't actually sure which one she would prefer.
He continued to look unimpressed with her. "I used to wonder why you were never an officer." She blinked at him in confusion. "But since you asked, you get to lead the first wave in. Figure it out yourself."
Author's nonsense:
I couldn't decide whether Nepcestor versus Loyalists or Nepcestor versus aliens would be more interesting to write about, so you'll be getting both.
i would be perfectly fine with chapter two of pickles model being throughn up in my lap regardless of quality
I would just like to have it on record that I concur with this statement.
EDIT: Welp. I had to write a poem for a class in the style of another poem, and after the update this morning, it took a pretty dark turn. And honestly, in my head the speaker is probably Karkat or Terezi (maybe both? I'm not really sure.), so I'll drop it here.
The Road Ill Taken
Two roads diverged in a blackened wood,
And wishing I could travel neither
And turn back instead, long I stood
And looked down one while I still could
To where it glowed with emerald fire;
And took the other, as just as dark,
And having really no better claim
Because in it shadows coil and lurk
But as for which way to embark
They were really much the same,
In both, fear and death equally lay
And no soul had yet taken these.
Oh, that I could choose another day!
But knowing that mine is a short way,
I doubt it matters what I please.
There is barely more to tell or sigh
With so little time left, hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the more dark, even by
It would make no real difference.
Based on The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost, though honestly, I don't think I'll end up turning in this one because it's probably too similar. Even if the themes are vastly different.
Last edited by draconicAlgorithm; 06-01-2011 at 07:09 AM.
An occasional fanfic writer and general lurker. -- Chromatica: An Ib-inspired text adventure featuring Homestuck characters
THAT IS NOT SPADES
THERE IS NO CONSENT
THAT IS LIKE SPADES RAPE
TROLLS WOULD BE DISGUSTED
Originally Posted by invalidgriffin
Where do you keep the chips, dB. Can you turn up the air conditioner? Man why is your internet so slow, it is taking forever to download all these seasons of Digimon. YES Digimon is important to the lesbians process will you stop nagging.
Originally Posted by olivia
Originally Posted by Doodled
Eridan: Hunt for fearsome beast
Very fearsome indeed.
got that bitch a wweb-cartoonist. bitches lovve wweb-cartoonists.
Fanfics
Chapter Fics
Thicker Than Blood 01234: It seemed like a pretty straightforward moraillegience. He provided her with food, she protected him from the other rainbow drinkers. Maybe if her old matesprit hadn't gotten involved, it would have stayed that way.
Wizardstuck 12345678910111213141516: The new Hogwarts students just keep getting weirder every year.
Zombiestuck KKEG (1): They thought that the Earth would be empty, ready for them to rebuild and reshape it as they saw fit. They weren't expecting that the meteors wouldn't hit everywhere, or that they might have some nasty side effects. They weren't expecting the Infected.
Don't Press Buttons (1): As usual, John does something stupid. Only this time, the result is that he becomes a troll, and Karkat becomes a human. Shenanigans ensue.
One-Shots
Blood and Noir: I'd fallen for that trap once. I wasn't going to do it again. The Road Ill Traveled: A poem about Karkat and Terezi written in the style of Robert Frost's "The Road Not Traveled". Pixie Trails: Sometimes luck doesn't even factor in. Unovastuck-Karkat vs Throh and Sawk: Apparently, a Sawk is faster than a Throh. Faster than a Braviary too. Karkat finds out the hard way. Kore Wa Troll Desu Ka?: Includes crossdressing and magical girl transformations. Karkat was not pleased. The Lawyer and the Goddess: Vriska and Terezi are having a very important chat when they get interrupted by a certain juggalo. Prompt Dunp: A group of several short fics I wrote based on prompts, including Tavros and Bro sharing tea, Slick talking with Jade about (briefly) hobbits, and Dave finding a birthday gift for Rose. Tears: Getting stabbed in the chest once sucks. Getting stabbed in the chest twice really sucks. Prey: Nepeta is a clever kitty. Yes: In a moment of weakness, Rose consults her magical cue ball. My Little Sis: An alt!kids fic about Bro raising blue!Jade. Based off of MSB's AU roleplay. Funhouse: John really, REALLY doesn't like clowns. Or music by Pink. Ice Cubes: Bro talks to Nanna before his fated battle with Jack. INDIGO and CaNdY rEd: An altblood pesterlog, featuring mutant Gamzee and indigo Karkat. Kantostuck: John wants to be the very best. Like no one ever was. Disease Called Friendship: Karkat has had a bad time with friends. The Demon: Death sometimes comes in the form you'd least expect. Hope: Even the Prince of Hope doesn't understand it. Hoststuck: Yeah, I don't really know either. Coulrophobia: HONK HONK MOTHERFUCKER Do: Killer: He stalks in the darkness, waiting. Waiting. Awaken: It's hard, being a rainbowdrinker. It's hard and no one understands. Kitten: Hearts Boxcars adopts an adorable kitten. Misery Loves Company: Terezi gives the bad news, and finds out some bad news of her own. Tend the Living: Gogdammit Hussie I hate you. Doll: It's actually a very good thing that Vriska allowed Bec to be prototyped. Don't Die On Me: Terezi discovers a new reason to hate Vriska. BL1ND Buddiie2: Sollux consults Terezi on the best method of seeing without sight. Cold: Dave decides to take a little time out to go see Jade.
Originally Posted by The Cool
Fanfics (There's a bunch):
