MSPA Fanfiction VI: Trashy Rainbow Drinker Fanfiction

[FordDent]

/CRAWLS BACK INTO THIS THREAD

HEY GUYS

THERE ARE THREE NEW CHAPTERS OF VIOLETESENCE UP???

They're all under one work name though. For. Organization.

Rosemary, Pansy, Columbine, Rue

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It's over at AO3 okay

/crawls back into oblivion

This continues to be one of my favorite things.

[Paosheep]

@ArcFour: Hey, that thing that you are doing up there? It is an awesome thing. I'm kind of a sucker for game mechanics, and the way you blend that into an almost mythological narrative does all the right things for me. I'm really looking forward to those last three.

[Aline]

I made a new fanfiction, but i dunno if I post it in a new thread in the forums or just leave the link.

I'm just leaving the link, as of now. It's an AU fic called Nestheld, where a 2-session player is featured. Open to suggestions and feedback (on DA comments). You can even suggest silly actions, though, it's most likely they won't comply to them.

http://correctorai.deviantart.com/ar...er-1-245966235

[RogerMexico]

Hey guys.

New chapter of Tallahassee is up.

Enjoy.

[ArcFour]

Here we go! The last three; the Knight, the Seer, and the Heir. Enjoy!

10 – Knight

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You are the Knight of Time, and you have the Skill.

You know the true nature of Time; it’s the Blade and the Shield, the Armor and Weapon that keeps you going, keeps you fighting, even when the going gets tough. And you know how to fight.

It’s been hammered into you since day fucking one, after all.

Years of training, years of heat and blades and pain, years of bruises and sprains and cuts all lead to this in the end. The world’s ending, and you’ll be damned if you’re going to let your friends end with it.

That just wouldn’t be cool at all, after all.

So you fight, and damn it all, you’re good. Your Bro made sure of that, throughout your whole life, and Sburb and your Title only gave you the icing on the fucking cake, the delicious sugary outside that meant nothing without the sweet cakey inside sitting there all tasty and shit.

So perhaps your metaphors have weakened somewhat in the hours, the days, the however-the-hell-long-it’s-been-so-far, but your skills sure haven’t.

Time is a Tool, Time is a Weapon, and Time is going to be what gets you all through this game. So you use it, just like you’ve been taught (because it’s all you have left of him).

You weave through timeloops, circles and rings and lines weaving together into the chainmail that will protect your friends. You tear through time like a blade, and whenever you need it there are dozens of you all ready to fight and die. Time is a Sword, and you wield it. Your Skill combined with your Power makes you strong, and your Faith (in yourself, in your friends, in the Brother you never got to say goodbye to) keeps you whole.

And you die, a hundred thousand times, thousands of Dead You piling up all over the goddamn place, and as much as it hurts, you know that each of them went to their deaths willingly, because you’ve always known the Truth.

When it comes down to a choice of death (of fiery green and dark eternity), of you or your friend (your sister, your family), it is of no surprise to you that you readily choose yourself (because this is who you are). And when she asks you why, when she asks you how the words came so easily to your lips, your mind rings with the answer you will never be able to tell her.

Because the Truth of the Knight is to die, so that others may live.

And you’ve always known that you were willing to die for them.

11 – Seer

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You are the Seer of Time, and you know the Plot.

You know the true nature of Time; it was the Story, the Cliché, the Rising Action and the Climax, the Introduction and the Denouement. It was the Log of their lives, and of the lives of all who came before and those who would come after.
And you know how to See it.

This is your job, of course. You can’t jump through Time’s Scenes yourself, and you cannot directly view them, but you have other uses.

The kind of ability that other Heroes of Time, in other Sessions, might have had is not to be yours, but you have come to peace with that. That isn’t your purpose.

Your purpose is to Divine, to Predict, to Chart the courses for your fellow players to take. But, where other Seers might use the revealing knowledge of Light, or the cavernous understanding of the Mind and its choices, you must use your knowledge of Time.

