MSPA Fanfiction VI: Trashy Rainbow Drinker Fanfiction

[RogerMexico]

Alright. Sorry for the delay, but here it is.

RESET - 3

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> John: Discuss strategy with crew.

In light of recent developments, you think that this is probably a good plan.

You swivel in your captain's chair and turn to face your fellow blue-bloods.

"Well," you say. "What are we going to do?"

"We can't just leave them there!" says Equius. "It is our duty to help the less fortunate."

You are once again shocked by how much Equius has changed in the sweeps you've known him. The troll that Karkat had once dubbed "the sweaty hemo-facist" is no more, replaced by the calm, collected champion of equality that sits before you know. His transformation is probably the only good thing to come out of that awful day in the capital. If only you all hadn't had to lose so much to prompt it.

Vriska, being Vriska, can't resist the opportunity to weigh in on the decision.

"I would just loooooooove to see what Toreasnore has been up to for the past five sweeps!" she laughs, a mischevious smile on her lips. You suppose you should worry, but you don't. This isn't the "spiderbitch" who impaled the poor woobie and chucked him into a pit. Vriska has changed as well, mostly due to your STRONG moral influence. You know the worst that's going to happen to Tavros is some friendly teasing.

"I guess it's decided then," you say. "I'll just contact the governor to see if they can discreetly get us a secure dock. Then we'll go look for our wayward companions." Normally, you'd have to evade the police patroling the gravity well and slip into some secret port to get onto a civilized world--after all, the three of you make up one of the most feared pirate crews in the Empire.

However, this particular colony world happens to be governed by a close friend of yours.

Your ever-present grin broadens. It's been a while since you've talked to her.

> John: Contact your mysterious friend.

She's really not that mysterious!

educatedBrigand [EB] contacted thaumaturgicTyrant [TT] at 1812 LOCAL TIME

EB: rose!
TT: Hello, John. It's been a while.
EB: it sure has! i don't think we've been through this sector for at least three perigees.
TT: I must say I'm rather grateful for that. Pretending to put together a military force to chase you around the system can become rather tiresome.
EB: oops, sorry! well, i have good news in that case. we're here to make a quick pick-up, not to do any raiding.
TT: Oh really? Are you going to tell what your mysterious package is, or will I have to use my magical seer powers to read your mind?
EB: hehe rose, you can't do that.
TT: Are you sure of that, Egbert? Remember, I still have the mystical powers of the Outer Ring at my command.
EB: i am shaking in my captain's pants here, ms. spookypants mcmagichands.
TT: Excellent.
EB: anyway, i received a transmission earlier. you'll never guess who it's from!
TT: Is it from Gamzee and Tavros?
EB: aww, how did you know?
TT: Well, they're the only two who you aren't in contact with on a semi-regular basis. If it was any of the others, you wouldn't be so excited.
TT: It's simple logic, really.
EB: haha, i really shouldn't be surprised. you are the queen of books after all!
EB: yes, gamzee opened up a memo on karkat's old board.
TT: The infamous "FRUITY RUMPUS ASSHOLE FACTORY"?
EB: yeah. apparently, he and tavros are on your planet right now! gamzee was looking for someone to come pick them up, and we were in the area, so we're coming to get them.
TT: Interesting, I think I'd know if those two were here. Let me quick check to see if I have their records.
TT: Hmmm...
EB: hmmm?
TT: Yes, hmmm. It's an interjection denoting deep thought, and perhaps bemusement.
EB: duh! that's not what i meant and you know it.
TT: Sorry, I couldn't resist. Anyway, there is no record of a Nitram or a Makara living on this colony.
TT: Wait, hold on.
TT: Kanaya just handed me something she found.
TT: ...
EB: what is it?
TT: It's the manifest for a prison ship that's due to make port within the next solar cycle.
EB: so?
TT: Gamzee and Tavros are listed as two of the prisoners being transported.
EB: no way!
TT: Yes way, John.
TT: I think we may have an impending prison break on our hands.
TT: This could get messy.

> John: Be Rose.

Don't be silly. You have always been Rose, and you find the notion that you were ever John to be patently ridiculous.

The news that you and John have discovered is rather unsettling, to be frank. A normal prison break-out would be a bureaucratic nightmare, and one perpetrated by two powerful veterans of SGRUB? You don't even want to think about it. Every time John comes through here you have to deal with all the trouble he causes, and it looks like this time will be no different.

You suppose that's what comes of being close friends with a group of infamous pirates.

You sigh and begin the complicated process of bribing officials and "losing" paperwork that is necessary to get John's ship through the police perimeter and on to the planet. As you work, you become aware of a slight breeze tickling your ear. You turn and encounter the grinning face of your assistant and matesprit.

"Yes?" you say, arching one eyebrow.

"This should be interesting," says Kanaya. "It's been a while since we've seen those two. I wonder what they've been up to?"

"Nothing legal, apparently," you reply.

Kanaya just laughs and gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before returning to her workstation. You smile and watch her, thinking how lucky you are to have a matesprit as intelligent and beatiful as her.

> Rose: Reminisce.

You suppose it couldn't hurt to indulge in a bit of nostalgic musing while these money transfers go through.

You were just as surprised as everyone else when you awoke to find yourself on an Alternian hillside close to Karkat's old lawnring. You were shocked speechless when you glanced over at John and discovered that your leader now had grey skin and a set of horns. A quick glance confirmed that Jade and Strider had undergone the same transformation.

"Rose," gasped John. "...you have gills."

Your hand flew up, and sure enough you felt a pair of gills protruding from your neck. You were not just any troll. You were a seadweller.

You were royalty.

As such, you soon found yourself included in the Empire's ruling elite, and your brilliance soon earned you a post as governor of a distant colony world. You found this position ideal for aiding your group's little resistance movement, and even after everything fell apart you are still able to provide some covert aid to your friends when they need it.

You'd never admit it, but you miss the days when the sixteen of you were a cohesive unit, fighting Jack Noir and trying to wrest your final reward from that cursed game. Now that group is gone, scattered to the twelve winds. You all fell out of touch for a while, but now that Tavros and Gamzee have resurfaced it means that everyone is accounted for.

However, there is one troll that you wish had disappeared permanently.

Speak of the troll devil, it looks like they're messaging you right now!

A/N

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This one took a while to write, by which I mean it took a while for me to sit down and write it.

Rose was a bit of a challenge to write, as I wasn't sure how playful to make her.

The bit at the beginning where John, Vriska, and Equius feels kind of dry to me. I think I tried to shoehorn too much exposition into a dialogue scene.

Actually, I think I'm just trying to put too much exposition into these chapters. They're starting to turn into the dreaded "wall o' text".

I would apologize for cutting the story off like that, but I'm not sorry.

EDIT: I cut out the last bit and rewrote it to tone down the suck. Thanks to Jim Groovester and ProspitDreamer for the suggestion!

Also, the comment dump that has been too long in coming!

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@Jim Groovester - "Sapphire" is entertaining as always. I must say I never saw that twist coming. Well done!

@anonymousComrade - "Crossing Over" was awesome. The ending was perfect--it's nice to see everyone get a happy ending.

@ProspitDreamer - "What it Takes" is fantastic so far. The image of Karkat jumping out of a hole in the sky and coming to Jade's rescue was hilarious. Also, I'm glad you like RESET! Thanks for the compliments and the suggestions!

@meta-fic - You guys are ridiculous (in a good way).

@everyone else - Fantastic work! Keep on writing or I will cut you!

Also, links to previous parts in my signature.

[mythmonster2]

Oooh, time to see wwhat Eridan's been up to!

[Jim Groovester]

@Path: What was that? Whispers of an overarching plot? That'll be fantastic if/when it happens.

@battlerek & Rimbaum: Sleuth actually isn't going to get beat up much more. That's not to say people aren't going to try, but since he is the most informed individual about the SoA he doesn't have to trade beatings for clues if he can help it.

@SkaianRedeemer: Well, I guess that's the best you can give me, so I suppose I'm satisfied about the infodump. And loyalty, charisma, lingering game mechanics. More like all three. Apparently characters' ingrained nature is a really big theme in this story, and I've had a lot of fun exploring it. What a happy accident.

@PingZing: One sorta for, and one for. Guess it's fine then.

