MSPA Fanfiction VI: Trashy Rainbow Drinker Fanfiction

[Sporkaganza]

Well it's not like I have any free time or anything, but this needed to get written before any more updates came.

Voices

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Face hurts. Shoulders hurt, arms hurt, hands and wrists and knees. Everything fucking hurts. Why? Try to remember why…
> this is so completely illegal.
what?
>this is no behavior for a hero
im not a fucking hero
Damn right. Some kid I raised. Can’t even fucking fall with irony.
shut up
That’s right, don’t listen to them, listen to us.
who are you
You need to become god tier.
>you need to seek justice.
You need to continue lying right there.
You must get more power. You must become god tier. Trust me, I know everything.
No, trust us. Stay where you are, never get up. Die and be with us in our bubbles. Rescue us.
okay
D4V3 G3T UP
>you have to take jack on, it is your duty.
No, you must destroy Jack and all like him by helping Rose.
Yes, and the best way to do that is to die.
D4V3 G3T UP!
Yes, get up, and help Rose destroy the Green Sun. It is your greater purpose in the grand scheme of things.
>enough of this grandiloquence and these huge sweeping plans! you need to fight jack, he must be punished.
No, you’re not fighting anyone. You suck at fighting. Stay right where you are and stop causing trouble.
Yes, stay right there and die so you can be with us.
D4V3 G3T UP GOG D4MM1T, 1 H4V3 M4JOR PROBL3MS H3R3

Voices. There are too many; you can’t keep a thought straight long enough to follow it through to the end. Which voice is yours? You can’t even tell. Are any of them? Which one do you trust?

How many times have I told you not to play with swords when I'm not around?
>this kind of failure is not permissable.
You are most certainly a failure.
We don't care whether you fail, as long as you die.
D4V3, G3T UP. 1 N33D YOU

That one. You know that one. It’s familiar. It knows your name.

Stop wasting time. You must become god-tier. You will not accomplish it but you must make the attempt.
>you need to step up. jack has to pay for this.
You just lie your ass right there and stay out of trouble. Stop getting hurt.
D4V3, PL34SE G3T UP…1 C4NT LOOS3 YOU
Listen to your brother, listen to us. Stay right where you are. You don’t want to move.
You’re no hero.
You’re just trouble.
D4V3, PL34SE G3T UP…1 LOV3 YOU

That one. That’s the one you trust. That’s the one you answer.

This is beautiful and sweet and I love it!

But, um... I think you mean "LOS3" and not "LOOS3" near the end. :/

Other than that yes this is awesome.

[RogerMexico]

Alright, here it is, kiddos. Sorry for the wait.

RESET - 5

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> Eridan: Seriously, stop being on fire.

You sigh, and wish that this wasn't a common occurence.

Fuckin Roz. You still feel stupid for trying to solicit caliginous feelings when you first contacted her--the explosion of your computer was well deserved. And you'd understand if she still harbored a grudge against you for killing her matesprit. You may not have done a very good job of it seeing as the victim in question got up and chainsawed you in half shortly afterwards, but as they say, it's the thought that counts. It's these goddamn caliginous flirtations that you don't understand.

And it would be nice if she didn't blow up your fuckin computer and set you on fire every time you talked to her. She could do worse though. Requsitioning a new computer is simple enough.

Oh yeah, your clothes are still burning. That is still a thing that is happening.

You spread your fingers out in front of you and call upon the powers of wwhite science. Brilliant tendrils snake out from your fingertips, extinguishing the flames and restoring your uniform to its original, non-charred state. Thank god you thought to use your science powers to fire-proof yourself after that first incident or you'd be dealing with a lot worse than burnt clothes. You allow yourself a small smirk: letting you keep your science powers was probably the only good thing that fuckin game did for you. Too bad it ruined everything else.

You'd happily give anything for things to go back to the way they were.

Back before everything came crashing down.

> Author: For Christ's sake, how about some backstory?

What are you looking at me for? I'm just some dumb self-insert! Ask him!

> Eridan: Backstory. Now.

Well, your new computer isn't going to get here for a bit, and it's not like you don't have to relive that fuckin day every five minutes.

After the twelve of you had beat SGrub and run off to hide in a meteor in the Veil, you did some things you weren't proud of.

Terrible things.

Terrible things involving putting holes in people with the power of science.

Terrible things that ended with you getting chainsawed in half by an angry rainbow drinker with a hole through her middle.

Yeah, let's not go to far into that. As a matter of fact, you'd prefer not to think about what happened afterwards either. It involved a lot of being dead, and then being alive again while everyone else wished you were dead. All in all, it was probably not one of the high points of your life.

Anyway, you all beat the big bad, won the joint human/troll session, and watched as Karkat and John opened the door together. Well, almost everyone did. You were otherwise occupied in a manner that'd you'd rather not explain right now. Anyways, for some reason you woke up not on Earth or some new planet, but rather back on Alternia.

> Eridan: Be Past Eridan.

Wwhatevver.

You are surprised by your sudden return to consciousness. You are even more surprised by the twin moons on the horizon. Most shocking, however, is the fact that you are completely and utterly alone. Again.

Dammit.

You can feel your eyes tearing up from the sheer relief of being out of that nightmare, and from the fear that the others have left you behind. You quickly wipe the tears away. You resolved to grow up and be a better troll after what you did, and by god you're going to do it.

You fire up your glasses for the first time in ages, looking for any sign of your fifteen...acquaintances. But the screen is blank--you see no trolltags, no chumhandles. You begin to feel that same old sense of despair again, when you notice a blinking message.

"ectoBiologist [EB] is now online!"

"carcinoGeneticist [CG] is now online!"

"cuttlefishCuller [CC] is now online!"

and on and on, a rainbow of text exploding into view. And that's when it hits you.

You've won.

It's all over.

You lose all semblance of control and fall to the ground, weeping tears of relief and pure, unadulterated joy. You are finally free.

After a span of several minutes, you notice that no-one has bothered to message you. With a sinking heart, you realize that you may be free of the game, but you haven't escaped the consequences of your actions. They still haven't forgiven you for what you did, and frankly, neither have you.

Well, time to prove to them once and for all that you are a new troll.

> Past Eridan: Fast forward. This is getting boring.

Over the course of the next few perigees, you do your best to monitor the activities of your companions over Trollian. The humans have, for some unknown reason, been transformed into trolls, and are doing their best to integrate into society. The rest of the group are trying to get on with their lives, pursuing the childhood dreams cut short by a hail of meteors. And through it all, a common cause unites them: preparing for Feferi's plot to dethrone the current Empress and start a new, enlightened era of the Alternian Empire.

Everything seems to be going well from what you can see. There are a few minor hang-ups, however. Equius refuses to lend his support to a cause that would upset the social order of his beloved Empire. Three perigees into the preparations, recruitment ships show up on Alternia. Some, like Equius, Nepeta, and Terezi, join up and are shipped offworld. Others, like Karkat, Vriska, John, and Dave, go underground, risking their lives to continue in directly aiding Feferi. You personally join the Empress's personal bodyguard, in order to put yourself in the ideal position for aiding your companion's little revolt. Through this all, you watch your friends, wanting desperately to contact them, but afraid of the inevitable rejection.

And so it is that one day, ten bilunar perigees and twenty-five solar cycles after you woke up to find yourself alone on an Alternian hillside, you are in your respiteblock in the Imperial Palace, putting on your best uniform for the Coronation Day festivities. Recently, the little group of rebels has gone dark on Trollian, and you are starting to become worried. No matter--you have important duties to perform today, and any slip-ups are subject to an immediate culling. You need to be 100% focused for this.

You report to your post, and your unit escorts Her Imperial Condescension to the throne room to review the Empire's most distinguished troops. The Empress sits in her regal throne, and your concentration takes a major hit as you recognize a familiar face in the assembled ranks: Equius stands proudly with his squad of Archeradicators, almost directly in front of the throne. You begin to wonder dazedly how he is managing to hold a bow when he recognizes you. He face blanches behind his dark glasses, but strangely, he doesn't sweat. You file that interesting detail away for later, and return your attention to guarding the Empress.

The ceremony is painfully dull, and you begin to contemplate shooting yourself with your own rifle when the doors to the throne room slam open. You nearly drop your gun in shock, and then nearly drop it again when you realize who the intruder is.

It's Feferi.

Behind her stand the trolls that disappeared when the recruitment ships came: John and Dave stand side by side, wielding an enormous hammer and an especially nasty-looking sword. Vriska is smirking and tossing her dice. Tavros and Gamzee are behind her, Tavros with an uncharacteristically fierce expression, and Gamzee with an unsettlingly grim one. Karkat is right behind Feferi, brandishing dual sickles, already unleashing a storm of expletives at the shocked onlookers.

"I am here for my throne," says Feferi in a voice that brooks no argument. "I would appreciate if we could do this without bloodshed, but we are prepared to take it from you by force."

Your heart swells with pride at the bravery of your friends, and you begin to raise your weapon and open your mouth to declare your support for Feferi when the Empress smiles and snaps her fingers.

Instantly, guards spring at the group and subdue them with almost no struggle. That's when you realize a very unfortunate fact: in all their planning they forgot to account for something.

You are still kids.

You no longer have your game given powers and levels. You can no longer toss these adults across the room like they were so much cardboard.

In short, you're fucked.

Feferi is dragged before the Empress, and as your one-time moirail struggles against the guards holding her, she sees your horrified face and all the fight goes out of her.

The Empress stands.

"Little girl," she says in a voice like shards of coral, "you are very foolish. And now you must suffer the consequences."

With one swift movement, she thrusts her 2x3dent through Feferi's chest.

And the girl falls to the ground, dead.

And you scream.

And everything shatters into a million little pieces.

A/N

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Well, now you all know what happened to Feferi.

16/16 CHARACTERS ACCOUNTED FOR

1/? CHARACTERS RE-KILLED

This one took me ages to finish because I kept getting distracted by stuff like Dragon Age and Minecraft and Fooly Cooly, but I sat down tonight with the intent to finish it and banged out pretty much the whole "Past Eridan" section in one sitting.

I hope you're not too mad at me for killing Feferi again.

Actually I don't really care.

ARE YOU NEXT????

Comment dump will come later, because I have to drive back to school in the morning so I can get to work. Enjoy!

[Hazel]

Emesis requested Rose/Terezi in the deluge of lesbians currently in the RomArt thread. I AM HERE TO DELIVER. ArmsAreLoud presents...

Rose Lalonde: Ace Attorney

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"OBJ3CT1ON YOUR HONOR! MS. L4LOND3 1S B4DG3R1NG TH3 W1TN3SS!"
"I am doing nothing of the sort. I am merely extracting the truth from this heinous clown."
"COULD YOU TWO BITCHES JUST QUIET DOWN FOR ONE GOG DAMN MINUTE SO I CAN THINK? AGH, I KNEW THIS WAS A BAD IDEA!"

It has been ten years since the events of Sburb, and for the first time since then, we have a murder on our hands. We awoke last night to find one of the children missing; when he was discovered... Well, it was not an agreeable sight to look upon. All eyes immediately turned to Vriska; firstly, she is Vriska and it is a natural thing for everyone to blame her when things go wrong. Secondly, a member of the Fluorite Octet was found at the crime scene. Normally Terezi would just take this excuse to hang her, but the look on John's face obliged me to defend the spider queen. Against my better judgement, I admit, but I stand here now, defending her nonetheless.

Currently on the witness stand is Gamzee Makara. He himself had been a killer as a child, but a mixture between Karkat's attentiveness and a heavy dose of sopor slime had been believed to have ended that.

I know he did it. I just have to prove it.

"ALRIGHT, LALONDE. YOU BETTER HAVE A GOG DAMN GOOD REASON FOR THIS LINE OF QUESTIONING OR ELSE I'M HOLDING YOU IN CONTEMPT OF COURT. YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT UNDER ALTERNIAN LAW THE PUNISHMENT FOR BEING IN CONTEMPT OF COURT IS DEATH BY FIRING SQUAD.

...Of course it is. I should have known that agreeing to face Terezi under Alternian rules was a terrible idea.

"I understand, Your Honor. Now, Mister Makara... You say that you were the first to discover our victim's body. Can you describe what led you to him?"

"MoThErFuCkInG mIrAcLeS. iT's AlL i NeEd My InVeRtEsIsTeR.

"This again. Wonderful. Perhaps I should ask a different question... Ms. Pyrope. Would you please describe the cause of death for the jury?