And you have learned much.

For instance, you’ve learned that Time has a sense of dramatic irony. It was very dramatic in general, actually; your life, and the life of your friends, and your desperate struggle through the Game all follows a sort of formula, a plan, and it didn’t take you long to figure out that it wasn’t a plan, but a cliché. Even your friends all fell into it (and they were created by the Game, so of course it designed them that way); here the Leader, here the Lancer, here the Heart, here the Brute, here the Token Evil Teammate.

And here you are, the Smart Girl.

But it takes you a lot longer to really get the grasp of it. Only at the very end, when you stand in front of the boy (the man?) you came to love, and know he has come to strike you down, do you understand.

The Heir (your Leader, your Love) has gone mad (and a part of you realizes, belatedly, that this too was meant to happen, a further example of simultaneous circumstance that had to come to pass), and it has all become Doomed.

So you turn to the Witch (your Enemy, once, but your only chance, now) and give her a very special item you alchemized, knowing you would never get the chance to use it.

She disappears, sent days back in time against her will, and you know she will be intelligent enough to know what to do when she gets there (because that’s the Cliché, that’s the next step in the Story, and this is not the Climax, just a dark spot in the middle), and you hope (you know) that younger you will get it, in time. You’ll figure it out, days ago, and everyone will be safe.

And you turn to the Madman and smile. He comes for you, eyes like fire and blood turned black, and you hold your arms out to embrace him as death comes.

You don’t try to stop him, and a small part of you whispers the reason why, even as everything fades.

The Seer’s curse is to have Understanding without Power.

You know, though, that the Story will have a happy ending.

12 – Heir

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You are the Heir of Time, and you…

You know what? Screw that.

I am the Heir of Time. You are nothing but an interloper, a pitiful observer who can affect nothing.

I am the Heir, and I know the true nature of Time.

Those others, all of the other Heroes of Time who exist upon the many realities in which we exist, only have a piece of the puzzle. The Truth is far stranger than that.
Time is a Rhythm and a Flow. Time is the Source and the Prize. Time is the Way and the Role, the Lessons and the Rituals, the Plot and the Chains and the Skill.

Time is all this and more.

I have learned this, and so much more.

And as we play, my friends and me, I know how this will end.

Because I’m not letting us lose.

Nothing stands before me. From the weakest of imps to the mightiest of Denizens, all will fall by my hand. A thousand ways can I end them, and a thousand ways I do. Songs flow and dust flies and gears turn and currents flow and blades cut and I destroy.

Even the mighty King and Queen fall, like locusts to the storm.

They will not get in my way.

We’re going to win, we’re going to live, and we’re going to rule, even if I have to drag my whole team there.

This is the truth I learned when I reached Godhood by my own hands. This is the truth I learned as I have clawed my way through a Game that believed itself beyond me.

Sburb had no idea what it was doing when it gave me this power.

Every one of us is a God, now, even though I had to kill a few of them myself to get them there. When we win, when we create the world we deserve to live in, we will rule it eternally, by right and by might.

Remember this well, interloper.

I am the Heir, and I know the Truth of Time’s true nature.

I am Time, eternally living.

I am Time, infinitely powerful.

I am Time, and all shall bow before me.

So, there we go! All 12 finished. I may write an intro and epilogue narration of some sort later on, and put them all together as one story, but we'll see.

So, headcanon time!

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1: Again, this shows a bit of headcanon game mechanics here with the Seer; the Seer can't do a whole lot themselves, but as Doc Scratch said, they know things, and guide their players with that knowledge. The problem is that sometimes, the Seer could really use some power, but they really don't have it.