@RogerMexico: Oh shit I surprised somebody best day ever. And with your fic, you're spending a lot of time reintroducing all the characters. Not that this is necessarily a bad thing, but I think you can postpone the reintroductions to when they come up. The fic is dragging a little bit getting through all of them.

@Kawa: 612 words? I'm interested so far.

[Nanakii]

@Nanakii: This has nothing to do with fic, but your Midnight Crew icon makes it look like Eridan has a halo that doesn't want to be associated with him and I'm sorry.

Bahahaha, A halo? that's pretty hilarious :O. I did get the new Icon by popping into the thread while people were making them, and they were so amused at how "Sad and alone" Eri looked in conjunction with my comment.
Poor Eridan, even the halos won't cut him some slack!

[lantadyme]

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

Here's some Striders and stuff.

Blackout

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He feels like shit. Like really this is the sickest he's felt in his entire life and that's saying something. He can't even count the number of times he's had food poisoning from the crap he eats, and this beats them all out. This is some mutant fucking strain of sickness and he's been sitting here against the wall in the bathroom trying to put together a perfectly apt metaphor to describe it, but it's really slipped out of his hands at this point. At this point Bro controlling the sickness has nothing to do with his hands and everything to do with his beaten-down-and-broken immune system not really cutting it anymore.

Fucking swine flu.

He's past caring what time it is. It's some godawful o'clock in the morning and he's been sitting here for what feels like an entire hour already. He's not even nauseous anymore. Now he's just dizzy as fuck and shivering, his body broken out in cold feverish sweats, and he figures it's just easier to sit here and wait it out. Wait the dizziness out. Cal'll keep him company. He's got him tucked to his chest like a kid's teddy bear, pretty much every blanket in the apartment wrapped around his shoulders and his shivering legs. Fuck, it's cold. It's goddamn May and to Bro it feels like it's near freezing inside.

The nice quiet, obnoxious as hell buzzing of blood through his head is suddenly shattered as Dave throws open his door and crashes into the main room, the door slamming back on its hinges in his wake. The kid goes utterly silent a few steps into the room. Bro listens, swallowing around the disgusting raw mess of his throat, and then Dave isn't so quiet anymore.

"Fuck, Bro, where are you?" he calls breathlessly, his voice near cracking with fear. "I'm not kidding around here, for once would you not materialize out of the goddamn shadows laughing and actually answer me?"

"Dave," he calls. God, he sounds like a strangled bagpipe, all gravel and pain.

Dave responds instantly, his footsteps loud on the carpet as he rushes over those few strides and tears into view, skidding to a halt in the bathroom doorway with all his hackles raised and his right hand twisted up like he's got a sword clutched there.

Bro blinks, the dizziness spinning in his head, and neither of them have their shades on. Dave's eyes lock onto his and they're so damn wide. For a second it looks like he's seeing a ghost, teetering on the fence between terror and rage. His mouth is pulled back into a grimace with his lungs sucking air, and for a second Bro can't help but think, Damn, no wonder they won the game.

It melts out of his posture like wax dripping from a candle; his shoulders dip first and then the tension in his knees, the rest of his bones following fluidly. In the end he stands there awkwardly, a scared kid woken terrified out of a nightmare he's only now remembering isn't real. The right hand clutching his imaginary sword relaxes last, slipping neatly into the pocket of his sweatpants like it had never even happened.

But it had.

"You okay?" Bro asks, partially because he just feels so fucking lousy that he doesn't have the energy to jab at Dave for the outburst, but mostly because he can still see that glint of terror in the kid's eyes and it stings him a little.

Dave seems to flinch at the question. The entire apartment is dark and he stands there in the doorway for a moment staring at the floor with his mouth in an ugly frown. Then he looks up again, catches Bro's eye and says, "I don't know."

"Fucking nightmares?"

"Yeah."

"You wanna tell me about it?"

Dave is all spooked tension like a trapped bird. Neither of them is used to talking like this, talking openly, but it's been a couple months already since the world rebuilt itself and Bro and everything else that was destroyed. A couple of months of normal urban life and Dave is still having nightmares about the game, waking up in the middle of the night muffling screams into his pillow that Bro can always hear through the shitty paper-thin walls.

Dave steps over the floor on eggshells and folds the toilet seat closed to sit down. He doesn't want to talk about it. He doesn't. And his posture is all tied in knots, his arms curled around his chest hugging himself and his eyes everywhere but on Bro. He still has a picture in his head, the dream etched onto his retinas, and it's twisting him up inside like a corkscrew in a dead rat's guts.

"Are you okay?"

The words hang in the air and for a second Bro thinks he spoke them himself, as fever-baked as his brain is. But they're in Dave's voice, worried and uncomfortable because it's been nearly a week since this flu knocked Bro flat on his back and he's still not on the upturn yet. He sniffs and leans his feverish head against the cool grimy wall tile and looks at Dave again. "Thought I was the one askin' you that?"

Dave frowns and his eyes shoot to the doorway. Still guarding his exits. His right hand tenses up again and he has to force it flat, has to force himself to sit there with the dream still coiling paranoia in his bones.

"It's different every time," he says, the words tumbling out with no cadence, no reason, just tumbling. "I mean, it isn't because usually it's the same fucking thing, but it's different too because shit is always different. There was so much crap that went on. I don't even know it all, just that it kept rolling up more and more shit to the shit pile, a fucking dung beetle going to town on the African plains, sucking that shit right up because why not, why wouldn't we want more?"

"Dave."

"The dream. Shit. I know. I—" he has to stop, has to rub his eyes long and hard and cover his face, get himself under a little more control. Bro waits, his head still spinning, and he fights to stay in the moment.

"The dog," Dave mutters, his voice breathless. "Jack. Whatever. He's there and he has you pinned. And your blood is fucking everywhere, wild cherry red to his endless black, and he's just grinning. Laughing. Fucking unhinged jaw. And he has so many swords, infinite ones, and he just keeps jabbing you. One more sword. One more. And then the fire comes out of the shadows all green and he's controlling it somehow. I don't know. And just. The screams. You never stop screaming and it feels like I'm the one dying."

God. God. Bro closes his eyes as his stomach turns for the hundredth time tonight. He was there. He was there when he died and it wasn't like that, but hearing Dave say it, hearing the picture in the kid's mind, it feels like a kick in the gut. It feels like getting run through a second time, his blood gushing out hot down his back and the agony shooting red fire through him with each breath. Each twist of the blade. He'd trade his own life again for Dave to not have that image burned into his brain. Bro swallows hard, one arm tucking Cal that much closer to his heart, and he looks up at Dave.

"It wasn't like that," he whispers, and the words sound like mourning.

"I know. It's just how it is in my head." Dave shrugs, wanting to talk about anything else but knowing this is something he needs. "It's not always you either, but it usually is."

"The girls?"

"And John."

"Ever you?"

Dave laughs at that, a bark of sour air because there's nothing funny about that at all. "No. I don't get killed. It's just everybody else that dies around me. Fuck, weren't you taking notes? I'm the alpha self. All I'm fucking good for is watching other people die."

"That ain't all you're good at."

"I'm pretty goddamn stellar at it."

"Dave."

Bro cuts the negative tirade off and Dave looks glad for it. He rubs at his face again, his fingers trembling, and he glances at the door. He catches himself checking his exits again, planning his escape route should he need it, and Dave sighs shakily at the floor.

"This is why I was afraid to sleep during the game," he admits, and he catches Bro's eye and holds it for a long moment before breaking it again.

"You always did have pretty vivid nightmares. All that creativity spun up in your brain."

Dave shrugs, doesn't care about back when he was little. Back before the game. That's all old news to him now and he's got his timeline snarled around the game like tangled fishing line. "Did you ever see one of me die?"

For a second Bro's thankful he's sick as a dog. His face is dead bland because of it and the horror that question calls up somehow doesn't wash into his eyes. God, what a question. Because even though Bro himself doesn't wake up screaming, he still dreams of green fire and orange feathers and he wakes up in cold sweats every time. That was Dave. That was Dave, and how is it right that Bro wasn't the one to go down first, his blood all over Jack's sword marking it red against the blackness for Dave to dodge—

"Yeah. The orange one."

He can't look at Dave right now, doesn't trust himself to keep his cool, and when Dave sighs the same scared exhaustion that Bro feels, some of the tension eases out of the air. "Right. Shit, I always forget about him. What kind of an asshole does that make me?"