"GL4DLY. TH3 BOY W4S B34T3N ON TH3 H34D NUM3ROUS T1M3S. TH3 MURD3R W34PON 1S UNKNOWN, 4S 1T COULD TRULY B3 4NYTH1NG W1TH TH3 FLUOR1T3 OCT3T 1N PL4Y.

"8ut I didn't do it!!!!!!!!

"QU13T YOU!" In response to Vriska's interruption Terezi quickly threw a knife in her general direction. Vriska's shoulder is now bleeding profusely.

"Is she allowed to do that?"

"YES. YES SHE IS. GET A MOVE ON, LALONDE."

"Yes. Ms. Pyrope, I currently have a list of every possibility when rolling the fluorite octet, written eleven years ago by Miss Serket herself. Would you pleasure us with a reading?"

"OF COURS3 NOT! TH4T L1ST 1S M4SS1VE!

"So what you are saying is that you do not know what the Octet is capable of. Or, perhaps more importantly, what it isn't."

"...WH4T'S YOUR PO1NT?

"I spent all last evening reading this list, Miss Pyrope. The Octet will never summon a bludgeoning item small enough to cause the wounds on our victim."

"WH4T".

"WHAT."

"HaHa MoThErFuCkInG wHaT?"

"It would appear Mr. Makara was not aware of this fact either. Good, this makes it easy. I assert that Gamzee murdered the child with his clubs, a small bludgeoning weapon that I can assure you fits perfectly with the wounds, and stole an Octet dice in order to frame Miss Serket.

"...real motherfucking impressive, rose.

"Excuse me, Mr. Makara? I did not quite catch that.

"I SAID THAT WAS REAL MOTHERFUCKING IMPRESSIVE MOTHERFUCKER!!!

"OH GOG IT'S HAPPENING AGAIN! SOMEONE, QUICK, RESTRAIN HIM! SOPOR SHOTS, WHERE ARE HIS SOPOR SHOTS?

It took the combined might of John, Dave, and Kanaya, but we finally held him down. He will hang this time. He is too much of a liability to keep around now.

Afterwards I met with Terezi. She was sitting at a bench outside court. She appeared to have been crying a little.

"A penny for your thoughts, prosecutor?"

"1 LOST. 1 N3V3R LOS3.

"It had to happen eventually, Terezi. Besides, that is one confrontation I could not afford to lose. I do not think I could face John if Vriska were to hang.

"YOU COMPL3T3LY OUTSTR1PP3D M3 1N TH3R3. ST4YING UP 4LL N1GHT TO F1ND 3V1D3NC3 FOR VR1SK4'S 1NNOC3NC3... TH4T W4S S3R1OUS D3D1C4T1ON. 1 L1K3 TH4T."

"Excuse me?"

"TH3 W4Y YOU SPOK3... 1T W4S 1NCR3D1BLE. YOU W3R3 SO D3T3RM1N3D. SO BOLD! NOW TH4T 1 LOOK B4CK 1 R34L1Z3 1 W4S NOT 3NT1R3LY 1NV3ST3D 1N TH4T C4S3. 1 W4S TOO BUSY LOOK1NG 4T YOU.

"Terezi, I...

You should have seen Karkat's face.

It's a super cool idea, and the dialogue is funny. I love the ending too, although it's a bit abrupt. Then again all troll/human romance is defined by Karkles's level of dismay towards it. My only real critique is that you rely too much on not using contractions in Rose's dialogue, and it seems a little off. I don't remember Rose avoiding contractions much in her canon pesterlogs.

Any chance of getting a sequel?

[Glee Unit]

Silly little fairytale idea. The Four Humans Gruff

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Once upon a time there were four humans named John and Jade and Rose and Dave who were sent by their guardians to go pick fresh herbs in the forest. They all worked very hard, and when the sun began to set, they came together to go back home to the village where they lived.

Now, on the way back to their village was a long bridge that was so very narrow and fragile that only one human could cross it a time. And living under this bridge was a big scary troll named Karkat! Karkat had big sharp teeth and scary gray skin and tiny little horns, and there was no food he liked better than humans. Whenever humans crossed the bridge when it was dark out (because trolls can't stand the sunlight!) he would crawl out from underneath and eat them up. But the humans had no idea that the scary troll lived underneath the bridge.

The first to cross the bridge was the Dave human, and he walked across it very casually. When he reached the middle of the bridge, the hungry troll climbed up onto the bridge to meet him. The troll said, "HEY, FUCKASS, DON'T BOTHER PRAYING TO WHATEVER STUPID FUCKING HUMAN GODS YOU WORSHIP, BECAUSE I AM YOUR TRUE GOD AND I'M ABOUT TO EAT YOU RIGHT HERE."

The Dave human was very cool and told Karkat, "nah man you dont wanna do that cause im totally malnutritioned and bony and all that shit but my main man john is coming over next and he basically lives on cakes so you should probably eat him instead"

The hungry troll liked the sound of this, so he let the Dave human go, and crawled back underneath the bridge again! Next came the John human, walking very jauntily, and again the troll clambered onto the bridge to face him. "OKAY, WHAT WE'RE GOING TO DO HERE IS I'M GOING TO FUCKING EAT YOU AND YOU'RE NOT GOING TO TRY TO DISSUADE ME WITH ANY FUCKING TALK OF FATTER HUMANS OR ANYTHING, GOT THAT?" said the troll, and he bared his sharp pointy teeth.

The troll was very scary, but the John human didn't know how to be afraid of anything! "oh man ive never met a troll before!" he said and did a kind of dance around the bridge to look at Karkat from more angles. "do you really eat humans? hahaha man that is so gross! or i guess i dunno its probably not gross for you but it sure sounds pretty silly to me! youre really committed to this whole troll thing though so hey respect to you dude!"

The troll growled angrily and thought maybe it should let the John human cross the bridge. "ERGH, JUST, SHUT UP ALREADY," it said, and made a scowly face. "YOU ARE SO GODDAMN STUPID I BET I WOULD GET DUMBER JUST BY EATING YOU. LOOK, THE NEXT ONE OF YOU ASS UGLY HUMANS, IS IT NICE AND FAT?"

The John human looked back across the bridge to see which one of his friends was coming next. "you mean rose? hehe well since you ask i guess she could stand to lose a few pounds! her mom is pretty well off i guess and feeds her well but shes not huge or anything! you wont tell her i said that or anything right?"

Instead of answering, the troll crawled back under the bridge, and the John human shrugged and went his merry way. The next human to come along was the one named Rose, and when it reached the center of the bridge, Karkat climbed up to meet her. "OKAY, LET'S NOT DO THE GODDAMN TALKY THING THIS TIME," he said, and flexed his arm muscles. "YOU, FOOD. ME, TROLL. IS THIS GOING TO HAVE TO BE A FEDERAL FUCKING ISSUE?"

The Rose human too was not afraid, but looked at the troll and said, "Fascinating.

"Do you know, I have never met a troll before? I mean, I've certainly heard of your species, bizarre as it seems from an evolutionary perspective, but I always assumed my mother was simply making you up in an attempt to frighten me. She is a devious one to be sure and I did not hesitate to attribute such falsehoods to her, which I suppose must say something about me as a daughter. And yet here you are standing on this bridge expressing a heated desire to consume me for my debatable nutritional value.

"Those horns on your head are remarkably small, by the way. I had thought that most species with horns evolved those for the purposes of sexual selection, but surely that typically favors those animals with the largest horns, not the smallest? Of course, that leads to the inevitable hypothesis that you are an unfit member of your species and unlikely to survive to reproduce your genes in the next generation. I mean no offense, of course, I am merely making an observation based on your nublike phenotype. Further support of my hypothesis derives from the fact that you apparently live alone under a bridge rather than enjoying the companionship of your own kind.

"And now it seems that you are picking me up and walking across the bridge with me as your freight. Is this a mating ritual? If so, I must most respectfully decline, for a relationship with a member of another species has never especially appealed to me, even despite the shock it would inevitably bring to my mother. And yet my dubiously heartfelt entreaty brings no relief from your unflinching stride. Perhaps you are intending to carry through with your original plan to employ me as your supper, although I should give you fair warning that I hardly intend to play into the role of 'damsel in distress' should that indeed be your intent.

"I see. You have deposited me in the very spot whither I was originally bound before our chance encounter and are now stalking moodily back to your dwelling spot. I do apologize if my words have in any way failed to endear me to you or convinced you that I would not make an appealing meal. Please do not take my words as a slight against your species; I do not find your gray skin at all displeasing and might indeed welcome one of your kind into my circle of friends, although such a troll should of necessity be endowed with a better sense of fashionable attire than I fear you possess. Well, I must to my mother's - goodbye!"

Meanwhile the troll, who was by now very hungry indeed, had returned to the center of the bridge. At last the Jade human came up to him, and she was very saccharine. Karkat climbed up in front of her and spat out a few short sentences. "YOU ARE A HUMAN AND I WILL EAT YOU NOW. DO NOT SAY ONE FUCKING WORD."

"omigosh those are the cutest horns i have ever seen!!!" said the Jade human and ran forward to play with them, forgetting her herbs entirely. "and your teeth! and oh gosh if you are hungry dont worry about that i can just irradiate you a steak or something :PP but you have to come home to meet my grandfather, he loves strange creatures and you are so cute and strange but mostly cute i guess! <3"

The Jade human leaned forward and kissed the troll on the nose, and then took him back to her home in the village where she fed him everything he ever asked for. And the humans were all very happy, and if they're not yet dead, then I'll bet they're happy still. Karkat will tell you that he's angry, but if you ask him at the right time, when Jade has just fed him something and he's lying with his head in her lap and none of the other trolls from the forest have bothered him for a few days, then maybe, just maybe, you might catch a hint of a smile on his face too.

Okay, now that was pretty cute, there.

[draconicAlgorithm]

Alright, here it is, kiddos. Sorry for the wait.

RESET - 5

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haha no

A/N

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Well, now you all know what happened to Feferi.

16/16 CHARACTERS ACCOUNTED FOR

1/? CHARACTERS RE-KILLED

This one took me ages to finish because I kept getting distracted by stuff like Dragon Age and Minecraft and Fooly Cooly, but I sat down tonight with the intent to finish it and banged out pretty much the whole "Past Eridan" section in one sitting.

I hope you're not too mad at me for killing Feferi again.

Actually I don't really care.

ARE YOU NEXT????

Comment dump will come later, because I have to drive back to school in the morning so I can get to work. Enjoy!

M'kay, so, this is a story that I decided to randomly go back and read through today, because it sounded interesting. Turns out that it was also one of those stories that, after finishing, I just stare in shock at it for a moment before finally saying, "Why have I not been reading this before now?!"

Because oh man this was good. The kids becoming trolls is a fun idea I don't see implemented very often, and you've done a good job with it. I really look forward to seeing more. (Also, Dave and Karkat being moirails? Priceless.)

But Feferi augh. Dx Poor Eridan.

[SeptimusMagistos]

Silly little fairytale idea. The Four Humans Gruff

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Once upon a time there were four humans named John and Jade and Rose and Dave who were sent by their guardians to go pick fresh herbs in the forest. They all worked very hard, and when the sun began to set, they came together to go back home to the village where they lived.

Now, on the way back to their village was a long bridge that was so very narrow and fragile that only one human could cross it a time. And living under this bridge was a big scary troll named Karkat! Karkat had big sharp teeth and scary gray skin and tiny little horns, and there was no food he liked better than humans. Whenever humans crossed the bridge when it was dark out (because trolls can't stand the sunlight!) he would crawl out from underneath and eat them up. But the humans had no idea that the scary troll lived underneath the bridge.

The first to cross the bridge was the Dave human, and he walked across it very casually. When he reached the middle of the bridge, the hungry troll climbed up onto the bridge to meet him. The troll said, "HEY, FUCKASS, DON'T BOTHER PRAYING TO WHATEVER STUPID FUCKING HUMAN GODS YOU WORSHIP, BECAUSE I AM YOUR TRUE GOD AND I'M ABOUT TO EAT YOU RIGHT HERE."

The Dave human was very cool and told Karkat, "nah man you dont wanna do that cause im totally malnutritioned and bony and all that shit but my main man john is coming over next and he basically lives on cakes so you should probably eat him instead"

The hungry troll liked the sound of this, so he let the Dave human go, and crawled back underneath the bridge again! Next came the John human, walking very jauntily, and again the troll clambered onto the bridge to face him. "OKAY, WHAT WE'RE GOING TO DO HERE IS I'M GOING TO FUCKING EAT YOU AND YOU'RE NOT GOING TO TRY TO DISSUADE ME WITH ANY FUCKING TALK OF FATTER HUMANS OR ANYTHING, GOT THAT?" said the troll, and he bared his sharp pointy teeth.