2: There's a reason they chose Dave to be the Time Player instead of, say, John. The biggest reason is one of strength and game-breaking; the Time Players are more commonly subservient or support classes, rather than powerhouses. Mage of Time? Not common. Witch, Prince, Bard, Knight, and god forbid, the Heir? All very uncommon. More commonly they want to pick someone that won't be game-breakingly powerful, because Time is a strong element even for the weak classes. The Knight is still powerful, but doable, because Dave is the kind of guy who won't abuse that power.

3: Heirs are supposed to be really, really strong. John is the Heir of Breath, an element that seems kind of weak at first blush, especially comparing it to things like Life or Void or Blood or Time, but he still DRILLED A HOLE THROUGH A PLANET. Even before he went godtier he put out a planet-sized fire! On the other hand, Equius didn't appear to be more powerful, on average, than any other troll, and he was the Heir of Void. Well, I think that's because he never, ever tried to fulfill his role. He would have considered it above him, presumptuous. After all, the Heir? Feferi should have been the Heir, or Gamzee. At least, that's what he thinks. So he never tried to discover what his powers might be or follow the lore of his world or anything like that. So he failed his Quest.

4: Most of the Trolls failed their Quests, actually. Eridan never learned to accept his place, Nepeta never really tried to break away from the rules, Feferi never learned to control her element, Tavros never learned much of anything, and so on and so forth.

So, I was looking at what to do next. I was thinking of picking another Element and doing another twelve, but most of the other elements seem a little boring. Breath, for instance; maybe two or three of them would be interesting, but how would I do twelve, one for each class, and make it both interesting and distinct from the Time short of the same class?

So, instead, I was thinking of picking a class, next. Knight, perhaps? Do all of the Knights of Elements, including Karkat and Dave? I don't know for sure, yet.

Anyway, please let me know what you guys thought! And, if you have any ideas or requests, let me know!

ArcFour

[SkaianRedeemer]

@Aline: You can either post fanfics here, in spoiler tags, or with a link like you just did, so no problem. You only start a new thread if you're making a personal thread for your own writing, or if you're like audience_cat and doing something we couldn't decide how else to house (WhoStuck). ...don't worry about that last part, though, I'm just being thorough.

[shieldman]

Is this the place for Fanfiction regarding non-canon characters? Or did I miss a noncanonfanfiction thread somewhere? :U

[anonymousComrade]

Is this the place for Fanfiction regarding non-canon characters? Or did I miss a noncanonfanfiction thread somewhere? :U

As long as its related to Homestuck or MSPA, I don't see a problem with it going here

[shieldman]

Thanks, aC :3
Here's a link, I guess: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1.../edit?hl=en_US
It's a session where DD goes off the deep end rather than SS. Also, the taller troll (Manchu) used to be a pirate.
enjoy? <:3

[PingZing]

So! I have been completely absent from this thread for a few weeks, as well as from writing regularly. I apologize for both! As a token of my sincerity, I offer you...

Hot Blooded: Chapter 15

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Ebb and flow.

Wax and wane.

Rise and fall.

Most things in life followed a cycle of some sort. The trick was discovering the natural rhythm of things, and learning its patterns and nuances until one could safely live in harmony with it.

Pain, for example. It came in bursts and waves of agony, building and building and building until finally it crested, curled, and crashed down, burying a person with its weight. And then it faded away, only for the cycle to repeat itself.

A fresh wave of hurt rolled over Tarfus, rousing him gradually from a troubled slumber. The agony built slowly, centering around his left wrist as a dull ache. As he emerged further into consciousness, little trills and arpeggios of pain flared their way down from his wrist to his shoulders. His eyes remained closed, and he gritted his teeth and focused on breathing. Pain robbed you of your sense of time—there was only this one single excruciating moment, where each second lived was fresh victory, followed by fresh torture.

And then, a sharp sliver of pain in his other arm, followed by gradual, blissful oblivion. The simple absence of pain left him shuddering with relief and slowly, his muscles relaxed.

He slipped back into unconsciousness, and the cycle began anew.