Bro laughs that sour laugh, but with a touch of humor to it this time. "A pretty big one."

"Awesome."

Dave sits there with his elbows on his knees, his hands knotted up in his hair as he stares at the wall. Bro can see the dream replaying itself ad infinitum in Dave's mind, red blood and green fire and pure hopeless terror on a seamless film loop; the game's cruel ghost to haunt him forever. And his worry is momentarily dashed by a hot burning rage that the kid's not even fourteen yet and he's already got so much trauma in his soul.

Bro at least got to fifteen before he found a baby in the carcass of his record shop and his plans fell to shreds.

"Dave." He says it quietly, his throat like raw pork, and it feels like that's all he can say tonight. Just repeat his name forever. Snap out of it, kiddo.

"It's just all so fucking huge, you know?" he whispers, his voice trembling a little, and that's the most honest Bro's ever heard him since Dave was seven and he decided honesty wasn't cool anymore.

"Yeah." Bro watches him and he must be really baked right now on this cold, because what comes out of his mouth is the very last thing either of them were expecting. "You want a hug?"

Dave stares for a second, his eyebrows jumping in surprise. Bro almost wants to take it back, rewind the tape and act like he never even pressed play. Flu, you know? I know you're not really seven anymore. Too cool for hugs and shit, it's fine. Don't know what I'm saying hopped up on all this cough syrup, man. But Dave doesn't laugh and he doesn't ignore it either. His eyes go distant as he stares through the wall for a minute, actually considering it, and then he lets out the longest ragged sigh.

"I think I do," he admits guiltily. Bro can tell he's wary as hell about it too, because this is just Bro fucking with Dave again, right? That's all this can possibly be?

But weirdly, it's not, and it's as shocking to Bro as it is to Dave. "You sure?"

He snaps a glance out of the corner of his eyes, dragging a hand through his hair to mask his nerves. "Look, this is embarrassing enough. You really gonna make me ask?"

Bro laughs and he is so dizzy right now, his head spinning with surprise as well as the vertigo. It takes a bit for him to heave himself up off the damp tile floor, one hand pressed to the wall for balance and all the blankets piling down around his knees, but he does get up. Kneels there. Throws one feverish arm around Dave's shoulders and hugs him so hard. Because it's been years since he last got to and sometimes he misses crushing the kid to his chest so much it stings.

Dave's hands just kind of settle against his shoulders and damn he is so bad at this. Kid needs hug lessons if he ever wants a girlfriend. Behind Dave's back where he can't see it, Bro has to let himself smile.

He pulls away a second later, sinking down into his blankets again a dizzy, shivering mess. His head is pounding, the nausea curling in his stomach like a hagfish, and he pulls the blankets back up over his shoulders with clammy, feverish hands. God, it's cold and he feels like so much shit. Part of him just wants to curl up right here on the floor but that would probably freak Dave out pretty hard. He leans against the wall instead.

"Take something for that damn fever," Dave says quietly, watching him with worried eyes. He doesn't look nearly as spooked from the dream, though, and Bro is glad for that.

"If I could keep it down."

"Seriously, how are you still cold with all those blankets? You only left me one."

"Fucking swine flu," Bro mutters, tucking Cal next to his chest again now that he has the blankets situated.

He feels kind of guilty actually, because for most of this week it's been Dave taking care of him instead of the other way around. It's been Bro asleep on the futon for hours on end, Dave leaving him cold Chinese and cold pizza and cold heated-from-the-can Campbell's soup to scarf down and then heave up an hour later. It's been Dave walking to the pharmacy and buying probably meth-lab-illegal quantities of cough syrup and aspirin; taking all of Bro's clothes to the laundry mat to wash after he'd sweated his fever into his entire wardrobe, even the shitty acrylic reindeer sweater he'd bought for that ironic gag party last Christmas and never expected to wear again.

Bro leans there against the cold bathroom wall, trying to keep his head from spinning the nausea too far out of control, and Dave watches him all the while, just sitting there silent. He's worried. They're both worried, honestly, but Bro hates making Dave worry because that's supposed to be his job, not Dave's.

Dave frowns and presses a hand to Bro's forehead. "Damn, you're hot."

"Smokin'. You know the ladies love me," he drawls, and it would be funny if his throat didn't feel like a rat's nest.

Dave just rolls his eyes and stands up, hands back in his pockets. He watches Bro for a moment as he tries on his problem solver face and Bro doesn't know why he keeps trying to fix this. You don't fix getting sick. You stick it out and suffer and you tell everybody else to stop freaking out because eventually the damn fever will break and it'll all go back to normal again. Eventually.

It's just so fucking cold, though. Someone swapped his blood for Freon in his sleep or something.

"C'mon, get up," Dave says, grabbing his hand and pulling.

Bro rolls with it even though he's still fighting his vertigo, and he gets up shakily and leans a hand on the sink to keep himself from just slumping back down again. "You got a plan here?"

"Yeah, I got a plan. C'mon," he mutters, shoving his hands back down into his pockets and heading toward his room. Bro follows slowly, hand pressed to the wall with every step as he holds his blankets on with the other. And when Dave opens the door to his room and waves Bro inside, it finally dawns on him what's happening.

They've been living in shitty apartments Dave's entire life, never enough blankets or cough syrup or even decent nutrition to keep a kid healthy. So yeah, Dave's been sick a lot. He's had fevers a lot, and every single time Bro had curled up with him to keep him warm, to keep him company, to keep him from freaking out in delirious confusion. Now Dave's trying to return the favor and Bro can't even help the smile from sliding over his face.

"Heh," he murmurs, going inside. "You're a good kid, Dave."

"Yeah, yeah, I got one condition to this shit. You tell my friends I let you snuggle up with me and I'll take Cal and hide him where you'll never find him. He will be so fucking gone not even Jade's dog will be able to sniff him out."

Bro laughs. "Sure thing." Speaking of Cal, he dumps him out on the floor in the hallway, ignoring Dave's raised eyebrow that he'd been hugging the puppet like a lifeline.

He sinks down on the bed and he's still halfway to freezing but it feels good to lay flat. Stills his head and his stomach and makes thinking so much easier. He can feel the remnants of Dave's body heat in the one thin blanket on the bed, and Dave grabs the thing and spreads it out on top of the mass of covers Bro's already wrapped in before slipping underneath and pressing his warm back to Bro's.

"Get better, okay?" he murmurs, glancing back over his shoulder.

Bro gives him a smile and nods. "Promise."

"Good."

[lucidSeraph]

@lantadyme when are you putting that on Ao3 so I can give it all the kudos, all of them? I love seeing the bros open up to each other, and this is just lovely stuff.

[ProspitDreamer]

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

What It Takes
Chapter 2

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John frowned hard as he concentrated on focusing the twister he was creating around himself. It was difficult to keep it under control while also trying to aim his hammer at the various underlings that managed to teleport their way through. He could usually distract them enough with a puff of air; it was an object they couldn’t see and therefore couldn’t really dodge; and transportalizing wind elsewhere didn’t do much, as they could never get all of it and were always pushed back a bit.

He was keeping them at bay. The real problem was that he couldn’t break free of the mob that surrounded him, to fly to Jade’s gate, to help her.

She wasn’t answering. He tried to use the goggles she’d given him to locate her, but when he looked all he saw were flashes of blinding snow, rain, and lava, and the images were choppy and meant nothing discernable to him.

A pile of underlings materialized above him in what looked like a waterfall of black carapace. John barely dodged in time, flying sideways, nearly flying into his own twister-wall of destruction. The underlings flying around in it reached out, snarling, trying to grab him, and John screamed in frustration.

“Why are there so many of you! Go away! I have to get to Jade!”

He tried, unsuccessfully, to pester her again. She remained unresponsive.

Suddenly, there was a loud crack like thunder and a bright flash of white light above him. John and the underlings’ attention all turned toward the source of disruption, and John saw to his dismay some ridiculously dressed, hideous creature drop out of what looked like a crack in the sky.

John set his jaw, ready to fight this new threat. The thing could fly and didn’t even bother to land before it looked up at him with a maniacal grin. It flew straight at him, baring it’s very pointy, sharp teeth.