The troll was very scary, but the John human didn't know how to be afraid of anything! "oh man ive never met a troll before!" he said and did a kind of dance around the bridge to look at Karkat from more angles. "do you really eat humans? hahaha man that is so gross! or i guess i dunno its probably not gross for you but it sure sounds pretty silly to me! youre really committed to this whole troll thing though so hey respect to you dude!"

The troll growled angrily and thought maybe it should let the John human cross the bridge. "ERGH, JUST, SHUT UP ALREADY," it said, and made a scowly face. "YOU ARE SO GODDAMN STUPID I BET I WOULD GET DUMBER JUST BY EATING YOU. LOOK, THE NEXT ONE OF YOU ASS UGLY HUMANS, IS IT NICE AND FAT?"

The John human looked back across the bridge to see which one of his friends was coming next. "you mean rose? hehe well since you ask i guess she could stand to lose a few pounds! her mom is pretty well off i guess and feeds her well but shes not huge or anything! you wont tell her i said that or anything right?"

Instead of answering, the troll crawled back under the bridge, and the John human shrugged and went his merry way. The next human to come along was the one named Rose, and when it reached the center of the bridge, Karkat climbed up to meet her. "OKAY, LET'S NOT DO THE GODDAMN TALKY THING THIS TIME," he said, and flexed his arm muscles. "YOU, FOOD. ME, TROLL. IS THIS GOING TO HAVE TO BE A FEDERAL FUCKING ISSUE?"

The Rose human too was not afraid, but looked at the troll and said, "Fascinating.

"Do you know, I have never met a troll before? I mean, I've certainly heard of your species, bizarre as it seems from an evolutionary perspective, but I always assumed my mother was simply making you up in an attempt to frighten me. She is a devious one to be sure and I did not hesitate to attribute such falsehoods to her, which I suppose must say something about me as a daughter. And yet here you are standing on this bridge expressing a heated desire to consume me for my debatable nutritional value.

"Those horns on your head are remarkably small, by the way. I had thought that most species with horns evolved those for the purposes of sexual selection, but surely that typically favors those animals with the largest horns, not the smallest? Of course, that leads to the inevitable hypothesis that you are an unfit member of your species and unlikely to survive to reproduce your genes in the next generation. I mean no offense, of course, I am merely making an observation based on your nublike phenotype. Further support of my hypothesis derives from the fact that you apparently live alone under a bridge rather than enjoying the companionship of your own kind.

"And now it seems that you are picking me up and walking across the bridge with me as your freight. Is this a mating ritual? If so, I must most respectfully decline, for a relationship with a member of another species has never especially appealed to me, even despite the shock it would inevitably bring to my mother. And yet my dubiously heartfelt entreaty brings no relief from your unflinching stride. Perhaps you are intending to carry through with your original plan to employ me as your supper, although I should give you fair warning that I hardly intend to play into the role of 'damsel in distress' should that indeed be your intent.

"I see. You have deposited me in the very spot whither I was originally bound before our chance encounter and are now stalking moodily back to your dwelling spot. I do apologize if my words have in any way failed to endear me to you or convinced you that I would not make an appealing meal. Please do not take my words as a slight against your species; I do not find your gray skin at all displeasing and might indeed welcome one of your kind into my circle of friends, although such a troll should of necessity be endowed with a better sense of fashionable attire than I fear you possess. Well, I must to my mother's - goodbye!"

Meanwhile the troll, who was by now very hungry indeed, had returned to the center of the bridge. At last the Jade human came up to him, and she was very saccharine. Karkat climbed up in front of her and spat out a few short sentences. "YOU ARE A HUMAN AND I WILL EAT YOU NOW. DO NOT SAY ONE FUCKING WORD."

"omigosh those are the cutest horns i have ever seen!!!" said the Jade human and ran forward to play with them, forgetting her herbs entirely. "and your teeth! and oh gosh if you are hungry dont worry about that i can just irradiate you a steak or something :PP but you have to come home to meet my grandfather, he loves strange creatures and you are so cute and strange but mostly cute i guess! <3"

The Jade human leaned forward and kissed the troll on the nose, and then took him back to her home in the village where she fed him everything he ever asked for. And the humans were all very happy, and if they're not yet dead, then I'll bet they're happy still. Karkat will tell you that he's angry, but if you ask him at the right time, when Jade has just fed him something and he's lying with his head in her lap and none of the other trolls from the forest have bothered him for a few days, then maybe, just maybe, you might catch a hint of a smile on his face too.

Rose could stand to lose a few pounds. That made me laugh so hard I coughed.

[Domoz]

Alright, here it is, kiddos. Sorry for the wait.

RESET - 5

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.o.

A/N

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Well, now you all know what happened to Feferi.

16/16 CHARACTERS ACCOUNTED FOR

1/? CHARACTERS RE-KILLED

This one took me ages to finish because I kept getting distracted by stuff like Dragon Age and Minecraft and Fooly Cooly, but I sat down tonight with the intent to finish it and banged out pretty much the whole "Past Eridan" section in one sitting.

I hope you're not too mad at me for killing Feferi again.

Actually I don't really care.

ARE YOU NEXT????

Comment dump will come later, because I have to drive back to school in the morning so I can get to work. Enjoy!

Oh my goodness I was waiting for this
Feferi noooo ;;

...
Okay I am trying to write more of The Pirate and the Empress but I seem to have hit a bump in the road so more waiting sorry e.e
In the mean time I wrote something that is probably terrible and OOC

Talk

[lantadyme]

Here's a lame Guardianswap thing with Bro and red!Rose. Because someone somewhere said that she was into cars, and I'm sick so I'll write silly nonsense if I want.

Gearmonkey

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"Why didn't you learn to drive?" she asks him, and Bro doesn't wince, but he kind of wants to.

She's sprawled out on the threadbare carpet, the floor only clean because she vacuums it once a week. He would forget if she didn't and he's still not sure why she does it, but he's not complaining. She lays there on her stomach, feet up in the air and twitching as she holds the book out in front of herself and licks her lips in appreciation. It's a beat-up old library book on 70's muscle cars open to a two-page spread of a cerulean blue '69 Mustang spinning burnouts and tire smoke everywhere. Bro would have no idea what it was besides "car" if Rose hadn't shown him that damn picture a thousand times by now, her eyebrows always arched just so, loving the hell out of that thing.

"Was kinda busy taking care of your ass when I was sixteen," he murmurs casually, eyes jumping back to computer screen. Not that she can see his eyes with the shades on, but she's a perception ninja as much as he's an ironic one and she catches things no one else does.

"You could still learn," she says, turning the page. '72 Dodge Challenger with a half-naked lady draped across the hood, and that Bro can definitely appreciate. "At this rate I'll learn before you do."

"So then you can drive me to gigs. Ironic as shit, man."

Rose's mouth quirks up. She rolls over, the book slipping from her fingertips as she watches him over the edge of her shades with those gorgeous violet eyes. And that alone tells him that she knows. The girl reads him like sheet music and even after ten years, he still doesn't know how she does it.

Because she's into other things that he knows jack shit about, but this is different because this is cars. There's something damn liberating about cars. Old-school American hit-the-road-and-just-drive liberating that Bro has never experienced before because his entire life has been wrapped up in foster homes and group homes and living alone on the street at times. He was sixteen and just learning to buck off that old life, and even if he'd known someone with enough trust in him to teach him to drive, his chance to learn that world slipped out of his fingers when his record shop exploded and this little pistol was left in the wreckage.

Fucking cars, man.

"Wade showed me how to change the oil on a Civic yesterday," Rose says, that smirk still on her face and her eyes still looking straight into his fucking soul.

Wade. The guy who owns the autoshop three blocks down that Rose has been hanging at lately. The guy Bro has been stalking like a restraining order waiting to happen, ready to shove his sword so far up the douchebag's ass he'll be spitting steel if he even looks at his little girl wrong. Fucker.

"Yeah?" he asks, slouching back in his chair and tossing a bored look Rose's way. And it's ironic as hell because he's pretty much wound like a neurotic clock right now.

She laughs quietly, that knowing laugh that crawls under his skin every time, and she stands and presses a kiss to his cheek. "You don't mind if I spend time there, do you?" she whispers, hands resting expectantly against the skin of his arm. And it's awkward because that expectation isn't for the words, but for what he'll reveal.

Yeah, he minds. He minds a hell of a lot because this is his kid and he's not losing her to some asshole with an autoshop just because he never learned to drive. Bro raises an eyebrow at her, knowing he can't win this round, and he sets a hand on her tiny, dainty one.

"I don't really give a shit, long as you remember I'm the coolest guy in Texas," he says, pausing for emphasis before adding, "Not fucking Wade."

"Only Texas?" Rose asks, smiling and a little proud to see him open up that tiny bit. "I'm rather sure you're the coolest guy in the entire world."

He flashes her his laziest grin and ruffles her hair. "Damn straight. Now lemme see that picture. That girl is hot."

"She is," Rose says, fishing the book off the floor and setting it in his lap, laughing to herself as he licks his lips in perfect mimicry of what she'd been doing over the Mustang one page back. She leans into his shoulder, her head resting against his, and Bro pages through the book slowly, listening as she rattles off engine specs for nearly every single car.

[nikeathena]

Hey guys, nother slice-of-life fic featuring the Striders! Perhaps someday I will post something different.

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It’s not hot anymore, but cold. Cold, cold, cold, c---. He breaks off the train of thought that was running rabidly at circles and nipping at its own heels in the fashion that one’s mind has while on the precipice, and can’t fight an involuntary shudder, and glares when he attracts the attention of the man sitting next to him. One of those “this isn’t the hypothermia you’re looking for, move along” glares. Even though he knows it’s pointless. Fruitless, even, because then his breath plumes out at the exact moment his skin rises in goosebumps, and he feels his nipples harden against the too-thin cotton of his shirt for this time of year. And Bro watches this all impassively before darting forward and twisting the nubs of his nipples, hard, just like Dave knew he was going to do, and went for a reflexive hunch, only to find it was too childish and too late.

So he rubs his smarting chest as Bro rises from the couch, phlegmily laughing his ass off as he goes in search of mad snacks and the screen on the widescreen TV before him flickers on pause. Dave honestly does not know how it can be this fucking cold in Dallas, Texas, and is even more sure of the fact that he’s going to die from it, because according to the thermometer his Bro has set up in honor of this ironic occasion that it has now reached freezing point Fahrenheit in their apartment somehow. No doubt aided by the fact that Dave hears an air conditioner hissing somewhere in the background. Perfect. Fucking great. Let it never be said that Dave Strider doesn’t love irony. He just thinks that irony is a cruel bitch of a mistress, and he’s going to die laughing at the fact that he’s in Dallas, Texas, America, dying of the cold.

The world becomes just a little grayer, however, when Bro settles back in his sufficiently cooled seat with a plate of pizza rolls, and Dave rocks towards him just a little with the shift in mass.

“You want a blanket yet, m’man?” Asks Bro, popping one of the snacks into his mouth and chomping it firmly, apparently immune to the fact that’s he’d had them in the microwave for far too long and was applying first degree burns to his tongue. Bro has been sitting on the couch in his jeans and a t-shirt since he’d woken up that morning, breathed heavily into the hair and laughed upon finding his breath fogging up the windows. And then rushed to put his turntables under cover (“These things are on fire, but not if they’re iced over.” He’d said, hopping from place to place in his boxers) before getting dressed.

“Hey, man, if I’m in dire need of cotton, I’ll go find my Fruit of the Looms.” Dave responds cheekily, and also rather phlegmily because his nose has started to run because of the cold, and his teeth start to chatter in a most betraying way. Bro gives him one of those long, unfathomable looks, directs his attention back to the screen, unpauses the game and offers the oversized, piled plate of snacks to his younger sibling. As he makes the sprite on the screen jump with mad skillz, Dave grudgingly accepts one, but hasn’t had it in his mouth for more than a few seconds before he finds himself the subject of a microsleep.

He can’t remember falling asleep when he wakes, abruptly, with the suddenness and thoroughness of a wild animal. At first, he doesn’t know exactly why, at first, but he’s gripped with an equally sudden terror when he realizes he can’t move his arms or legs. This revelation only prompts him to thrash even harder before realizing the consistency of what’s pinning him down.