**

“Get up, soldier,” came a voice, harsh and grating. It made the larvaskin drums that had apparently taken up residence inside his skull thrum in sympathy. As a result, his skull thrummed in agony.

He groaned and pried his eyelids apart. Blurry shapes above him slowly resolved into the form of Kulath Stratet’s scowling face.

“You just gonna sleep all night? Little flesh wound like that?” She growled.

Tarfus grunted softly and let his eyes slip closed.

Stratet’s voice softened. “Good. If you thought you could just shake that off like nothing had happened, I’d kick your ass from here to the pink moon. One of the very first things I taught you. Remember what it is?” She said, pausing for a moment. “Of course you do, you thick-headed idiot. Know your limits. Ignore them at your own peril. Perils like losing a hand.”

Tarfus heard the soft rustling of fabric as Stratet leaned forward, and he felt his arm lifted up. He cracked his eyes open once more to find Stratet holding his hand with her own. Her left hand—the one that, along with her arm, had been torn off long before she’d met Tarfus. With it, she was holding Tarfus’ left hand. The one so recently cut off. Both her arm and his hand were ethereal and transparent.

“Looks like you forgot that lesson yesternight. You damned stubborn fool. I told you, time and time again, one night sheer hard-headedness and defiance wasn’t going to carry the day. And now here you are. Your merry little band is dead and gone, you’re missing a hand and at best a guest at the Empress’ displeasure. At worst, a prisoner dancing to her tune.” Stratet paused for a long moment before continuing, “You’re down, but not out Depinza. I know you well enough to know that you can spring back from this. Don’t let me down. I’ll be watching. Now rest, you need it if you intend to live long enough to get revenge.”

Tarfus’ open eye had slipped shut at some point during Stratet’s monologue and he felt her set his hand back down. He heard her stand up and slowly, his awareness slipped away once more.

**

“I must admit to some surprise. Your assault on my chambers was an unexpected surprise this quickly, even coming from you, threshecutioner."

Tarfus pried his eyelids open once more. Standing above him was the Empress, hands clasped imperiously behind her back. He twitched involuntarily as his weapon hand reached for the sickle that was no longer at his belt.

“Despite your crippling, you persist in your fury. Why? What is it that you find so compelling about me, that you turn the whole of your focus toward killing me?” She turned away and took a step toward some light source Tarfus could not see. “Surely you are aware that I am not the creator of the hemospectrum. Indeed, I am hardly even its enforcer.” The Empress turned and took a step in the opposite direction. “I employ a maroon-blood as my archivist. A yellow-blood as my chief researcher.”

Tarfus felt the beginnings of a frown working its way onto his face.

“And yet, when I met you I made my stance on the hemospectrum very clear. “Blood will out”, I said. Words are one thing, and yet the evidence is another. There is something interesting in that, don’t you think? I believe there would be wisdom in ruminating upon it.” She turned to face him again, and nodded. “Threshecutioner.”

Blackness stole in from the edges of Tarfus’ vision as the Empress’ footsteps faded away.

**

Tarfus awoke for the third time to a distant, flaring pain in his left wrist. It was as though the pain was behind a cottony wall that muffled everything; he was aware of its existence, but it was bearable. He felt a thin tugging on his wrist, and the pain intensified slightly.

He winced and found the strength to mumble, “So what, are you the third undead apparition of idiocy? Idiocy Future, maybe?”

He heard a sharp intake of breath above him, and whatever was tugging on his wrist jerked slightly, making his head swim with pain for a moment. When the stars and colors faded from the inside of his eyelids and he could hear again, he cracked his eyes open. The block was mercifully dim, and he could make out a blurry silhouette sitting above him, holding his wrist in one hand, and something slender and silvery in the other.

“I did not think you would be awake already. My apologies,” the figure said.

Tarfus frowned, as he recognized that voice. “What the fuck? Madris? What in her hideous Condescension’s brinesucking spiracles are you doing here?”