John put up his hands and let forth a burst of wind to blow it back. This had the desired effect of blowing the new enemy away from him a bit, but he lost his concentration on the twister and it fell apart. Underlings flew out of it in every direction, most of them teleporting away, but some landing harshly on the checkered ground of the battlefield and exploding into grist.

The creature snarled and screeched, flying around John in a circle, a whirl of orange turning to attack him from behind. At that moment he saw he was being pestered by Vriska- but he didn’t have time to think about that as he had this problem to deal with!

He shot a burst of air at it, but the thing dodged, and John floated, dumbfounded as the creature flew into him. They slammed into the ground, John pinned beneath, as the thing snarled and growled at him, glaring at him with furious insect-like eyes. It had sharp razor claws at the end of its fingers, so that when it pressed its palms against his wrists its claws dug into the checkered ground.

John wriggled with terror. This hideous thing was going to kill him! He was going to die, right here, because some advanced form of underling had gotten the best of him.

“Ghaaaa!” he shouted, blowing a puff of air upwards from his body, trying to shove the thing off. It’s grip on his arms loosened. He managed to wriggle free. He flew into the air and bolted away as fast as he could, but the creature followed him. It could fly as fast as he could, and he was certain that Jack must have genetically created this thing just for the purpose of destroying him.

He tried to shoot back tunnels of air to deter its flight, but it simply dodged them, snarling and barking at him angrily, and though John flew with all his strength, it drew closer. Sweat formed on his forehead and was pulled off by the wind as he tried to break away…

A hand wrapped around his ankle and they both plummeted to the ground. John lost his breath as he hit the checkered earth and started gasping as the creature sat on his back, pinning him. He felt it grab a fistful of his hair and yank his head up as he gasped and struggled to breathe. He started to cry.

“Please don’t kill me please don’t kill me please don’t kill me…”

The creature yanked John’s eyepiece off. He waited for his throat to be slit, or for his head to be cut off, or…

With a satisfied-sounding grunt, the creature shoved his eyepiece roughly back onto his face, this time with the pesterlog to Vriska opened for him to read.

“John, stop running away from me, you stupid 8oy!” she typed, but at the same time the creature that had him pinned snorted and growled, and he was afraid for his life…

“Vriska, I’m not avoiding you, I’m just in a really bad situation at the moment…”

“No you’re not, you idiot! It’s meeeeeeee sitting on top of you!”

John stared in confusion at the words on his eyepiece. He couldn’t comprehend.

“What?”

“It’s a long story, 8ut some of us have 8een a8le to cross over into your session and I came here to help you and the first thing you do is attack me!”

John stopped trying to wriggle free. His brain was trying to process the situation. Vriska was telling him what, exactly? It was hard to concentrate on what she was saying when the creature on top of him kept snarling and barking at the same type Vriska typed.

“John, are you really as stupid as Karkat accuses you of 8eing? Come on, if I was going to kill you, I’d already have done it. Pro8a8ly 8ty times over.”

John tried to turn his head to look at the…troll? that sat on his back.

“Vriska?”

He heard the creature snort.

“My name sounds ridiculous in your mouth. Do us both a favor and don’t say it again.”

The understanding that it was Vriska was still hard for him to believe.

“Okay, Vriska. If that really is you on top of me, would you please let me up?”

She sighed heavily, and then the weight on top of John was gone. He rolled over at sat up, rubbing his arms where she’d pinned him mercilessly to the ground. He was sure he was going to be bruised, probably everywhere.

He sat on the ground, legs sprawled, and looked up at her with the ridiculous Spectagoggles on his face. He took them off to get a better view and squinted in the light. Skaia’s clouds passed peacefully above them, showing him visions that weren’t important to him at the moment. His eyes focused on the…person who stood in front of him, all dressed in orange, with blue fairy wings and a sun on the front of her hoodie. A hoodie that was in the exact same style as his. A god-tier hoodie. John squinted.

“Gog, would you stand up? How can a person as powerful as you look so goofy all the time?” The creature snorted and barked at him, while perfectly intelligible words scrolled across his eyepiece.

John struggled to his feet.

“Is that…are you…how…what…is that noise you’re making? Are you coughing?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes.

“That’s clear-as-day, plain troll vernacular, which apparently you don’t speak. Instead you make weird squeaky, humming noises. Even your speech is inferior to ours.”

“Oh, okay.” he said, unperturbed by her attitude.

John had finally found his balance and brushed himself off.

“Well, let me start this thing over.” he said. He stepped towards her, stuck out his hand, and gave her a goofy smile.

“Hi, Vriska! Welcome to Earth...er...Skaia!”

She snorted and rolled her eyes. She humored him, and shook his hand.

Her skin was cool and smooth. She made an expression of distaste, pulled her hand back, and wiped it off on the side of her pants. John laughed.

“Sorry, I know I’m all sweaty from fighting! But gee, you really did help me…by making me mess up my tornado, which sent them all flying!”

If she hadn’t been used to it, she would have found that goofy grin of his as infuriating as Karkat did. But as it was, she’d seen it a million times, and had found that she’d grown rather attached to it. Maybe, in a weird, unsettling sort of way, she found it to be cute.

She gave him a somewhat sinister smirk.

“You are a ridiculous creature, John Egbert.”

“Uh…thanks, I think.” he said.

“You know, we 8ent pro8ably every rule that paradox space has in order to come here, and we don’t have a lot of time 8efore…”

John saw that Jade was finally answering him. He sighed with huge relief.

“Oh, hang on Vriska, Jade’s answering me!”

Vriska snorted and rolled her eyes for the millionth time. John opened his pesterlog with Jade.

“John, John, guess what?!!? The trolls found a way to come here, to us! Karkat’s with me right now, and he says Vriska’s coming to see you! It’s so exciting!”

Welp. That would have been good to know about ten minutes sooner. John laughed.

“I know, I just found that out myself! Glad you’re safe, Jade.”

“Oh, I am! He saved me and brought me back to my hive…house! And he’s fixing my arm now. I mean, he bandaged it before but then he wasn’t satisfied with that because he did it in a hurry so now he’s re-dressing it…”

“Bandages? Jade, are you hurt?”

“What? No! I mean, yes, but not badly! Karkat’s just fussing for no reason. It’s really cute.”

“…what?”

“Hahaha, he’s barking that he’s not cute, just practical. But I know better! How are things going with Vriska, John?”

John looked over at Vriska, who was standing with arms crossed, tapping her foot.

“I…uh…she’s being kinda impatient.”

He heard her snort.

“I’d better go, Jade. I’ll talk to you later!”

“Okay!”

John closed the pester log and turned to Vriska with a grin.

“You know, you really wasted a prime opportunity for an awesome practical joke.” John said to Vriska. “You gave away who you were way too soon…”

“You were crying like a wiggler and 8egging for your life.”

“Yeah, I know, but a true prankster doesn’t let guilt keep them from finishing their work of art.”

Vriska sighed.

“Despite my feeling very annoyed at you right now, I have no desire to see you suffer, John. In fact, that’s why I came here. To stop that.”

John stared at her, bewildered. He was still finding it hard to ignore the strange, bark-like sounds coming from Vriska’s…well, he was trying not to think of it as ugly…face. It was just so strange.

“Why, what…”

“Aradia travelled ahead into several different futures. She tried every different timeline she could find. It didn’t matter, of course. In every single one of them, all four of you were dead. No matter what actions she chose for us in the present, it always wound up with all of you dying, or at 8est, with unreada8le futures…”

“Vriska, you’re really frightening me. And it’s not just your pointy horns and teeth and eyes.”

She snapped her face towards him.

“I’ll have you know that these eyes are the source of my very powerful vision 8fold, which gives me all the knowledge, all of it!” she snapped, her voice mixing with the text to give emphasis to how upset she was.

“I’m sorry!”

“Hmph.” she said, tossing her hair to the side. “You have no idea how 8eautiful I am in the troll world. I have all the 8eauty, John.”

“I guess…I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it like that. I’ve just never seen a troll before! In real life, I mean!”

She tried to look serious, she did. But instead, when she looked at his dopey face, she ended up laughing. Okay, maybe he was cute, and that made it hard to hate him. She sighed.

“It’s okay. I did expect you to 8e freaked out at first…I thought you were pretty weird and ugly looking when I first saw you, too.”