Cotton. He lifts his head and looks down, and sees more blankets than he knows their apartment to posses firmly entwining his body. He’s not cold, and it’s strange that his limbs have as much circulation as they do, he thinks. Cal is sitting on his chest, with a vacant sort of cheer, propping up Dave’s iPhone quite realistically with his hands. His brother’s chumhandle flashes up on the screen while Dave blearily considers it.

nP: hey, bro.
nP: just sit tight.
nP: Lil Cal will keep ya warm, ya dig?
nP: i just gotta fix this one last shitty element.
nP: see you topside.

Dave allows his head to fall back since he can’t respond, and nestles further into the couch pillow placed quite comfortably under his head. That was right. Even while his brother was DJ and rapper of the world, he was usually forced to take odd jobs to tide them over between sweet gigs. Handyman was one of many, and often had been the night when Bro had come in, smelling of grease and water glue.

At the end of the hall, Bro searches a tool kit for the correct sized crescent wrench. He had tried to keep the mood as light as possible while they were shivering their asses off on the couch, and had even made it a part of their eternal one-upmanship, and it had seemed to distract Dave for a while. ‘Just fix the fucking element. Just fix the fucking element’ he had prayed silently of his landlord as Dave eventually succumbed to beginning level hypothermia and had fallen quickly asleep against Bro’s chest.

Bro had spent enough times when he was Dave’s age numb-lipped and shivering with cold (and hadn’t even cared, for once, about that fucking woman he was supposed to call mother screaming like a banshee at him and why she should have had that fucking abortion), quite certain he was going to die, and had clutched Cal tighter. And when he thought back on it, he wasn’t even quite sure how he did manage to survive all that that bat put him through.

And so he had been mortified when he’d seen that desperation in Dave’s eyes, tucked up in the couch as he was, masked by his teenaged brand of self-assurance. And so, softly, beratingly, he reminds himself of an infant’s breath on his neck, and the time he swore they would never have to live like that again.

Distantly, Dave hears the heater kick back on.

[draconicAlgorithm]

Here's a lame Guardianswap thing with Bro and red!Rose. Because someone somewhere said that she was into cars, and I'm sick so I'll write silly nonsense if I want.

Gearmonkey

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haha no

Well, I hope you feel better soon, but if this is what you write when you're sick, I think I kind of like it when you're sick.

Too adorable.

EDIT: Ninja'd by more Strider adorable-ness. Also, I didn't realize that Texas got that cold. Man.

[ProspitDreamer]

Well it's not like I have any free time or anything, but this needed to get written before any more updates came.

Voices

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This is beautiful and sweet and I love it!

But, um... I think you mean "LOS3" and not "LOOS3" near the end. :/

Other than that yes this is awesome.

Thanks! I fixed that little error...my natural spell check gets easily messed up by typing quirks and the computer's spell check, well, is useless for them :P
Anyways glad you liked it!

@RogerMexico- *mouth drops open in shock* Oh...dear... Welp, that explains a lot. Also, that was very well written and I think doing that scene from Eridan's point of view was definitely the best choice. So now the burning question is of course...where do we go from here? Will the next chapter tell us?

[PingZing]

This one's a monster, guys. Twice as long as the previous chapter. Hope you're ready for


Hot Blooded: Chapter 9

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The second time she meets Tarfus Depinza, he returns the favor.

Auva sat against an outer bulkhead and peered amusedly at Tarfus as he clutched the railing of the rolling deck. She never would’ve expected that the brusque, capable warrior she’d met two sweeps ago to be so prone to seasickness. Admittedly, she was surprised to find that she’d adapted to the up-and-down motion of the ship so easily in comparison.

As Tarfus leaned back and wiped the sweat off his brow, Auva reflected on how he’d grown since she last she’d seen him. It had been shortly after the end of the six-week threshecutioner training program. He’d been tall, wiry, and frighteningly thin when he’d graduated. Now, he was still lean, but in the dangerous whipcord fashion of a coiled slitherbeast waiting to strike. He still wore long sleeves, but Auva suspected his arms had filled out as well. His insistence on sleeves no matter the weather or occasion would’ve been endearing if she didn’t know the reason. He had revealed his blood color to her scarcely two perigrees ago. At first she hadn’t believed it, but the sincerity in his letter and her own memories made for a solid case. That day she’d met him, she’d caught a glimpse of his blood through the hole in his sleeve. She had thought the color odd, but shrugged it off as a trick of the light from the rising sun. His insignia said he was a maroon, and who was she to argue?

But now that she knew the truth, her respect for the irritable threshecutioner had only grown. He’d hidden his blood for two sweeps in the threshecutioners, and when he hadn’t been able to hide, he’d made allies of those who discovered his secret. That, or enemies too terrified of him to speak the truth. Auva also had a sneaking suspicion that a certain retired greenblood threshecutioner had something to do with it, but Auva’d held her tongue on the matter. Not until she had more evidence, and even then where was the harm?

Her train of thought was interrupted by a weary thump as Tarfus sat against the wall beside her and leaned heavily against her shoulder. Auva raised her eyebrows, mildly surprised; she hadn’t taken him for the kind to be so comfortable with physical contact. On the other hand, it might just be his exhaustion talking. They’d been afloat for two nights now, and his seasickness had only begun to abate this evening.

“I’m surprised at you, Tarfus,” she said.

“Uh?”

“Despite our correspondence over the course of the previous two sweeps, you’ve somehow failed to mention that you’ve got the sea legs of a trunkbeast. Imagine, the threshecutioners’ golden boy, the man who bested three others his first night of training, after spending most of it being thrown about by the instructor. I find it surprising.”

Tarfus considered this carefully for a moment before delivering his reply. “Errrgh.”

Auva giggled.

Tarfus groaned again and stirred slightly. “I’ll have you know that boats,” he spat the word, “Do not feature in standard thresh-training. Besides, do you think if I knew, I’d dare write it in a letter, Madris? What if my enemies found it? Imagine the damage to my reputation if they discovered the great Tarfus Depinza hurled like wiggler at the slightest rocking sensation.”

“Yes, I can see how that might be damaging. Catastrophic even. It’s a good thing there’s nobody here to see you. Except me. And the crew. And the members of your squad. And Miss Stratet.”

Tarfus groaned again.

A series of thunks in front her caused Auva to look up. She came face to shin with a pair of black-clad legs. She further looked up and found Kulath Stratet looking down at her with a twinkle in her eye.

“I see you’ve been teaching Depinza the joys of ship life, negotiaterror. How’s he adapting?”

“Greetings, Miss Stratet. Poorly, I fear. It appears to have driven him beyond the brink of sanity; he seems to have mistaken himself for a maternal flap-beast, and believes the ocean to be his younglings. That’s the only plausible explanation for his repeated vomiting I’ve yet come up with,” Auva said with a completely straight face.

“Really. I always thought Depinza was a bit of a birdbrain,” Stratet responded.

Tarfus stirred, and managed a groan. “Fuck you both.”

“Is that any way to talk to your commander, boy?” Stratet demanded.

“It is when I’m too sick to move and we’re not actually doing anything…sir,” Tarfus grumbled.

Stratet actually chuckled, “I’ll grant you that, this once. At least have the decency to be civil to your moirail!” At Tarfus and Auva’s stricken looks, Stratet burst out laughing. “Oh, sweet Mother Grub, don’t tell me you’re not! Oh dear, I’d forgotten what it was like to be young. I’ll leave you to your romantic entanglements, threshecutioner. The next time I see you, I expect you to be a hundred percent.” She dropped a package of something in Tarfus’ lap. “Here, you ought to be able to keep this down. Eat it or you’ll eat my boot heel.”

“Yes sir.”

Tarfus listened to Stratet clonk away, still chuckling to herself. He turned to Auva. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that old hag was nothing more than a busybody spinster or something. Playing matchmaker with her soldiers, goddamn…and where does she get off calling us moirails? What a brazen fucking accusation! We’re friends and nothing moooooooogh…”

A sudden wave of dizziness swept over Tarfus and he slumped back onto Auva’s shoulder. She rolled her eyes. “Perhaps you should restrain your indignity for when you’re feeling better. There is no need to get so red in the face.”

Panic overtook Tarfus’ features for a moment. “Shit, can you tell?”

Auva sighed. “Relax, Tarfus. It’s completely indistinguishable from maroon in this light.”

“Oh.” Tarfus relaxed.

They remained silent for a time, the swaying of the ship and Tarfus’ feverish body heat lulling Auva into a doze. She viewed the ship through half-lidded eyes, watching the crew adjust the sails and stomp back and forth, hauling on ropes and climbing through rigging, and other things utterly incomprehensible to Auva.

“It’s strange, don’t you think?” She murmured eventually.

“Whassat?”

“An entire detachment of threshecutioners to accompany a single newly-graduated negotiaterror. I find it hard to imagine that I warrant this sort of protection. Miss Stratet’s presence is especially confounding. It seems to indicate a mission of some importance. But if that were the case, why wasn’t a steamship commissioned rather than this slower, sail-driven ship?”

“Madris, we exchanged letters for two sweeps after I left basic. Am I right?” Tarfus volunteered, eyes still closed.

“Yes, I am aware. Why?”

Tarfus opened his eyes. “I’m sure I mentioned at some point what a bad idea it was for soldiers to question orders. Especially redbloods. Especially me.”

“Your creative lack of imagination does you credit, Tarfus. But surely you’ve been successful in gleaning more information than your orders have offered. If not, I find it unlikely that Miss Stratet would have placed so much trust in you.”

Tarfus smirked. “Okay, so maybe I’ve got a few ideas that weren’t in the briefing, maybe I heard some gossip on the side.”

Auva waited for a moment. “Well? Do you have any intention of elaborating?”

“Only if you get me water,” Tarfus said, rasping exaggeratedly.

Auva rolled her eyes and stood up, taking Tarfus’ empty canteen. “And you believe me to be the melodramatic one…” Tarfus began coughing as she walked away, and escalated to exaggerated sputtering and wheezing noises as she reached the water barrel and plunged the canteen into it. “Here,” she said, throwing the filled canteen back at him.

Tarfus caught it and poured some water around the cracker crumbs already in his mouth. The package Stratet had given him lay open on his lap, bits of cracker peeking out of the waxed-paper wrapping. After chewing for a moment, he took another swig of water. Then another. He finally swallowed with some difficulty. “I’m pretty sure this is the least appetizing thing I’ve ever eaten. Sawdust is easier to swallow.” He grimaced and took another bite. “If I keep it down, it’s only because it’s glued my chitinous windhole shut, urgh.”

“I believe you were going to share your gossip with me?” Auva prompted, sitting back down.

“Right,” he said, chewing, “Now don’t go spreading this around—as if you would, what the fuck am I saying?—but I’m pretty sure this is going to be Stratet’s last mission before she actually retires. Not the ‘officially retired but still trains and commands the threshecutioners fakey-fake retired bullshit’, but actually hangs up her sickle and goes political.”

“So what is the purpose of this mission? The last report indicated that the battle at our destination was nearly over. I cannot imagine my services will be much in demand by the time we arrive, nor will your own.”

Tarfus shrugged. “No clue there. I’m betting that maybe Stratet suspects the separatists are holding out some sort of reserve and pulled some strings to get herself sent out here. Maybe she thinks it’ll be a fitting last mission or something equally stupid and romantic.”

Auva hmmed and was silent for a moment, thinking. “Who will take up the mantle of command for the Twelfth Legion when she retires?”

“I’ve got the sneaking suspicion it’s going to be me,” he said with a grimace.

“I don’t think I understand the cause for your distress. Isn’t this what you wanted?”

Tarfus’ expression relaxed into a frown. “Yeah. On the other hand I’m just now realizing what a pain in the ass all the baby royals are going to be. Not only will I have to actively deal with them, I’ll actually have to go in for officer’s training, and there’s no way there won’t be plenty of pampered purple pricks to deal with.”

Auva chuckled. “Are you predicting that the aristocracy is going to be a royal pain, Tarfus?”

He groaned. “If I weren’t already sick, that would’ve done it. Fuck you for that joke, Madris. Fuck you for me hearing that just now.”

“I find myself inclined to think you need sleep, Tarfus. You’ve been awake for nearly an entire planetary rotation, and you’re beginning to act rather crabby.” Tarfus wisely chose to cram another hunk of cracker into his mouth rather than reply, but his glare said enough. Auva snickered and rose from her perch on the stairs. “The sun will be up in around an hour anyway, and while I happen to enjoy its illumination, I know that you do not. Shall I assist you to your bunk?”