Auva returned to what she was doing, and pulled the needle taut, sending another muted flare of pain through Tarfus’ wrist. “I am attending to your injuries, of course.”

Tarfus winced and scowled. “Where the fuck did you get the painkillers anyway? Those are reserved for highbloods and the brass only,” he said.

Auva fixed him with a level stare. “Recall my profession and employer for a moment, if you would.”

Tarfus looked away with a grimace. “Yeah, I guess with connections like that, it wouldn’t be hard to get your hands on…wait a minute.” Tarfus looked back and Auva, glaring. “You mean all those times you stitched me back together before, you could have actually done it with painkillers? Why in the name of the brooding cavern’s filthy slime pits didn’t you, goddammit?”

“Do you not think that would’ve been rather conspicuous? An otherwise-unremarkable jade-blood negotiaterror possessing drugs reserved exclusively for high-ranking members of the military and aristocracy?” Auva said without pausing in her work.

“Shit, I would’ve assumed you’d stolen it. Maybe Atenor’s blue-blooded “benefactor” smuggled them into our stores and I didn’t notice or something. Wouldn’t have been the first time.”

Auva stopped at her work, and looked away, eyes downcast. “Perhaps I could have eased some of your pain. My apologies.”

There was a long silence, punctuated only by Tarfus occasionally gritting his teeth or swearing under his breath, and Auva’s steady hand working at closing the wound. Finally, Auva leaned back, surveyed her work, tied off the stitching and cut the trailing edge. She began gathering up her tools.

After a long silence, "How the hell did you ever make it as a spy, Madris?" Tarfus said, finally.

Auva paused, staring down. "It was easy, for a long time. I was able to convince myself that what I was doing was for the good of the empire. All my previous work had been to destabilize and sabotage groups that were working toward toppling our civilization. You…wanted to make it better. You were…inspiring. Convincing."

Tarfus looked away bitterly. "Not fucking convincing enough.”

"But you were," she insisted. "Why do you think you're still alive?"

He snorted, shoulders jerking up and down with the violence of it. "Because the Empress is a sick bitch that enjoys watching things bend until they break. I’m her rebellious little plaything, to fuck around with as she pleases until she’s bored with me. I’m dead, my body just doesn’t know it yet."

"No," she said even more quietly. "She originally planned to let you die. It was only at my behest that she let you live. I told her that you were no threat alone. She agreed."

Tarfus looked Auva straight in the eyes, and she recoiled at the depth of the defeat she saw in them. "Aren't I?” He sighed, and paused. “What was it you said when we first met? ‘Death for the sake of death’…?"

Auva closed her eyes. “’Death for the sake of death seems like a needless waste to me’. I haven’t forgotten.”

“Yeah? What happened to that when you sold us out?”

Auva sucked in a shuddering breath and slowly let it out. “What would you say if I told you I believed our comrades’ deaths served a greater purpose?”

“I’d ask you if you really believed that,” he murmured. “Then I’d kick your ass for daring to count yourself among the others. Then I’d ask you what the fuck could possibly justify betraying us like that. Betraying me.”

"I told the Empress that you were no threat alone. She agreed. I neglected to tell her that you wouldn’t be alone," she said, and pulled something ovaloid out her shirtsleeve. She held it up and Tarfus' eyes widened.

It was the revolutionaries' insignia; Tarfus' symbol in every color of the hemospectrum on a black background bordered by bright red.

"Long live the revolution, sir," she whispered.

Like a burrowing parasite, it made its way into the darkest corners of the furthest reaches, and turned up in the most unexpected places at the most surprising moments. It was an insidious, tempting emotion that Tarfus’ vascular pump, caked in grimy layers of cynicism though it was, was unable to completely suppress.

Hope.