John frowned.

“8ut I honestly was impressed with how well you defended yourself when you thought I was a monster, as ridiculous as an assumption that was. I am god-tier, after all, and catching you was a little challenging. So…good jo8, John. You passed the test.”

“What test?”

She laughed.

“Ha! The Vriska test! The one that separates wigglers from true trolls.”

“But I’m not a wiggler or a troll.” he said. “I’m a human.”

Vriska found herself laughing again, when she should have been annoyed. How dopey he was!

“That is painfully o8vious.” she said.

“So…wait.” John said, as he studied her with his eyes, trying to take in the strange features- the teeth, the eyes, the horns. Trying to equate this with the friend that he knew as arachnidsGrip, as Vriska, with this person in front of him, was hard. But he thought he could eventually get used to it.

“So…you saw us die?”

“No, Aradia did.”

“What…what did she see?”

Vriska’s smirk vanished now. She stood in front of him very seriously.

“She traced pro8a8ly thirty different possi8le timelines. She said that the scratch was cre8ed in all of them, and in all of them, you humans entered our session after the scratch happened on your side. And then, 8y various different means, you all died. And then usually, we died.”

John swallowed the lump of fear that was growing in his throat.

“In only one timeline did she see you four surviving. And that was this one. The one where we made the decision to come to you, instead.”

John tried to read Vriska’s face. Her eyes looked down to the side, as if she was hiding something, or not saying the whole story. But he wasn’t sure if that’s what that expression meant for a troll.

“Oh, wow. So you came here to save us?”

Her eyes snapped up and he found himself staring into eight very penetrating, fierce, determined pupils.

“No, John Egbert, I did not come here to save you. I came here to tr8n you, so that you can save yourself.”

She stepped up very close to him and stared into his eyes, and he found himself unable, or unwilling, to turn away.

“How easy it would be to make you my puppet and direct you in battle to win.” she said. She waited for John’s fear…

Instead, the goofy boy smiled.

“Oh, I know you wouldn't do that!” he said.

Vriska frowned. Of course she would do that. She always did that. It was how she killed so many trolls to feed her lusus; she was a professional mind-controlling killer.

And yet, somehow, John was right. She wouldn't do that to him. Why wouldn't she do that to him? Probably because it was useless, she decided. He just wouldn’t be intimidated; he was too dopey!

She stepped back. Maybe that kind of resistance would be useful in battle. Probably.

“You’re right. I won’t. Instead, I’m going to teach you how to use your god-tier powers properly.”

“Alright!” John said, sticking one fist up into the air. She sighed. This was going to be a lot of work.

A/N

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

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

[Graven_Image]

...Why is Vriska in Aradia's outift? And with Aradia-colored wings?

[Jeep-Eep]

RESET - 3

OH FREEBIRTH-YES!

I've been waiting for more of this story. I suppose that TT looks like a seadweller version of Troll!Rose?

Edit:

...Why is Vriska in Aradia's outift? And with Aradia-colored wings?

Aff. That is bugging me. Might need to edit that, quiaff?

[Nanakii]

Yaaayy update, man Vriska is meaaan! But yeah, you did mix up the outfits a little (Easy enough to do!). Still, I like how it's going Prospit~.

[ProspitDreamer]

...Why is Vriska in Aradia's outift? And with Aradia-colored wings?

*slaps forehead* OOOPS.

*runs to fix*

It's better now. *embarrassed face* This is why I'm not an artist.

[A Fan]

John, have you heard about Decoy Vriskapus?
Decoy Vriskapus?
She imitates other trolls by stealing their outfits.
Hmm. Stealing their outfits, eh?

OK, I'll stop. Continuing awesome stuffs, Graven ProspitDreamer, but John has seen an image of a troll's face. Terezi's, when she provided a link to Google LOWAS. Of course, I'm sure that's nothing like the real thing. Especially when the real thing is Vriska.

EDIT: Misattribution fail DX

[ProspitDreamer]

John, have you heard about Decoy Vriskapus?
Decoy Vriskapus?
She imitates other trolls by stealing their outfits.
Hmm. Stealing their outfits, eh?

OK, I'll stop. Continuing awesome stuffs, Graven, but John has seen an image of a troll's face. Terezi's, when she provided a link to Google LOWAS. Of course, I'm sure that's nothing like the real thing. Especially when the real thing is Vriska.

hehe, I wrote the story, not Graven, silly. Mistakes all around tonight!

I did know about the Terezi image, but I when I tried to put it into the conversation, I got bogged down in picky detail nonsense. As you said, I didn't think it would lessen his shock at seeing her, especially because she came while he was in the middle of battle (which is confusing enough). But I might have to explain that somehow now :\ I'll work on that.

Thanks for all the comments guys, I don't want errors in my story! Keep 'em coming!

*edit* Okay, I think I got it:

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“I guess…I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it like that. I’ve just never seen a troll before! In real life, I mean!”

I think for John that works.

[SkaianRedeemer]

It's a good quick fix!

EDIT: Six hundredth post apparently. Fwee.

[pimudragonfeline]

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

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It had been years since Rose had been a person to a cat. She wanted to do it right this time knowing better. Unfortunately she couldn’t take Mutie to the Vet’s office to get shots she was too preoccupied, and then was in the medium. She did give Mutie a bath a score of scratches later, brushed Mutie, dragged Mutie out from under the bed, five more scratches, played with Mutie and yarn, one bitten thumb, and trimmed Mutie’s claws another score of scratches. Ran down stairs to get antibiotic ointment for her scratches (It seems her arms had resensitized to the cat scratches over the years.) Then she went to sleep. Mutie was gone a Salamander consort in her place. That darn cat.

[Rimbaum]

Restart, part 1 of ?

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Karkat Vantas stood in the middle of the desert, shielding his eyes from the sun above. It did not shine quite as brightly as the one back on Alternia; it was closer to the average lighting levels in Sgrub, to his senses. It was still pretty damn bright, but at least he wouldn't burn to a crisp just by being outside.

Outside. Hopefully, Equius would finish constructing the initial shelters soon so they could rest in the shade and make some plans for their continued survival in this strange, kinda hot place on a planet that was, on the whole, not quite unfamiliar.

"Karcrab?"

Karkat turned around as a small hand touched his shoulder. It felt was Feferi's, he could tell from the colorful bracelets.

"What?"

"I just want you to know, you're a pretty good leader when you want to be."

"Of course I am", Karkat scoffed.

It was true. When push came to shove, he had done damn well in keeping his fellow trolls from killing each other all over again. It had been a hectic time and it hurt Karkat's brain to recall...

They had all woken up in the main computer room of the laboratory in the Veil. Karkat had been the first to wake up. He had counted ten other trolls there, all alive, breathing, and asleep. For a moment, he had wondered where Aradia had gone. Then he noticed Tavros had his original legs again, and Vriska was missing an arm and eye. It didn't take Karkat long to realise they had all reverted, as it were, to their physical states right before the game had begun. Aradia was missing because she was dead again, Karkat realized. He had no time to dwell on that -- he remembered all the events and had to make sure things wouldn't go wrong the moment the others woke up, for they would surely remember as well...

"Sollux", Karkat called out as he came back out of his flashback, "how's your head?"

"Pretty good, KK. I'd kind of exthpected the voithes to come back but tho far it'th been remarkably thilent. Relatively thpeaking."

"Great. Does your telekinesis thing still work?"

Sollux hovered a good five feet above the ground in reply, appleberry sparks surrounding him.

"Are there any Earth human settlements you can see from up there?"

"I dunno, KK. Let me thee."

Sollux climbed another fifteen feet, held a hand above his eyes and slowly panned around.

"Well... there'th thome kind of community a fair way two the west... and thomething large and bright further two the south", the psychic revealed as he went. "The retht ith jutht more dethert."

"Wonderful. Maybe if we go there we can find out where the hell this is", Karkat said approvingly. "Equius, you keep doing what you're doing. Sollux, try and get a connection to the Human kids. Terezi and I are going to take a hike."

"What do I doooooooo, fearless leader?" Vriska teasingly asked from a half-constructed shelter.

"Stay outta trouble."

Kanaya stepped forward. "Karkat, with all due respect to both your choices made as our leader, and Terezi, I believe it would be better if I were to visit the Human settlement with you instead."