Tarfus levered himself up, using the wall as support. “What are you, crazy? The reason I’m up here in the first place is so those grubfuckers asleep below wouldn’t know how I was getting my bulge handed to me by a little rocking motion. But yeah, sleep sounds amazing. And…” He paused. “Thanks for being here. It—”

Whatever Tarfus planned to say next was drowned out by an explosion and the sound of timbers giving up the battle against a solid ball of lead traveling at an appreciable fraction of the speed of sound. The boat rocked in time with the sailors’ cries before the captain’s basso boom rose above the din.

“Pirates off the port side! Grab yer blades and prepare to bisect boarders!” He rumbled.

Auva frowned and grabbed a sailor dashing by. “Doesn’t he mean ‘repel boarders’?”

The sailor leered at her and laughed nastily. “Y’aint never fought pirates, have you? Just repellin’ ‘em ain’t enough.” The sailor shook Auva off and dashed off again.

Auva turned to Tarfus, but found only empty air and a dropped package full of crumbs. She looked toward the stairs leading belowdecks and caught a fleeting glimpse of his retreating back as he tore down the steps. She considered following, but knew she’d just get in the way. He was probably only going to wake the other threshecutioners anyway.

“You’ll be safer down below, negotiaterror,” came a voice inches behind Auva’s shoulder.

She jumped and whirled, her chainsaw already roaring before she had halfway turned.

She came face to forehead with Kulath Stratet and nearly snapped the tendons in her arms as she brought the buzzing blade to a stop inches from the shorter woman’s neck. Stratet hadn’t moved a muscle and merely grinned up at Auva. “Well. A simple ‘no’ would’ve done. Since you seem hell-bent on staying abovedecks, I’d ask if you can fight, but I think the answer to that is pretty damned obvious.”

Stratet glided forward, seemingly unconcerned about the shouting sailors running to and fro, her steps measured and calm, an oasis of serenity in a desert of chaos. Auva followed her in a daze, and soon found herself at the port-side railing of the ship, staring across the water at shadowy shape silhouetted by the grey predawn light against the horizon. It was unmistakably a ship, and was flying a stylized white jolly roger on a black field.

“You needn’t worry about Depinza, girl. I’ve seen him fight and kill on less than an hour of sleep over the course of two nights and not whisper a word of complaint until he was certain the rest of the squad was safe.”

Auva blinked, her mind rapidly reconfiguring to accommodate the sudden non-sequitur. “Do you know,” she said, “That I wasn’t worried? I was…concerned, perhaps. But after knowing him for two sweeps, I am confident in saying that even death itself would have difficulty standing in the way of his stubbornness.” She hesitated for a moment, uncertain. “Are you positive this is the best time to discuss this?”

Stratet’s grin acquired a sardonic edge. “Best time in the world, the minute before a fight. S’when I do my best thinking. In probably less than sixty seconds, all the philosophy in the world won’t matter—a blade doesn’t give a damn if you’re the sorriest red-blood who ever lived or the Empress herself, it’ll pierce you just the same. That sort of thing cuts away a lot of the nonsense, know what I mean?” Stratet leaned back, tossed her sickle up into the air and caught it again. “So while everybody else runs around like a headless cluckbeast, I ensure everything is in order and think. Got anything you’d like to say, negotiaterror?”

Auva stared blankly at Stratet for a moment before shaking her head. “Please do not take offense to this Miss Stratet, but I find that you are a very strange person.”

Stratet threw back her head and laughed as another cannonball sang through the air and crashed into the ship, with a crunch like bones breaking. The ship shuddered in time with Stratet’s laughter. “I like you, Madris. Are you ready to fight, kill, and face death?”

Auva revved her chainsaw. “I would be lying if I said I was prepared to face death, but it appears I do not have a choice.”

Stratet bared her teeth at the other ship. It was not a smile. “Good attitude to have.” She peered more closely at the approaching ship and swore quietly. “Pretty sure I recognize that flag.” She turned. “Captain! Does the name ‘Mindfang’ mean anything to you?”

The captain ceased his bellowing from the helm and turned jerkily to face Stratet. “You don’t mean Marquise Mindfang do you?”

“The very same, Captain. I would advise your men to fire all cannons immediately, whether we are in range or not. It is apparent that she certainly is, even if she hasn’t hit anything vital yet. We are under attack by Marquise Spinneret Mindfang, and she is no laughing matter.”

The captain paled and redoubled his bellowing. The ship’s guns were brought to bear and fired an answering volley toward the approaching ship, now noticeably larger. Auva winced as the cannonballs fell short, splashing harmlessly into the gulf between the ships. The sailors began reloading as a litany of shouted cursing floated up from the stairwell. Tarfus emerged, walking backward and bawling at the threshecutioners making their way up the stairs after him. Some were still tugging on boots, or wiping the sleep from their eyes.

Tarfus broke off from the assembling threshecutioners and joined Auva and Stratet. “Everybody’s accounted for, sir. What’s the situation?”

“Pirates,” Stratet replied. “Ever heard of Spinneret Mindfang?”

“What, the Pirate Marquise? Yeah, some kind of wiggler’s story. Don’t tell me we’re fighting a fairy tale.”

“Very well then, I won’t.” Stratet said.

Tarfus stared blankly for a moment then swore. “Goddammit. Okay, what’re we realistically looking at?”

“Psychic manipulation, complete ruthlessness and a sadistic streak a mile wide,” Stratet said. “Nothing short of lethal force will do.”

Tarfus snorted. “You say that last part every time, sir.”

Stratet smiled briefly. “Grant an old soldier her idiosyncrasies, Depinza. Now look alive, they’ve got the sun in our eyes and the element of surprise.”

At Stratet’s warning, four puffs of smoke rose from the deck of the other ship, followed shortly by four pops and a high-pitched buzzing sound. Four metal harpoons trailing cables crashed into the timbers of the ship and stuck fast. The cables on the ends of the harpoons pulled taut, and the assembled trolls on the ship stumbled as ship jerked under their feet.

“They’re pulling us in,” Auva noted with horror.

“Cut the cables, you slack-jawed daffodils!” Bellowed the captain. The crew leaped into action, attacking the cables with swords, hatchets and whatever was at hand.

“It’s no use cap’n! Steel cables!”

“Then cut the wood around it, you idiots!” Tarfus shouted. This led to a renewed frenzy of cutting, hacking and sawing.

It was no use. Their ship was no more than thirty yards from the pirates’ and closing fast. In moments, the two ships collided with a bone-jarring crash, knocking everybody unwise enough to be standing to their knees. Auva noted that the pirates’ ship had been protected by thick rubber bumpers at regular intervals along its edge. Clever.

And then there was no more time to think, because a snarling pirate had swung into view in front of her and was swinging a cutlass at her neck. Auva’s face registered shock for a split second before a sickle leapt in front of the pirate’s blade and sent it spinning out of his fingers with a deft twist. Tarfus stepped in front of her and shoved her backward with one hand, impaling the pirate in the same motion.

“Wake up, Madris! Fight or die!” Tarfus shouted.

Auva shook her head and steeled herself. She surveyed the area and saw threshecutioners gathered in clusters of four, back to back, fighting as a single unit and trading blows with up to twice again as many pirates. Auva spied a group of threshecutioners just as one of their member fell to a pirate’s cutlass. The gathered pirate crowd spotted their opportunity and moved in for the kill. The three remaining threshecutioners gave ground until their backs were against the railing.

Auva sprinted across the ship, and revved her chainsaw as she went. One of the assembled pirates began to turn just as she swung her chainsaw fast and low. The unlucky pirate screamed as he was cut off at the knees and yellow blood splattered across Auva’s clothing. The other pirates turned at the noise, granting the cornered threshecutioners the reprieve they needed. They hacked into the distracted pirates and finished off the remaining members, or sent them running to regroup.

Auva turned, and relaxed fractionally as she discovered there were no attackers about to behead her.

“Hey, what’re you doiAAUG—” Came an abrupt cry from behind her.

She whirled around again and found one of the threshecutioners staring blankly at a fallen one of their number, the fallen one’s blood coating his sickle. The remaining threshecutioner stared at the other in horror and barely managed to dodge the sickle slash in time.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” The remaining threshecutioner demanded.

‘Psychic manipulation, complete ruthlessness and a sadistic streak a mile wide,’ Auva remembered. Thinking quickly, she cut the power to her chainsaw and slammed the flat of the weapon into the possessed troll’s temple. He crumpled into a heap on the ground.

“It’s Mindfang!” Auva cried, “She is controlling our soldiers! Beware!” She turned to the remaining threshecutioner. “Can you get the wounded to safety?”

He glanced at the three fallen—two still, the other unconscious, but alive. “Yeah. Go on.”

Auva made her way back to Tarfus and Stratet’s side as they finished off another attacker with contemptuous ease.

“Forgive my intrusion,” Auva said, “But I believe we need to stop Mindfang herself unless we want her to pick us off one by one by using our allies against us.”

Stratet nodded. “Agreed. Depinza, get two of the men and follow me.” Tarfus nodded and strode away. “Madris, you stay here. Vaten, Rollis, Frieze, Kahrre, guard the negotiaterror. Keep an eye out for possession by Mindfang, she can only control one of you at a time,” Stratet rattled off. “Depinza, you ready?”

“And waiting, sir,” Tarfus replied, two others lined up behind him.

“Then let’s move!” She said, and jumped across the gap dividing the two ships. The other three followed close behind.

“This way miss,” Said one of the threshecutioners, touching her lightly on the arm. She followed him, and they joined the regrouped threshecutioner detachment, arranged in a defensive line with the sailors while the pirates gathered on the opposite side of the deck.

Then the pirates attacked, and the next several minutes passed in a blur of hemorrhaging rainbow, pained screaming, and the persistent roar of Auva’s chainsaw. She lost herself in the rhythm of the clash of blades and cries of the fallen. For every drop of jade-green spilled, she and her allies ensured that their enemies suffered retribution twofold.

And then there was a sour note in the melody. The pirates retreated, melted into a disorganized mob for a moment, and reformed around a sight that made Auva’s insides clench in dismay. And then there was cold steel at her neck, and she froze. The threshecutioners’ attention had lapsed, and now one of their own was holding his sickle against Auva’s neck.

Through the gap in the pirates, a tall woman in a long black overcoat trimmed in blue stood on the deck of the pirates’ ship. She was wearing a large, floppy black hat with a single white feather stuck through the brim, high-heeled boots, and elbow-length black gloves. In one hand, she held her saber to Stratet’s neck, and in her other, she held a faintly glowing blue die. Her expression was one of supreme confidence; a satisfied predator’s smile outlined in blue lipstick, two prominent fangs poking out over her bottom lip. Her hair was an artfully arranged mass of black curls. Auva wondered how she kept it that way during all the fighting, and what her eyes looked like under that—what was she thinking? She shook her head and returned to reality.

Tarfus was standing to the woman’s side, unrestrained but unable to act for the blade at Stratet’s throat. The fangs-bared grimace on Tarfus’ face stood testament to his frustration and Auva swore quietly. When he was angry, he was liable to do something stupid…

Before Auva was able to worry further, the woman spoke with a voice like cold razors. “For those of you who are unaware, I am Marquise Spinneret Mindfang. I am here today to take from you your valuables and, should I find you useful, your freedom. Should I not, I will take from you your lives. If any of you would like to prove your w—” She began.

“Oh please, Spin,” Stratet interrupted, “Spare them the monologue, would you? You’re just going to kill them all anyway and we both know it.”

Mindfang’s grin widened. “Dear Kula, you always were quite the firecracker. You’re quite certain you don’t want to come with me again?”

Stratet rolled her eyes. “You might be surprised by this Spin, but no, I don’t want to be kidnapped by you again. While it was a memorably hate-filled night, you’re still a little young for my tastes.”

Mindfang sighed, and ran a finger over Stratet’s broken horn. Stratet shuddered. “Oh, but we had so much fun that night. It’s just as well I suppose; I’ve found another kismesis, one more befitting someone of my blood.”

“See, that’s why it would never work between us, Spin. You hate too readily, and nobody’s willing to auspisticize for you. I know you must be spadebroken over it, but you’ll just have to find a way to cope.”

Auva listened to the conversation, wide-eyed. Stratet knew Mindfang personally? And Stratet had…ahem…”known” Mindfang? She was so shocked she nearly missed it when Stratet took advantage of Mindfang’s distraction to flash a hand signal to Tarfus. Tarfus moved faster than Auva’s eyes could track, and his sickle scythed through the air toward her. Auva’s eyes widened and she jerked to the side, her captor’s weapon nicking her neck in the process. Her captor took the spinning sickle’s handle to the face and stumbled back, Mindfang’s control momentarily broken.