And it was because of hope that Tarfus’ next works came out choked and bitter. “No. No, Auva just…it doesn’t fucking work like that, not even for you. I’m done,” he said, voice hitching. “I’m done being jerked around by high-minded highbloods who think they know what’s best and fold me into their neat little schemes and move me around like a little fucking toy who’s only purpose is to smile, nod, and walk to my goddamn fucking death. I won’t do it any more, not even for you.”

Auva closed her eyes, and Tarfus could see her clenching her teeth. She wouldn’t cry, that Tarfus knew. She would’ve already prepared herself for this eventuality, and would have rationalized and reasoned it out. She would clench her jaw, and squeeze her eyes shut, and nod.

And Tarfus hated it.

“You know,” he croaked, “You know I was waxing pale for you? That entire two sweep stretch we were fighting for our lives. Probably even before that. I probably would’ve asked within a perigree. You were always the calm one. When I was out of my mind with rage at some idiot’s retarded fuckup, you were there with the plan, and the way out. You listened to me when I had to vent about the idiocy of the morons we had to hire to stay undetected. You were my moirail in all but name.

“And then you went and fucked it all up. So no, Auva Madris, you do not get to flash my idiotic little insignia at me and call everything nub-skippingly fine.”

Once he finished speaking, Tarfus looked away, and stared at the ceiling. His expression hadn’t changed throughout his entire monologue. Rage, Auva knew how to handle. Frustration, she was an old hand at. Self-loathing, she could soothe. But this dead, defeated despair had shaken her.

She sucked in a breath and held it for a moment. “Yes sir,” she whispered, her words catching.

She turned away from him and left the block. Tarfus continued staring at the ceiling, even when he heard the distinctive sound of a single, rattling breath coming from the doorway before Auva was able to stifle it.

He lay there for a long time. Sleep never came.

Notes

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So, if this chapter seems sort of patchwork and oddly put-together, there's a reason for that. I've had a large portion of the second half of this chapter written for quite some time now. This chapter right here? It was originally meant to come two chapters after Tarfus wakes up in the Empress' compound the first time. Guess how well that worked out!
I would say I'll be able to get back to a regular writing pace soon, but that would probably be a lie. I'm traveling again in a little under two weeks, and have no idea how busy I'll be. We'll see!

[Aline]

@Aline: You can either post fanfics here, in spoiler tags, or with a link like you just did, so no problem. You only start a new thread if you're making a personal thread for your own writing, or if you're like audience_cat and doing something we couldn't decide how else to house (WhoStuck). ...don't worry about that last part, though, I'm just being thorough.

Since DA doesn't have appropriate formatting for the history (as well as action suggestions for people here who don't want to bother with DA would get difficult), I had to post here as well. orz

http://www.mspaforums.com/showthread...CTION-Nestheld

I forgot the small oversight in which I proposed action suggestions (but not too many, to not make the course of the story too messed up).

[Non-Player Character]

Well, it's been up there for a little while, but I've added something new on AO3:

Hope Springs Eternal, a little work about Eridan that sorta surprised me when I wrote it, but I'd say that I like where it went, in the end.

Also, ArcFour, I really admire your ____ Of Time writings. Just thought it needed to be said. It actually lines up with Xalrath's Sburb Character Creation Guide, which looks at the classes and aspects as though they were and actual game.

[SkaianRedeemer]

@Aline: You can either post fanfics here, in spoiler tags, or with a link like you just did, so no problem. You only start a new thread if you're making a personal thread for your own writing, or if you're like audience_cat and doing something we couldn't decide how else to house (WhoStuck). ...don't worry about that last part, though, I'm just being thorough.

Since DA doesn't have appropriate formatting for the history (as well as action suggestions for people here who don't want to bother with DA would get difficult), I had to post here as well. orz

http://www.mspaforums.com/showthread...CTION-Nestheld

I forgot the small oversight in which I proposed action suggestions (but not too many, to not make the course of the story too messed up).