Terezi turned to Kanaya, looking the tiniest bit insulted.

"I suppose regular yellow eyes would frighten most uninformed Humans well enough", Kanaya explained. "Yours, on the other hand, are completely red. Also, you have a tendency to... cackle."

"And you have a tendency to use overly expensive words, but okay", Terezi conceded. "I'll just stay here and keep an eye on these guys."

Karkat pulled Kanaya away by a sleeve.

"Let's get going already!"

A/N:

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Unless Word lied to me, there's a hidden joke in the size of this story.

Sorry I didn't comment on this earlier, but good luck with the restart, Kawa. Sorry things couldn't work out for you better with the group effort. I look forward to seeing what stories you have to tell, rather than what the group has to tell.

[CollectiveInsanity]

Morning

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The last thing Slick ever wanted to wake up to was a brightly colored clock hanging in his face when there was a pounding in his head already. He moved to smash it against the wall, which was, thankfully, gray, but even that movement sent a parade through his head. He groaned and yanked the covers over his head as best he could. At least the sheets weren’t an obnoxious green like the clock had been-
Slick froze.

A green clock.

“God. Damn it.” He snarled and reached out to snatch up the clock and chuck it against the nearest wall. He winced again at the crash it made. It was bad enough he felt like he’d been caught in one of Deuce’s explosions, but if he was in the Felt mansion everyone was going to get a taste of metal in their gut. He forced himself to sit up, because no matter how comfortable the bed may be, he felt more like a caged animal in this sensibly colored room than he did in his own.

“Good morning, Jack.” Slick jumped and turned to stare at Doc Scratch, who was sitting in a chair at the foot of the bed. How long he’d been there, Slick couldn’t say. But he wasn’t about to speak rationally and ask, so he fell back on his normal routine.

“What the fuck are you doing, cue ball? Why am I here?! What the hell is going on.” Slick started ranting, but his head practically exploded from his own loud voice and he finished it a little softer. To his everlasting fury, Scratch smirked as well as a being without facial features could smirk.

“It’s quite simple, Jack.”

“Don’t me Jack, asshole.”

“Very well, Slick.” He said calmly, and Slick wished he knew where his horse hitcher was. He would give this smarmy bastard the most senseless drubbing of his life. “You were intoxicated last night when you came to my apartment, and after lecturing me for about five minutes, you promptly passed out on my living room floor. I decided to take pity on you and allow you to reside in my guest bedroom for the night. It is as simple as that.” Scratch leaned back in the chair slightly, seeming pleased with himself.

“That’s such utter bullshit! Why the hell would I come here when I’m blind drunk, of all places?!” He said, trying to keep his rage at bay. He could stab this asshole later, first he needed his clothes, his hat, and, by proxy, his Scottie dogs.

“That, you would have to tell me yourself. However, I did take the liberty of making sure your things were in proper order, along with some pain medication. You are free to leave when you feel ready to.” Scratch rose, his voice as impassive as ever, and gestured to a desk on the other side of the room, which had Slick’s jacket neatly folded on it, with his hat sitting on top, and a glass of water with a pill next to it.

If Slick had been the type of man to thank people, he would have been doing so, and with great vigor. But as it was, he just shakily got out of bed, and glared at Scratch before going to grab his things. After he downed the pill and checked to make sure his Scottie dogs were all in order, he forced himself to turn to Scratch to at least give him a slight recognition of thanks.

But the bastard was gone. Slick paused briefly before snorting and considering the window as a viable way out. He didn’t feel like dealing with the air of unconcerned smugness the cue ball always had around him. But right before he vaulted out the window in what was probably a terrible idea, he reached under his hat and dropped a single Scottie dog on the bed.

It was his own, slightly hungover way of saying thanks.

Delurking just to post a short little thing I whipped up after reading the updates. I like to think that Scratch makes sure Slick doesn't keel over because he's so important to the timeline.

[Katrika]

Restart, part 1 of ?

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Karkat Vantas stood in the middle of the desert, shielding his eyes from the sun above. It did not shine quite as brightly as the one back on Alternia; it was closer to the average lighting levels in Sgrub, to his senses. It was still pretty damn bright, but at least he wouldn't burn to a crisp just by being outside.

Outside. Hopefully, Equius would finish constructing the initial shelters soon so they could rest in the shade and make some plans for their continued survival in this strange, kinda hot place on a planet that was, on the whole, not quite unfamiliar.

"Karcrab?"

Karkat turned around as a small hand touched his shoulder. It felt was Feferi's, he could tell from the colorful bracelets.

"What?"

"I just want you to know, you're a pretty good leader when you want to be."

"Of course I am", Karkat scoffed.

It was true. When push came to shove, he had done damn well in keeping his fellow trolls from killing each other all over again. It had been a hectic time and it hurt Karkat's brain to recall...

They had all woken up in the main computer room of the laboratory in the Veil. Karkat had been the first to wake up. He had counted ten other trolls there, all alive, breathing, and asleep. For a moment, he had wondered where Aradia had gone. Then he noticed Tavros had his original legs again, and Vriska was missing an arm and eye. It didn't take Karkat long to realise they had all reverted, as it were, to their physical states right before the game had begun. Aradia was missing because she was dead again, Karkat realized. He had no time to dwell on that -- he remembered all the events and had to make sure things wouldn't go wrong the moment the others woke up, for they would surely remember as well...

"Sollux", Karkat called out as he came back out of his flashback, "how's your head?"

"Pretty good, KK. I'd kind of exthpected the voithes to come back but tho far it'th been remarkably thilent. Relatively thpeaking."

"Great. Does your telekinesis thing still work?"

Sollux hovered a good five feet above the ground in reply, appleberry sparks surrounding him.

"Are there any Earth human settlements you can see from up there?"

"I dunno, KK. Let me thee."

Sollux climbed another fifteen feet, held a hand above his eyes and slowly panned around.

"Well... there'th thome kind of community a fair way two the west... and thomething large and bright further two the south", the psychic revealed as he went. "The retht ith jutht more dethert."

"Wonderful. Maybe if we go there we can find out where the hell this is", Karkat said approvingly. "Equius, you keep doing what you're doing. Sollux, try and get a connection to the Human kids. Terezi and I are going to take a hike."

"What do I doooooooo, fearless leader?" Vriska teasingly asked from a half-constructed shelter.

"Stay outta trouble."

Kanaya stepped forward. "Karkat, with all due respect to both your choices made as our leader, and Terezi, I believe it would be better if I were to visit the Human settlement with you instead."

Terezi turned to Kanaya, looking the tiniest bit insulted.

"I suppose regular yellow eyes would frighten most uninformed Humans well enough", Kanaya explained. "Yours, on the other hand, are completely red. Also, you have a tendency to... cackle."

"And you have a tendency to use overly expensive words, but okay", Terezi conceded. "I'll just stay here and keep an eye on these guys."

Karkat pulled Kanaya away by a sleeve.

"Let's get going already!"

A/N:

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Unless Word lied to me, there's a hidden joke in the size of this story.

Sorry I didn't comment on this earlier, but good luck with the restart, Kawa. Sorry things couldn't work out for you better with the group effort. I look forward to seeing what stories you have to tell, rather than what the group has to tell.

Agreed. Best of luck, and I'll be looking forward to the stories!

[mythmonster2]

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

Sanguino Deos

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They had won. Jack fell to the floor, bearing injuries that individually could have taken down the Black King. Many of them were injured; a few had even fallen unconscious in the course of the battle. But they had won. Karkat once again stood at a door, this time broken into sixteen pieces. He turned to John, nervous, but John only nodded and pushed forward Karkat’s hand to touch the knob.

The door opened.

They were unsure of what would lay behind it. Whether they would be taken back to their old worlds, or whether they would go on to create their own, or something completely different. The blinding light emanating from the door did not help them in predicting their future at all. But they stood, the ones still capable of doing so also carrying those who had fallen in the battle. Karkat was again paralyzed, until a hand took his. Terezi was eager to enter, and she pulled in Karkat, cackling the whole way. Slowly, one by one or in pairs, the rest entered into the universe they had created.

It was a good one. The trees and foliage grew greatly under the not-too-bright sun. The animals roamed the world freely. The seas churned and flowed. They had all worked on their own parts, respective to their own powers.