Mindfang screeched and clutched her forehead with her free hand, as the sensation of the sickle’s collision fed back into her own mind. Stratet attempted to twist out of Mindfang’s grip, but Mindfang brought her saber to Stratet’s neck and

sliced

and there was a spray of green. That single, frozen moment stretched as the viridian arced through the air in slow motion and Stratet fell to her knees. It stretched like a sheet of rubber until it finally snapped, and Auva found herself swinging her chainsaw toward the troll holding her captive. The flat of the weapon caught him in the head and he went down. Auva managed a single step toward the other ship before there were suddenly bodies in her way again.

The next few moments were utter chaos, all swinging limbs and the press of bodies on all sides, roaring like a single, enraged animal. All the threshecutioners had leapt into action simultaneously and torn into the remaining pirates. One unlucky individual made the mistake of attacking Auva and received a ravening chainsaw to the midsection for his trouble. With no one blocking her, she again had a clear view of the other ship’s deck.

Tarfus had acquired a sickle from somewhere, and was swinging wildly at Mindfang, who was finding herself hard-pressed to defend against the furious threshecutioner. And then both of them stumbled to their knees as the deck quaked and rumbled. Auva looked down and saw gunsmoke rising from the gap between the ships. Apparently, some enterprising sailor had made it belowdecks and had the bright idea of cannoning Mindfang’s ship from point-blank range.

Mindfang realized what had happened as well. She must not have thought much of her ship’s odds, because the next thing out of her mouth was a screeched “Retreat!”

Tarfus took advantage of Mindfang’s momentary lapse in concentration by delivering a slash to her upper torso. She grunted and twisted, and launched a boot to Tarfus’ chest. He caught it full on and flew backward, landing next to Stratet’s motionless form. He glanced at it, glanced back at Mindfang and made a split-second decision. He stuck his sickle through his belt, scooped up Stratet’s motionless form and made a mad dash toward the other ship.

Mindfang looked up at Tarfus as he was picking up Stratet and a grin spread across her face. She drew the hand holding the die back, and cast it forward with an executioner’s grace. Seven other dice followed the first and tumbled to the deck. For a moment, nothing happened, and Auva let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Then, a blue lightning bolt tore out of the gray sky and crashed into the deck right on top of Tarfus. The blast threw him forward, clear across the gap between the two ships. He tumbled through the air, and landed on the far side of the other ship’s deck, Stratet still in his grip.

The moment the call to retreat had come, the pirates still capable of movement had turned tail and fled for the relative safety of Mindfang’s ship. Those incapable had been left behind to die at the merciless sickles of the threshecutioners. Auva hurried down to Tarfus and Stratet, dreading what she would find.

Tarfus lay on his front, unmoving, but the steady rise and fall of his back indicated that he was at least breathing. A long line of burnt flesh stretched from between his shoulder blades to the base of his back. The flesh was blackened at the edges of the wound and bright crimson red in the middle where the skin had been burnt open. It was still smoking. As Auva watched, Tarfus stirred and made his way to his knees. He turned to look at her, and caught sight of Stratet’s immobile form.

Tarfus turned to Auva, the question in his eyes. She shook her head sadly, and Tarfus clenched his eyes shut. He swayed and nearly fell over as the ship rocked violently as Mindfang’s pirates released the tow ropes from the harpoons and unmoored themselves from the other ship. Tarfus paled and managed to stick his head between two posts of the railing before the cracker from earlier came up again in the other direction.

“Fuck the sea,” he croaked, and didn’t move.

Auva dragged him away from the edge, and held him all the way to shore in full view of the recovering threshecutioners on deck.

He didn’t complain.

Notes

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I really wish there was a gender neutral honorific in English. "Sir" doesn't really work for Stratet, but "ma'am" sure as hell doesn't. I hope that wasn't too confusing, but I did the best I could with what I had.

In other news, I feel a little bit like this chapter suffers from trying to do too much in too little time. It turned out massive in comparison to the others, and I very nearly split it in half, which would've extended the flashback sequence even further. I eventually decided that that'd be a little ridiculous, and soldiered on.

Writing the Mindfang/Stratet was fun! It's something I realized I wanted to do the moment I started plotting out this chapter, but wasn't sure if I could pull off. It didn't last very long, but it came a lot more naturally than I expected, and I sure hope it reads that way.

Finally, if you spot any typos, please let me know. I read through this thing several times over the course of a few days, but my eyes just sort of glaze over whenever I look at it, so I'm probably skipping right over some.

[RogerMexico]

Comments 'n shit!

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@VioletCLM - Karkat is probably the worst bridge troll. This was really cute, and I like how each kid managed to get past him, especially Rose.

@nikeathena - I am quite impressed. In the few days you've been here you've provided us with at least three top-notch Striderfics. Don't ever leave.

@lantadyme - Lovely as always. Also, I really liked your Casey drawings in the fanart thread. Is there anything you can't do?

@ProspitDreamer - If I hadn't already switched from Dave/Jade to Karkat/Jade and Dave/Terezi due to Wigmund, that would have done it right there. Beautiful.

@Septimus - "A Sweep Without Vriska" is a new concept, and you are pulling it off quite well. It's cool to see what has changed, and I look forward to reading more.

@Seraph - "Violetescence" continues to be awesome. I like the look at aA's alt!trolls. Poor Eridan. He can't escape life shitting on him no matter how many AU's he's in.

@Jim - I'm going to go ahead and say that "Sapphire of Alternia" has become one of those fics that has been promoted to 'legendary' status, along with things like Sarasvarti's "Which Yet Survive" which I'm pretty sure single-handedly made Dave/Jade a real thing. So what I'm saying here is well done, write more.

@PingZing - Tarfus would get seasick. Thanks to you, I now have a desire to see fic about seasick Karkat, which is something I never thought I'd say. Also, keep up the excellent work.

@everyone who commented on RESET - Thanks! It means a lot to me that you guys are reading and enjoying this little experiment, because I've never written fanfic before, and I was to embarrassed to try earlier. The positive response from you guys has pretty much made this possible, by which I mean your positive support has made it possible for me to kill Feferi. The next chapter should hopefully not take as long to put up.

EDIT: On another note, I am considering getting an AO3 account and putting this up there. Is this a good idea y/n?

[battlerek]

Comment Dump:

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@DA- Now that is how you make Gamzee scarier. Make him a rainbow drinker.

@Septimus- It's funny how the lack of Vriska made some trolls better persons, and others even worse. I am surprised that Gamzee seems more in control of his crazy side however.

@Lucid Seraph- Wait, what? Did Feferi become some sort of eldritch monster thing? And will alt!Eridan end up just like canon!Kanaya? Because a time travelling rainbow drinker is an awesome idea.

@Jim- That's some pretty interesting filler you wrote there. I am now hoping for a spin-off detailing the exploits of Problem Sleuth during the trolls' session.

@ArmsAreLoud- Awesome. Could've used more finger pointing and showing of pointless evidence though.

@PD- I am disappointed at Dave for choosing love over JUSTICE. Disappointed. And I try to make alt!Vriska/Sleuth more anti-heroic, so she's definitely going to be more ruthless than Problem Sleuth was.

@Penguinbound-Well that was confusing. Interesting, but confusing.

@AC, Aldaris- Thanks.

@lantadyme- D'aww, brother-sister bonding.

[ArmsAreLoud]

Emesis requested Rose/Terezi in the deluge of lesbians currently in the RomArt thread. I AM HERE TO DELIVER. ArmsAreLoud presents...

Rose Lalonde: Ace Attorney

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"OBJ3CT1ON YOUR HONOR! MS. L4LOND3 1S B4DG3R1NG TH3 W1TN3SS!"
"I am doing nothing of the sort. I am merely extracting the truth from this heinous clown."
"COULD YOU TWO BITCHES JUST QUIET DOWN FOR ONE GOG DAMN MINUTE SO I CAN THINK? AGH, I KNEW THIS WAS A BAD IDEA!"

It has been ten years since the events of Sburb, and for the first time since then, we have a murder on our hands. We awoke last night to find one of the children missing; when he was discovered... Well, it was not an agreeable sight to look upon. All eyes immediately turned to Vriska; firstly, she is Vriska and it is a natural thing for everyone to blame her when things go wrong. Secondly, a member of the Fluorite Octet was found at the crime scene. Normally Terezi would just take this excuse to hang her, but the look on John's face obliged me to defend the spider queen. Against my better judgement, I admit, but I stand here now, defending her nonetheless.

Currently on the witness stand is Gamzee Makara. He himself had been a killer as a child, but a mixture between Karkat's attentiveness and a heavy dose of sopor slime had been believed to have ended that.

I know he did it. I just have to prove it.

"ALRIGHT, LALONDE. YOU BETTER HAVE A GOG DAMN GOOD REASON FOR THIS LINE OF QUESTIONING OR ELSE I'M HOLDING YOU IN CONTEMPT OF COURT. YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT UNDER ALTERNIAN LAW THE PUNISHMENT FOR BEING IN CONTEMPT OF COURT IS DEATH BY FIRING SQUAD.

...Of course it is. I should have known that agreeing to face Terezi under Alternian rules was a terrible idea.

"I understand, Your Honor. Now, Mister Makara... You say that you were the first to discover our victim's body. Can you describe what led you to him?"

"MoThErFuCkInG mIrAcLeS. iT's AlL i NeEd My InVeRtEsIsTeR.

"This again. Wonderful. Perhaps I should ask a different question... Ms. Pyrope. Would you please describe the cause of death for the jury?

"GL4DLY. TH3 BOY W4S B34T3N ON TH3 H34D NUM3ROUS T1M3S. TH3 MURD3R W34PON 1S UNKNOWN, 4S 1T COULD TRULY B3 4NYTH1NG W1TH TH3 FLUOR1T3 OCT3T 1N PL4Y.

"8ut I didn't do it!!!!!!!!

"QU13T YOU!" In response to Vriska's interruption Terezi quickly threw a knife in her general direction. Vriska's shoulder is now bleeding profusely.

"Is she allowed to do that?"

"YES. YES SHE IS. GET A MOVE ON, LALONDE."

"Yes. Ms. Pyrope, I currently have a list of every possibility when rolling the fluorite octet, written eleven years ago by Miss Serket herself. Would you pleasure us with a reading?"

"OF COURS3 NOT! TH4T L1ST 1S M4SS1VE!

"So what you are saying is that you do not know what the Octet is capable of. Or, perhaps more importantly, what it isn't."

"...WH4T'S YOUR PO1NT?

"I spent all last evening reading this list, Miss Pyrope. The Octet will never summon a bludgeoning item small enough to cause the wounds on our victim."

"WH4T".

"WHAT."

"HaHa MoThErFuCkInG wHaT?"

"It would appear Mr. Makara was not aware of this fact either. Good, this makes it easy. I assert that Gamzee murdered the child with his clubs, a small bludgeoning weapon that I can assure you fits perfectly with the wounds, and stole an Octet dice in order to frame Miss Serket.

"...real motherfucking impressive, rose.

"Excuse me, Mr. Makara? I did not quite catch that.

"I SAID THAT WAS REAL MOTHERFUCKING IMPRESSIVE MOTHERFUCKER!!!

"OH GOG IT'S HAPPENING AGAIN! SOMEONE, QUICK, RESTRAIN HIM! SOPOR SHOTS, WHERE ARE HIS SOPOR SHOTS?

It took the combined might of John, Dave, and Kanaya, but we finally held him down. He will hang this time. He is too much of a liability to keep around now.

Afterwards I met with Terezi. She was sitting at a bench outside court. She appeared to have been crying a little.

"A penny for your thoughts, prosecutor?"

"1 LOST. 1 N3V3R LOS3.

"It had to happen eventually, Terezi. Besides, that is one confrontation I could not afford to lose. I do not think I could face John if Vriska were to hang.

"YOU COMPL3T3LY OUTSTR1PP3D M3 1N TH3R3. ST4YING UP 4LL N1GHT TO F1ND 3V1D3NC3 FOR VR1SK4'S 1NNOC3NC3... TH4T W4S S3R1OUS D3D1C4T1ON. 1 L1K3 TH4T."

"Excuse me?"

"TH3 W4Y YOU SPOK3... 1T W4S 1NCR3D1BLE. YOU W3R3 SO D3T3RM1N3D. SO BOLD! NOW TH4T 1 LOOK B4CK 1 R34L1Z3 1 W4S NOT 3NT1R3LY 1NV3ST3D 1N TH4T C4S3. 1 W4S TOO BUSY LOOK1NG 4T YOU.

"Terezi, I...

You should have seen Karkat's face.