That's okay, but it should have been posted in this thread. What's done is done, just make sure that when you post any more, they goes into this thread or that thread - the mods don't like us creating more than one "personal" thread in the art forum.


@PingZing: Some of the lines that I think are supposed to be Tarfus' observations of Auva sound more like Auva's point of view. I don't believe we've seen anything from there before... but correct me if I'm wrong. I only skimmed the fic before commenting, and as someone who laughs at their own jokes while formatting for FFn, I'm probably not a stellar example of memory when it comes to minutiae. Anyway, this was a good chapter. Sort of what I was expecting to have happen, but that doesn't make it any less of a good chapter.

[shieldman]

Hey, ArcFour, have you considered using those taglines-- like the Flow, the Beat, the Plot, etc.-- and applying them to the other descriptors, thatways? Like, even Seers of Rage know the Plot, but a different kind.

If you have, then I'd love to collaborate with you on these, because they're amazing in every way @__@

[Rimbaum]

Hey, ArcFour, have you considered using those taglines-- like the Flow, the Beat, the Plot, etc.-- and applying them to the other descriptors, thatways? Like, even Seers of Rage know the Plot, but a different kind.

If you have, then I'd love to collaborate with you on these, because they're amazing in every way @__@

I agree. I'd like to do a handful. Void is one of the ones that intrigued me most.

[ArcFour]

@shieldman, Rimbaum = Yeah, actually, I've considered it pretty heavily! Some of the elements would be pretty easy to do (like Light and Void), but others are really difficult (like Heart; how do you do 12 interesting things involving heart? I mean really, come on). But yeah, a lot of them would be interesting! I've got a lot of ideas for Light and Void, but the others are giving me issues; if you'd like to contribute, go right ahead! Who knows, maybe we could actually do all 144 possibilities...

I was also considering maybe picking some of the more interesting shorts and expanding them somewhat; the Rogue and the Prince of Time really caught me as interesting, for instance.

Or, wait, I have a good idea, too; I can do requests! If you guys would like, ask for any three Class of Elements, and I'll write a short in the same style as the Time shorts for the first three requests I get. That includes odd ones, like the Hope or Heart ones, and ones that are actual Homestuck characters, like Heir of Void or Witch of Life.

This could be fun!

[shieldman]

Rim and I already have a google doc up, if you want to join in! :O
It'd be totally sweet, bro! and hella jeff

[ch00_bakka]

like Heart; how do you do 12 interesting things involving heart? I mean really, come on

Hey, Heart is an awesome power.

[ArcFour]

...Touche, Ch00. Touche...

[ArmsAreLoud]

Blame Calamity for this.

The Dowry

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This is abso100tely e%quisite

Please try not to be so impressed. You are playing right into her hands.

Ten hoofbeasts... Or horses, as I suppose I am now expected to call them given my current location. Rose's mother saw fit to bestow upon us an entire stable's worth of horses in celebration of the finalizing of my matespritship (wedding, I believe?) with her lovely daughter.

It is an extraordinary dowry, one fitting for a pair of much higher standing. And yet Rose refuses to appreciate it.

I do not see why you have such a poor relationship with your mother
She is a good woman and worthy of your respect

Equius, darling, we have been over this.

She only says "darling" when I bring up a tense subject. With Rose there is only one tense subject.

I think that you underestimate her love for you
When i see her 100k at you it reminds me of Aurthour

I think you are imagining things to make yourself feel better.

I think you are trying e%tremely hard to feel worse

Is that so?

At that comment she began to grip the sleeve of her shirt so tight I feared it might rip completely. It is a nervous habit of hers; at an earlier date I would have simply let her be but I had recently decided that I would not allow Rose to be in such a poor state with her benelover. She would love her mother as I loved Aurthour, even if it killed me.

I believe that you have convinced yourself of your mothers antagonism in order to shield yourself from possible complications in your relationship
When in reality it would be much simpler and much healthier if you two just let yourself be happy with each other

Isn't the psychoanalysis typically my thing, Equius?