Some were more conceptual. Aradia and Dave co-created the flow of time in the universe, and they watched over it with a steady gaze, keeping track of all timelines. Kanaya and Jade teamed up to make the Initiation: the single explosion that would lead to everything that everyone else had made. Vriska gave the universe the gift of chance to let even the impossible have a chance to occur. Everyone had a part.

But everyone got a chance to create a tangible part of the world as well. John made the winds, to allow the sands to shift and the waters to flow. Rose allowed her most cherished gift to be accessed by all of the planet: magic. Dave put precious metals into the earth, to be one day exposed and made beautiful. Jade, from her experience in the Land of Frost and Frogs, let snow fall upon the north and south of their planet. Aradia thought and made death, knowing that all should end at its appropriate time. Tavros made the creatures of the land, letting them run and charge and fly. Sollux made the phenomenon known as electricity, basing it off of psychic powers, though he had long lost them. Karkat pumped blood into all creatures, giving them life. Candy red, beautiful life. Nepeta created the tall grasses, to let the hunters of the world introduce Aradia’s gift. Kanaya created the tall forests that would hide the prey and protect the crafty. Terezi brought forth that which she had never seen, the most majestic of all beasts: dragons. Vriska thought smaller, creating all sorts of bugs to spread all over the world. Equius created the moon to fill the Void of the night. Gamzee crafted the world’s shores, though he inadvertently made them twisted and random. Eridan brought up islands from the sea, for refuge of the hopeless. Feferi brought the seas to fill the world where the land did not.

But all of this paled in comparison to their greatest creation. It combined the best of both the races: human kindness and troll durability, troll strength and human ingenuity. And none of its members would be held down by a rigid caste system. The race was a masterpiece, and that was one of the few things that all agreed on.

What they did not know was that it also had the darkest of both sides. Human ingenuity made them crafty killers and thieves. Troll durability and strength made them destructive in fights. But they had one thing shared by both races, and that was ambition. They wanted freedom, they wanted control over their world, they wanted power.

They wanted the gods to bleed.

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

[Brevity]

Baccanostuck

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DefaultProtagonist [DP] opened memo on board Funky Jazz Train Ride

DP: Just wanted to check on everyone now that we're all in the game

TearfulSavior responded to memo

TS: oh god firo, why is this place so big and scary ;-;
TS: and i can't find nice anywhere ;-;

ExplosiveRogue [ER] responded to memo

ER: Im fine jacuzzi dont worry
TS: oh nice, i'm so glad you're safe ;-;
TS: if anything happened to you i wouldn't know what to do ;-;
ER: Are those
ER: Are those rocket launchers
ER: Aimed at giant bombs
ER: I have to try these babies out right now
TS: i don't think that's a good idea nice ;-;
ER: Oh god look at all these explosions
ER: Oh god oh god oh god oh yes
ER: I think i need a towel
TS: nice i did not need to know that ;-;
DP: Well at least you two got into your worlds safely
DP: Don't worry Jacuzzi, once you get farther into the game you'll be able to meet up with Nice
TS: really ;-;
DP: Yes

AdolescentSurvivalist [AS] responded to memo

AS: what Have you Gotten us Into this Time firo.
AS: i'm Trapped inside My room In the Middle of A pit Of caramel
DP: Hey, I thought we were just playing a harmless game too.
DP: I didn't expect it to have world-changing consequences.

Passionate Hydrangea [PH] responded to memo

PH: AND THAT'S THE FIRST MISTAKE YOU MADE WHEN PLAYING THIS GAME FIRO
PH: and that's the first mistake!
PH: YOU SHOULD'VE REALIZED THAT ALL GAMES EVER PLAYED IN THE HISTORY OF MANKIND HAVE CAUSED IREVERSABLE EFFECTS TO OUR PLANET
PH: that's right!
PH: LIKE DURING THE LAST CAMPAIGN OF ALEXANDER THE GREAT WHEN HE WAS DEFEATED BY LIU BEI IN A GAME OF TENNIS
PH: but Isaac, tennis hasn't been invented yet in Alexander the great's time!
PH: AU CONTRAIRE MY DEAR MIRIA, THE CHINESE ARE AN ADVANCED CIVILIZATION WHO'VE INVENTED MANY THINGS WE WESTERNERS HAVE PICKED UP ONLY NOW, AND ONE OF THESE THINGS IS TENNIS
PH: incredible!
TS: at least you guys are together isaac miria ;-;
TS: i sure hope nice and i can reunite soon ;-;
AS: ugh I have Marzipan all Over my Feet
AS: why Is this World so Full of Candy
TS: its better than what this world has ;-;
TS: theres a lot of really pointy spikes and im afraid i might poke an eye out if i trip ;-;
AS: eh I'd rather Be in Your world
AS: felmet Used to Drive burning Hot pokers Through my Retinas
AS: painful But over A period Of 10 Years it Seems like A cakewalk Compared to The other shit He's put Me through
TS: ;-;
DP: Too much information Czes
PH: hey Isaac?
PH: YES MIRIA
PH: is Czeslaw a guru?
PH: WHY DO YOU ASK MIRIA
PH: well aren't gurus supposed to have magic powers that make them resistant to pain? maybe he has guru powers that he's never told us about!
PH: THAT IS A POSSIBILITY MIRIA BUT WE NEED TO SEE HIM LEVITATE FIRST. LEVITATION IS A SURE SIGN OF GURUDOM AND ONCE WE SEE CZESLAW LEVITATE WE CAN ASK HIM TO TEACH US HIS MYSTIC GURU SECRETS
PH: incredible!
AS: you Guys are Impossible

MurderMaster [MM] responded to memo

MM: God these imps are so fun to stab!
MM: Too bad they blow up instead of bleeding to death though!
ER: Oh they do do they
ER: Im going to need a lot more towels than i have right now
ER: Be right back Jacuzzi ill talk to you later

ExplosiveRogue [ER] ceased responding to memo

TS: uwah nice don't go ;-;
TS: why did you include this guy too ;-;
TS: he's a complete nutjob ;-;
MM: Says the guy screwing the chick with the bomb fetish!
MM: But I aint passing judgement, theres nothing wrong with that!
MM: POW! Right in the kisser! Hang on you bozos I'm gonna kill some more of these wimps!

Murder Master [MM] ceased responding to memo

DP: Well at least he won't be using his talents on us for now.
DP: And I already told you earlier Jacuzzi, Ronnie was the one who sent out copies of the game, I only found out he was joining when he told me was my server player by trying to stab me with every knife in the kitchen.
TS: i'm just thankful he's the only knife wielding nutjob in this game right now ;-;

Expert Disemboweler [ED] responded to memo

E >>p-shaw, this game's a little too easy if you ask me
AS: oh God
ED : >> oh hey there little guy, how's that arm of yours

AS: stay Away from Me

Adolescent Survivalist [AS] ceased responding to memo

ED : >> jeez I was just being nice to the guy
ED : >> it's not like I can kill him permanently anyway
DP: Vino what did I told you about threatening the other players?
ED : >> hey I was just making some small talk, nothing wrong with that
TS: well he was being nice Firo ;-;
TS: even if he's really really scary ;-;
ED : >> hey now that really hurts me emotionally, ya know
ED : >> maybe you should be more sensitive of other people's feelings
PH: HE'S RIGHT JACUZZI
PH: definitely right!
PH: JUST BECAUSE YOU GO ON KILLING SPREES DIRECTED AT EVIL DOERS MULTIPLE TIMES DOESN'T MEAN YOU DON'T HAVE FEELINGS
PH: assassins have feelings too!
TS: i gotta go everyone ;-;
TS: i think an imp's heading into my room ;-;
ED : >> you can take 'em
ED : >> I'm killing these things with one hand tied behind my back

Tearful Savior [TS] ceased responding to memo

ED : >> man this game is soooo easy
ED : >> I thought you were gonna give me a challenge man
DP: That's because we didn't prototype anything dangerous to our sprites.
DP: Apparently what we put into our sprites affects the creatures in game.
ED : >>man you shoulda told me earlier
ED : >> I'd have prototyped myself if I did
DP: I don't think you're supposed to do that Vino.
ED : >> whatever
ED : >> oh hey whats this
ED : >> looks like soomeone prototyped the flying pussyfoot
ED : >> some of the imps look like trains now
DP: What!? Who prototyped a train into their kernel sprite!?