It's a super cool idea, and the dialogue is funny. I love the ending too, although it's a bit abrupt. Then again all troll/human romance is defined by Karkles's level of dismay towards it. My only real critique is that you rely too much on not using contractions in Rose's dialogue, and it seems a little off. I don't remember Rose avoiding contractions much in her canon pesterlogs.

Any chance of getting a sequel?

Chances of a sequel are pretty much nil. Not zero, but close. :U

And the ending was abrupt because as I neared the end I was like "wait hold on this was supposed to be lesbian fanfiction woops". And I hadn't even noticed that I was avoiding contractions in Rose's dialogue; I admit that I am not very good at actually following the speech patterns of the kids (I hadn't even noticed that Dave drops the g's in his -ing's until recently), so yeah. I'll have to think about that more carefully next time.

[lucidSeraph]

some responses to comments:

@Lucid Seraph- Wait, what? Did Feferi become some sort of eldritch monster thing? And will alt!Eridan end up just like canon!Kanaya? Because a time travelling rainbow drinker is an awesome idea.

It's going to be explained in the next update, no worries; it also makes more sense if you read the fic I'm... now... I guess not even based on anymore so much as adamantApocalyptic and I gleefully steal from each other and weave our fics into one glorious tanglebuddy of incestuous referencing. But Feferi is the Maid of Rage in her canon, and she's got ties to the Horrorterrors...

This isn't a spoiler, so: Eridan will explicitly not endup a Rainbow Drinker, sorry. In fact there aren't any Rainbow Drinkers in RDV canon, unless someone points out a way to make it happen that's WAY COOLER than what I have in mind.

@Seraph - "Violetescence" continues to be awesome. I like the look at aA's alt!trolls. Poor Eridan. He can't escape life shitting on him no matter how many AU's he's in.

EDIT: On another note, I am considering getting an AO3 account and putting this up there. Is this a good idea y/n?

I think it's just an Eridan thing in general, y'know? 'verse hates him. there will be more trolls in upcoming updates (I have stuff I'm doing with them before I get back to Our Hero(s))

Also yes it's 100% a good idea to get an AO3 account and putting it up there.

[Darkwind3]

For those of you who don't know, about a month ago the Bay12 forum had a fanfiction contest about Homestuck, using a prompt generator. I was charged with gathering the results and putting them in one month, and after much lazing around, it has been done. Some are incredibly well-made, some are deliberately terrible, some are NSFW, most are not.The results can be found here. The NSFW and deliberately terrible ones are marked with red warnings. As a teaser, here's my own contribution to the project. The prompt was Mom/Vodka Mutini (Mutie): Teacups:

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Mom: Join Alcoholics Anonymous

Certainly not! You're not a people person. And besides, you aren't an alcoholic. You just enjoy your gin. And whiskey. And wine. You think vodka is okay too, in a pinch. Really, anything with alcohol is...

Alright. So you're an alcoholic. But you will deal with it your own way.

Mom: Speak to Rose

Rose thinks you should join Alcoholics Anonymous. But you will not. You cannot join AA. It is something which should not be done.

Rose asks what your plan is, then. You decide to explain it to her. You will try to drink caffeine instead of alcohol, you say. Perhaps it will help with withdrawal, and that addiction will certainly be more socially acceptable. You plan on buying a large amount of soda tomorrow.

==>

The next day, you are awake unusually early. This is because you had nothing to drink last night. You already feel terrible, and you're not sure whether it's the withdrawal kicking in early or some sort of psychological effect. Rose would probably know, you think.

Coincidentally, Rose is up early as well. She explains that she has decided to help you with your plan. She has done this by pouring every alcoholic beverage, solid and a few assorted alcoholic gases down the drain. She's even been kind enough to make use of the tea set you bought on a whim. You notice it is quite nice-looking. Unfortunately, the empty wine glasses are not.

Mom: Destroy the house in a fit of rage

Why would you do that? You're not angry, and you're certainly not your mother. Really, addiction is a very serious matter. You should not be so frivolous!

Fortunately, mother seems to be taking this unexpected twist of fate well. She's already sitting at the table, sipping tea, acting as if everything is normal. If serendipity smiles upon you, soon it will be. Perhaps eventually you will be able to invite your friends over without your mother commiting a faux pas! Eventually.

Rose: Invite friends over

You don't see why your dear child would ever do such a thing. She does still correspond with her friends from her Sburb days, but she's never gone to any of their houses, nor has she ever invited any of them to hers! Besides, she has her hands full already, helping you with your alcoholism.

It's been weeks now, and while it's become easier, it is still far from easy. The taste of alcohol is never too far from your mind. Indeed, you fear you are not trading one addiction for another, but simply creating a second in addition to the first. But the tea is delicious, which is fortu—

Oh dear. The doorbell is ringing; it seems you have visitors.

Dad: Greet Mom

You're in through the back door before either of them even have time to open the front one. Being an awesome dude like you are has its advantages. One of them is the equally awesome pranks.

But today, you are not here to place Li'l Cal where some unsuspecting preteen will stumble upon him and be scarred for life. No, you carry a much more precious cargo. This will be the best prank/gift in the history of Paradox Space. Now to deliver the cargo and get out.

Mom: Catch on

Catch on to what? It was probably some little kid on a dare. Even if it wasn't, you are definitely not going to try to solve any mysteries this early in the morning and before you've had your morning cup of tea. Okay, two cups of tea. Well, you do usually have at least three, often five or more.

You walk back to the table and happen to glance at the cup you were about to drink. You notice that this one has a picture of a tree on its side. It also contains Jaspers. Jaspers seems to have four eyes in addition to suddenly not being dead.

Rose is snickering.

Rose: Explain

You explain to your dear mother that you have just met a paradox clone of Jaspers. She replies that she knows that much already, and asks you how you know this.

You say you found the poor thing in the lab, where you named him/her and really you just realized you still don't know Mutie's gender and also that that was audible.

Your mother asks you what Mutie stands for. You reply that it is short for Vodka Mutini. Your mother stares at Mutie.

She downs a full cup of tea with her free hand and reaches for another.

Mom: Abandon Mutie

You decide you won't, after a cup or three of tea to help you think. Really, Vodka Mutini isn't such a terrible name. You should have expected something that snarky from your daughter. And he/she looks cute cuddling in that teacup, really. Perhaps a custom-made teacup bed is in order for him/her?

Your daughter has a look of utter confusion on her face. You ask her whether she wants one as well, and attempt to hide your laugh behind another cup of tea.

Tea is delicious, really, you're not sure why you didn't try it out earlier.

[nikeathena]

@draconcAlgorithm: (god now all I want to do is spell your name with a y) Thank you! Yep Texas apparently can get that cold, as was hinted by my relatives who saw frigid temperatures around the time (in the summer no less) I did in New York. I think New York was actually warmer?

@RogerMexico: yay, thank you! I think I might stick around a while longer!

[Jim Groovester]

For those of you who don't know, about a month ago the Bay12 forum had a fanfiction contest about Homestuck, using a prompt generator. I was charged with gathering the results and putting them in one month, and after much lazing around, it has been done. Some are incredibly well-made, some are deliberately terrible, some are NSFW, most are not.The results can be found here. The NSFW and deliberately terrible ones are marked with red warnings.

Since I was part of this, I'll elaborate a little bit.

It was a contest to decide who could write the best promptfic, although with a special condition: you were given a prompt and forced to write about it. So it would prove who was the best/most creative/luckiest fanfiction writer on the Bay12Games Forums. At some point the idea that it was a competition was completely forgotten about, so we ended up with all these fics and just decided to cross-post them here for the hell of it.

Having read all of them in advance, I can vouch for the quality of (most of) them.

Oh, and lookit, some fic.

The Sapphire of Alternia, Part 23

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Problem Sleuth wakes up to the sounds of muffled yelling and stomping. He rubs his eyes and sits up, the cot squeaking under Sleuth’s moving weight. Sleuth turns his head to the source of the sounds. He looks at the ladder leading up to his office, wondering who's visiting him at this hour. It can’t be anyone Sleuth knows. They’re much more polite around his stuff than okay so maybe it could be someone Sleuth knows.

Sleuth stands up and feels around pitch blackness until his hand brushes a string. He tugs on it and the room fills with dim light. This is Sleuth’s hideout, and unlike the Midnight Crew’s it’s actually a secret. It’s a small, bare room with unpainted concrete walls and floors. In one corner is a sink, causing mold to grow on the wall nearby, giving the room a dank, musty smell. In another is a cabinet full of dry food stuffs, in case Sleuth has to hide out for weeks at a time. In the final two corners are a cot that’s hard to get any sleep on and the ladder to Sleuth’s office.

The room used to be a maintenance closet, until Sleuth paid under the table to have the door walled over and a small vertical passage linked up to his office. The only people who know about it are Pickle Inspector, Ace Dick, and Hysterical Dame, and the last one only because Sleuth’s tried hiding from her down here before. That didn’t work out very well for Sleuth.

==>

She opened the safe, found the hidden lever, flew down the ladder and demanded some answers from you at lipstickpoint, all because she thought you were avoiding her (which you were).

Between the two of you, it’s pretty clear who the real Hardboiled Detective is.

Sleuth quietly climbs up the ladder. He rests his arms on the floor, standing on the rungs as he listens to the commotion in his office.

“Problem Sleuth?” He hears an enunciated alto. “I’ve come to collect the Sapphire of Alternia, and you are not here.”

Wealthy Quantifier? Guess she got Sleuth’s message. That’s kind of her, to come down here in the middle of the night to pick it up herself, instead of making Sleuth jump through hoops, like he expected. If Wealthy Quantifier wanted him to jump through hoops to return the Sapphire Sleuth thinks he’d shoot himself. Sleuth starts climbing down the ladder.

“He’s not here.” Sleuth stops. Crowbar. “If he was we would’ve found him.”

“I told you to be quiet!” The alto screams angrily. “I make no apology for distrusting your competence.”

“You can distrust my competence all you want, it won’t change the fact that he’s not here.” Crowbar stresses the final words.

Sleuth hears the click of sharp heels tapping across his office floor. “If you have nothing to say besides excuses then say nothing.” Snowman tells Crowbar. “Have your men search the office thoroughly.”

“There’s nothing here and this is a waste of time.”

A moment passes. Maybe enough time for Snowman to take a breath from her cigarette holder, or maybe enough time for her to shift her weight from one foot to the other. “Have your men search the office thoroughly.” She repeats coldly.

“If it weren’t for you we could’ve had the Sapphire of Alternia by now.”

The heels click rapidly towards one side of the room. Sleuth jumps back a bit as the secret door thuds with the sound of a body colliding into it. “If it weren’t for me you wouldn’t even know it was the Sapphire of Alternia!” Snowman screams. “Clearly the Felt are in dire need of a new manager of its day-to-day operations. Perhaps an individual of supreme competence and leadership who can coordinate the efforts of this band of temporal misfits into a clockwork machine of fearsome efficiency. Perhaps an individual who does not waste the advantage of numbers and functional invincibility in the face of soldiers turned private detectives. Perhaps an individual who does not meekly call me in the middle of the night only to explain that he needs a ride!”

There’s a tense moment of silence. “Why don't you hire Spades Slick.”

==>

That’s something you would say, if you were in Crowbar’s shoes.

You’ve gained a smidgeon of respect for him. Running the Felt is a thankless job, and the guy can’t catch a break.

Snowman lets out a bloodcurdling screech as the secret door thuds repeatedly.

==>

Respect ain’t sympathy, though. You’re glad to see him get beat up by a girl.

Hell, he probably enjoys it. If he had a choice in the matter he wouldn’t, but he might as well make the best of a beautiful woman’s scorn and hatred. It’s better than indifference.

Problem Sleuth: Descend.

You could listen to Crowbar get beat up all night long, but you’re tired.

If Crowbar and Snowman find your hideout, there’s nothing you’re gonna be able to do, so you might as well try and get some sleep.

Problem Sleuth quietly climbs down the ladder. He tugs on the light cord and gently lays himself down on the cot, counting on Snowman’s fury to drown out the squeaking. He stares at the pitch black ceiling, and lets the thuds against his secret door lull him to sleep.

Sleuth opens his eyes an instant later. Sleuth sits up with unusual energy. He turns himself out of bed and gets up. He tugs on the light string. He dons his hat, puts on his coat, and picks up the lockbox. He tugs on the light again and starts climbing up the ladder.

“Heya, Sleu... Oh.” He hears a voice from his office as he’s climbing. “What happened in here?” She asks.