My issues are resolved
It is you who needs my help now

That first part was a complete fabrication and we both knew it; I still get a bit sweaty when I see Rose's text color. However, that does not change the truthfulness of the second sentence.

Well, let's assume that you are correct. What then? What do I do? Should I simply walk up to my mother and say "Hey mom, sorry for thinking that you are a huge bitch for the duration of my life up until now and letting you know just how much I thought you were a huge bitch every time I saw you". Is that what you want me to do?

I believe that w001d do more harm than good

Then what is it, Equius? What is your grand plan to reshape my relationship with my mother in a single day?

I think what we sh001d do is take two of those horses
Ride up to her house
And you sh001d thank her for the gift
Sincerely and from the bottom of your heart
I promise you that if you do that it will make your mother the happiest woman in the world

But wouldn't I need to appreciate the gift first?

Dont give me that rose we both know you love horses as much as i do

...Fine. We will try your hair-brained scheme. Try not to be disappointed if it blows up in my face.

I do not expect it to

I was right.

[SilverKunama]

I agree with Dumbledore ch00. Heart is an awesome power.

Seer of Heart

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You are the Seer of Heart, and you understand the Plot.
You can see the Twist, the Cliche, the Heartwarming Confession. You know that the Heart spins a Story through the Universe. You see the way your companions Relationships take shape. They form Links between each player, the brightest Red love to the deepest Black hate and all shades between, weaving ropes that tie everyone together in a twisted Maze.

You cannot See into the dark depths of the Mind, not can you illuminate with brightest Light. But you understand that some Scenes require mood lighting, and your friends, to one who truly Looks, wear their Hearts on their sleeves.

Simply being able to See the desires of the Heart, however, does not mean that you can Change their minds. It is not in your nature to Manipulate. You are the Observer, the Note Taker, and so you Watch as your beloved finds the arms of another, for that is the way it must be, for the sake of your Story.

You have read the Novels. Seen the Plays. Watched the Movies. You have never had trouble Seeing into your own Heart. You know what will happen next. So you lie against the worn and carved rock, and you thank the Gods that your weapon brings Death quickly. It is the upside of your Element, you suppose, as you line up your weapon, that you know without a doubt exactly where your Heart is. Broken or not. You push your dagger down.

And you Rise.

You know that you alone of your friends Understand the truth of the Heart.

That it is filled with Sorrow.

And you have no Power to change it.

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Other headcanon/random sentences/etcetera.
'The Knight of Heart wields Love like a Weapon.'
The Prince is paired with his second choice, and must learn to give up on his desire.
The Mage weaves spells that twist the Ropes beyond recognition, with no regard for consequence.
The Witch manipulates the Ropes, because she can.
The Bard sings love songs that charm and trance the enemy, give heart to those who lose it, violent songs to spur on the warriors of the party, sad songs to break the hearts of the opposition...
The Thief steals attention from those s/he deems unworthy.
The Rogue disregards the Cliche and the Plot. She believes in the long shot, the incompatible pair.
The Maid mends the relationships, tidies away the loose ends, but never can have her own. Unless she takes the Chance.

I think about things too much.

[eruditeColossus]

That drabble made me depressed. Good writing, but it made me sad.

[SkaianRedeemer]

@ArmsAreLoud: You work surprisingly fast.

[ArmsAreLoud]

It's a pretty short work and I typically write better when I do it in one sitting anyways.

So... whaddya think? I've been in a bit of a writing slump (this is my first writing of any sort in FOREVER) so I could use some input.

[Strider]

Okay, so I have this fanfic that at the moment is probably still at the incredibly shitty phase. Feel free to tell me how bad it is.
http://www.mspaforums.com/showthread...-Fall-of-Skaia
I'm still trying to figure out how to officially get this started with a prologue and everything. It could probably take a while, considering that my walls have been generally unavailable recently.