IntrepidCourier [IC] responded to memo

IC: oopS
IC: sorrY abouT thaT everyonE
DP: Rachel what did you do!?
DP: What did you do!
IC: looK i waS abouT tO placE a deaD spideR i founD wheN thE kernelspritE jusT fleW towardS thE traiN
ED : >>now I'm feeling rather reluctant about killing these imps
ED : >> I met the most beautiful girl in the world on board the flying pussyfoot and that's where we all first met
ED : >> there's no way I'm going to kill anything that reminds me of my memories on board that train
PH: VINO IS RIGHT
PH: yes he is!
PH: WE CAN'T JUST MERCILESSLY SLAUGHTER OUR PRECIOUS MEMORIES
PH: they're very very important!
ED : >> and now I'm okay with it
ED : >> be right back everyone, gonna go kill some precious memories

Expert Disemboweler [ED] ceased responding to memo

PH: ISNT VINO SUCH A GREAT MAN MIRIA
PH: how come, Isaac!
PH: HE REALIZED THAT IN DIFFUCLT TIMES LIKE THESE WE HAVE TO MAKE SACRIFICES EVEN IF WE HAVE TO KILL OUR MEMORIES
PH: you're so right Isaac!
PH: LETS GO FOLLOW HIS EXAMPLE MIRIA AND KILL OUR MEMORIES
PH: let's go hang ourselves upside down until the rushing of blood into our heads gives us amnesia!
PH: THATS RIGHT

Passionate Hydrangea [PH] ceased responding to memo

DP: Well at least everyone's okay, right Rachel?
IC: iT coulD bE worsE FirO
IC: i guesS i'lL gO explorE thiS neW worlD noW
DP: Good luck. Might as well close this memo too.

Intrepid Courier [IC] ceased responding to memo
Default Protagonist[DP] closed memo

prototyping the train was not something that I expected them to do.Well, no matter.

A/N

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I checked the last thread and I saw that no one made a baccano! crossover yet, so I decided to do this rather than update my pokemon/homestuck crossover.

I practically demand more of this.

[Varkarrus]

GUYS can someone make a macro notifier but for wizardstuck???

[Path]

@Path: What was that? Whispers of an overarching plot? That'll be fantastic if/when it happens.

I suppose, less an overarching plot than a solid timeline. All these blocks fit together somehow. But I'm not sure in what order. I have no plans for shaking up the world (which is, of course, how you write a story), merely shaking up individuals (which is how you write a drabble), but all the same...
Maybe I'll write out an actual timeline for it sometime. For instance, we know Jack worked for the Black King before he became Spades Slick. Somewhere along the line he started the Midnight Crew and had a comfortable thoughtless relationship with Droog before (something happened). I don't know yet which of those came first, as I completely assume that Droog was the second member of the Crew, and for awhile, it was just him and Slick.
He also has this love-hate-frustrated understanding with Problem Sleuth, before (something happened) and they tried to murder each other, leading to Slick briefly seeing Hysterical Dame....
And then of course Snowman waltzes destructively through his life and wreaks havoc no matter when she is.

Maybe it is just about time for a recap.

[RogerMexico]

Thanks for the comments guys!

And now for some in return:

@lantadyme - "Blackout" was amazing. It's good to see the Striders having un-ironic conversations. Actually, you know what? Scratch that--everything you write is amazing.

@ProspitDreamer - "What it Takes" is still excellent, but I feel that John is the kind of person that would never think of anyone as "ugly", no matter their species. Just my personal opinion, though. Also, the sentence structure is a little awkward, and I think Vriska's thought process could benefit from an alternative to "dopey". However, these are just niggling little technical problems: the story itself is excellent!

@Jim - Thank you for the advice! I will keep that in mind when I am writing the next part.

Speaking of which, I think I will get started on that in between doing laundry and working on my art project.

[anonymousComrade]

Just posting to say that people actually liking Crossing Over is a little surprising, at least

After rereading the last few chapters I was all "oh my god deus ex machina everywhere and people all being buddies with the ones that killed them, what was I thinking" but apparently some people like it, regardless of how determined I am to hate myself

Also I seriously doubt I'm capable of writing a bad end but I never planned for one so eh, no big deal

But when I finish this epilogue

Oh man

You'd better order your insulin NOW if you want to survive because it's shaping up to be the sappiest shit I've ever written, and that's saying something

[lantadyme]

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

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It had been years since Rose had been a person to a cat. She wanted to do it right this time knowing better. Unfortunately she couldn’t take Mutie to the Vet’s office to get shots she was too preoccupied, and then was in the medium. She did give Mutie a bath a score of scratches later, brushed Mutie, dragged Mutie out from under the bed, five more scratches, played with Mutie and yarn, one bitten thumb, and trimmed Mutie’s claws another score of scratches. Ran down stairs to get antibiotic ointment for her scratches (It seems her arms had resensitized to the cat scratches over the years.) Then she went to sleep. Mutie was gone a Salamander consort in her place. That darn cat.

I love Meowgon and this is adorable.

Morning

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The last thing Slick ever wanted to wake up to was a brightly colored clock hanging in his face when there was a pounding in his head already. He moved to smash it against the wall, which was, thankfully, gray, but even that movement sent a parade through his head. He groaned and yanked the covers over his head as best he could. At least the sheets weren’t an obnoxious green like the clock had been-
Slick froze.

A green clock.

“God. Damn it.” He snarled and reached out to snatch up the clock and chuck it against the nearest wall. He winced again at the crash it made. It was bad enough he felt like he’d been caught in one of Deuce’s explosions, but if he was in the Felt mansion everyone was going to get a taste of metal in their gut. He forced himself to sit up, because no matter how comfortable the bed may be, he felt more like a caged animal in this sensibly colored room than he did in his own.

“Good morning, Jack.” Slick jumped and turned to stare at Doc Scratch, who was sitting in a chair at the foot of the bed. How long he’d been there, Slick couldn’t say. But he wasn’t about to speak rationally and ask, so he fell back on his normal routine.

“What the fuck are you doing, cue ball? Why am I here?! What the hell is going on.” Slick started ranting, but his head practically exploded from his own loud voice and he finished it a little softer. To his everlasting fury, Scratch smirked as well as a being without facial features could smirk.

“It’s quite simple, Jack.”

“Don’t me Jack, asshole.”

“Very well, Slick.” He said calmly, and Slick wished he knew where his horse hitcher was. He would give this smarmy bastard the most senseless drubbing of his life. “You were intoxicated last night when you came to my apartment, and after lecturing me for about five minutes, you promptly passed out on my living room floor. I decided to take pity on you and allow you to reside in my guest bedroom for the night. It is as simple as that.” Scratch leaned back in the chair slightly, seeming pleased with himself.

“That’s such utter bullshit! Why the hell would I come here when I’m blind drunk, of all places?!” He said, trying to keep his rage at bay. He could stab this asshole later, first he needed his clothes, his hat, and, by proxy, his Scottie dogs.

“That, you would have to tell me yourself. However, I did take the liberty of making sure your things were in proper order, along with some pain medication. You are free to leave when you feel ready to.” Scratch rose, his voice as impassive as ever, and gestured to a desk on the other side of the room, which had Slick’s jacket neatly folded on it, with his hat sitting on top, and a glass of water with a pill next to it.

If Slick had been the type of man to thank people, he would have been doing so, and with great vigor. But as it was, he just shakily got out of bed, and glared at Scratch before going to grab his things. After he downed the pill and checked to make sure his Scottie dogs were all in order, he forced himself to turn to Scratch to at least give him a slight recognition of thanks.

But the bastard was gone. Slick paused briefly before snorting and considering the window as a viable way out. He didn’t feel like dealing with the air of unconcerned smugness the cue ball always had around him. But right before he vaulted out the window in what was probably a terrible idea, he reached under his hat and dropped a single Scottie dog on the bed.

It was his own, slightly hungover way of saying thanks.

Slick really wouldn't be able to keep himself together without people picking up after his messes, would he? XD Scratch is the nicest guy.

@Seraph: uploaded promptly for you. :x
@RogerMexico: Thanks man. They will be utterly unable to talk about anything seriously for at least a year after that conversation. All the serious has been used up in the house.