The phone starts ringing. Sleuth gets the impression that that’s been happening for a while now. Sleuth reaches the top of the ladder and hoists himself upward onto the narrow foothold.

The woman answers it. There’s a quick pause while the other end is talking. “Have what?”

Sleuth pushes open the secret door. Persevering Maillady has his phone in hand, looking out the window and opening the blinds, morning sunlight bleeding in. Sleuth closes the secret door behind him. “Give that here.” He says as he grabs the phone out of her hand.

She turns around quickly. “Goodness, Sleuth! Where did you come from?” She asks.

Sleuth gives her a quick glance before he puts the receiver up to his ear. “Who was that?” The man on the other end says. It’s Litigious Lawyer.

“Don’t worry about her.” Sleuth says as he does a quick scan through the window.

There’s a pause. “You still got it?”

“Yeah.” Sleuth says as he closes the blinds.

“Good.” Lawyer says. “Keynoter’s waiting.” He says, more than a little expectation in his voice.

“I’ll bet he is. But I’ve got people after me, and they know you’re involved somehow. They’ll be waiting if I get anywhere near the office.”

Another pause. “Alright.”

“Just give me some time. I’ll work it out somehow.”

A deep breath and then a sigh. “I trust you, Sleuth. I know you won’t let Wallstreet Keynoter down. But be careful about it, and I’m pretty sure that means be quick about it.”

“Thanks for the tip. Keep your phone handy. I’ll call you with details.”

“Bye, Sleuth. Good luck.” Lawyer says.

Sleuth hangs up the phone. He takes a deep breath and turns around. He lets it out. Persevering Maillady is looking at him like he’s a ghost. “What?” Sleuth asks. “Is there something on my face?”

“Sleuth!” She finally says. “You, uh, surprised me. That's all”

Sleuth shrugs. “I was napping under Dick’s desk. I heard you come in.”

“I,” She starts. “I’m not sure what to say.”

Sleuth looks around his office. Snowman must’ve gotten through to Crowbar. The place is completely trashed. The drawers of Sleuth’s desk have been pulled out and emptied, the filing cabinet tipped over and its contents strewn about across the floor. All of Sleuth’s pictures have been ripped down, and the edges of the door to Sleuth’s safe have been scratched from a crowbar. There’s blood smears on the walls and more than a few dents. The desk chair is upside down, and the arm chairs for his clients are knocked backwards. Sleuth picks up his chair and sits down in it. “Well, ya might as well start somewhere.”

Maillady eyes the room. “What happened?”

“Oh, this?” Sleuth casually points to the mess. “I had visitors.”

Persevering Maillady looks at the blood smears. She nervously sits herself down. “That’s not yours, is it?” She cautiously points to the blood on the walls.

“No. They did that too.” Sleuth says. “Crowbar and Snowman. Must’ve been one hell of a romp. Wish they would’ve tried a hotel instead.”

“Sleuth,” Maillady says with a concerned look on her face.

Sleuth shrugs. “You were here yesterday. You know the Felt are after me.”

“But it only hit home just now.” Maillady slumps down in her seat. “Sleuth, you’re in real trouble.”

“What else is new.” Sleuth puts the lockbox on the desk.

Maillady leans forward and looks at the box. “What’s that?”

Sleuth looks Maillady in the eye. “The Sapphire of Alternia.” He says simply.

Maillady’s eyes snap to Sleuth’s. Her mouth is hanging open, completely stunned. Sleuth nods. Yep, that’s what it really is. Maillady carefully and cautiously grabs the lockbox. She lifts it up, giving the lockbox far more care than it deserves. “Wow.” She says as she looks it over. “It’s a lot more rectangular than I thought it would be.”

Sleuth cradles his face in his hands. “It’s inside the box.” He mumbles.

“Hmm?” Maillady asks with a small turn of her head? “What was that, Sleuth?”

Sleuth pulls his head upward. “It’s inside the box.”

Maillady tenses up like she’s just been caught doing something incredibly stupid. “Oh.” She puts the lockbox back on the table, treating it like a metal container instead of a priceless artifact. “That makes sense. That makes a lot of sense, actually.” Maillady nervously laughs.

Sleuth wants to press the issue. Why would she think the box was the Sapphire? That's downright idiotic. But Sleuth decides it’s not worth it. What would it prove? That Maillady isn’t the sharpest paper in the ream? She already knows that, and Sleuth isn’t about to rub it in.

“So,” Maillady cautiously ventures again. “Did you put the lock back on to keep it safe? Or something.”

Sleuth shakes his head. “We never got it open. We tried, too.” Sleuth points out Ace Dick’s hand print.

“Did you try the key?”

“Now, why didn’t I think of that?” Sleuth says. “I don’t have the key.”

“Are you sure?” Maillady asks.

==>

Huh.

Sleuth fishes around his coat pockets. All his coat pockets. Sleuth pulls out his key ring, several keys, a few notes, a pen or two, a notepad, and finally, Wealthy Quantifier’s key ring. He completely forgot about it. Just another piece of detective detritus that got lost as it became less and less relevant. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened though, a seemingly mundane object taking on unexpected importance as Sleuth gets deeper in a case. He’s not surprised at all. He’s tried anticipating it happening but he can’t quite seem to get it right. Sometimes mundane objects remain unimportant.

Maillady has a big grin across her face. “Now why didn’t you think of that, Sleuth?” She teases. “I guess the top problem sleuth can’t compare to the intelligence and experience of a member of the city’s fine brigade of mailwomen.”

Sleuth glares at Maillady. “You thought it was the box.”

Maillady gives a worriless shrug. “What’s worse, Sleuth? Realizing you could’ve opened the lockbox as soon as you got it, or thinking the box was the Sapphire of Alternia?”

“The box.”

Maillady giggles. “If you say so, Sleuth.”

Sleuth searches through the keys on the key ring. Most of them are house, office, and car keys. Nothing remotely out of the ordinary, except a heavy key with ornate decorations. It looks like it was meant to lock palace doors. Sleuth figured it was just a souvenir of her time as a monarch, but knowing Wealthy Quantifier, he’s not surprised about this at all either.

Sleuth spins the lockbox around so that the padlock faces him. He sticks the key in the padlock. Maillady jumps out of her seat and stands over Sleuth’s shoulder to get a good view.

Problem Sleuth: Use key.

You have never felt like this before. You feel... correct. Like you are an acolyte of an ancient and lost art of lock opening, and only now, after years of zealous study, have you finally succeeded in using a key for its proper purpose.

Opening the gates and doors of Wealthy Quantifier’s home feels amateurish in comparison.

Problem Sleuth turns the key and the padlock opens. Sleuth slips it off. He tries to open the lid, but Ace Dick’s brutishness is keeping it closed. With a little of his own, the lid comes free of the corner. Sleuth looks inside.

It’s the Sapphire of Alternia. A necklace of twelve pearls connected to a long piece of carved ivory with a brilliant sapphire set inside, all coiled in a corner of the box.

Sleuth leans in closer. The pearls, they’re not actually linked together by a thin metal chain, or a string, or anything. And the sapphire. Sleuth looks closer. It’s not actually a sapphire. It looks... cloudy.

Sleuth reaches his hand inside the box and grabs hold of the Sapphire of Alternia... and a sudden rush of protective urges, a dozen beastly desires, monstrous but nurturing, fill Sleuth’s head. Twelve different aspects, all flowing into him from his hand through his arm to his head, chilling the inside of his flesh on its way up. And finally, the knowledge of this artifact surfacing to the forefront of his mind, the knowledge of how to use it, the knowledge he always had but never needed, supplied to him by his very origin.

“Sleuth? Sleuth?” Maillady keeps asking him. “What’s wrong? What is it?”

Sleuth pulls the Sapphire of Alternia out of its box, its pearls clinking as they pull out one by one. “See for yourself.” With a thought, the ivory extends to its full size, spanning the length of Sleuth’s arm, the pearls wrapping themselves around its head in a circle just beneath the sapphire, now clearly revealed to be a sky blue disc with puffy clouds and white spirograph patterns on its surface.

Persevering Maillady gasps loudly.

==>

The Sapphire of Alternia is the White King’s Scepter.

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GASP

SHOCKING

Okay, this probably was pretty obvious based solely on who all was getting involved. It was the sole motivation for their involvement in the first place.

I thought about a good MacGuffin for a while before I started writing the fic proper, and I could only think of a few good items in all of Homestuck that would function well as one. I picked the one that I thought was the least obvious. The choice drove a lot of plot decisions, character inclusions, choices of themes, backstory, and lots of other stuff. If it were something else the whole fic would be different.

And shawddup I know this isn't exactly how it works but I'm making some minor deviations from canon that everybody's probably completely forgotten about in the interest of making a better story.

This might need a non-tired edit. Fair warning: things might change tomorrow.

[battlerek]

Huh. For some reason I was expecting it to be a fancy sentimental locket that also happens to function as the controls to Alternia's orbital defense system, what with the hints to it being a valuable relic made by the trolls. It never occurred to me that it was WK's meteor-summoning still 12X prototyped scepter.

[Jim Groovester]

Yeah, that was a complete red herring. If I managed to distract you from what it really was, then, success.

Maybe I shouldn't say it was obvious? I thought I did a reasonable job keeping what it really was hidden, even bending suspension of disbelief a little to keep it secret. It's not really important what it actually is, aside from all the stuff I said about it helping define what the fic turned out to be. All that matters is it's powerful and important and people are willing to fight over it.

Anyways,

Responses:

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@Path: Shit, I missed an opportunity to both kill PS and frustrate everybody reading this thing at the same time. BRB rewriting the whole fic.

@Roger Mexico: That's some pretty high praise you're giving me. I appreciate it, but I'm not sure the SoA's on that level.

@battlerek: I might have something like that in mind. I may write a few lengthy snippets of PS and crew as soldiers, although it won't happen until the SoA is over. Partly for plot related reasons, partly because I think it'd be disruptive to do it in the middle of the fic.

Comments:

@battlerek: Hey, no problem with the hardboiled action. Investigation is just as important to a fic with an element of mystery as action is. As much as I like seeing the Midnight Crew be vicious gangsters, I like seeing Team Sleuth do their thing too.

@Violet CLM: This was great. Awww, all the troll needed was a little love.

@Roger Mexico: Feferi is dead? I am surprisingly unaffected by this. It's good knowing what's going on, and I thought it was good to get it from Eridan's perspective. I guess we know why Rose hates him now.

@PingZing: I don't think I could express my excitement for this chapter. It was just soooo cooool. Moirails being moirails, Mindfang, cool fights. Just, awesome.

[battlerek]

And what a good red herring it was .With Sleuth in possession of the scepter now, I am hilariously imagining Problem Sleuth with Aourthour's glorious mustache and Mother Grub's Hussie lips.

Thanks. I really enjoy writing Sleuth's side of the story, but I try as much as possible for them not to steal the spotlight, but it's really tough having the MC doing anything without someone dying horribly/Sleuth getting maimed, so writing noir-style investigations using the crew is pretty difficult.

[anonymousComrade]

@PingZing: welp, you're going to win this round of the Karkancestor-off, partly because Tarfus is kicking pirate ass while Karkinos is stuck in writer's block limbo, but even if I were anywhere near done with this chapter, I think you'd still win, because damn, that's a hard act to follow.

@Jim: Sapphire, Alternia, awesome, etc. (in all seriousness though I love how you've blended both MSPA settings together into one big story, this is probably my favorite ongoing series in the thread)

@nikeathena and lantadyme: slice-of-life Striderfic is always worth a read (even when it's about alternate Striders) and these were no exception.

@RogerMexico: ohhhhhhh shiiiiiiiiiiiit, the plot thickens! I'm liking this series more and more with each new part

[SeptimusMagistos]

@Septimus- It's funny how the lack of Vriska made some trolls better persons, and others even worse. I am surprised that Gamzee seems more in control of his crazy side however.

I guess I should explain that one. Given that the Subjugglators were apparently able to participate in troll society to the point of directing people, I'm assuming they didn't simply kill everyone all the time. So I'm running them by the same rules as mad scientists from Narbonic: a Subjugglator gets a brief 'breakthrough' period where you just murder everyone you can without rhyme or reason, but then afterward settles down to more directed, thought-through murder. Once they enter the second period, I imagine them being able to restrain themselves to an extent, and even to make friends.

[Path]

I want to design an actual Sapphire of Alternia necklace now. >_>

Uh, pretty things aside, so sweet. Maybe I'll write Crowbar/Snowman now that I've got more of a taste for it. :P

I wish I could give a better rundown but I'm tired, it was awesome and thrilling, Jim is still my hero